Lord Protector (8 page)

Blade headed for the darkest corner and slid onto a vacant chair, ignoring the glares of the table's occupants. He put a handful of silvers on the table to make his intentions clear, and the men beamed and shouted for a serving wench. While they toasted his generosity and drank the round of ales his silvers purchased, Blade waited for the Cotti to relax. To an onlooker, Blade would appear to be an old friend of the men at the table, who had accepted and welcomed him, which should be sufficient to allay the Cotti's suspicions.

Clearly the inn's patrons knew Storm was an assassin. The fact that he sat alone in a crowded taproom proved it. Assassins were not obliged to make their trade known, but often did to repel unwanted companions and advertise to prospective customers. When Blade glanced at him again, some time later, he appeared relaxed, gazing across the room at a buxom serving wench. Blade's female disguise would have been effective to lure the Cotti upstairs, but he hated it, and wanted the Cotti assassin to know who was responsible for his death.

Blade listened to the bawdy talk of the men at his table and raised his tankard to clank it against theirs when the urge took them. He surreptitiously tipped much of his ale into his neighbours' tankards, appearing to drink as much as they did and buying fresh rounds whenever their flagons ran dry. His companions grew drunk and rowdy, singing lewd ditties.

Soon Blade's table became popular as more patrons joined it, availing themselves of the generosity of the hooded stranger in their midst. No one enquired as to his identity, and although they clapped him on the back from time to time by way of thanks, they did not otherwise bother him. Blade bided his time, listening with half an ear to the drunken ramblings of the man next to him.

While he waited, he considered all the factors that made assassins so hard to kill. They rarely drank too much in public, a mistake Blade had made in the past, but of which Storm was not guilty now. They were solitary and alert, not distracted by drinking companions, although occasionally by whores, and they always sat with their backs to a wall, something Blade was unable to do at the moment. He waited with the limitless patience of a master assassin, aware that an opportunity might not present itself that night.

An argument at a nearby table grew loud, and one of the men jumped up and flung back his chair. Blade tensed, sensing the start of a brawl, which would change the situation quickly. Another man tried to make peace with the drunken pugilist, but the angry patron punched him, and others leapt into the fray. As happened all too frequently in taprooms, within moments the convivial atmosphere degenerated into a mass of heaving, punching brawlers.

The men at Blade's table, no less eager to join the fray, jumped up and rushed into the growing melee. Blade slid off his chair and sidled away from the worst of the fracas, glancing in Storm's direction. The Cotti assassin had jumped up too, but not to join in. He looked around for an escape route, and there were only two, the front door or the stairs that led to the rooms above. The situation was similar to the one in which Storm had surprised Blade, and now he hoped to reverse their roles.

Storm headed towards the inn's front door, staying close to the wall and ducking the missiles that had started to fly. Blade retreated into the deep shadows in the corner, becoming invisible in his black clothes. There, he shucked the long coat that would hamper him and provide purchase for his opponent, should it become a fight. Storm, concerned only about the fighters, watched them as he sidled along the wall, jumping aside to avoid staggering men and fending off the odd punch.

As the Cotti assassin drew near to his hiding place, Blade slid two daggers from his belt and closed the gap between them with swift strides. His hands flashed towards Storm's throat, but he threw himself aside, warned by the same built-in alarms Blade possessed. Storm whipped around, curved knives appearing in his hands, and dropped into a fighting crouch.

Blade flicked a dagger with a short, sharp motion. Storm jerked aside, and it struck him in the shoulder instead of the throat. Blade threw the other one, but again Storm moved too fast, and it opened a gash above his eye. Blade bent and yanked the daggers from his boots, then flung himself sideways as Storm leapt at him, his boot skimming past Blade's cheek. Blade skipped back and retaliated with a kick that hit Storm on the chin and sent him staggering away.

The Cotti crashed into a table, sending it skidding across the floor with a screech. He whipped around as Blade closed with him again, blood pouring down his face and chest. Blade leapt, lashing out with a stiffened leg, and his boot-tip narrowly missed Storm's chin as the Cotti jerked back. He threw himself aside, sent a chair grating across the floor and forced Blade to swing around to face him.

The brawl still raged in the middle of the room, but many of the men close to the assassins had noticed the strange fight and stopped to gawp, some still clutching their former opponents. Storm swept up a tankard and hurled it at Blade, who ducked, allowing it to sail over him and smash against the head of a man behind him, who dropped with a grunt. The Cotti made no move to attack, and Blade guessed that he had too much respect for his enemy.

The knowledge that Blade had defeated Ice in a duel and two Contara assassins at once, to say nothing of his own defeat at the Match, undoubtedly weighed heavily on Storm's mind. The fact that Blade had already injured him twice added to his caution, which, in this case, was his enemy. Blade had no such qualms. Although he preferred to use defensive tactics, he advanced again with light, dancing steps, alert for the slightest hint of movement from his opponent.

Storm retreated, then swung and grabbed a gawping patron, stepped behind him and held a curved dagger to the man's throat.

"Come any closer, and he dies."

Blade stopped and straightened, letting his arms fall to his sides. "Afraid to fight me?"

"Only a fool would not be afraid of you, and I'm not one."

"You were a fool when you accepted this mission, and an even bigger one not to kill me when you had the chance."

"I'm still going to kill you, but not like this."

"Because you know you'll lose."

Storm inclined his head. "Perhaps taking this job was a mistake, I'll grant you that, but I'm not going to fight you."

"And you think that this will stop me?" Blade gestured at the terrified man. "You think I won't kill him to get to you?"

Blade became aware that the brawl had stopped, and the men stared at the assassins. Storm jerked his head at the spectators. "That might be ill advised. He's a friend of theirs."

"And you're the one with a knife at his throat."

"Walk away, and he lives."

"And give you another chance to try to kill me in some dark corner?"

Storm shrugged, wincing. "That's my job. You shouldn't have made so many enemies."

"Well, now that I have a client it's my job to kill you." Blade smiled. "And they paid me just one silver coin. That's all you're worth."

"I didn't think your skills could be bought so cheaply."

"Usually I'm a little more expensive, but you, I would have killed for free."

Storm backed towards the door, dragging his human shield. Blade followed, keeping the same distance between them. The Cotti paused by the door and considered his next move, then turned his head, his eyes fixed on Blade.

"Open the door," Storm ordered the men who stood next to it.

The men hesitated, glancing at Blade, who bent to pick up his fallen dagger and sheath it in his belt.

Storm watched Blade, aware that he was vastly more experienced, and his legendary reputation was enough to strike fear into the most courageous man. Although Storm was twenty years younger, he doubted his ability to defeat Blade, and already knew he was not as fast. Such feelings of inadequacy had never plagued him before. He had always considered himself to be the best. He met Blade's eyes and shivered at the icy emptiness of their pale grey depths, which held no hint of emotion. This brought the unsettling realisation that the man he had not wanted to kill in Jondar was an assassin of the highest calibre, devoid of the pity Storm had sometimes experienced.

When the men behind him did not obey his order, he shouted it again, making them jump.

"Where are you going to go, Storm?" Blade asked. "Do you think you can outrun my dagger once you cast aside your shield? Or do you plan to take him with you?"

"You're staying here, and these men will ensure that you do if they want their friend to live."

Blade raked the crowd with a contemptuous glance. "They won't try to stop me. They know I'll kill them if they do, just as I'll kill the man you hold unless you let him go."

The man in question struggled, and Storm, his arm weakened by the injury to his shoulder, could not hold him. The villager slipped from his grasp with only a shallow cut on his throat and burrowed into the crowd. Storm gritted his teeth as his shoulder throbbed, sending shafts of pain down his arm. Exposed once more, he waited for Blade to make his next move as he tried to think of a way out of the situation.

The Jashimari assassin appeared relaxed. He had not even bothered to raise his weapons again, but watched Storm. Sensing a movement behind him, Storm whipped around as a patron made a foolish attempt to grab him. He slashed the man's face, opening a gash down his cheek that made him recoil with a yell. Using the distraction, Storm rushed at the crowd, which dived from his path. Bending double, he raced for the door, yanked it open and hurled himself into the slushy street.

Storm rolled, grunting as the impact twisted the dagger in his shoulder, then leapt up and spun to face the inn. Blade was already out of the door, a hand drawn back to throw another dagger, and Storm threw himself sideways as it flew at him. It missed him by a hair's breadth and clunked into the muddy ground, lost in the slush. Storm rolled to his feet, yanked the dagger from his shoulder and hurled it at Blade, who ducked.

Realising that his only hope of defeating the Jashimari assassin was to get close to him, Storm charged Blade. Assassins normally avoided close contact, since it quickly resulted in serious, often fatal wounds to one or both combatants. As he hoped, it took Blade by surprise, and he slipped on the ice as he tried to leap aside. One of Storm's knives sliced into Blade's biceps as he flung up his arm, the other was deflected by Blade's weapon as the Jashimari assassin parried the blow with his other hand.

The impact sent Blade sprawling, and Storm flung himself after the Jashimari assassin, trying to pin him down. Blade rolled aside, but Storm twisted and grabbed Blade's wrist as he tried to leap up. Blade whipped around and stabbed at Storm's chest, but Storm's up flung arm deflected the blow, and Blade sought to jerk free of the Cotti's hold. Storm hung on, knowing that he had the advantage of weight and strength.

The viciousness with which Blade stabbed him made Storm regret his decision, however. The Jashimari assassin inflicted several shallow wounds in Storm's right forearm, which he was forced to use to defend his throat and chest. Since he had dropped one of his weapons in order to grab Blade, he had only one knife with which to try to kill the Jashimari, but he was too busy defending himself. He jerked up a knee, landing a glancing blow on Blade's hip, then rolled partly on top of his opponent, holding Blade's left wrist pinned to the ground. He grunted as Blade's dagger sank into his side, twisting his torso to prevent the weapon from penetrating too deep.

As Blade yanked the weapon out, Storm dropped his remaining knife and punched him, jerking his head sideways. For an instant Blade's eyes lost focus, then he stabbed Storm in the hip before the Cotti could avoid it, making him recoil. Taking advantage of the momentary shifting of Storm's weight, Blade twisted free and jerked loose of Storm's hold. He rolled away as Storm lunged after him, catching hold of Blade's ankle. He kicked Storm in the face, sending him skidding away.

They leapt to their feet, and Blade kicked Storm in the ribs as he bent to scoop up his knife. Storm staggered away, agony shooting through him from his side, face, hip and shoulder. Blade followed, but this time Storm stood his ground, drawing another curved knife. Blade feinted right, then stabbed left as Storm leapt aside, inflicting another shallow wound in his forearm. Storm lashed out at the same instant, slashing the back of Blade's wrist before he could jerk it back, then spun and leapt, his boot clipping Blade's ear as the Jashimari assassin twisted away.

Blade used his momentum to spin closer to Storm and lunged in low, his dagger aimed at Storm's legs. The Cotti stumbled back with another wound in his thigh, Blade already out of reach once more. Storm feinted, then lunged, scoring a cut across the Jashimari's flank as Blade spun away, his dagger slicing into Storm's belly. They danced around each other, wounds appearing at every contact. The injuries were not serious, and neither could risk getting close enough to inflict a deep wound for fear of receiving one himself, but the cuts weakened them.

Storm sprinted for the side of the inn, where a dark alley beckoned beyond the light of the torches outside the door. He reached the shadows' safety as a dagger whizzed past his head and clattered into the darkness beyond. Soft, quick footsteps behind him told him that Blade followed, intent on pressing home his advantage while Storm's wounds weakened him. Tripping over a pile of firewood stacked against the inn's wall, Storm sheathed his knives and scooped up a faggot.

Knowing Blade would be listening to his footsteps, he turned without changing their tempo and moved back towards the front of the inn. In the darkness, he had only the sound of the Jashimari assassin's footsteps with which to locate him, but was as invisible as his opponent. Blade's footfalls stopped as he sensed Storm's approach, and Storm closed the remaining gap swiftly, then swung the faggot at the place where he judged Blade to be.

It swished through empty air, and he stepped forward and swung it again. A movement made him leap aside, then pain exploded in the side of his neck as a dagger sank into it. Whipping around, he flailed with the faggot, but the Jashimari assassin was too elusive for such brutish tactics. With his hope that Blade would not follow him into the darkness squashed, Storm ran back into the light of the inn's torches, where he could see his opponent.