Lord Protector (35 page)

He shrugged. "It must have been about a tenday ago now."

"And you have given it no rest since then. No wonder it hasn't healed." She recalled his limp. "What have you done to your leg?"

"I broke my ankle too."

"Blade! How did you do that?"

"I fell off a cliff."

"You are such a fool!"

He scowled at her. "I didn't do it on purpose. It was climb the cliff or drown in a river."

"Then you were right to climb it." Lilu finished binding his chest and bent to examine his ankle, ignoring his grunts and hisses as she removed his boot and probed the swollen joint, discovering suppurating puncture wounds in it and his calf.

"You've made this worse by using it while it's broken."

"I didn't have much choice."

"I thought you didn't like pain."

"I don't."

Lilu re-bandaged his ankle and looked up him. "I'll send for the healer to set this properly and give you a draught for the fever. The bites are infected. Then you'll stay in bed for at least a tenday."

"Nag, nag, nag." He sipped his wine.

"Why didn't you find a healer on the way here, or go straight to the palace?"

"A healer treated me eight days ago, and this is a lot closer to Contara than the palace."

"I suppose so."

Lilu stood up and studied him again. He looked thinner, and exhausted. She would soon fix that. The urge to mother him grew stronger every time she saw him, which was far too rarely. Now that he was injured again, it was overwhelming. Especially after she had half believed he was dead for three years. She shouted for Arjath and sent the young man running to the village to fetch the healer, then turned to Blade again. She blinked, her eyes stinging. He always looked so sad. She had noticed it when he had first woken in her bed, all those years ago. Many mistook his frequent frowns and caustic tongue for ill temper, and indeed, his mood was often surly, but she knew that a deep sadness caused his moodiness. Her scrutiny sharpened, for something about him had changed. The air of lonely desolation had lessened to almost nonexistence, despite his sour expression.

"What else has happened to you?" she asked.

Blade indicated that she should have some wine, and she poured herself a cup, still studying him. A smudge of flour powdered his cheek, and she leant closer to brush it off, resisting the urge to pounce on him and hug him half to death. There was a time when he would have flinched from her touch, but now he merely gazed at her, and it seemed that his eyes had thawed a little.

"You've lost weight," he commented.

She grinned, surprised and pleased that he had noticed. "I was getting too fat."

"I agree." He sipped his wine.

"How long will you stay?"

He shrugged. "Until I decide to leave."

"You look half-starved again. Don't you ever eat?"

"Occasionally."

Lilu's eyes roamed over his face, trying to discern what it was about him that had changed, but unable to pin it down. Time still seemed to have barely touched him, despite the toll of exhaustion and deprivation. She noticed that the mark of his retirement was still covered, and wondered why he chose to remain an active assassin.

"What have you been doing for the past three years?" she enquired. "Everyone thinks you're dead."

"I killed a few people."

"Anyone special?"

"Another Cotti prince."

"Haven't you run out of Cotti princes yet?"

He shook his head and sipped his wine. "I'm more than halfway through the brood, though." He looked away, his eyes bleak. "They almost killed me this time. I've spent the past three years in a Contara prison."

Lilu gaped at him. "You escaped?"

He nodded. "By a stroke of good fortune, or else I would have died there."

"What happened? How did you escape?"

Blade polished off the bottle of wine while he recounted an amazing tale in clipped sentences, leaving out a lot, she sensed. Even so, what he had suffered shocked her, considering how much he had already endured. It seemed unfair that one man should have to go through so many trials and tribulations, especially painful ones. He was not strong, she knew, and his constant flirtation with death seemed likely to doom him in the end. She could still hardly believe he was here, alive. The part of her that had refused to accept his death swelled with vindication, while the rest of her wallowed in the joy of his incredible return.

She rubbed her eyes. "Something has happened to you, hasn't it? Something good."

Blade inclined his head, and his eyes focussed on something behind her. She turned to find a wood cat seated in the doorway, surveying the room with a superior air. From its confident demeanour and the intelligent glint in its eyes, she knew it was a familiar. Had Blade brought someone with him? If so, where was he? She glanced at the assassin.

"Who's this?"

"This is Rivan." He paused, and a slight smile curved his lips. "My familiar."

Lilu's mouth fell open, and she stared at him in disbelief, then glanced at the wood cat again. Rivan yawned and stretched out next to the wall, starting a bath.

"But... wasn't your familiar killed when you were a child?"

"Yes."

"Then how...?"

"He was reborn four years ago." Blade sipped his wine, watching her. "He kept me alive in that accursed place."

"How is that possible? I didn't think..." She shook her head. "It was Shamsara, wasn't it? You did something for him."

The assassin nodded, and she turned to gaze at the wood cat again, amazed and joyful. Blade's terse replies did not satisfy her curiosity, but it did not matter. She faced him again, and the yearning to hold him overwhelmed her. He leapt up and retreated, wagging a finger at her.

"No. Lilu..."

Lilu followed him until he backed into the wall, whereupon she hugged him again, mindful of his injuries. He groaned and cursed, jerking away when she kissed his cheek, but she ignored his reluctance and held him for as long as she dared. When she released him, he brushed the flour from his jacket once more, frowning.

She wiped her eyes. "I'm so glad. You deserve such a wonderful reward. To be so blessed by Shamsara is truly a miracle."

Blade returned to his chair and picked up his wine cup. Lilu resumed her seat, her eyes straying often to the black cat. Shamsara's gift was a miracle, and she marvelled at it. She wished the healer would hurry, but he was an old man, and, even with Arjath to speed his steps, it would take some time for him to reach the castle. Fortunately he was quite skilled, for she was extremely concerned about Blade. He tried to hide his weakness, but his pallor and sweating told her that he was gravely ill.

Blade gazed at the plaque, remembering the boy who lay in the cold soil beneath it. Jayon, who had given his life trying to protect Blade from the Cotti prince who had almost killed him. He sank to one knee and laid his hand on the stone, trying to summon some grief into his heart. Rivan wandered over and rubbed against Blade's thigh, then flopped down on the gravestone. The assassin stroked the cat, his heart warming, as it always did in Rivan's presence. Could he only feel anything when Rivan was close by? He studied the gravestone, noticing the tiny carving of a dragon beneath Jayon's name.

A pang of sorrow shot through him, and he bowed his head. He had not known that Jayon was dragon kin. The realisation brought a rush of regret for the youth's sacrifice, and he allowed the feeling to burgeon, welcoming it. He wanted to feel again. He had been frozen inside for far too long. The ice still chilled him when he allowed it to, and it was a constant battle to prevent it from consuming him again. Rivan held it at bay, but the bond between them remained weak, due to their separation, and because he was unable to show the cat much affection.

Blade read the tombstone again, translating the second name upon it. Ranelyrin. Lightsong, or Lightsinger, the title of a kin of the dragon, highest of the beast kin. Why had Jayon tried to save a lowly assassin, a mere kin of the cat? He must have known that, as dragon kin, his life was sacrosanct. The Cotti would have spared him if he had only cried that word. Lightsinger. Instead he had died, and with him, his radiant dragon.

A vase of shay flowers stood beside the grave, and he wondered who mourned the young officer. Probably Lilu. She had liked Jayon. She was also, in all likelihood, the one who had seen to Jayon's burial, and placed the gravestone here. It should have been him. He wondered how they had buried Jayon's body, after his dragon had joined him in death.

A soft pop made him look up. A scintillating light appeared above him, and he sat back with a start. A radiant dragon hovered over the grave, waves of glorious colour running through its skin, its wings a blur of movement. Rivan rose and sat beside Blade, watching the dragon with wide eyes. The radiant drifted down and alighted on the stone, its wings becoming transparent as they ceased to beat. Its white claws ticked on the rock, and its sinuous neck arched as it gazed down at it. Blade stared at it, wondering if it could read the words there. How intelligent were radiants, and why did this one visit Jayon's grave? Perhaps it was his familiar's mate.

The radiant raised its head and trilled, its glowing skin shimmering. It radiated waves of intense cold, yet the sight of it filled him with a strange warmth. It was no larger than a dove, its tail as long as its neck, its cold fire obscuring the details of its patterns. Blade stretched out his hand, longing to touch the tiny, beautiful creature. It trilled again, turning its head to gaze past him, and he turned slowly, not wanting to alarm it.

Lilu walked towards him, carrying a spray of shay flowers. She smiled when she arrived at his side, knelt and plucked the flowers from the vase, replacing them with the ones she had brought. Blade wondered why she did not remark upon the dragon's presence. Could only he see it? He glanced at the beast again, and it looked at him and chirped.

"She likes you," Lilu said. "You're privileged indeed. Symbell has never appeared to a stranger before."

"Symbell?"

She nodded at the dragon. "My familiar."

"You're dragon kin?"

Lilu giggled. "Of course, silly. Have you never wondered what my beast kin was?"

"I never gave it any thought."

"You wouldn't."

"Would you have told me, if I had asked?"

She nodded. "Only you."

"You knew about Jayon."

"Dragon kin always know their own kind, but others can't see it."

Blade turned to gaze at the radiant dragon again, and stretched out his hand once more. "She's beautiful."

"Oh, I wouldn't do that if I was you. She bites."

He snatched his hand away as the little dragon snapped at his fingers. "Can she hurt me? She's so small."

"She has sharp teeth."

He sat back, shaking his head. "I would never have thought..."

"That an ugly whore would be dragon kin?"

"Yes."

Lilu giggled again and stroked Symbell, who craned her neck, and looked as if she was going to bite her friend's hand. Ignoring the latent threat, Lilu picked up the dragon and held her to her breast. To Blade's astonishment, the radiant purred and nuzzled Lilu's neck, her glowing skin turning mostly pink.

"Isn't she cold?"

"No. When I hold her, she's warm."

"You buried Jayon."

Lilu nodded. "Only a dragon kin can touch one who is dead, once the ashes of his familiar have joined his flesh. Jayon's dragon would have sung his deathsong when he died. Did you hear it?"

He shook his head. "I was outside."

"They say it's the most wonderful song a radiant ever sings."

"I thought this one was Jayon's familiar's mate, come to mourn him."

"No. She mourns him because he was dragon kin, as I do. Lyron's mate remains in the Othertime."

The radiant snuggled up to Lilu, shimmering waves of pink and gold flowing over her skin. Gold edged her wings and legs, and vibrant blue rimmed her nostrils and eyes. She hummed, her claws gripping the coarse material of Lilu's faded dress. Raising her head, she twisted her neck to look at Blade, then spread her wings and wriggled from Lilu's clasp. He started as she hopped onto his knee, her claws pricking him through his leather trousers.

Symbell stared at him with disconcerting intensity, then sang a sweet, piercing song. Unable to resist the urge, he brushed his fingers against her skin, and an icy jolt shot through him. The radiant fell silent and gazed at him for several seconds before spreading her wings. They became a blur, and she drifted into the air. The scintillating light intensified, obscuring her form, then, with a soft pop, she vanished.

Blade stared at the shimmer that hung in the air until it faded. Lilu sighed, and smiled when he looked at her.

"We're having rabbit stew for supper."

Rising to her feet, she headed for the keep, and after a moment of stunned inaction, he jumped up and limped after her.

"Wait!"

She stopped and turned. "This doesn't change anything."

"But -"

"No."

"All right." He glanced back at the grave. "But what was that all about?"

"You mean her song?"

"Yes."

She shrugged. "She was just being friendly."

"How intelligent is she?"

"Cleverer than you."

Blade tilted his head, studying her. "How often do you see her?"

"Almost every day. Strange that she let you see her, though. She says you're a bit mad."

"I am not."

"Only a little." She slipped her arm through his and clung to him. "But I love you anyway."

He snorted. "Then you're the mad one."

"Ah, Blade, you're such a blind fool. I know you love me too, no matter how much you deny it."

"You're completely insane."

Lilu placed a hand on his chest. "Your heart is thawing. You had best get used to it."

Three tendays later, Lilu came into the sitting room where Blade read a book, armed with a crumpled piece of parchment. He looked up when she stopped before him, and she brandished the letter.

"You haven't told your wife you're not dead."