Sacrifice: The Queen's Blade (16 page)

Spontaneous applause burst from the nobles, and she became aware that they were the centre of attention, the only couple still dancing before an admiring throng. Blade frowned and led her from the floor, but not before she had glimpsed young noblemen attempting to emulate Blade's steps.

"It seems that you have started a new trend," she commented as she flopped gasping into her chair.

"A short-lived one." He picked up his cup.

"I would not be so sure."

"I would. The war will end all this soon enough."

Her smile faded at the sobering thought, and she turned in surprise as a young nobleman appeared at Blade's side, bowing. He wore a lopsided wig, and his garish clothes branding him a court fop.

"My Lord," he said, "I would be honoured if you would teach me to dance as you do, and I would pay handsomely for the privilege."

Blade scowled at the hapless boy. "Begone. Go fawn over someone else."

The fop retreated, meeting up with a group of his cronies, to whom he imparted his sorrowful news. Chiana giggled at Blade's stormy expression.

"You could make a good living, I will wager."

He glared, then smiled. "Can you imagine it?" He shook his head. "Me teaching a classroom of those dandies to dance?"

Chiana laughed with him, a precious moment that she knew would never be repeated, but it made the magical night complete. Soon after, Blade claimed to be tired and left the ball. Chiana gazed after him sadly, although a spark of joy still burnt within her. Her waist tingled from his touch and her heart ached for the words and gestures of affection that she would never receive from him. If all she could ever attain was his friendship she would be content, even though she longed for more.

Reaching his rooms, Blade flopped down on his bed, then remembered that he was to sleep in the Queen's rooms and went there. The manservant who awaited him jumped up at his entry, looking worried.

"My Lord, the Queen has not yet returned."

Blade waved him away. "Let the spies think that I'm visiting the Princess or the damned sand cat, I don't care."

The man looked embarrassed. "I will need your clothes, My Lord."

"Am I to confront this assassin naked?"

"No, My Lord, I have other clothes for you."

The manservant picked up a bundle of leather clothes and held it out, and Blade took it with a nod. When they had exchanged clothes, the servant showed him a narrow cot hidden behind some curtains, and the assassin lay down on it with a sigh.

The sound of the door opening woke him, and soft footfalls crossed the floor. A waft of flowery scent told him that the Queen had returned, and he did not bother to open his eyes.

Minna approached the curtains and pulled them aside, frowning at the sleeping assassin. His lack of alertness annoyed her, and she stamped her foot, growing angry when he did not rouse. Determined to teach him a lesson he would not forget, she bent to slap his face. Blade's hand flashed up to grab her wrist before her hand struck him, and his eyes opened. He smiled at her astonishment.

"Have a care, My Queen, you may bruise your hand on my bony face."

"I thought you were asleep."

"Obviously I am not."

She stepped back, and he released her. "Obviously. But you had a great deal of wine tonight."

"Not even enough to lighten my mood."

Minna turned away. "Sleep then."

"I shall try."

The assassin slept little that night, or the four nights thereafter, since Princess Kerra's bawling woke him every few time-glasses. He plugged his ears and stuffed his head under his pillow, but nothing could block out the infant's high-pitched shrieks. By the sixth night, he was praying that the killers would come before he was driven insane. He slept during the day to recoup his loss at night, wary of becoming so tired that suspicious noises would not rouse him. His stern instructions that he not be disturbed kept all visitors away, and he barely saw Chiana during that time.

On the sixth night, Blade snapped awake and stared at the ceiling in confusion, for silence filled the room. He strained to hear something, but even Shista's snores were absent. Focussing his hearing, he picked up the Queen's even breaths and Kerra's soft gasps, then a whisper of sound so faint that he hardly noticed it. He almost relaxed, thinking it was Shista prowling around, but a waft of alien scent made him tense again. Wood smoke, mixed with stale sweat, a smell that did not belong in the Queen's bed chamber.

With infinite care, he sat up and opened the curtain a slit, drawing a dagger from under the mattress. The double doors were open a crack, admitting a shaft of light. A shadow moved across it, a fleeting glimpse of a shape swallowed up by the gloom. Even as he lost sight of the first assassin, a second figure momentarily filled the doorway as another man entered the room. This one stopped just inside the door, while the first crept towards the cradle.

Blade inserted his dagger into the slit through which he peered, keeping it open while he groped for a second weapon. The intruder's form was almost invisible in the gloom, and Blade strained to make it out, aware that he could not afford to miss his target. The killer had almost reached the cradle, his footfalls silent. Blade stood slowly, hardly daring to breathe, his eyes locked on his quarry. He drew back his throwing arm, widening the gap in the curtains as he did so.

With a flick of his wrist, he flung the weapon. A meaty thud and a gasp came from the creeping figure, then it slumped. Blade leapt from his hiding place and hurled the second dagger at the man by the door. Another thud and a loud cry of pain rewarded his throw. The Queen sat up with a gasp, and the man by the door raised his arm, aiming something at Blade. The assassin dropped to the floor as a crossbow bolt hissed over him and ricocheted off the wall.

Blade jumped up as the man turned to flee. Snatching a third dagger from under the mattress, he flung it at the dark form. The intruder cried out again, falling against the door as the weapon struck him between the shoulder blades. The doors flew open with a bang, admitting a flood of light from the torches in the corridor. Blade strode over to the first man he had felled as the Queen tugged on the bell pull beside her bed to summon servants and guards. The strange assassin was dead, and Blade crossed to the man by the door, finding him in the same condition.

Queen Minna-Satu dashed to the cradle and swept up her daughter, who began to cry. Blade went into the corridor, where he found six guards sprawled on the floor, with no sign of how they had died.

"Poison," he muttered, entering the bed chamber again with a torch from the corridor to light the lamps.

Minna clutched the wailing baby and stared at the slain assassin. Blade crouched to examine the man in the light, pulling his dagger from the assassin's throat. His dark grey clothes, made of smooth cloth, betrayed his kind, and Blade glanced up at the pale, shivering Queen.

"A Contara assassin, My Queen."

"And the other?"

Blade went over to the second corpse and flipped it onto its back, retrieving his daggers. "A Jashimari lord, I would say."

Minna gazed at the dead face. "Lord Javare."

"Just as you thought."

"Where are the guards?"

"Dead, poisoned."

She stared at him, horrified. "But how could they be?"

Blade shrugged as a five handmaidens ran in, clad in rumpled nightgowns, their hair loose about their shoulders. They gave little shrieks of horror and alarm when they spotted the corpses.

"I do not know," he said. "Perhaps your guard sergeant would be able to help you."

A maiden took the screaming Princess and hastened out. Another ran to fetch guards and servants while the rest helped the Queen back to her bed and offered her a cup of wine. A minute later a dozen soldiers ran in, and some bent to examine the bodies of Blade's victims while the rest inspected the slain sentries. The assassin washed his weapons in the basin and sheathed them in his belt, then stood back to watch the uproar. The guard sergeant arrived and barked orders at his men, who dragged the bodies out, leaving bloody smears on the floor. Three menservants hurried in, and the officer dispatched them to fetch mops and pails to clean up the blood.

Blade turned to Minna. "If I may, I should like to return to my bed now, My Queen."

"Wait a minute, My Lord," the guard sergeant said. "Would you tell me what happened here?"

"I would have thought that fairly obvious. These two tried to assassinate the Princess, and I killed them."

"But what were you doing here?"

"The Queen asked me to guard her."

The officer glanced at Minna, who nodded, and he bowed to Blade before following his men. Blade yawned and sent an enquiring look at the Queen, who shuddered.

"How can you be sleepy after this?"

He shrugged. "It is not new to me."

"I suppose not. Very well, you may go."

The assassin bowed and headed for the door, then stopped and glanced back when Minna-Satu called his name. She forced a wan smile. "I thank you, My Lord."

He bowed again, and left as the servants returned with mops and pails.

In the corridor, he found the sand cat hurrying towards him, sniffing the air. She passed him with a low growl, trotting towards the Queen's rooms with the loose-jointed gait of her kind.

"You are too late, Shista," he called after her. "Some guardian you are."

The cat paused to spit at him before hurrying on, and Blade smiled as he walked to his rooms. Sitting on the bed, he reviewed the night's events, his blood still thrumming with excitement. His pretence of tiredness had merely been an excuse to leave the room, for the sight of blood made his stomach clench. He was not about to reveal to anyone that the deadliest assassin in the land was squeamish. His usual method caused little or no blood to be spilt, but tonight had been messy and, in his opinion, sloppy.

Arken woke Blade with lunch at midday. When he had eaten and dressed, a deep depression fell upon him as he contemplated his actions over the last year and their consequences. The future had never looked as bleak as it did now, not even when he had been lying half dead in a whore's bed wondering if he would ever walk again, never mind dance. Then his situation had improved, but now there was no hope. When Chiana came to see him, her eyes shining with pride, he eyed her sullenly.

"So you have done it again, My Lord. The Queen speaks your praises to the entire court."

"I trust she has no more titles to confer or spinsters to wed?"

Her smile faded. "Why are you angry?"

The assassin turned to stare out of the window. "It is all so futile. In a few days this city will fall and the Princess may die anyway. By that time, the Queen will be dead and Jashimari will have no ruler. But then it will not matter, because you will all be slaves of the Cotti or Contara and I shall be dead, doubtless by Kerrion's hand.

"I have caused this, by assassinating King Shandor and Lerton. Even the two I killed last night and the lord I slew moons ago have helped to cause this situation. All that I have earned, my lands and wealth, are useless to a corpse. I never even had the time to enjoy them. I should never have come here. I could have slipped away now and lived, but instead, I am the most wanted man in the land."

"I thought you did not care about anything, not even your own life."

"Who told you that?"

She shrugged. "I forget."

"In truth I do not. I have always placed myself in death's way, but it would not take me. Now that it is a certainty, I am starting to doubt its attractions, especially a painful end. A few years of retirement on a quiet estate would have been nice, enjoying the pleasures of food and wine, getting fat and lazy. Now it will not happen."

"You could still flee, disguise yourself..."

He shook his head. "It is too late for that. Why do you think people are pouring into the city? Because they are being slaughtered outside."

"I have heard that the Cotti army have only killed the troops who stood in their way. They have left whole villages unharmed."

He smiled wryly. "Kerrion is no fool. He will make sure I do not slip past him, even in disguise. I will wager that he has his troops pulling the hair of every woman they encounter. Anyway, he will never stop searching for me, and I will not skulk and hide for the rest of my life. I just wish it had not all been for nothing."

"But it was not for nothing! You brought Kerrion here so the Queen's plan was put into action, you placed him on the throne so we could win peace -"

He held up a hand. "I do not mean that. I do not care about politics. I am talking about my reward. Apart from a few brief tendays that I spent at my estate I have had nothing but unhappiness. Living in this mausoleum, bowing and scraping to the Queen, wearing damned foppish clothes and almost being killed by her enemies. I cannot even go into the city and have a quiet drink without a damned bodyguard. Now my death warrant is signed and sealed, by my own hand."

"I did not realise you felt that way."

"Did you think I did it for loyalty's sake?" He gave a bitter laugh. "How little you know me. I did it for the reward and the vengeance, which was, admittedly, sweet. But then I got caught up in all the plotting and pomp, even being sent to Kerrion's city to save his neck from the gallows. I wanted none of that.

"I am an angry, bitter, selfish man. There is not a shred of loyalty in me, I assure you. I wanted riches and luxury, power and indolence, all from the sweet triumph of killing King Shandor. Instead, I got this."

His voice rose, and he gestured. "Swift was right, I have become the Queen's pet killer. I can get no other work while I am cooped up here and watched wherever I go. I set in motion the future that leads to my death! I changed it, but I did not want this!"

Blade ripped off his silk shirt and flung it across the room. "I did not want any of this! Meaningless baubles! Useless titles! Worthless damned finery!" He strode to the mantelpiece and swept the priceless figurines and vases off it with a crash of smashed crystal. Chiana flinched, stepping back as the shards skittered past her feet.