Master of the Dance (29 page)

Kerrion glanced at his wife and sighed. "I had hoped we could put that behind us."

"Oh, I intend to. Several hundred leagues."

"I allowed Minna to help you."

Blade snorted. "Do you think you could have stopped her?"

"I reduced the number of guards in the courtyard."

"A vast contribution. I am overwhelmed."

Kerrion jumped up and strode over to confront the assassin, who swung to face him with a frown.

"Enough of this, Blade. I tire of your endless bitterness. If you want to punish me for who and what I am, or for what I did or did not do, then do it. Here I am."

"Are you inviting me to slit your throat?"

"If that is your wish."

"Do not tempt me," Blade growled. "Your marriage protects you, or else I would."

"Then forget your bitterness and be my ally, if not my friend."

"I shall never be either, and forgetfulness is not one of my traits."

Kerrion shook his head. "How can I change your mind? What can I do to -?"

"Nothing." The assassin glared at him, putting aside his wine cup. "Seeking my forgiveness is a pointless exercise. I have none. You are my enemy, and will always remain so, no matter what you say or do."

"I see." The King turned away. "That is sad, and I regret it. I like you. It has taken me a long time to admit that, even to myself, although Minna knew it. I shall always count you as a friend, even if I am not yours, and if you ever need my friendship, it is yours."

"It did me no good when I was going to get a stake up my -"

"That was beyond my power!" He swung back to face the assassin. "I regret that. I stopped those bastards from stoning you, at least."

"Enough." Minna stood up as the argument grew heated, which it inevitably seemed to, between them. Walking over to them, she frowned at Blade. "You are beyond stubborn, My Lord. You put donkey kin and their familiars to shame. I saw how it ate at Kerrion that he could not aid you, even though I was angry with him too. We did not come here to argue with you, only to enjoy a cup of wine together one last time, and wish you farewell."

The assassin's gaze flicked past her to Kerrion. "Then you should not have brought him."

The King threw up his hands. "I shall leave. Anything to keep the peace and make you happy. I wish you a safe journey and a good life in your homeland, Lord Conash."

"I doubt that your brother has left happy memories with my wife."

Minna's brows rose. "That is hardly Kerrion's fault."

The King stepped closer to the assassin. "If you go to Contara and kill the bastard, you have my blessing. I too, abhor what he did to Chiana."

Blade studied the King. "You are a far better man than your father, or your brothers. I will never like you, as you profess to do me, but I will say this much. Of all Cotti, you, I hate the least."

Kerrion smiled. "That is a great admission, from you. I wish you a long and happy life, Blade."

The King held out his hand, and the assassin's eyes flicked to it, then back to Kerrion's face. He stood motionless while Minna held her breath and Kerrion waited, his hand outstretched. A slight, cynical smile curled Blade's lips as he took the King's hand in a brief clasp. Kerrion's smile widened, then he turned and walked out.

Minna smiled up at the assassin before she took his arm to lead him onto the balcony, his boot-blades clicking on the marble floor.

"I too, have something to tell you, My Lord."

"Indeed?"

"Yes. You remember your request for a reward that came from my heart?"

"Of course." He gazed out across the city, his expression distant.

"You were right to request it, and mine was the oversight. It is not something that I, as a queen, have ever had to express in the past."

"Or feel?"

"Indeed, I have taken too much for granted." She stepped in front of him, forcing him to look at her, although he did not meet her eyes. Reaching up, she touched his cheek, making him meet her gaze in surprise. "For saving my life, and all the hardships you have endured on my behalf. For everything you have done for me. Thank you, Blade."

The assassin gazed into her eyes, and she held his chilling glance with an effort. His face remained deadpan, denying her the satisfaction of glimpsing any vestige of his thoughts or emotions. She stepped closer and kissed him on the cheek. He smiled when she stepped back.

"I am honoured, My Queen."

She smiled. "I have longed to do that for years, but protocol constrained me. This was my last chance."

"A good thing Kerrion is no longer trying to hide in the shadows."

"How did you know he was there?"

"I sensed his presence, and smelt him, or I might have been alarmed by someone sneaking about the room, and my dagger would not have been aimed at the picture frame."

She leant on the railing. "Your abilities never cease to amaze me. Having you here was a great comfort to me."

"Few would feel that way about me."

"You would be surprised. Those who count you as a friend find your presence pleasurable, despite your chilly looks and taciturn ways. If you ever made the effort to be cheerful, you could make someone very happy."

"Chiana, you mean."

"Do you truly feel nothing for her?"

He turned and gazed out at the city again. "I have told you, I am incapable of such emotions."

She sighed. "And I know you to be a liar."

"It grows late, My Queen."

"She will have great need of you when you return to Jashimari. Promise me that you will visit her upon your arrival."

A slight frown puckered his brow. "I had planned to seek out Shamsara."

"A few days will make no difference. Promise me, Blade."

"Very well. A few days only."

"Good." She smiled. "You know of the arrangements with Kerrion's man, to guide you across the desert?" At his nod, she went on, "Then I wish you a pleasant and safe journey, and a happy life."

She turned away as he bowed. "My Queen."

"Farewell, My Lord Conash."

Prince Endor glared at the unconscious assassin who hung in the chains against the wall of the well-equipped torture chamber. He had learnt nothing from the man, not even his name, and although information was not the reason for his suffering, answers to the questions put to him would have been satisfying. The man had not uttered a word in all the time he had been the Prince's captive. He had not begged for mercy even once, nor shown any anger at his treatment. His silence annoyed Endor, who longed for the pleasure of listening to the assassin plead for mercy.

As it was, he was beginning to wonder if the man was a mute, for he had not even groaned during his torture. Now he was close to death, covered with cuts and bruises, many of his fingers and toes crushed. The guards had spotted a snow cat slinking around the castle on several occasions, but somehow, the assassin had prevented his familiar from trying to rescue him and being killed in the process.

Endor glanced at the torturer. "Throw him in his cell, and let him recover for a few days, then you can play with him some more. Eventually he will do something interesting, or die."

The torturer bowed. "Yes, My Prince."

Endor left the dungeon and marched through the palace to the sun room where he kept the Regent's familiar. He was tired of playing games, and the assassin's torture brought him little pleasure. Two moon-phases had passed since the Jashimari's capture, and still there was no sign of the Queen's Blade. His spies in Jadaya were unable to send him any information, for there had been no more assassinations, and they did not know whether Blade was still there, or had left.

Kerrion's new laws had been passed, even though Endor had voted against them by proxy; he was now a lone dissenter, outvoted by his brothers. He assumed that once the laws were ratified Blade would return to Jashimari, but as yet he had received no word that he had. The lack of information angered him, and with the other assassin providing no entertainment, it was time to set some new events in motion. He went over to the cage and opened the door, reaching in to grasp the fluttering dove. She struggled as he drew her from the cage, her little heart hammering and her liquid eyes bright with terror.

Smiling, he held her up and studied her. "So, my little pretty, time to send Chiana a message, I think. Time for her to be punished for sending two second-rate assassins to kill me, and for Jashimari to suffer a little anarchy." He chuckled. "This will make her send the Queen's Blade here, and his death will avenge my brothers' murders."

Endor tightened his grip on the dove, and her struggles became frantic as he squeezed the life from her.

Chiana gazed out of her sitting room window at the sunlit, autumnal gardens. The last of the summer flowers fell from the trees in a gentle rain, drifting down to carpet the lawn with patterns of pink, white and purple. The gardeners raked them up each day, but the next day more fell, like bright tears, mourning summer's passing and the approach of the cold, bleak winter days. Then the trees would stand stark and bare against the chill grey sky that reminded her of her husband's eyes. She missed him, as she always did, but now Inka's absence added to her misery. Each night, she wept for her familiar's suffering and prayed for her rescue, but each day that hope faded.

Lance had been gone for three moons now, which meant that he had been in Contara for more than two, and still she had no news from him or of him. Her spies in Contara had reported his arrival, but nothing since then. He had vanished, and Endor still lived, although the spies had informed her of the Prince's injury in a taproom brawl. Lance should have made his attempt by now, for she had stressed the urgency of freeing Inka. It seemed certain that he had failed, and had either been captured or killed. Her helplessness ate at her, making each day a trial of waiting and dreading Endor's ultimate revenge, which she was certain would soon come. In fact, it surprised her that he had waited so long.

Good news from Jadaya had cheered her. Kerra was safe and well, Kerrion's new laws were in force, and his wife would soon be crowned. All of this thanks to the presence there of the Queen's Blade, she reminded herself. Best of all, Blade was on his way back to Jashimari, and she prayed that he would return to Jondar. She wondered if he would seek Endor's death himself when he learnt of Lance's failure. That prospect cheered and terrified her, for if he succeeded, Inka would be freed, but if he failed she may lose them both.

The fact that he had never failed comforted her, but his apprentice's failure gave her reason to doubt that even he would succeed. He was no longer a young man, and, even with Shamsara's rejuvenating blood in his veins, he was well past the age when assassins retired. Chiana could not shake the sense of impending doom that plagued her, filling her dreams with horror and death. Many contained images of Blade being killed in a horrific fight in a dark room with blood-splattered walls, in others he hung in a rack, suffering a slow and painful death. The nightmares might have been due, in part, to the black and grey dream silk that hissed upon the palace's temple, but not entirely, she was sure. The Death Moon waxed, and she longed for the day when the dream silk colours were changed.

A knock at the door chased the worries from her mind, and she turned with a smile. She had invited Insash to join her for lunch, and he was prompt, as ever. At her nod, one of her maidens went to open it. Insash entered and bowed.

"Regent."

"Insash. You look well."

He studied her. "I wish I could say the same about you, Chiana, but in truth you look as if you have not slept for a moon."

"I have had a little trouble, but it will pass, as all things do." She gestured to a pile of cushions. "Sit, lunch will be served shortly. Some wine?"

The chief advisor sank down with a smile, nodding his acceptance, and one of her maidens filled a goblet for him. Chiana accepted a cup and walked towards him. Halfway across the room, she stopped, the blood drained from her cheeks and her breath caught. The goblet slipped from her fingers and hit the floor with a shrill peal of gold on marble, spraying red wine like blood. Chiana raised her hands to her breast, her face twisting with agony as her mouth opened in a silent scream.

Insash leapt up and ran to her as she collapsed, and her maidens shrieked in distress, rushing to her side. She hit the floor with a sickening thud, cracking her head on the marble. Insash fell to his knees beside her, his expression a mixture of anguish and dread.

"Summon Verdan!" he shouted. "Hurry!"

Three girls jumped up and sprinted to obey, leaving Insash to gaze down at the stricken Regent, whose complexion almost matched the white stone on which she lay. Her mouth worked, and her eyes clung to his in desperate pleading as she struggled to draw breath. He knew all too well what was happening, and cursed under his breath as he lifted her head into his lap and cradled it there.

"Damn him! Damn him!"

Chiana gripped the front of his tunic and pulled him closer, her mouth working to form silent words. Finally she managed the softest of whispers.

"He is killing... her."

"I know." Insash stroked her cheek. "You will be all right."

"She is... dying."

"Be strong, my dear. It will soon be over."

Tears oozed from her eyes and slid down her alabaster cheeks. "He is... killing her."

"I am so sorry. Be strong."

"Inka." Her face twisted into an expression of intense anguish mixed with agony, then she drew a shallow gasp and screamed, "
Inka
!"

Her shriek of unadulterated anguish brought tears to his eyes, but all he could do was stroke her hair and gaze down at her as she shared the pain of her familiar's death. She clawed at her throat, and, judging by her struggles to breathe, he guessed that Endor was crushing the bird. His concern grew as her lips turned blue and her eyes became glazed, then they rolled back, and she slumped.

The doors crashed open and the old healer trotted in, two maidens and a guard half dragging, half carrying him. Verdan wheezed as they rushed him to the Regent's side and lowered him to his knees, the guard thrusting his bag of mendicants into his hands. He clutched it, gazing down at the regent, then put it aside and bent over her to raise an eyelid with a shaking hand. He bent further and put his ear to her breast, listening for a minute before straightening with a grunt.