The Queen's Blade Prequel II - God Touched (20 page)

“
Not much, I think, although I have not had the chance to ask
any of my victims. It is swift.”

“
May I lie on the bed first?”

Blade shrugged
and gestured with the dagger, letting the second weapon slip into
his hand in case Rothwayer made a last minute attempt to escape or
fight. The lord walked over to the bed and lay down, arranging
himself comfortably, his eyes fixed on Blade. The assassin admired
Rothwayer's calm acceptance of the inevitable and noble bearing. He
seemed to realise that begging for his life would do no good. It
was almost a pity to slay such an honourable man, Blade mused, but
it was his trade.

“
How will you do it?” Rothwayer enquired.

Blade
considered him. “I shall make you sleep first, I think. Then I
shall push a dagger into your heart. How does that sound?”

“
As good a way as any, I suppose.”

“
You accept it very calmly.”

“
Do I have a choice?”

“
No.” Blade inclined his head. “You are a wise man.”

“
I wish I could say goodbye to my wife and
children.”

“
I hardly think that is an option.”

Rothwayer
nodded. “No, I did not think so. It is merely a wish. I love them
very much. They will mourn me.”

“
Again you try to soften my heart. It is not working, I assure
you. No one is safe from me if their death has been
purchased.”

“
I do not want to die. Please, I will pay you anything you
demand, to spare me. I have thousands of goldens, please
-”

Blade leant
down and pressed his fingers to Rothwayer's throat, the daggers
hampering him somewhat. The nobleman sighed and went limp, his eyes
closing. The assassin glanced at the owl, which had raised its
crest in alarm. One shriek from the bird and he would be
discovered. Although Rothwayer was middle-aged, owls were
long-lived, and it may outlive its friend to raise the alarm. Blade
approached it, and it bobbed its head, measuring the distance
between them. He disliked killing familiars, but sometimes it was
necessary.

The bird
raised its wings as he neared it, preparing to take off. Blade
flicked a dagger, which thudded into the owl's breast, impaling its
heart. It hit the floor with another soft thud. The assassin
retrieved his weapon and returned to the bed to gaze down at the
comatose man. Using the dagger with the bird's blood on it, he
ended the portly lord's life and straightened to wipe the weapon on
the bed hangings. It had been a most civilised killing, he
reflected, with no struggle and hardly any blood. An excellent
night's work.

After
sheathing his daggers and checking himself in the wall mirror,
Blade let himself out and retraced his steps through the mansion to
the front door, where the liveried flunky who had let him in waited
to open it. The gate guards barely glanced at him, and he strolled
into the city without a backward glance, filled with pride and a
little euphoria. Talon was right, his female disguise turned
impossible assassinations into easy ones.

The city
criers spread the news of the slain lord the next day, and the
slums were abuzz with consternation and speculation. Suspicion
naturally fell upon Blade, but once more the killing was deemed to
be impossible and the city Watch hunted a harlot.

On his way to
his seat at the back of the Black Swan, a red-haired whore stepped
into Blade's path with a coy smile, fluttering her eyelashes. He
recognised her as a three-copper whore who worked in the back
rooms, and scowled at her. She looked disconcerted, clearly not
expecting his reaction, but rallied with a snaggle-toothed smile,
trying to place a hand on his arm. Blade evaded her and attempted
to move past, but she stepped into his path again.

“
Get out of my way, girl,” he said.

“
Come to my room and 'ave some fun. I can please ye better'n
that ugly Lilu.”

“
How would you know that?”

“
'Cause she's bloody ugly.”

“
And you're not?” Blade's brows rose.

Her smile
faltered again. “Not as bad as 'er!”

“
That's a matter of opinion, isn't it? I think you're
uglier.”

“
She's a two-copper whore. I'm worth three!”

“
I wouldn't pay one copper for you.”

“
I'll not charge ye.” She became coy again.

“
Why the sudden wish to bed me?”

“
I always did, but now yer 'ere an' I'm 'ere, an' it seems like
an apt time.” She twirled a lock of ruddy hair around one
finger.

“
Well it's not. I wouldn't rut with you if you wore three bags
over your head. Let me pass.”

Her expression
became venomous. “Everyone knows she's yer mare, an' soon
someone'll snatch 'er and slit 'er throat just fer laughs, 'cause
she's yer slut right enough. What's she got that's so special? The
lads say she's not even a good poke. No but average, they
reckon.”

“
None of your damned business.”

She stepped
closer. “Soon enough ye'll run, when she pops out that new brat
she's got brewin' in 'er belly. Sure's night's dark it's yer baby,
since yer spend so much time pokin' 'er.”

Blade's frown
deepened. “If you don't get out of my way, girl, I'll make you so
ugly even a boar kin's pet won't want to poke you, understand?”

The whore
pouted and brushed past him as if she was the one who had rejected
him, tossing her flaming hair. Blade entered the taproom and sought
his usual seat in the shadows, noting that only one of his fellow
assassins was in residence. The man he had hired to kill the
murderer was absent. Lilu sat beside a jolly-looking merchant,
prodding and pinching him amid gales of giggles. Although she was
too ugly for most, her clever wit and sense of humour were popular
with many patrons. Blade scowled at her until she sensed his glare
and looked around, her grin fading. She left the merchant and
approached him, her expression wary as she sat opposite.

“
Blade? What's wrong?”

“
Apparently I'm soon to become a father.”

She looked
startled. “You... Oh. Who told you that?”

“
One of your ugly friends.”

“
Which one?”

“
Is it true?”

She looked
away. “It's none of your concern.”

“
No, you're right, it's not. And I don't give a tinker's
fart.”

“
Then why are you so angry?”

“
Oh, I don't know. Maybe because it's one thing for people to
think you're my mare, and another to be blamed for siring your
brats.”

“
Why would you care?”

“
I don't!”

“
You're angry because I didn't tell you.”

He snorted. “I
don't give a damn what you do or don't do.”

“
I was going to, I swear. I just... I knew you'd be
angry.”

“
I'm not!”

She raised her
brows, and Blade leant across the table. “She waylaid me to tell me
this, and invited me to share her bed. That's what angered me.
Apparently she thinks you're a target for those who wish me ill.
Have you been spreading rumours?”

“
No. I haven't. You spend a lot of time in my room, so it's a
natural assumption, and I thought you didn't mind.” She tilted her
head and smiled. “Are you worried about me?”

“
I don't care what happens to you. Why would I
worry?”

“
Perhaps because you do care.”

“
Don't delude yourself.”

Lilu leant
forward. “I know you do, no matter how much you deny it. I
understand why you don't want anyone to know, and I don't mind if
you pretend not to.”

He sat back,
scowling at her. “Live in a dream if it suits you then, but if
others start to think like you, your life will be in danger.
Consider that before you brag about how much I care about you. Any
friend of the Master of the Dance has a target on their backs, and
will one day find a knife in it.”

“
I've never told anyone about our friendship, and being your
mare doesn't mean you care about me, either.”

“
But carrying my child does. You had best put an end to that
rumour, and fast.”

She nodded. “I
will.”

A man
approaching behind Lilu drew Blade's attention, and he said, “Go
away.”

The whore rose
and moved off, and Blade eyed the man who stopped beside his table.
The Watch commander sat down on the bench opposite and signalled to
the serving wench to bring him a mug of ale before turning to
Blade, his expression grim.

“
Foolish of you to send another to do your work, Dance Master,”
he said.

“
How so?”

“
Because my men found the body of an assassin in the slums this
morning, in the area where the murderer slays his victims. They
said he looked like he'd been in a fight, and clearly he
lost.”

Blade sipped
his wine, scowling. “Regrettable.”

“
Indeed. How much did his death cost you?”

“
Not very much.”

“
That's the thing with second-rate assassins; they're cheap,
but not that good. That's why I hired you, at vast expense. I'm
offended.”

Blade
shrugged. “I was busy at the time.”

“
And now you're not?”

“
I'll see to it.”

The serving
wench brought the commander his ale, and he sipped it. “I trust my
men won't find your body tomorrow morning.”

“
I'm no second-rate assassin, Commander.”

“
I should hope not, with the amount you charge.”

Blade leant
back and gazed across the room, and the commander rose and moved to
another table to finish his ale. Clearly the rogue assassin was a
dangerous man, Blade mused. Although that was to be expected, the
fact that he had killed Slayer, who had been hunting him, meant he
was more skilled than most. Unless, of course, the rogue assassin
had ambushed or hunted Slayer instead, but it seemed unlikely that
he would, given that Slayer was his own kind. More likely, Slayer
had attacked the rogue and paid the price.

Chapter Eleven

Two nights
later, Blade made his way to the Twine District along the
assassin's highway. From the rooftops, he had the advantage of
invisibility and a better view, able to watch what went on below
with impunity. The Twine District's shanties clustered along filthy
roads in lines of foetid squalor, and some of the roofs were in a
poor state of repair, making them unstable and oftentimes dangerous
to walk on. Therefore he moved carefully, keeping to edges or
apexes, where beams strengthened them. He passed arguing fishwives
and playing children, moving deep into the slums in search of his
quarry. The two previous nights had been uneventful, and he grew
tired of waiting.

Finding a
fairly comfortable roost in the centre of the Twine District, he
settled down to wait as the waning Tree Moon rose to bathe the
ramshackle huts in silvery light. Most residents were safely locked
inside by this time and the streets all but deserted, apart from a
few drunkards reeling home and an occasional beggar. Blade listened
to the various sounds, near and far, that broke the hush. A dog
yapped and a tomcat yowled, chickens clucked and a barrow-hag
rattled past, muttering. The scent of wood smoke and roasting meat
crept past on the breeze, mingled with stew and urine.

Blade jumped
when a crash of breaking pottery came from inside the house upon
which he sat, and raised, angry voices followed. He cursed and
relaxed, his nerves jangling. It would be a while yet before the
whorehouses closed and any prey would be abroad for the rogue
assassin to kill, and he wanted to snatch some sleep until then.
The argument under him continued until the door banged open and a
man stormed away down the street, his wife's flow of vitriol
following him. Blade closed his eyes as it grew quiet again,
listening to the faint night time sounds.

Blade jerked
from his doze, wondering what had roused him. The moon sailed high
above silent slums, so several time-glasses had passed. A faint
scream came from the south, and he turned, then rose and trotted
across the roof to the next shack, jumping the gap to land with a
crash on its sagging roof. Another scream came from a closer
street, and he changed direction. It could just be drunken men
raping or chasing a harlot, but he had to find out. A third shriek
came, closer still, and he crossed the next two roofs at a run.

As he neared
the last location of the sound, he slowed to a walk, for running on
rooftops caused far too much noise. A panting woman raced past
below, her feet thudding on the cobbles, and a flitting shadow
pursued her. Blade followed on the rooftops, falling behind. He had
to be sure it was not just some drunken assassin bent on rape, and
for that, he had to wait until the man killed her. Something Slayer
had not done, since the Watch had only found his body. Blade
increased his pace as the pair drew ahead, studying the black-clad
man, who looked like an assassin, and his silence seemed to confirm
it.

The woman
screamed again, and Blade broke into a run as he almost lost sight
of her pursuer, cutting across a corner to catch up. Soon the man
would tire of the chase and catch her, but for the moment he was
toying with her, enjoying her terror. Blade slowed to a walk when
the two passed below him again, the woman's gasps telling him that
she was close to exhaustion. Halfway along the street, she fell and
lay panting, raising her hands in a pleading gesture. The man
slowed to a walk and approached her, and Blade moved closer on
silent feet.