The Queen's Blade VI - Lord Protector

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The Queen's Blade VI - Lord Protector Page 20

by T C Southwell


  "My patience is at an end, Jovan. You did not even bother to find a man who resembles the Queen's Blade. I have barely glanced at him, and I know that this is not he."

  Jovan blustered, "I have it on good authority that this is the assassin known as -"

  "Rubbish. You are trying to wriggle out of your blunder. I will wager that this is not even an assassin. Show me his mark."

  The soldiers tugged open the man's collar, revealing the unblemished skin at the base of his throat. Kerrion glowered at Jovan and rose to step down from the shallow dais, flicking his fingers at the guards.

  "Release him at once." He walked over to Jovan, who cringed. "Your stupidity is only compounded by your arrogance, brother. Did you think, for one moment, that this would fool me?"

  "I protest, Sire, I believed him to be -"

  "Enough. Tell me the truth now, or I shall beat it out of you. Did you, at any time, capture the Queen's Blade?"

  "I... no."

  "Where is Dravis?"

  "I know not, Sire, I -"

  Kerrion's fist cracked into Jovan's jaw, and he staggered back, raising his hands as Kerrion followed. "Where is Dravis?"

  "In truth, I know not!"

  "Where is the Queen's Blade?"

  "I... As far as I know, he is dead."

  "As far as you know?" Kerrion cocked his head. "Just how much do you know?"

  "Nothing, I swear!"

  "You sicken me. You are a craven toad. I know Dravis is in Contara. I am not a fool. I will find him, and I will find the Queen's Blade, whether he is dead or alive."

  Jovan shook his head. "He is dead."

  "Oh, so you do know something. You got this from Dravis, not so?"

  "He was here, yes, but I did not invite him, nor did I aid him."

  "Nor did you inform me of his presence. That is treason, brother."

  Jovan stepped back, rubbing his jaw. "I was going to inform you, I -"

  "Silence!" Kerrion stepped closer. "You are hereby stripped of your governorship. Prethos is appointed in your place. You will remain here, in exile, for the rest of your days."

  "Prethos? He is a child!"

  "Do not question my decisions. If you cannot control it, I shall have your tongue cut out, just as you did to that unfortunate you had dragged before me. I tire of your insolence. I will hear no more from you. Remove yourself from my presence at once and seek a humble abode in which to dwell. Your allowance is discontinued and your retinue curtailed. Any lord who swears allegiance to you will be similarly stripped. Two of your men will remain in your employ, and one servant, paid for by the crown. Now get out."

  Jovan glowered at the King, then stalked out, retaining what little dignity he had left by neglecting to bow. Kerrion beckoned to the most senior officer in Jovan's army, and the man ran forward to kneel.

  "You and your men are now inducted into my army. You will swear allegiance to me, or die."

  "I do so swear, My King!"

  "See to it that your men do also, save two, who may continue to serve Jovan. Where is Prince Dravis?"

  "No one has seen him since this morning, My King."

  "So, he has found a rock to crawl under. Find him, or anyone who may know where he is hiding, and bring him to me. Go!"

  The officer leapt up and ran out, followed by the rest of Jovan's men. The King left the audience chamber and sought the dining hall, where he ordered a meal. While he waited for it to arrive, he sipped his wine and sent a message to the Contara army, ordering it to find Prince Dravis and arrest him.

  Lord Batian eyed Kerrion with a slight smile. "What of the Jashimari battalion, Sire? Will you allow them to arrest Prince Dravis?"

  "If they find him first, yes. Even if I find him first, I intend to hand him over to the Jashimari. Chiana will execute him, as I cannot. She deserves vengeance for her husband's death, since Dravis broke the law when he captured the Queen's Blade in Jashimari. He was their Lord Protector."

  Chiana looked up at Insash, lowering the letter she had just read. "When did this happen?"

  "Two days ago, Regent. Your men have almost reached Ashmarad."

  "Any news of my husband?"

  The advisor lowered his eyes. "Regretfully, no, My Lady."

  "If you hear anything, inform me immediately."

  "Of course, My Lady."

  Chiana sighed and turned away. "I do not expect good news, so do not try to spare me."

  "As you wish, Regent."

  Chiana dismissed him, then dropped the letter on her desk and left her study, heading for the palace temple. Two guards shadowed her, as they always did, but remained at the door when she removed her shoes and entered its gold-clad confines. A white satin cloth draped the solid gold altar, upon which stood a crystal bowl of sacred water, a potted shay flower, and a candle. Beyond it, a vast image of Tinsharon's serpent form was carved into the wall and picked out with emeralds, its eyes made from diamonds and the viper's arrow-like mark on its head fashioned from rubies. Torches lighted the scene, filling the chamber with soft brilliance.

  Since Blade's death, Chiana had come here every day to pray, but before that she had not visited it since her wedding day. She recalled her joy on that day with a bittersweet pang. After the ceremony, she had been brought here for her consecration, and made the vows of chastity, sobriety and poverty that were required of a priestess. She walked up the three shallow steps and entered the hallowed area around the altar, where only priestesses were allowed to tread. Even royalty were forbidden to touch Tinsharon's image. She approached it and ran her hand over the emeralds. Touching his image was supposed to draw his attention, and she hoped that it did now.

  Sinking to her knees, she raised her hands in the plea that had become a daily ritual. In it she begged Tinsharon to deliver Blade from his enemies, if he was alive, and if he is dead, welcome him into the Everlasting. Lowering her hands at the end of the liturgy, she pressed her brow to the floor and whispered, "Spare him."

  She raised her head to gaze up at the serpent image. "You are a vengeful god. If he is dead, I ask for vengeance. Let those who have harmed him burn in Damnation for all eternity. Hear my plea, Tinsharon. Grant me this wish."

  Chiana knelt there for a full time-glass, her arms spread in supplication, the penalty required for a plea. When she rose on stiff legs, her knees ached. She turned to find two priestesses standing behind her, one holding the bowl of sacred water. They stepped closer, and the unburdened one dipped her fingers in the bowl and dabbed the water on Chiana's brow. They bowed to Tinsharon's image, replaced the bowl on the altar and walked away, their bare feet pattering on the shining floor.

  Kerrion glowered at the man who stood before him, cursing the Contara throne's hardness, which made his posterior ache with renewed venom each time he was forced to sit upon it. The Contaran mercenary looked ill at ease, which was not surprising, since he stood before a hostile and irritable Cotti king, surrounded by gimlet-eyed soldiers. Kerrion glanced past him at the brown and green-clad man his soldiers had brought in a minute before, who interested him far more.

  "Well, speak, man, before I run out of patience," he said.

  "I bring a message, from your brother... Sire."

  "Which one? I still have far too many of them."

  "Prince Jovan, Your Majesty."

  "Ah. Him. What is it?"

  The mercenary clasped his hands behind his back, clearly striving to appear confident. "He bids me tell you to cease searching for Prince Dravis and return to Cotti."

  "Why, pray tell?"

  "He warns you that Prince Dravis plans your demise."

  "Really?" Kerrion raised his brows, glancing at his officers, who glowered at the mercenary's back. "And how does Dravis hope to achieve such a lofty goal, since he is hiding under a rock?"

  "Prince Jovan is unsure. Prince Dravis wouldn't tell him how he planned to do it, only that he does. Prince Jovan asks for leniency in return for this important information, and the reinstatement of his allowance."
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br />   "Tell him that this is no news to me, and therefore it is worthless. Of course Dravis wants me dead."

  The man shuffled his feet and cleared his throat. "In that case, he bids me tell you that it's possible that the Queen's Blade isn't dead, and he may be the means by which Dravis plots to assassinate you."

  Kerrion straightened, a frisson of alarm running up his spine. "I was told that the Queen's Blade is most certainly dead."

  "That may not be the case, Your Majesty."

  "This is Jovan's guesswork, nothing more. Even if the Queen's Blade is alive, he will not work for a Cotti, so I do not believe it."

  The mercenary nodded. "Prince Jovan only knows that Prince Dravis was confident of his success, and doesn't plan to use his familiar to achieve it. Therefore, he's deduced that Dravis still has the Queen's Blade, and the means to force him to obey."

  Kerrion shook his head. "The Queen's Blade cannot be forced, especially by a Cotti. There is nothing and no one about which he cares."

  "I know no more, Majesty. That's my message. What do you want me to tell Prince Jovan?"

  "Tell him to find a deep well, and jump in it."

  The man bowed. "As you wish, Sire."

  Kerrion glared at the mercenary's back as he left, signalling to his officers to have the Contaran followed. The King turned to Lord Batian, who leant closer.

  "Have my guards doubled tonight," Kerrion said, "and every night thereafter. I want two dogmen standing over my bed."

  "You believe this?"

  "I am unsure, but I will take no chances. If Blade is alive, and Dravis is able to force him to come after me... He is the only one who could kill me, even here, surrounded by soldiers. Do not doubt it. He has done it before."

  Batian nodded and straightened as two soldiers brought the Contaran huntsman forward. Kerrion had lost interest in the leather-clad man, his mind filled with anxiety and hope. In all likelihood, Jovan's information was bogus, perhaps intended to make Kerrion's life unpleasant, but a slight doubt remained, enough to make the Cotti King uneasy. The soldiers forced the huntsman to his knees, and at Kerrion's gesture he rose, scowling.

  "Who is this?"

  The guardsman on the left said, "We found him in the forest, Sire. He was hunting wood cats."

  "And what is so strange about that?"

  "He claims that he works for Prince Dravis."

  Kerrion studied the huntsman with renewed interest. "I see. Why did he tell you this, soldier? I see no torture marks upon him."

  "We didn't have to torture him, Majesty. He claims that Prince Dravis forced him to hunt wood cats, and he has no love for your brother."

  "Has Dravis cut out his tongue, too?"

  "No, Sire."

  Kerrion frowned at the huntsman. "Why does Dravis want you to hunt wood cats? Does he wish to enter the fur trade?"

  The man shook his head. "I don't know... Majesty. He has forced seven huntsmen to work for him, and told them all to catch wood cats. Not kill, mind you, just catch, which is a far more difficult thing to do, since wood cats are -"

  "Yes, I see. How did he force you to do this?"

  "He threatened my family."

  "Have you caught any wood cats?"

  The man shook his head. "There aren't many around these parts. They're more common in Jashimari. In Contara -"

  "Have any of the other huntsmen caught any?"

  "I don't know, but -"

  "Thank you." Kerrion gestured, and the guardsmen took the hunter's arms and led him away. "Give him a silver for his trouble."

  "What about my family?" the hunter demanded.

  "These men will go with you to protect them. You will stay at home, too."

  "But I have to provide food. I must hunt!"

  "They will see to it that you and your family are fed."

  "Thank you, Majesty, you are a good and kind king."

  Dismissing the rest of the petitioners, Kerrion rose and went into the sitting room, Batian and Prethos following. A servant poured wine for them, and Kerrion sank into a chair, scowling at the fire. Batian sat opposite, looking pensive.

  "What do you make of that, Batty?" Kerrion enquired.

  "It makes little sense."

  Kerrion tapped his fingers on his goblet, pondering. "What if Blade is not dead, and Jovan's deduction is correct?"

  "Then you are in grave danger, Sire."

  "Perhaps." Kerrion looked up. "Prethos, go and find me an advisor who has studied the Queen's Blade."

  The Prince pulled a face and put down his cup. Kerrion gazed into the fire, lost in thought. The possibility that Blade might be alive filled him with a strange mixture of relief and dread. Part of him hoped it was true, but a niggling anxiety ate at his nerves. If Blade was alive, and Dravis had found a way to coerce him, was he now in danger? What could possibly force the Jashimari assassin to work for a Cotti prince?

  Prethos returned with a stooped, bald advisor with a wizened face and an ingratiating manner, whom Kerrion did not recognise. The Prince indicated the bowing man with a languid wave of his hand.

  "Advisor Maresh claims to have studied the Queen's Blade."

  Kerrion gestured for the man to sit, which he did hesitantly, as if the chair had pins in it.

  "Maresh."

  "Sire." Maresh rose and bowed again.

  "Sit down. The Queen's Blade is cat kin, and Bereft, correct?"

  "Yes, Sire."

  "What sort of cat?"

  Maresh fiddled with the edge of his sleeve. "Wood cat, Sire."

  "Thank you. You may leave."

  Maresh rose and backed away, bowing repeatedly until he reached the door and vanished through it.

  Kerrion sipped his wine and gazed into the fire again. "It makes no sense. Why does Dravis want a wood cat? Even if it is the same kind as Blade's former familiar, he cannot use it to force Blade to do anything."

  Batian shrugged. "Perhaps it is a ruse, to frighten you. What better way to drive you from Contara than to threaten you with this assassin, and pretend to have the means to make him assassinate you? Perhaps he intended the huntsman to tell you what he did, and that is why he threatened him instead of paying him."

  "No, it still makes no sense. Dravis longs for my death. He knows that I know Blade is Bereft, and cannot be forced to assassinate me. Why would he stage such an elaborate, yet pointless hoax?"

  "Unless, since he does not have the means to kill you, he does want you out of Contara. Is that not the next best thing?"

  "I suppose so. But why would he imagine I would believe this foolishness? He even enlisted Jovan's aid. I do not believe Blade is still alive. Dravis would have been too eager to kill him. I think you are right. It is a ruse." Kerrion sipped his wine. "Still, I want those dogmen in my room."

  "Of course."

  Chapter Eighteen

  Blade looked up as the door of his cell creaked open and Dravis strutted in, looking as smug as a peardog in an orchard of overripe potpears. The assassin lounged on the narrow cot, amusing himself by throwing pebbles into the latrine bucket on the far side of the room. The pastime had used up most of the available stones in the crumbling room, and he was not prepared to fish them out of the pisspot. He had been incarcerated in the dungeon for four tendays, and the guards had lugged out many pails full of pebbles since he had found his new hobby. He supposed, if he was here long enough, he would eventually pick his way through the wall at the back of the cell in his search for fresh ammunition.

  The manacles on his wrists were almost as annoying as the leg chain that tethered him to the wall, allowing him to reach the cot, the pisspot and the table where he ate his meals. What surprised him, perhaps more than that he was still alive, was that Dravis had not tortured him since his capture. The bruises of that beating had faded, and all he suffered from now was terminal boredom. Dravis looked ready to pop with satisfaction, and Blade eyed him for a moment before hurling another stone. It landed in the empty bucket with a gratifying clatter, making Dravis start. The Prin
ce frowned at Blade, who smirked and tossed another stone with unerring accuracy.

  "Stop that," Dravis snapped.

  "Make me."

  "I will have your hands shackled behind your back."

  "Not for long."

  Dravis shook his head, clearly unwilling to enter into another argument with the assassin, which he was definitely tired of losing. "I have come to tell you that you will assassinate Kerrion."

  "Oh, I will, will I?"

  "Yes, you will."

  Blade shook his head. "Much as I would like to stick a dagger in that Cotti bastard's heart, I will not do it for you."

  "You have no choice now."

  "So, you have found an army to march me there and force my hand?" Blade threw another pebble, and the clang reverberated around the room.

  "No. I have something better." Dravis turned and beckoned to someone outside the doorway.

  Two soldiers shuffled in, carrying a cage between them. Inside it, a wood cat snarled and clawed at the bars. Blade glanced at it and chuckled, tossing another stone.

  "How droll, Dravis. You expect me to care if you slay a wood cat? You do know that I am Bereft, do you not?"

  "You once were, but my men say that a wood cat followed you from the village, and one has been seen prowling around here at night."

  Blade shrugged. "So? A curious cat. Did you think I had regained my familiar? Am I a magician now, to conjure him out of the air?"

  "Perhaps you were never Bereft, but hid him all these years. Perhaps he shunned you, and you have regained his trust."

  "Both those ideas are impossible. You really are a dolt."

  Dravis stepped closer, then thought better of it and retreated beyond the reach of Blade's leg chain once more. "So this is not the right cat, hmmm? Let us be sure." He turned to the soldiers. "Kill it."

  One of the men drew his sword and stabbed it through the bars of the cage, gored the cat's flank and made it scream and writhe. Blade's nape hairs prickled, and sweat popped out on his upper lip, but he kept his eyes on the pisspot and threw another stone. It took the soldier four stabs to kill the cat, then the men shuffled out with the cage. Dravis frowned, wincing as yet another stone hit the bucket with a resounding clang.

 

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