Master of the Dance (36 page)

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Authors: T C Southwell

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

BOOK: Master of the Dance
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Blade rubbed his fingers and glanced up at the towering cliff, settling his bag more comfortable on his back. The rough wall afforded excellent purchase for his skilled fingers, but the height of it would tire him, and take some time to ascend. For this reason, he had killed no sentries before beginning his ascent, so his presence would not be suspected. Once upon the wall, he would be vulnerable, with no hope of escape should he be spotted.

Slipping his fingers into the gap between two stones, he stepped off the wall. As he climbed, he pondered what he may find at the top. First he would have to locate Endor's rooms, and, although the Prince was in the palace tonight, there was no guarantee he would be asleep in his bed. Since it was not that late, it was highly unlikely, and he may have to wait for several time-glasses yet.

This did not bother him. Patience was something he had in abundance, and he did not think the guards would bother to inform Endor of such trifling matters as a fire in the armoury and a bitch in the outer courtyard. They would probably think it was the work of saboteurs and pranksters, on this night of revelry and bonfires. Even if they did inform him of it, there was nothing to suggest that it was the work of an assassin, who did not usually resort to such distractions. Blade disliked using such methods himself, but in this situation stealth alone would not suffice.

Halfway up the wall, he paused to rest, his fingers aching and his arms cramping. He released one hand to rub it on his hip and shake the stiffness out of his muscles, then did the same with the other. Sweat dewed his brow and his gasps steamed in the chill air. He had never attempted such a long climb, but so far, he had no cause for concern. As he continued to ascend, he decided it was just as well that he would have to wait a while when he reached the top, for by then he would require a rest. The weathered stone scraped his fingertips, making him wish that they were not quite so soft. Callused hands did not grip a dagger so well though, and what was an advantage in one situation was a disadvantage in another.

By the time he was a few feet from the top, his arms trembled with fatigue and his hands cramped. He did not glance down, for he knew the folly of contemplating the vast drop below him. One slip would end his life now. Just beneath the top of the wall, he paused to listen, straining his acute senses to detect any presence above him. Finding none, he pulled himself up the last few feet and onto the top of the wall, slipping over it into the shadows. There he rested, rubbing his hands to banish the cramps and stiffness, while he scanned the parapet for guards.

His study of the castle during the day had found only two sentries here, and they were men of hawks. This close to the Prince, dog soldiers and their smelly companions were not in abundance. Once he had rubbed the feeling back into his hands, he waited for his breathing to return to normal and his arms to stop aching. Then he crept to the door that led from the parapet, not bothering to find the two guards, who were nowhere to be seen. The door was unlocked, and he descended a short flight of steps that led to a well-lighted corridor

At the bottom of the steps he sat down and strapped on his boot-blades, muffling their metal soles with leather sheaths. He peered around the corner, finding a short corridor with many doors in it, and a pair of guards at the end of it. They were not dog soldiers, and leant on their spears, engaged in a soft conversation. Since there were no shadows in the corridor to hide him, he stepped out of the stairwell and strolled towards them. He was only a few yards away when they turned to stare at him in surprise.

Blade yanked a dagger from his belt and threw it, impaling one guard in the eye. The other gaped at his companion as the man collapsed, then lowered his spear and charged with a yell. Blade sidestepped at the last moment and kicked the man in the gut with a blade-tipped boot. The guard doubled over, dropping his spear. Blade pulled out another dagger and stabbed him in the side of the neck. The sentry collapsed, gurgling, and Blade bent to finish him off. He wiped his weapon on the man's tunic, then retrieved the other dagger and sheathed them.

Not wishing to leave the bodies where they would soon be found, Blade dragged one over to the nearest door and pushed it open, stepping back in surprise. A bevy of Cotti women turned to gaze at him, many gasping and reaching for their veils. Some lay on thin pallets or reclined on cushions strewn about the floor, and four sat in chairs. The room lacked any ornaments or amenities other than a hearth in which a fire blazed and a copper tub half hidden behind a curtain in one corner. A low table held an assortment of food, bowls of nuts and fruit, and a pitcher of wine.

A few of the girls were swollen with child, others nursed infants. Almost all of them had bruises on their arms or faces, and two had healing cuts on their lips. Without a doubt, he had stumbled upon Endor's harem. Blade raised a finger to his lips. From what he knew of Cotti women, they would not raise the alarm unless he harmed one of them, since they had no interest in the affairs of their menfolk. Most of them lowered their eyes at his gesture, returning their attention to their children or embroidery.

A doe-eyed, flaxen-haired girl rose from one of the chairs and approached him, her gaze flicking to the dead guard at his feet. Although short and buxom, she moved with supple grace and appeared to be no more than eighteen years old. The sight of the dead guard did not seem to dismay her, and she met his gaze boldly with dark brown eyes that had raked his clothing with an intelligent glance.

"Are you going to try to kill him, assassin?"

Blade inclined his head. "I am."

"You have done well to get this far."

He smiled, deciding that the girl was not Cotti, but Contara, a far bolder breed of female. "He dies tonight if I can find his bedroom."

"He is not in it as yet. He disports himself with drinking companions in the main hall. Bring the guards in."

"Will that not endanger you?"

Her lip curled. "We are nothing but lowly females, beneath the notice of men. They will not question us, but if they do, we will tell them that an assassin dumped the dead guards here. It is not our place to tell the men of your presence. We are less than animals, and they would not."

"The Cotti are fools to treat women so."

Blade dragged the guard into the harem, then went back for the second man. When he had dumped them on the floor next to the door, the doe-eyed girl gestured to the empty chair.

"Sit, have some wine while you wait."

Blade noticed that although many of the women glanced at the dead guards, none of them showed any disquiet. The doe-eyed girl gave him a cup of white wine and settled on a cushion, studying him. He grimaced when he tasted the sour young wine, and she pulled a face.

"The wine is bad. It is considered only fit for women, but it helps to alleviate our pain."

"You are a wife, are you not?"

"His favourite at the moment. Hence the special boon of a chair to sit on, while the others must sit on the floor. I am Eshra."

"Can you tell me how to find Endor's rooms?"

She smiled. "Of course. It is a journey we have all made far too often for our liking. Tonight one of us will make it again, when he sends for her."

"And the dead guards?"

"A servant comes. She will not tell anyone. Five Contara assassins have perished trying to kill him, but none of them got into the castle. How did you achieve it?"

"Up the wall."

Her eyes widened. "The tall one? All the way from the bottom?" When he nodded, she glanced at one of the other women, then asked, "What is your name?"

"Blade."

"The Queen's Blade!" Eshra's eyes sparkled, and she grinned, revealing little white teeth. "It is an honour to meet you. We have heard tales of your prowess. They are most impressive. And you defend a queen. You are a man who serves a woman." She glanced around at the other women, whose taut, stiff expressions had relaxed, many of them into smiles. "You are welcome amongst us. Were you sent by a woman?"

Not wishing to disappoint them, he nodded. "The Jashimari Regent, Chiana."

"Your wife."

"Yes." Blade was surprised at how well informed she was. "How do you know so much about me?"

"We may be kept as prisoners, but we have the means to purchase news from the outside world through the servants. The city has been abuzz with rumours of your impending arrival, ever since the other assassin failed."

"Is he dead?"

"No, he is still in the dungeons, as far as we know. Endor has been torturing him."

"Do you know where the dungeons are?"

"Of course." Eshra gave him precise directions, which made him wonder if she had been there herself. She went on to describe the way to Endor's rooms, then added, "It would be easy to dress you in a gown and veil. You could go there with the servant when Endor sends for tonight's unfortunate."

"Are there many guards between here and there?"

She shook her head. "Only the four who guard his door, now that these two are dead. I doubt that he expected you to get this close unchallenged. The rest of the castle teems with guards, but Endor likes his privacy. He does not want his men to share the joy of listening to the screams of his women."

"Then I will go there later, when he is asleep."

Eshra looked away, a fleeting expression of pain crossing her features, and he guessed that she expected to be the chosen one. "When tonight's plaything returns, he will be asleep soon after."

"And dead soon after that. You will never suffer at his hands again."

A slight, bitter smile twisted her full lips. "Many have failed. It may be you who joins your comrade in the dungeons tonight."

Blade shook his head and sipped the sour wine. "I doubt that. I do plan a particularly painful death for him, however."

Her eyes brightened. "I wish I could watch."

He considered this, wondering if it was possible. "How many guards between his rooms and the dungeons?"

"Two pairs."

"Dogs?"

"No, he keeps the dog soldiers for more important duties. Do you plan to free the other assassin?"

Blade shrugged. "I doubt that he will be in any condition to leave the castle with me."

"I did not know assassins cared for each other."

"He was my apprentice."

"Ah." Eshra gazed at him sadly. "Then you have even more reason to wish Endor dead."

Blade jumped up as the door opened, drawing two daggers from his belt. An elderly woman came in, her eyes widening when she spied him. Eshra rose and went over to her.

"It is all right, Mellin. He is here to kill that bastard."

Mellin caught sight of the dead guards and gasped, recoiling, but Eshra took her hands, distracting her. "Is it time? It is early yet."

"He is returned, full of wine and lust."

"Is it to be me?"

"No. Elya."

A plump young girl gasped and paled, receiving comforting pats and encouraging whispers from her neighbours. Blade watched her rise to her feet as he put away his daggers, noting the trembling of her hands as she pulled on her veil. Eshra went over to her and kissed her on the brow, then put an arm around her shoulders and walked with her to the door, where the serving woman waited. After they left, Blade sank down on the chair again. Eshra walked back to stand before him.

He looked up at her. "Are you certain that you can trust the serving woman?"

"Yes."

"How can you be so sure?"

"She is a woman. Around here, men are the enemy. None of us would betray you."

"Even though I am one of the enemy."

"Are you?" She reached out and stroked his cheek, then smiled. "Do not number yourself amongst those who did this to you. They do not deserve to be called your equals."

"You do not consider me to be a man?"

"No. Nor should you." She sat on the cushion before him. "They are pigs, ruled by their lusts. Made cruel and depraved by them. You are pure. Be proud of it."

Blade contemplated her. "You have suffered much at the hands of one, but not all men are cruel."

"Perhaps not, but I have yet to meet one who is not. And even if you were a... an uncut man, you are here to kill Endor, which makes you our ally. We will do all we can to help you."

"Does he keep any guards in his room?"

She shook her head. "He considers himself safe with four outside his door. His windows overlook one of the inner courtyards, which is full of soldiers."

"Good."

She tilted her head, considering him. "How do you plan to get past the guards?"

"Kill them."

"Without awakening Endor?"

"Yes."

Eshra looked doubtful. "If he wakes, he has but to shout out of the window and dozens of men will be upon you in a few minutes. Considering how you got in, you will not be able to escape."

"All assassinations have an element of risk."

"Some more than others."

He nodded. "The fact that no assassin has ever got into the castle before has made Endor overconfident. He is well prepared, but he, or his captains, overlooked the wall. All his men are guarding the way through the castle, which only a fool would attempt.

She smiled. "But you did not know that when you climbed up here. He might have had a dozen men outside his door and another dozen in his room, standing over his bed with their swords drawn. What would you have done then?"

"Climbed back down and thought up another plan. But I know Cotti princes. I have killed enough of them. They dislike bodyguards. They pride themselves in their combat skills, and I have never known one to have more than six guards outside his door. Endor is the best protected that I have had to deal with, but now only four men remain to stop me."

"And if it had been six?"

Blade shrugged. "It would have been a little more difficult."

"How do you plan to kill four soldiers without allowing them to give a single shout of warning?"

"Quickly."

Eshra glanced at the corpses. "You have already managed two, but four?"

He smiled. "I have done it before."

Eshra glanced around at the women, many of whom were settling down for the night, cuddling whimpering infants or stretching out on their pallets. Rising, she doused some of the lamps, then returned to ply him with more questions. Many of them, especially those pertaining to what he planned to do with Endor, he could not answer, since he had not yet considered that.

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