Sacrifice: The Queen's Blade (32 page)

"When I was dying he held my hand, and I knew peace. It was as if I was in the presence of a true saint." She shivered. "Nothing touches him."

Kerrion looked thoughtful. "Purity. That is what he has. Innocence. Unsullied by the longings of the flesh and untainted by its corruption. You are right, nothing has touched him since he escaped from my father's camp."

"It is as if God decided that he had suffered enough, and put a shield around his soul."

He sipped his wine. "I think we have finally figured him out. Either that, or this wine is stronger than I thought."

Minna giggled. "It is. But now you understand why I want no harm to come to him?"

"Do not concern yourself, he will be all right."

Chapter Fifteen

Blade did not look up when the jailer's shadow fell upon him, experience giving him a fair idea of what to expect. For the first two tendays of his imprisonment he had spent all his time in a dark, dank cell. He would wake to find a bowl of congealed food and stale bread waiting, sometimes half eaten by rats. His only measure of time was the number of meals he received, for no sunlight entered his cell, which seemed to be carved into the oasis' bedrock.

A dim glow from the torches in the corridor provided his only illumination, shining in through the barred window in the door. Gradually he spent more time awake, until the day the jailer had found him awake while delivering his food, and marched him to the yard to be put to work. He was given a hammer and set before a pile of rocks, his task obvious. The first day had been hard. His hands soon bled from the sharp stones and his ineptitude with the hammer led to many bruised fingers.

Blade had worked slowly, making the jailer growl as he tapped at the stones with little effect, yet still managed to cut and bruise himself quite badly. The wave of darkness, when it came, had been welcome. He had woken in his cell to find his hands bandaged, so evidently his jailers took their orders seriously, but when he started to work again, the bindings soon frayed away. His fellow inmates, mostly Jashimari, paid him scant attention, for he was not housed amongst them when not at work. Since then, another two tendays had passed, and his sleepiness had abated almost too normal. The work had hardened and callused his hands, and the shackles had scarred his wrists.

The burly jailer, Urgon, spat on the ground beside him. "Work faster, weakling, your pile is still the smallest. No laggards allowed around here." He bent to thrust his filthy face close to Blade's, sneering, "I know it's not the kind of work you're used to, My Lord, but we do expect it to be done a little faster than this. I do hope your pretty hands aren't bruised again; we can't have that, can we? You're supposed to smash the stones, not your fingers."

Blade met his brown eyes with a steely gaze. "Why don't you go stick your head in the furnace?"

Urgon's cheeks mottled, but he controlled his temper with an effort. Blade had already had several such altercations with him, but Urgon always kept his cool. Now the assassin found it amusing to bait the man, knowing that Urgon could not risk injuring him. Urgon straightened and strode away.

Blade laid his hammer down and called after him, "In fact, I don't feel like working today."

Urgon swung around, his shaggy blond brows meeting above his broad nose. "You'll work, prisoner, or you'll get a taste of the lash!"

Blade wagged a finger at him. "Careful, my health is delicate."

"Nothing's that delicate, you scum! Maybe a bit of a licking will toughen you up. I've been lenient on you for far too long. Now get to work!"

The assassin dusted his hands and folded his arms. "I don't know why I've been doing this, actually. You can't force me to."

"I bloody well can!" Urgon strode towards him. "A good lashing never killed anybody!"

Blade's eyes narrowed as the jailer pulled a short whip from his belt and flexed it. Urgon stopped beside him and leered, his eyes sparkling with glee. "Strip off the jacket, Jashimari fop. I'll put some marks on that lily white hide of yours, you beardless wonder."

The assassin eyed him. "You don't honestly expect me to do that, do you? How stupid do you think I am?"

"Too stupid by far, it seems." Urgon turned to shout at some guards who loitered on the far side of the yard. "You two! Come and undress our girlish lord. He doesn't know how to do it himself."

Two guards headed towards Blade, grinning. The assassin watched them, realising that this time Urgon intended to make good on his threat. Casually he picked up the hammer as if to start work again, but raised it and brought it down on Urgon's toes. The jailer howled and hopped, dropping the whip to clutch his foot. The rest of the prisoners sniggered, their hollow eyes bright in filthy, bearded faces. The guards broke into a run, and Blade rose to his feet in a smooth motion, facing them. The soldiers reached him and hesitated, glancing at the red-faced jailer.

"Strip him!" Urgon yelled. "Tie him to the whipping post!"

The men stepped forward, and Blade flung the hammer, which hit one in the face. He staggered back with a grunt, blood pouring from his nose. The second man lunged at Blade, and the assassin lashed out with his chains, felling him with a crunch of breaking bone. Urgon shouted for more guards, and five ran to help. Blade floored another before the rest pinned his arms. He struggled and cursed as they dragged him towards the massive, scarred whipping post in the centre of the yard.

The rest of the prisoners took a respite from their work to watch this one-sided tussle. Blade growled as the soldiers cut away his shirt, ripping the garment off him. They lifted him and hooked the chain that linked his wrists over a protruding wooden peg high up on the whipping post. His feet barely touched the ground, and the chain between his ankles was fastened to a ring at the base of the post. Blade gave up his futile struggles and waited for the first blow to fall.

Urgon stood behind him, chuckling. "Now isn't that a pretty sight? A nice collection of scars, but none from a lash. I'll add some, shall I, My Lord?"

Blade cried out as the first blow fell, the agony lancing through him in a fiery flash. He twisted and struggled, the tendons in his arms popping under the strain as he tried to find a way to retaliate. The Cotti's methods of restraint, however, proved secure, and he could do nothing to prevent the next blow from falling. He shouted obscenities with every lash, his curses goading Urgon to greater savagery, drawing blood as the whip bit deeper. The assassin's stream of abuse only stopped when he passed out after twenty-seven lashes. Urgon wiped the bloody whip and grinned, gesturing to the guards.

"Take him to his cell."

Kerrion eyed the senior advisor who had just presented himself, giving him leave to rise. Taldar had just returned from Jashimari, and he was eager to hear the latest news. The King shifted on the uncomfortable throne, wishing, as he always did, that it possessed cushions. He hated these formal audiences where his lords and advisors were free to air their complaints or offer advice, something he discouraged with hard looks and scowls at any who stepped forward. Taldar's presence, bringing interesting news, brightened this session considerably. He nodded to the grey-haired man, who bowed his head and began his oratory.

"Sire, I bring good news from the front. The Contara have been driven back into their lands, and now seek a truce with Prince Armin, which he has refused. On your orders he invades Contara even as we speak, and expects to conquer it by winter."

Kerrion nodded. "Good, excellent. What else?"

"Our relations with the Jashimari remain cordial. Your advisors are well received and your envoys have met with goodwill. Already considerable trade has been negotiated, and the first stipend of goods you specified is being assembled. The Regent has lodged a formal complaint regarding the removal of the bodies of the former Queen Minna-Satu and the Regent's husband, Lord Conash."

The King waved a negligent hand. "Let her complain all she wishes, there is nothing she can do about it."

A mutter of agreement went through the assembly, and Taldar bowed, stepping back, his report finished.

"What of my daughter, Queen Kerra?" Kerrion asked, halting the advisor's retreat.

"I believe she is well, Sire."

"Good. Make sure I am informed of all her progress. I want to know when she cuts her first tooth, takes her first steps and speaks her first word, you understand?"

"Of course, Sire."

Kerrion waved him away, and another advisor stepped forward to air his grievance, which, as was often the case these days, was to do with Jashimari and the relationship between the kingdoms. Kerrion had long since tired of the argument, and dismissed the man with a few terse words. The next man to step forward was one of his spies, and asked to be allowed to approach the throne. Although his spies usually reported to him in the privacy of his rooms, approaching him at audience was not unheard-of. Since the meeting was in public, the spy then had to come close to murmur his news into the King's ear. The man knelt beside the throne.

"Sire, the Jashimari prisoner has been punished for disobeying the jailer in the yard. He lies in his cell now, unable to work."

"How bad is he?"

"He received seven and twenty lashes Sire, but he will live."

"He had better." Kerrion nodded, and the spy hastened back to the ranks, vanishing into them.

The King fidgeted through the remainder of the audience. As soon as it was over he marched from the audience hall and headed for the dungeons. His presence caused an uproar as soldiers ran ahead to warn of his coming, and doors were unlocked to admit him. Guards straightened their tunics and stood to attention as he strode past.

The stench of mildew and rot, mixed with unwashed humanity and excrement made his stomach knot. When the massive, sweaty jailer presented himself, wiping his greasy face, Kerrion was hard put not to cover his nose at the man's pungency. Urgon fell to his knees, bowing his head, and Kerrion did not give him leave to rise, preferring to be taller than the smelly giant.

"I am informed that you have punished the Jashimari prisoner I sent you."

"Yes, Sire."

"I trust his life is not in danger, for if it is, so is yours."

Urgon shook his head. "No, Sire, he's in no danger of that, I swear. He's in pain, but in prison punishment is necessary."

"I am not telling you how to do your job. I wish to see him at once."

"Yes, Sire."

Urgon stood up, keeping his head bowed and his eyes lowered. He led the way through several narrow corridors before he stopped before a door and pulled back the two bolts that secured it. Kerrion took a torch from one of the guards and entered the cell, ordering the door to be closed. He placed the torch in a sconce and turned to look down at the recumbent assassin.

Blade lay on his stomach, and his eyes opened a slit as Kerrion squatted beside the hard pallet. The King studied the bruises and bloody lash marks on the assassin's back.

"Has a healer seen this?"

Blade raised his head. "Come to gloat, have you?"

"No, I was concerned about you."

"Concerned. How touching. Making sure I do not die before I have suffered enough is more like it." He rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow. His mouth twitched as he subdued a grimace. "If you think that this sort of treatment is going to persuade me to help you, I am afraid your chances were reduced considerably with every lash."

"All you have to do is agree, and I will have you taken out of here right now. You will have a comfortable room, good food, wine, anything you want."

The assassin shook his head. "You think I am that easy to break?" He gave a snort of laughter without smiling. "The longer I sit in this damned place, the less chance you have, and you had almost none to begin with."

"Almost? You flatly refused."

"So, you thought that if the carriroot did not work, try the whip?"

"The carriroot is still there."

"What's next," Blade sneered, "brute force?"

"I do not know. Why do you not tell me what would work? Whatever it is, whatever you want, I will do it."

"There is nothing you can offer, or do to me, that will change my mind."

"There must be something. No one can be this stubborn. You said I had almost no chance to begin with, that means I must have had some, so tell me what it is."

Blade smiled. "No."

The King stood, glaring down at the assassin. "Damn you, Blade, you are digging your grave. Rot in prison then, if that is what you want so much."

Kerrion jerked the torch from its sconce and strode to the door, thrusting it open and almost bowling over those who waited too closely outside. The group of soldiers parted before him, and Kerrion paused in their midst to turn to the cringing jailer.

"Make sure a healer sees to his wounds, and ensure that the cure is as painful as the beating."

Urgon's face fell. "But Sire, he injured three guards in the yard and crushed two of my toes -"

"I do not give a damn about your toes."

"He's dangerous, Sire."

"I know that. He is in chains, so tie him up. Are you an idiot?"

The King marched away up the corridor, eager to quit the dungeons' stink. Torch-bearing men trotted after him to shed light in his path.

Kerrion did not tell Minna-Satu about Blade's encounter with the whip, preferring not to spoil her happiness. A tenday after her arrival in Jadaya, Shista had padded into the palace, panting and gaunt, her eyes glazed with the longing that had driven her to cross the desert in search of her friend. The reunion had been tumultuous and ecstatic. The big cat had bowled Minna over with her enthusiasm and licked her face with a rasping tongue until Minna had pushed her away and clung to her neck.

Shista's purring had almost drowned out the Queen's joyful weeping, and the two had rolled about ignominiously on the floor for several minutes. When at last the fervour of their greeting had been spent, the sand cat had taken up her usual position in a cool patch by the wall. With her familiar at her side once more, Minna seemed to be more contented with her situation. Although she still missed Kerra and worried about Blade, Shista's presence lifted her spirits immensely.