The Queen's Blade (16 page)

"Of course. I suspected it."

Kerrion stared into his wine. "It is uncanny. The first time I saw him, he was a Cotti woman with blond hair and dark skin, a woman's voice and graceful ways. No one would see through his disguise, I will wager. Not even someone who knew him as a man."

"He must hate it," she mused.

"I would say so."

"Death walks beside him, and he will not escape it until he embraces it."

Kerrion nodded. "He is aptly named, for he cuts both ways, just as a blade would. No one is truly safe from him. Do not imagine that you have a hold of him, Minna. A blade cannot be safely grasped, it cuts any who touch it. Hold it lightly and you may be safe, take a firmer grip, and you will lose your fingers."

She gazed at him, impressed. His deduction made a great deal of sense. "I shall bear that in mind."

After Kerrion left, Minna spent the afternoon wrestling with her problem. That he was not about to be persuaded was now obvious, and she had to find another way. Chiana's interruption with the day's business was unwelcome, and she dealt with it as quickly as possible.

By dusk, she had arrived at the only possible solution, and no matter how she pondered the problem, no other choices presented themselves. Her mind made up, she invited Blade to dine with her.

The assassin arrived at the allotted time, clad once more in his old clothes. He glanced around, finding himself alone with the Queen.

"Has Kerrion fallen from favour, My Queen?"

"In some ways."

They sat down to a simple meal, and Blade filled his wine cup under her worried gaze. He caught her glance and smiled. "Do not make yourself uneasy, I do not intend to get drunk."

"I am glad to hear it, for there is a matter I wish to discuss with you."

He spooned braised lamb cutlets in lemon sauce onto his plate. "Ah."

Minna studied him, trying to fathom his mood, but his countenance gave nothing away and his slight smile mocked her efforts. "I have been thinking about your reputation."

He glanced at her, his smile fading.

She hurried on, "You are called the Invisible Assassin because no one sees you, so I must deduce that you are a master of disguise."

Blade shrugged. "Yes."

"I need your help in that regard. I need a disguise that no one can see through, even one who knows me."

"I see."

"Will you help me?"

He sampled the lamb. "How well does this person know you?"

"Quite well."

"By voice as well as sight?"

"Yes."

The assassin took a sip of wine. "And how close will the encounter be?"

"Very close."

He eyed her. "Touching?"

"Yes." She looked away, a flush warming her cheeks as Blade's strange eyes seemed to pierce her soul with their chilly gaze, and she was glad when he lowered them to his plate.

He concentrated on his food. "That makes it a little more difficult, for you will not be able to use skin dyes. They tend to rub off, unless you use the permanent variety, and I suspect you would not wish to do that."

"No, I must be myself again the next day."

His eyes flicked over her face again. "You will have to wear a wig, red, I think. Some kohl and powder, a little paint, and you must whisper."

"All right."

"When do you wish to do it?"

"Tomorrow night. I shall come to your room quite late. No one else must know of this. It must be our secret."

"Very well. May I ask why you wish to do this, My Queen? You may have your pick of consorts."

"I cannot tell you just yet, but one day soon, I shall."

The assassin regarded her from under lowered brows. "I should warn you that Kerrion does not approve of loose women. He professes not to lie with whores, so be sure that he does not mistake you for one. Whether he lies with anything is another matter, I know nothing of his preferences."

Minna stared at him, dumbstruck, then gathered her wits. "How dare you? Do not presume to know what I intend."

"Am I wrong?"

She looked away, embarrassed and confused. The assassin was far too perceptive, and she could not reveal the reason for her actions, which compounded her guilt. "No, you are right."

"Then he is a fool if he does not desire you."

"There is much more to it than that."

"Politics." His eyes narrowed. "This is folly."

"What is?"

"To place the daughter of a Cotti king upon the Jashimari throne."

Minna sighed, shaking her head. "You are too clever."

"I did not come this far on stupidity. Do you think that your people will accept her?"

"They will have little choice, she will inherit by law."

He looked down at his food, toying with it. "They may demand that you bear a full-blooded Jashimari Queen. That is within their rights, I believe."

"I shall not."

"Obviously Prince Kerrion does not agree with this scheme of yours, which shows some little wit on his part."

"Does this mean you will not help me?"

He raised his eyes to her face, and she met his gaze with a defiant one. He shook his head. "I have agreed to help you, My Queen. I do not go back on my word."

She took a gulp of wine to steady her nerves. For the time it had taken him to answer, she had thought that he would refuse. The possibility had shaken her, for she knew of no way to make him obey. "And you can make sure that Kerrion does not recognise me?"

He shrugged and turned his attention to his meal once more. "A lot depends upon you. You will have to act the part of a servant or handmaiden. You must be humble and obedient, you may not argue or object to anything he wishes. The best way is to imagine that you are who you claim to be, give yourself a name and take on the personality of the person you wish to emulate. Forget that you are a queen and become an awestruck handmaiden whose greatest wish is to bed the Cotti Prince. Do you think you can do that?"

Minna nodded, her eyes wide. "Is that how you do it?"

"No. I am an assassin. I would be of little use if I forgot that."

"Of course." She resumed her meal, which had become tasteless and unappetising. "Is there anything else I must do?"

"Yes. Bathe before you come to me and use no oils or perfume. I shall purchase something exotic and unfamiliar for you to wear."

Minna glanced at him, smiling at the incongruous picture his words conjured up. "Will it not seem strange for a man to buy perfume and women's clothes? What will the traders think?"

"Men buy such things for their wives and sweethearts all the time, there is nothing strange about it."

"I suppose so." Her smile broadened. "Have you ever bought such things before?"

A frown furrowed his brow. "This venture of yours may still fail, if the Prince is as he claims, and unmoved by your charms. I shall purchase a potion as well, which you must put in his wine at dinner. It will make him more... amenable."

The Queen concentrated on pushing her food around her plate, a flush warming her cheeks again. After the maidens had cleared away the plates, Minna leant back on her cushions and studied the man opposite her. His reticence irritated her. She longed to know more about him, but knew that he would not discuss his past with her, nor had she Kerrion's knack of goading him into speech. Blade sipped his wine and studied a tapestry.

Minna broke the silence. "Have you no objection to a queen who is the daughter of your enemy?"

He glanced at her. "By the time she takes power, I shall either be dead, or too old to care."

"I know that you despise this plan, but it is not mine."

"No?"

"No. Some moons ago, I summoned Shamsara and asked for his advice. He gave me a prediction, that peace will come to the land when a child who is neither Jashimari nor Cotti sits upon the Jashimari throne."

"And what of the Cotti throne? Why should their blood remain unsullied while we have a half breed Queen?"

She considered that, frowning. "That is an excellent point, I grant you, but I doubt that a Jashimari bride would live long in Cotti lands, even under Kerrion's protection. Still, it should be attempted."

"And what of your daughter? Do you think that she will live long if the people hate her?"

"They cannot kill their queen, that would leave them without a ruler, and plunge the land into anarchy. Kerrion would invade and conquer Jashimari."

"They will not kill you, My Queen, only your daughter. Then you will have to bear another heir, and Kerrion will have returned to his kingdom."

"That is why I shall need you." She gazed at him. "My loyal spies will inform me of the plots, and you will take care of those who would pit themselves against me. When it is announced that the Idol of the Beasts has sanctioned this child, even some who dislike the idea will take my side."

Blade nodded, turning his attention elsewhere once more, and shortly after, Minna-Satu gave him leave to go.

Chapter Ten

The following morning, Blade walked into the city. He declined the horse that the grooms offered, for he had ever been more comfortable on foot, and found it less conspicuous. Clad in his dark clothes, he strolled along the broad streets that ran through the centre of Jondar. The metropolis bustled with people, mostly well-dressed merchants and nobles, in this more affluent area.

Carriages rumbled past on the cobbled streets, and sweaty servants carried ladies in sedan chairs. Street cleaners collected dung to fill the little carts they pulled, which they would add to the vast compost heaps on the city's outskirts. When it was sufficiently mature, they would sell it to farmers and gardeners to enrich their soil.

Noblemen rode in gossiping groups, or sprawled on benches outside drinking establishments and sipped ale or wine. An occasional park afforded a place for the children of nobles and merchants to play when the schools closed. Officers of the Watch patrolled, on hand to chase away urchins or pickpockets who strayed from the slums. Most of the buildings were constructed from dressed stone, their steep grey slate roofs designed slough off the winter snow.

Merchants displayed their wares under tarpaulins outside their shops, and women examined bolts of cloth or haggled over ornaments, jewellery and leather goods. Many of the nobles watched Blade pass with narrow eyes, but while his garb hinted at his profession, it did not reveal it sufficiently to evoke any spitting or rude comments.

Blade was more at home when he reached the narrow, filthy back alleys in which he had spent so much of his life. Beggars rattled tin cups at passers-by, and pickpockets moved amongst the pedestrians with busy hands. Men stepped from his path with furtive glances, while harridans nudged their fellows and cast him knowing looks. A few thin horses pulled rickety carts, and rising damp stained the white-washed buildings. The stench of garbage mingled with the sickly scent of incense and stale ale. Drunkards lay in the gutter or slumped in doorways, their pockets doubtless picked clean.

Raucous singing emanated from taprooms, and housewives threw buckets of slops into the gutter. Urchins picked through the garbage and fought with dogs for scraps of bread. Threading his way through the whores and beggars, Blade headed for a familiar building tucked away in a dead end street. He entered a dingy taproom populated by a few drunken men and several dishevelled harlots. Rough-hewn tables and benches cluttered the soot-stained taproom, and mildewed rushes covered the floor. A glance into the darkest corners ascertained that the one he sought was not there, and he gripped the arm of a passing trollop. She leered up at him, but he ignored her gap-toothed invitation.

"Where's Lilu?" he asked, using the common speech.

Her smile vanished. "Her again! She's in the back, but she's busy. I'm not though."

He pushed her away. "I can see why."

The whore cursed him vilely as he walked away, heading for the dirty curtain that separated the rooms at the back from the taproom. Making his way to Lilu's room, he became aware, as he neared it, of the thuds and shrieks coming from within. Not caring if he interrupted her client, he thrust open the sagging door and walked in.

Lilu knelt before a brawny man, whose hand gripped her tangled brown hair. Blade stopped and eyed them, and at the sight of him Lilu cried, "Blade! Help me! He's trying to kill me!"

The man shook her. "Liar! I want my money back, you filthy whore! You stole from me!"

Lilu wailed, "Help me, Blade!"

The assassin stepped back, leant against the wall and folded his arms. "If you stole from the man, give it back."

"I can't! I don't have it any more!"

The man growled and slapped her. "You'd better find it, you damned whore!"

Lilu clutched her torn dress and wailed again, clawing at the big man's beefy hands. "Let me go, you bastard! Don't you know what he is?"

The man glanced at Blade, but the assassin spread his hands and shrugged. His throat was covered, so no outward token of his trade showed. He recognised the man as a local armourer, a towering giant covered with muscles earned from years spent at the forge. He had no intention of tangling with such a brute.

"I'll not interfere," he assured the armourer.

"Damn you, Blade!" Lilu shrieked. "You owe me!"

"Be quiet, bitch!" the armourer roared, dragging her towards the lumpy, rumpled bed. "I'll take it out of your hide until you give me back my money!"

"No!" Lilu grabbed at passing furniture, but could not wriggle free of his painful hold. "He'll kill you! He's my friend!"

Blade's brows rose a fraction at this assertion, but Lilu's threats did not seem to worry the man, who snarled, "That little runt won't lift a finger to help you, trollop!"

Lilu grabbed a candle-holder and beat the man about the head with it. He yanked it from her grasp and flung it across the room, narrowly missing the assassin. Lilu's beating further enraged the man, who pinned her to the bed and slapped her. She clawed at his eyes, making him roar with pain, then kicked him in the shins. He grabbed her throat and throttled her.

"Blade!" she squeaked, "He's killing me!"