Master of the Dance (11 page)

"And if I win?"

"You will not." Ice smiled in a chilling manner, betraying the reason for his name.

"Indulge me."

One of the shadowy men stepped forward. "If you kill Ice, you'll be free to go, since he's the one who was hired to kill you."

Blade inclined his head, then looked at Ice. "Do you intend to make me fight you with my hands and legs bound?"

Ice chuckled and drew a dagger, slicing through the cords that bound Blade. The Jashimari assassin rubbed his wrists and stood up to stretch the stiffness out of his legs, wincing as his bruised ribs twinged. Ice noticed and smiled, beckoning to a huge man, who emerged from the shadows, carrying a wine bottle and two cups.

"Let's drink before we duel. This is my helper on tonight's jaunt, Oben. He's a strong lad, as you can see. He carried you out of the palace grounds, after I dropped you to him from the window."

Blade eyed the big man, whose receding forehead and small eyes, along with his thick neck and bulging arms, marked him as a man of bulls. Turning his attention back to Ice, Blade found that he was almost a head shorter than the Cotti. He glanced around at the silent throng, then measured the chamber, noting that the floor had been swept clean. Ice had planned this encounter, probably from the moment Dravis had hired him. The temptation to pit his skills against a Jashimari assassin with a legendary reputation had clearly been too great for him to resist.

Ice poured two cups of wine and held one out to Blade with a smile. Blade took it and waited for the Cotti assassin to drink some of his before tasting it, finding it a sweet red wine, the sort he preferred. Ice's smile widened at Blade's caution.

"I wouldn't drug you. What would be the point? I may as well have killed you in your room while you were unconscious. I must say, you're a lot smaller than I had imagined."

Blade shrugged. "It makes my job easier."

"Yes, I suppose so, but it must be a disadvantage in a duel."

"I haven't found that."

"Dravis said that you killed King Shandor and seven princes, quite impressive. What's your tally?"

Blade sipped his wine. "I believe it was about two hundred and fifty when I retired, so it would be a few more than that now."

"There must be a lot of work for assassins in Jashimari."

"From that, I assume that yours is considerably less."

"I'm half your age. It's hardly a fair comparison."

Blade drained his cup and tossed it to Oben, who fumbled the catch and dropped it with a shrill clatter. "Do you intend to bore me to death with idle chatter, or shall we get on with this?"

Ice slugged back his wine and held out the empty goblet for Oben, who took it and retreated. "I want the effect of the sleep gas to be completely worn off, to be fair."

"It has."

"Good." Ice turned to the shadowy figures, and one held out a pair of glittering boot blades. The Cotti assassin gave them to Blade, who examined them, finding that they were his, taken from his pack in the palace. The assassins and elders who made up the crowd spread out along the walls, leaving as much clear space as possible in the middle of the room, and Oben came forward to remove the chair. Blade bent and strapped on the lethal footgear, then straightened and stripped off his jacket, under which he wore the tight vest traditionally worn at Dances.

When Ice removed his jacket, he revealed the ornate, gold-studded belt that only a Master of the Dance could wear, as Blade had expected. Naturally Dravis had hired the best assassin in Jadaya, one whose ego matched his prowess. Blade bent and pressed his forehead to his knees to stretch the tendons in the back of his legs, then swung his arms and twisted to limber up. He made an experimental jump to test the weight of his boots with the blades attached, for the extra weight always made it more difficult. Walking around, he stamped his feet and lifted his legs high to get used to it, his metal-shod feet clacking on the stone.

It had been a long time since he had completed the Dance of Death in all its complexity, but his recent exercise at the palace had increased his fitness. Still, he was not certain he could defeat Ice, and even if he did, the duel would be a bloody one. Injuries were inevitable, and quite possibly lethal. The prospect angered him, firing the bitterness that had ruled his life for so long, and his hatred of Cotti flared to new heights. If Ice had the advantage of youth and ambition, Blade had a lifetime of enmity and resentment to fuel his muscles and chill his mind to icy calmness and clarity. The Dance of Death as an armed duel had been forbidden decades ago, because one or both combatants inevitably died of their wounds.

Blade stood with his head bowed, steeling himself to ignore the pain and the frightening sight of so much of his own blood. The fact that he placed little value on his life, and courted death at every opportunity, worked in his favour now. He would fight with reckless abandon, while Ice would be more concerned about staying alive. The things about him that Ice did not know would work against the Cotti assassin, perhaps enough to balance the scales. He wondered if a Jashimari assassin would ever be foolish enough to challenge the Queen's Blade to an armed Dance of Death.

Raising his head, he glared at his opponent. "You've made a big mistake, Cotti. Challenging me to a Dance of Death is signing your own death warrant. I was the Master of the Dance my entire career, and even when I retired, I could have kept the title. I'm the only assassin to have ever held two belts, since an upstart Dance Master from another city challenged me. At the time I was almost crippled, and I still defeated him."

Blade's blood warmed as he spoke, and his heart swelled with the only pride that he had ever known, that of his prowess. Denied the simple pleasures of a normal man, he had excelled in the one thing he was good at, and that pride now bolstered his confidence, just as his words were designed to diminish Ice's.

The Cotti assassin smirked, his eyes darting to the watching assassins. "I'm not afraid of you."

"You're a fool if you think you can defeat the Queen's Blade in a Dance of Death. No one has been stupid enough to try that before." Blade grinned. "I'm going to cut you to pieces."

Ice glanced around again, took two of Blade's daggers from an elder and walked over to hand them to the Jashimari assassin.

"You know the rules, I presume."

"Better than you, Cotti pup."

Blade took the weapons and turned away as Ice collected his own from his elders. The rules were simple. You only had two daggers, and if you threw one and missed, you only had one. A thrown dagger could not be retrieved, so it was better to keep them in hand. The Dance was varied for the different types of assassins, who used their weapon of choice, except for poisoners, who fought empty-handed. Seldom had a duel been fought between two assassins who used different weapons, and then they both had to use daggers, or nothing. That was in the days before the Dance was outlawed. Ice handed his familiar to one of the elders and turned to face Blade again.

"Where's your familiar?"

"Killed by Shandor's soldiers, a crime for which he paid with his life."

"Ah." Ice studied his daggers, fingering their edges. His apparent cheerfulness was a ruse, Blade knew. Beneath his smiling façade beat a heart of pure malevolence, one that enjoyed dealing out death and pain to hapless victims, and he hid his true nature behind a false grin. He embodied everything Blade hated about the Cotti; their arrogance, cruelty and indifference to the suffering of others.

Blade's hands tightened on his daggers, and he tensed, his muscles thrumming with energy seeking explosive outlet. An electrical jolt went through him as Ice tapped his feet in the distinctive rhythm of the Dance of Death, beginning the duel. The rigid structure of the Dance did not apply to an armed duel, but many of the moves would be repeated in it, simply because they were so deadly.

Blade moved towards his opponent, the danger heightening his senses. Ice circled, and, from the wary glint in his eyes, Blade knew his words had dented the Cotti's confidence, as he had intended. He stopped and waited for Ice to attack, since this put the Cotti at a disadvantage. Ice had no choice, however, if he wanted to kill Blade. Ice's feet clicked as he closed the gap in a whirling leap, his blade-tipped boots lashing out towards Blade's chest.

Blade swayed back, allowing the razor edges to skim past his vest, then slashed with a dagger, opening a shallow cut in Ice's arm as the Cotti spun past. Ice landed with a clatter of metal-shod boots, and continued his spin, dropping to slash at Blade's legs, forcing him to spring into the air. Blade kicked as he leapt, his boot grazing Ice's cheek and cutting his ear when he jerked aside. As Blade landed, Ice leapt up and stabbed at him. Blade spun away and kicked his opponent, stabbing Ice in the shin. The Cotti grunted and staggered, then leapt high, one leg lashing out. The boot-blade skimmed past Blade's shoulder as he spun aside, opening a shallow cut.

The assassins' boots clicked without rhythm as they danced the deadly duel, beating out a chilling tattoo of swift death. The moves were too quick for the eye to follow, a blur of flashing boot-blades and slashing daggers in a continuous dance of graceful, lethal motion.

Ice whipped around, lashing out with boot and hand. His dagger ripped open Blade's vest and shed bright blood. Blade twisted aside and leapt, reaching the extraordinary height that made him such an excellent dancer, along with his peerless speed. His rising boot punched into Ice's chest, stabbing upwards into the pad of muscle. Ice grunted and jerked back, then lunged as Blade landed, aiming for his belly. Blade threw himself backwards to avoid the thrust, kicked upwards as he did so and stabbed Ice in the thigh.

The Cotti growled, become frenzied in his pain and fury. Blade rolled away as Ice stabbed at him. The dagger skimmed his ribs and opened another gash. Blade slashed at Ice's neck as he rolled to his feet, but the Cotti flung himself sideways in the nick of time. Blade followed, whipped around and leapt, becoming a spinning dervish tipped with steel. Ice sprang away, but received another cut across his chest, then he lunged in as Blade landed, stabbing at his neck.

Blade threw up an arm, his only option, and the dagger impaled his forearm to the hilt. He grunted and jerked free, blood oozing from the wound and his hand losing its strength. Ice grinned and lunged again, but Blade jumped back and leapt, raising his stiffened legs in the foot-crossing move he had invented, but had never tried in combat. His feet clashed together in a shower of sparks, and his rising boot impaled Ice in the cheek.

The Cotti assassin screamed and jumped back, dropping an instant before Blade's boot-blade would have pierced his gut as Blade landed on one leg and lashed out with the other. As Ice dropped, he stabbed upwards, driving a dagger into Blade's thigh. The Jashimari assassin jerked his leg down, hitting Ice on the side of the head with his heel. Ice fell, then rolled away as Blade went after him, regaining his feet an instant before Blade kicked him again, stabbing him in the calf.

Both fighters dripped blood, their vests soaked with it. Crimson trickles ran down their legs and arms, and Ice's neck. Most of the duels fought before the Dance was banned ended when one fighter died from blood loss, and sometimes the victor succumbed too. No combat was more vicious, fast and bloody than a duel between assassins. There was no respite, no moment of inaction when they could catch their breath. From the moment the duel started, the men were a whirling blur of flashing blades until one died.

Their feet clattered and their gasping breaths rasped in the silent chamber. They gleamed with sweat and blood. As yet neither had slowed one iota, and the speed of the fight made it difficult to follow. Blade's feet blurred as he floated sideways, using the quick, foot-crossing move that looked so graceful in the Dance but had other, more sinister origins. He kicked out as his opponent lunged at him, then spun away when Ice whipped around and tried to stab him in the back. His move brought him closer to the Cotti, and he slashed with both daggers, inflicting wounds in Ice's arm and chest before he sprang away.

Ice followed, leapt high and kicked with a flashing boot-blade, stabbing Blade in the biceps of his injured arm. He spun away, using his momentum to whip around as he leapt. His boot-blade slashed across Ice's arm, severing the muscle. Ice staggered back with a growl, his eyes widening at the sight of the blood pouring from his arm. Blade followed, his mind as cold and clear as frozen crystal, his need to survive blocking the pain of his injuries.

Blade's injured arm sent shafts of agony through him every time he used it, but necessity precluded any favouring of the injured limb, without which he would be greatly hampered. Ice's crippled arm hung at his side, and he swung to face his opponent, his eyes bright with pain and fury. Blood ran down Blade's injured arm and dripped from his fingers. It sprayed each time he lashed out with it, speckling his opponent's face. Their feet rattled across the floor as Ice lunged at Blade, who leapt aside and slashed at his opponent's neck, opening a shallow wound but missing the artery. Blade's feet skidded, and he realised that the floor was now slick with blood.

Ice leapt in and lashed out with a blade-tipped boot that opened another gash across Blade's chest as he jumped back. Blade lunged as Ice landed, stabbing him in the flank when Ice twisted aside to avoid the thrust that was aimed at his heart. Ice stabbed Blade as he did so, impaling him through the muscle on the top of his shoulder when Blade dropped to avoid the blow. Blade kicked him in the shin again, inflicting another wound. Ice jumped back, his razor-tipped boot skimming past Blade's cheek.

The Jashimari assassin jerked away, ignoring the sting of the wound as he slashed with both daggers, one cutting Ice's belly. Ice jumped backwards and slipped in the blood, making the first error of the duel. Blade stabbed him in the flank, missing his belly only because he dropped an instant too soon. Ice rolled to his feet, gasping, and leapt back again as Blade lunged after him, slashing Ice's thigh.