Invisible Assassin (33 page)

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Authors: T C Southwell

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Epic

BOOK: Invisible Assassin
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Chiana veered away from the throne and walked down the three shallow steps that brought her to Armin's level. Ignoring him, she moved towards her husband, forcing Armin and the others to step aside. Stopping before Blade, she allowed her eyes to roam over him, taking in, with stunned horror, the bruises on his bare torso, the ugly red welts of torture on his chest and the blackened fingers of his left hand.

His left leg rested on the ground, but he put no weight on it, and it was bound with a splint. His hands were tied before him with thin leather thongs, and a gag cut into his mouth. Her heart raced as rage coursed through her in a cold tide, the blood draining from her impassive features. When he did not raise his head, Chiana turned to Armin, her eyes raking his visage as she spoke in a cold tone.

"Who has done this to my husband?"

The Prince straightened. "I have. You may call him a lord, but he is an assassin, and I charge him with the deaths of my three brothers as well as an attempt upon my life."

Chiana forced herself to remain calm, stemming an impulse to slap his smug face. "Really? How strange that is, coming from the man who hired him."

The judges stiffened at her words, glancing at the Prince, who smiled, his eyes hard. "So, he managed to send a message to you. Or perhaps he lied as a matter of course."

"My husband would not lie to me, Prince Armin."

One of the judges asked, "He told you Prince Armin was his client when he returned from Jadaya?"

"That is correct." Chiana nodded. "He told me of the entire plot, naturally."

"I do not believe you," Armin snarled. "Assassins never reveal their clients. You, like him, seek to bring me down with false accusations. He to save his life, and you to avenge his suffering."

"I am not a liar, and since you have obviously tortured my husband, there can be no doubt as to the truth of his words. You will release him at once."

Armin raised his hands in a helpless gesture. "I am out-manoeuvred." He nodded to the soldiers. "Let him go."

The men stepped away and let the assassin slump to the floor. Redgard and two guards rushed forward to untie Blade's hands and remove the gag. Chiana blinked back tears as they helped him to his feet, her heart aching at his soft gasps of pain. Anyone else in his state would have been groaning with it, and for all his prior protestations of cowardice, she admired his courage now. The assassin raised his head, and his gaze rested on the Prince with such deep loathing that she shivered.

Armin ignored Blade, addressing Chiana once more. "Since that is now settled, I have a request before I go. I wish to see my niece."

"Impossible," she snapped, noticing, out of the corner of her eye, Blade's eyes narrow.

"I must insist. I am still a Cotti prince, and your young Queen's uncle. If I am to be executed for a crime I did not commit, I require to see her first."

"You did commit the crime, and traitors do not demand such privileges."

"I am not yet judged, and until then I still command the full power of a Cotti prince. Bring me my niece!" Armin winced and rubbed his jaw, frowning. He seemed to have trouble speaking, and she noticed that his movements were jerky at times.

She glanced at the judges as the eldest stated, "He is right, you must obey him, Regent. He is not yet condemned. Only the King can do that."

Chiana raised her chin, her heart thudding with anger. The last thing she wanted was to delay his departure for a moment longer, when every fibre of her being cried out to call a healer for her husband's pain. "Very well. But once you have seen her, you will leave."

Armin inclined his head and smirked. "With pleasure."

She clapped her hands, and a servant trotted out to summon the Queen's entourage.

Chiana turned to the Cotti. "The soldiers will leave."

Armin nodded, gesturing to his men, who marched out. He seemed to be too easy with the situation, too smug for one who had just been accused of a crime he had not committed, and his protestations of innocence had been too quickly curtailed. Chiana glanced at Blade, longing to embrace him and summon a healer to care for his injuries, but protocol constrained her.

The assassin watched the Prince with deep suspicion, the slight wheeze of his breathing the only sound. Now that he had lifted his head she was able to see his face, and pain stabbed her heart. One side of his jaw was swollen and blue, and dried blood crusted his nostrils. He swayed on the leg that supported him, and she wondered why he did not seek a healer now that he was able. His eyes never left the Prince, and the rage that burnt in their depths far exceeded any she had seen there before.

The door at the back of the room opened to admit the Queen's attendants, three maidens clad in silk and lace, the tallest bearing the infant Queen. Kerra-Manu gurgled, waving chubby arms as the girl bore her towards her uncle. Armin straightened when he spied the satin bundle, a smile twisting his lips. The maidens stopped before him, and Armin stepped closer to gaze down at his niece.

"She has Kerrion's hair," he murmured. "How small and fragile she is. A mere scrap of life."

 

Blade tugged at the officers who supported him, muttering, "Get me closer."

Chiana did not appear to notice the assassin's slow approach, her gaze fixed upon Armin. Blade gritted his teeth, pain shooting through him with every movement. The officers helped him to within a few feet of the Prince, then stopped. The tableau seemed frozen in time as the Cotti prince leant over the gurgling infant. Chiana watched him, as indeed, everyone in the room did. The moment was tense, but no one was more aware of it than Blade, who was as tight as a coiled spring as he waited for the movement he was certain would come.

Armin's hand dropped to his belt, and Blade spied the glint of metal as he lifted it. The assassin launched himself at the Prince, taking the officers by surprise as he leapt from their support. His good leg provided the strength to throw himself at Armin, but his broken leg buckled and he hissed as he crashed into the Prince, thrusting the maiden who held the Queen aside.

Armin's jewelled dagger, scything upwards to impale the Queen, struck Blade in the chest. Chiana gasped as the assassin gave a coughing grunt and fell, almost dragging Armin down with him. He did not have the strength to hold onto the Prince, and Armin twisted free.

Blade hit the floor hard and sprawled. Armin swung away, his eyes wild as he sought a way to escape while the rest of the people in the room stood frozen with shock. Blade raised his head and tried to focus on Armin, his vision blurred. Pulling a second dagger from his belt, Armin sprang at the Regent. One arm whipped around her neck while his other hand held the dagger to her breast.

"Stay back!" he bellowed. "Or she dies!"

The guards froze in the act of leaping forward, and Redgard frowned at the Prince. "Harm the Regent, and you will be executed right here in Jondar."

The Prince gave a wild cackle. "What difference does that make to me now? If I am to die for something I did not do, then I will take her with me. Imagine the chaos that will follow! A kingdom without a Regent, ruled by an infant Queen whose father is the Cotti King. Civil war will tear your land apart."

"You cannot do this, My Prince!" a judge cried.

"Be silent, fool!" Armin snarled. "If you had not believed their lies, I would not be in this situation." He tightened his hold on Chiana. "You lied! Admit it! Tell them I did not hire that damned assassin or you die!"

"You just tried to murder the Queen," she gritted.

"'Twas the maiden I struck at. The Queen was to have been my hostage, not you. I demand justice! I demand the truth!"

Blade rolled onto his side, blood bubbling around the dagger in his chest. His vision dimmed, and bright spots danced in his eyes, yet he levered himself onto one elbow. With a great effort, he reached up and pulled the dagger out with his right hand, hissing through clenched teeth.

Raising his head again, he focussed on Armin. Chiana shielded his torso, leaving only his head as a target. Armin, intent on Chiana, was unaware of his danger. Blade raised the dagger in a trembling hand. His strength ebbed and time ran out as his life leaked away with the blood that bubbled from his wound. Gripping the jewelled weapon's blade, he flicked it at the Cotti Prince and slumped onto his back.

 

Armin stiffened as the dagger struck him in the eye. His weapon cut a thin red line across Chiana's throat as he fell backwards with a crash of armour on stone. Chiana tottered when he released her, and Redgard rushed to her side. Without a glance at the dead Prince, Chiana ran to the assassin and fell to her knees.

Blade's eyes were closed, and he breathed in shallow, rapid gasps, blood staining his lips. Chiana gave a cry of anguish and clamped her hands over the wound to try to stem the blood. Blade opened his eyes and gazed at her blankly for a moment, then they filled with concern.

"You are bleeding..." he whispered.

"It is nothing, a scratch."

He swallowed, his eyes roving over her face. "Chiana..."

Chiana tried to plug his wound with trembling hands, becoming frantic when her efforts failed and the blood ran across his skin in warm crimson lines. Behind her, confused shouts arose as Redgard bellowed for a healer and soldiers sprinted to summon one, clattering from the room.

Chiana's voice cracked with anguish. "Please... do not die."

A faint, sweet smile twisted his lips. "Sorry, little dove."

She sobbed, and tears ran down her cheeks. "No! Do not leave me, Blade."

The assassin coughed blood. "Forget me."

"No. Never."

Blade's hand crept up to take hers in a gentle clasp, and she gave a choked cry at the sight of his blackened, mutilated fingers. Bowing her head, she kissed his broken hand, unable to imagine the pain that this simple gesture caused him, her tears salting his skin with her sorrow. Raising her eyes to his face, she sobbed as fresh pain lanced through her heart. Tears welled from his eyes and ran into his hair.

"Blade..." Her throat closed, choking off her words. Yet nothing she could think of to say seemed relevant at that moment. All she wanted to do was cry his name over and over again as if that would hold him here. His breathing grew more laboured, a painful wheeze as he struggled to draw air into lungs that were filling with blood. He swallowed again, blinking, and mouthed silent words, then grimaced.

Chiana wiped the blood from his lips as his eyes closed. With a cry of utter desolation, she slid an arm around his neck and pulled him into her arms. She held him to her, his cheek pressed to the soft velvet of her gown, the blood that oozed from his lips staining it with vivid scarlet. Blade relaxed, the last of the tension ebbing from him, and Chiana wept without restraint.

Redgard knelt beside her, scowling at the assassin. "I have summoned a healer, Regent."

Chiana shook her head. "It is too late... call the High Priestess." Her voice strengthened. "He is a sacred Knight of the Veil; he must be attended by the High Priestess!"

"Regent..."

"Are you blind, Captain? Call her at once!"

Redgard bellowed the order at his men, then laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "The Queen is unharmed."

"Good. Leave me be." She drew back to gaze down at Blade's still, pale face, the lines of suffering smoothed from it at last. Redgard rose and moved away, giving her privacy for her remaining moments with her unconscious husband.

"You saved her too, my love," she whispered. Her tears dripped onto his skin, mingling with his. "My beautiful, valiant husband. You did not deserve the scorn that was heaped upon your head." Chiana sobbed and gulped. "I love you, Conash."

Blade's soft gasps were almost inaudible, yet a thread of life still held him. Verdan ran in, summoned despite Chiana's order. He hurried to the assassin's side and sank to one knee, but a glance at his patient made him pale and recoil, meeting Redgard's eyes. The old healer shook his head and stood up, gazing down at the Regent who cradled her dying husband in her arms.

"I cannot help him."

Redgard stared at him, horrified. "Is there nothing...?"

Verdan shook his head. "Not this time. Even Lord Conash cannot survive a wound like that."

Redgard turned away, clearly unable to bear the sight of his Regent's sorrow, or perhaps his lord's demise. Chiana pulled Blade closer and bent to kiss his brow, then rested her cheek against his as she whispered soft words of love, begging him to live even when she knew he would not.

A commotion at the back of the throne room signalled the arrival of the High Priestess. The slap of sandaled feet hastened closer until they stopped beside Chiana. She looked up at the granite-faced priestess, uncaring of the tears that ran down her cheeks.

A flicker of remorse crossed the old woman's features. She knelt beside Blade and held out her hands for the grey vestment worn in the ritual of death. One of her maidens handed it to her, and she draped the gold-edged cloth around her neck. The rustle of her robes was the only sound in the vast room until she spoke into the hush.

"I hereby commend this man's soul into the loving arms of Tinsharon, our great lord. Let him find peace in the Everlasting. Let Tinsharon embrace him in his infinite forgiveness, as he passes from this life to the next. I absolve him of all wrongdoing. May God hear my words." She took a golden cup from a priestess and dipped her fingers into it, anointing Blade's brow with holy water in the sacred sign of Tinsharon. "Go in peace, Sir Conash."

The High Priestess rose and gestured to her priestesses, who joined her next to the wall. They would wait for the assassin to die, then begin the chants of death while he was shrouded. Redgard, apparently desperate for something to do, ordered his men to remove the Cotti judges who stood in the centre of the room. They herded the judges out and dragged Armin's body in their wake, leaving Redgard to wait by the door with two guards. Verdan lingered, gazing at the Regent and the assassin she held so tenderly to her breast, his blood staining her rich dress. Behind the throne, the three maidens huddled around the swaddled bundle of the Queen. Strangely, the earlier ruckus did not appear to have bothered Kerra, though she seemed a little subdued.

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