Sacrifice: The Queen's Blade (24 page)

Blade sat on the edge of the plinth, one leg swinging, the other holding him on his perch. The goblet of sacred water hissed beside him, audible when the bell's huge booms faded and Shista's howls died down as she drew breath. He listened to the faint sounds of running feet outside, and tensed as they drew nearer. The guards outside the door cried a challenge, their swords slithering from their scabbards. A confusion of shouts arose, followed by the clash of steel. Blade smiled, glancing down at the Queen's peaceful face.

"I knew they would fight their way in here, they are Cotti."

The battle outside the door raged for several minutes as the Queen's honour guard, the cream of her officers, fought to protect her. None would survive, he knew. They would fight to the death. They were all sacred Knights of the Veil, who considered themselves to be already dead, as most Bereft did. He slid off the plinth and stepped forward as the battle sounds grew less. Blood seeped under the doors, and he averted his eyes.

The doors burst open, and seven Cotti soldiers stepped over the bodies of the fallen, pausing when they saw Blade. Shista roared, a deep guttural sound that rose to a wailing scream. Her claws raked the door behind him with a high shriek of tortured wood. Ten Cotti soldiers lay beyond the main doors, their twisted bodies mixed with the six dead defenders. Blade smiled, well pleased to see so many slain Cotti.

The victors edged closer, their eyes drawn to the Queen. One grinned, and Blade drew a dagger and flicked it. The Cotti clutched his throat and collapsed, thrashing as he tried to pull the weapon free, his mouth open in a silent scream. His comrades hesitated, glancing at him, then at the assassin.

From their uniforms they were cavalry, and their familiars waited outside, which made them far less dangerous than dog soldiers. Blade drew another dagger and threw it, and a second Cotti fell with a cry, clutching his neck. The remaining five shouted and charged, swords raised. Blade drew two daggers and threw them together, felling two more. The last three rushed in, howling with rage, and he yanked out another two daggers as they reached him.

The assassin spun, his steel-tipped arms outstretched. One man fell with his throat slit, blood spouting from his jugular, the other two leapt back. Blade faced them, smiled and beckoned them closer with a dagger. A soldier lunged at him, thrusting with his sword, and Blade spun aside, his steel-shod feet clacking. He stabbed the Cotti under his outstretched arm before he had time to recover, and the soldier jerked back with a yell, collapsing.

Blade leapt over the next man's sword as the Cotti slashed at him and sank his dagger into the soldier's neck. This time he missed the jugular, and the injured Cotti backed away, his sword held before him. The assassin smiled as the soldier retreated to the door. When he reached it, another four Cotti ran up, and together they advanced again, spreading out to encircle the assassin.

Blade grinned, ready to take on anyone who made a move, his senses expanded to a preternatural awareness of everything around him. The soldier behind him rushed in, and Blade whipped around, took two strides and leapt, his blade-tipped boot impaling the man under his chin. The force of Blade's kick sent the Cotti crashing onto his back. Another charged in, and Blade spun, his kick slashing open the soldier's throat. He swayed aside as a sword skimmed past his ribs, but another slashed his arm, making him drop a dagger. He bent and jerked another weapon from his boot, straightening in time to meet a soldier's charge and stab the man as he crashed into him, sending the assassin sprawling.

The wounded Cotti bellowed, slashing at Blade with his sword, but the weapon was too long for such close quarters. Blade stabbed him twice more before he stopped yelling, and the last two flung themselves into the melee. A sword hit the floor beside Blade's head with a clash of steel on stone, and he lashed out with a steel-tipped foot, stabbing the man in the thigh. The soldier fell with a grunt, and Blade twisted to plunge his weapon into the man's throat. As he did so, a sword skittered off the chain mail on his belly and sank into his thigh.

Blade snarled, jerked up his other leg and stabbed his attacker behind the knee. The man's legs buckled, and he sank to his knees beside the assassin. Blade twisted and slashed him across the arm before he could leap out of reach, making the soldier drop his sword and scramble away, clutching the wound. Blade sat up with a grimace, the sword protruding from his thigh. Gritting his teeth, he jerked it out and flung it away, then rose to his feet, his eyes fixed on the wounded soldier. The Cotti retreated to the door, cursing.

Eleven Cotti lay slain on the floor of the bier room, their blood forming crimson pools between their yellow-clad forms. The survivor watched the assassin from a safe distance, unwilling to face him again. Two more Cotti ran up, and the wounded man turned to them.

"Call the King. We've found the Jashimari Queen, and her pet killer, it seems."

Blade stood gasping, his left lung burning. His injured arm throbbed, and he pushed one dagger into his belt, freeing a hand to clamp over the wound. He limped back to the plinth, his torn thigh muscles sending shafts of pain through him, and perched on its edge again. Seeing no immediate danger of attack, he put away the other dagger and relaxed, uncaring of the blood that trickled down his arm and dripped from his leg.

The sight and stench of so much gore sickened him, forcing him to avert his eyes, so he watched his guardian. The Cotti at the door tore a piece of cloth from one of the fallen Jashimari officers and bound his arm, glaring at Blade from time to time. The assassin continued to watch him, settling more comfortably on the edge of the plinth, his injured leg swinging. The golden bell tolled, and Shista wailed in her prison behind the door.

Kerrion loped after the two soldiers who showed him the way, wondering what he would find, for their garbled story was hard to believe. When he arrived at the open doors to the bier room, the sight that greeted him was no less amazing than the soldier's description. Ten of his men lay before the doors, tangled with six Jashimari officers clad in golden armour and white plumes - the Queen's personal guard.

Inside the white room, crimson pools spread from another eleven of his soldiers to lap at the foot of the marble plinth upon which Blade sat, one leg swinging. Kerrion studied the assassin, noting the cut on his arm and wound in his thigh that oozed blood in a steady drip. Blade looked a little thinner, his hair and brows stark against his pale skin. The setting seemed appropriate for the assassin, a chamber of death awash with blood, like the cold purity of snow that the scarlet stains of death's carnage sullied.

Kerrion's gaze skipped past the assassin to the Queen's peaceful visage, and his heart twisted. Stepping over the bodies in the doorway, he advanced on Blade, ignoring the warning of one of his soldiers. When he did not heed the man's admonition, the soldiers moved to flank him, their swords ready. Blade drew a dagger from his belt and hefted it, eyeing the oncoming group.

"Tell them to stay back, or they die."

Kerrion waved the soldiers back, and an officer protested, "Sire, he's dangerous."

"Of course he is dangerous. But he will not harm me. Am I right, Blade?"

The assassin smiled, a gentle expression at odds with the cold hatred in his eyes. "Unfortunately you are."

Kerrion approached the marble plinth, avoiding the blood, his gaze fixed on the supine Queen. "She still breathes." He hastened the last few steps and leant over her, clasping her hand. "She is still alive. I thought..."

"She is dead," Blade stated, not bothering to glance at the King.

Kerrion brushed a lock of hair from Minna-Satu's brow, his eyes roving over her face. His longing for the sight of her had plagued him since he had left Jashimari. "Why did you let her do this?"

Blade snorted. "Let her? I like the way you put it, Kerrion."

The king turned his attention to the assassin, releasing Minna's limp hand. "And you. Why are you still here? I thought you would be long gone, hiding somewhere."

"That is not my way. I do not run and hide like an animal."

"Because you knew I would find you." Kerrion smiled. "I admire your bravery, facing me after all you have done. Or did you just stay to see how many of my men you could kill?"

"A fair number, it would seem."

"I thought you could not fight?"

"Do not believe everything I say."

Kerrion considered the assassin. "I am glad you are here. It saves me the trouble of finding you."

Blade stared at him, and Shista, who had been quiet for a time, chose that moment to vent a mournful wail. Kerrion glanced at the door with a frown.

"Where is the Princess?"

"In the throne room with the new Regent and her handmaidens. That is guarded too. The officers have orders to let no one in but you."

"Is she truly my daughter? Have you seen her?"

"Yes, she has your hair." Blade scowled, looking away. "Perhaps you should make sure your soldiers do not fight their way in and slay her before you even lay eyes on her."

"My men do not kill babies."

"I have seen them do it before."

"They have orders not to kill anyone who does not fight."

Blade slid off the plinth and picked up the cup that stood on its edge. He limped away a few steps, then turned to face Kerrion again. "And will you honour your daughter's inheritance?"

"What choice do I have?" Kerrion glanced at Minna. "She has ensured that her people stay free, though it may cost me dearly."

Blade raised the goblet in a toast. "Well, at least her death has not been in vain. I had my doubts. Cotti kings have never ranked high in my estimate of honourable men. But I am afraid I must deny you the satisfaction of torturing me in revenge."

Kerrion frowned. "What do you mean?"

Blade considered the cup. "This is a good vintage, a gift from the Queen."

Kerrion's eyes narrowed as he stared at the goblet, and the assassin waited for the realisation to dawn that it was the only cup in the room, and not empty. The King lunged at Blade as the assassin raised the goblet to his lips.

"No!"

Blade slugged back the contents in a gulp, then grimaced. "Minna was right, it is vile."

Kerrion halted before him, and his hands flashed out to grip Blade's collar. "Why?"

The assassin dropped the cup and whipped out a dagger, pressing it to Kerrion's jugular. The Cotti soldiers rushed forward with swords raised, but their King turned his head and bellowed, "Get back!" The soldiers hesitated, then retreated. "Stay away, he will not harm me," Kerrion growled, facing Blade again.

The assassin grinned without humour, almost a snarl. "Did you think I would let you torture me, Kerrion? Have your men not done enough already?"

"A couple of cuts. You fought them!"

"I was not talking about that."

Kerrion's eyes slid away, and Blade dug the dagger into his throat, forcing him to meet his gaze. "I have dreamt of this often, you know. Your death would bring me a great deal of satisfaction."

"I was not going to torture you."

"A likely story. I killed your father and your brother, you cannot let me live."

"You were pardoned for my father's murder, and no one can prove that you killed Lerton. You did not use your usual method."

"Who else could have done it?"

Kerrion jerked Blade closer, almost nose-to-nose with him. "Who knows? If you are not going to use that dagger, drop it, it is starting to irritate me."

Blade smiled and lifted the dagger, then turned his head and flicked the weapon towards the doors. A Cotti soldier gasped and crumpled to the floor, the dagger sprouting from his neck. Kerrion shook Blade, almost lifting him off his feet.

"You bastard. You deserve to be tortured."

"As I thought."

"But you saved my life."

"I did not want to. Rather credit the Queen with your rescue. I was just the instrument. She ordered it."

The anger seemed to drain out of Kerrion. "You are a fool. You disappoint me." He released Blade and stepped back.

"I am not fool enough to believe anything you say."

"Enough of one to think me a liar." Kerrion glanced at the men by the doors. "Get out and close the doors."

The officer opened his mouth to protest, but Kerrion's glare made him close it again, and the soldiers retreated. Blade watched the Cotti King pace around, then he faced the assassin again.

"How long do you have?"

The assassin shrugged. "A few more minutes."

"Who is the Regent?"

"Chiana."

"Can she be trusted?"

Blade smiled. "I would not, but then, she is my wife."

"Your wife!" Kerrion shook his head in bewilderment. "Poor girl."

"My sentiments exactly, but it was her idea." Blade eyed the King. "If you want to tell me something, you had better make it quick."

Kerrion gazed at him, undecided. "Perhaps I should not."

"Make up your mind."

"Do you know why I have come here?"

"To conquer Jashimari. It is what your forefathers have wanted for centuries, but could not achieve because Jashimari was too strong. Now the Queen has placed your daughter on the throne and foiled your ambition. You cannot take what is rightfully hers. You waited until the Contara attacked us, a betrayal that your brother engineered, and still you have failed."

Kerrion smiled, his eyes raking the impassive assassin. "Proud of it, are you not? You always did have too much pride. But in fact I did not come here for that reason. You see, I too have laid plans. Minna is not the only one who can do that."

Blade's knees buckled, and he staggered, startled by the weakness that invaded his legs.

Kerrion stepped forward, but halted at the look in the assassin's eyes. "I see we are running out of time."

"You had better talk faster."

"I came to drive out the Contara..."

Blade fell to his knees as a wave of dizziness engulfed him. Despite his best efforts to counter it, the strange weakness swept through him in a numbing tide. He sank back on his haunches, his head drooping as if he was immensely tired, then he slumped sideways as his legs slid out from under him. He breathed heavily, fighting the creeping numbness that stole through him in an enervating lethargy that sapped his will. Kerrion stepped closer and fell to one knee beside him.