Blade's Destiny (Ishtar's Legacy Book 3)

by Lisa Blackwood

  “Ah, it’s a good thing one of my gifts is to soothe beasts, then.” He grinned. “Or at least, I can put her gryphon back to sleep. And while hers is dormant, the Blade’s new gryphon nature that would normally grow stronger with each Blooding Ceremony will remain dormant as well.”

  The Anunnaki had such powers?

  “We have our secrets,” he replied to her unvoiced question. “And when Asharru the woman gets tired of waiting for her Blade to return her love, she will turn to me for that and without her gryphon to say no, I will have a chance to win her heart and body.”

  He glanced above him as if he could see through the rough stone of the ceiling.

  “It has been a long time since I have seen the living world. I think I shall go exploring.” He looked back down and then gave them a secretive smile. “Continue as you have been, but don’t make any stupid mistakes, for the future queen is cunning and her Blade is already dangerous.”

  After the Anunnaki was gone, she looked back to her father. “Do you think he can play Nutesh convincingly enough?”

  Her father suggested. “Let us hope so, or we are dead. And I for one would not wish to journey to the afterlife to share the news that we had failed our queen. Ereshkigal is not a forgiving goddess. While we wait and see, I shall begin tightening my hold on the remaining council members, and you shall continue your spying.”

  Nuannin nodded her agreement but was already secretly plotting her own assurance of success. She, for one, had no plan to bring bad news to Ereshkigal.

  One day, when it was her time, she would bow before the Queen of the Underworld proud of her accomplishments in life.

  She’d start by guaranteeing that Asharru fell in love with the Anunnaki—or at least fall in lust.

  Chapter 22

  Tirigan made his way back towards Asharru’s wing of the palace. Since his strange powers had finally returned twice as strong last night after being gone for two days, he’d decided to patrol the palace and grounds, hunting for any signs of the Anunnaki.

  After an entire afternoon and evening of searching the vast structure and finding nothing, he was now ready for a warm meal. And a not so small part of him was looking forward to seeing Asharru again.

  He shouldn’t be so happy about that. He was her Blade, and the more time they spent together, the swifter and stronger their bond would grow. As he walked closer to Asharru, he had to remind himself that being her Blade wasn’t something he’d wanted.

  It was a duty.

  And yet, when he spent time with her, or just listened to the sound of her voice, it didn’t feel like a duty.

  In the days since the Anunnaki attack and his Blooding Ceremony, he’d seen how much responsibility Asharru had to carry as both High Priestess of Ishtar and future queen of New Sumer.

  Councilors. Reports. Nobles. Civil unrest. Planning a funeral. He’d been impressed by her determination to live up to her brother.

  Tirigan wanted to help. Needed to help. But unfortunately, until Asharru managed to convince the council that he, Bashaa, and Laliya were worthy to be named as members, he was limited in how he could help.

  But seeing to protection? That was something he could do as the new Captain of the Shadows. He’d already begun drilling the newest recruits Asharru had borrowed the day she visited Libluth at the garrison.

  But once he had a seat on the council, he would take over the security of Nineveh, seeing that Kuri and Hunzuu had what they needed to rid the city garrison of the most corrupt individuals.

  Then later, he’d begin scouring the slave markets, buying up and freeing as many trustworthy slaves as he was able to find. His powers as a Blade would aid him in sorting them into servants, spies, and guards, depending on their skills, personalities, and aptitude.

  While he saw to those areas, Asharru planned to wrangle with her council, filling in the rest of the vacant seats and then reaching out to the other city-states to encourage travel and trade and, hopefully, that would have a stabilizing effect on all New Sumer.

  He didn’t doubt Asharru’s abilities. She was already making strides with the council. In the end, she’d succeed. They only had to survive long enough to achieve those plans.

  While he’d been going over future plans, his feet had carried him back to Asharru’s chambers.

  Guards lined the hallway in both directions, and Hunzuu nodded and opened the double doors at Tirigan’s approach. He nodded, no other communication needed.

  Inside, there were more guards. Four by the doors leading out to the balcony, two flanking the crown princess’ bedchamber and two more at the door leading to Asharru’s workroom where she often sat for long stretches reading reports and attending to various concerns of the nobles.

  But what most surprised him was that she read the concerns of the laborers, the merchants, and even the sick and injured. Rich or poor, Asharru strove to give each of their concerns equal time and attention.

  It was a noble pursuit. But it was also too much for one person, and he’d learned from Hunzuu that she hadn’t gotten a full night’s sleep since her brother’s murder.

  Eyes narrowing, Tirigan frowned at Kuri who was standing beside the door.

  “Don’t glower at me, Pretty Man, I told her she should go find her bed, but she chased me out with the threat of having me carry Libluth’s reports to her each day if I nagged her again.”

  “Coward,” he said with a grin aimed at Kuri just before he crossed the threshold into Asharru’s workroom.

  Inside, the walls were lined with shelves overflowing with records. A large table took up much of the floor space. Scrolls of the different city-states cluttered its surface.

  He bypassed the table and made for the hearth at the back of the room. By the dim glow of the dying embers, he could just make out the outline of Asharru’s favorite writing desk and chair.

  Presently, Asharru was slumped forward over the desk, her soft snores reaching his ears. He paused. Just looking down at her, taking in the rare sight of her sleeping. How soft and delicate she seemed.

  It was a lie. Asharru was a warrior at heart.

  But now, in moments like this, he could also see the softer side.

  This side called to him as much as her warrior’s heart, but for a different reason.

  And there was the danger. He couldn’t allow himself to become emotionally attracted to his future queen. Emotions muddied logic and reason. Two traits that a Blade must have and keep sharp.

  Sighing, he rubbed the back of his neck and then looked back down at Asharru’s sleeping form a second time.

  Damn it. He couldn’t just leave her like this. She should be in her bed where she’d get a better night’s rest.

  He leaned down and gently scooped her up into his arms. She stirred, but didn’t wake, merely muttering his name before wrapping her arms around his neck and tucking her face against his throat.

  Her breath puffed warm and damp against his skin, and he’d be lying if he denied enjoying the tender moments like this.

  With his monarch snuggled safely in his arms, he started out of the room and toward her bedchamber.

  Once he reached her bed, he gently set her down, though she was reluctant to release him.

  “Come now, my Princess. It’s time to sleep. I’ll find something for you to wear.”

  She released him with an accompanying little purr of happiness.

  Tirigan grinned at the sound. She spent a short while each day in her shifted form, saying if she didn’t the beast would pick a time not of Asharru’s choosing.

  During those times, the gryphon enjoyed cuddling up with him while he read the reports Libluth shared with the princess about the city garrison’s expenses.

  It came as a bit of a surprise, how much Tirigan liked spending time with Asharru in her shifted form. The beast always had a way of disarming him and making him relax. Her scent, her warmth, her calming presence. He loved everything about the creature.

  Still grinning, he went to Asharru�
�s wardrobe, looking for one of the shifts she often wore. After a short hunt, he returned to the bed. Gathering her into his arms, he stripped her out of her clothing and redressed her in the shift.

  And if he enjoyed the feel of her naked body against his more than he wanted to admit, he’d blame it on her clinginess. She kept trying to wrap her arms around his neck and cuddle closer.

  At last, he pulled back the blankets and then lowered her into bed. He was just pulling the sheets back up when she rolled onto her side and sighed contentedly.

  He thought she’d fallen back asleep until she reached out, her warm fingers closing over his. Then her sleepy voice said his name, drawing his attention more fully to her.

  “My Blade, stay with me and help keep the nightmares away. They haunt me—the visions. I keep seeing his death over and over while I sleep.”

  Tirigan’s eyes widened. “Kadashman?”

  “Yes.” Pain strained her voice. “I felt it, you know. The night it happened. I felt my brother die. But I thought it was a nightmare until the Lamassu came for me.”

  She paused, and he came and sat on the edge of her bed.

  A Blade was also sometimes a monarch’s only confidant. Tirigan would be that for her.

  “There is magic in the blood of the gryphon kings. I’ve inherited it and will pass it on to my children one day. One of the gifts Ishtar granted the first king was the gift of prophecy. I’ve never had the visions before, but that dream of my brother’s death was more than just a nightmare.” Her eyes stared, unseeing. “It haunts me that I didn’t possess a stronger gift. I could have saved him if I’d only seen the attack before it had happened.”

  Something occurred to Tirigan then. “You saw the attack. Did you see the assassin’s face?”

  “No,” the one word came out strained. “The vision was from the viewpoint of the assassin. It was like I was killing my own beloved brother.”

  She gasped, choking on pain she’d never shared with another soul.

  Tirigan lifted the covers and slid in next to her, then gathering her in his arms, he squeezed her fingers in reassurance. “I’ll stay with you.”

  She curled up against him, her one arm going around his waist while her head came to rest on his shoulder. Then she cried, the first tears he’d ever seen her shed. His gift told him it was the first time she allowed another to see her grief. Goddess, the trust she already had in him.

  It was a gift almost as great as his freedom.

  He offered her the only comfort he had to give—a shoulder to cry on and a warm hand pressed against her back, rubbing slow circles as he held her.

  Once she’d cried herself out, he’d expected her to fall asleep, but instead, she nuzzled his shoulder.

  “Thank you, my Blade. For being here for me.”

  “I’ll always be here for you.” It was a simple, unadorned truth.

  Purring sleepily, she rubbed her cheek against his shoulder. This was her gryphon nature, he knew, even if the rumbling purr didn’t give it away.

  The beast adored her Blade, and Tirigan found the gryphon’s gentle love and acceptance far harder to fight than any opponent he’d ever faced.

  Goddess, what would his life have been like if he’d grown up with Asharru and Kadashman here in the royal palace? As a Blade, he likely would have sensed danger to Kadashman in time to save him, thus preventing Asharru from knowing the grief of losing a brother.

  Would Tirigan and Asharru already be mates? Have children?

  Goddess.

  Would he already be a father?

  That thought had never appealed to him before, but now, with Asharru curled against him, the idea of having children, her children, wasn’t horrible.

  But it wasn’t possible either.

  He couldn’t become her mate. If he did, then the gods wouldn’t hesitate to use them both during the Sacred Marriage. And Tirigan couldn’t surrender himself to the gods willingly. Not after he’d tasted freedom.

  He couldn’t become a slave again.

  Not for the gods.

  Not even for Asharru.

  He laid awake, the future queen a soft, warm bundle in his arms as he stared out the window, watching as the stars drifted across the sky in their nightly paths. The moon sank into the west, and still, he watched the sky as the stars faded and the first hint of pink appeared in the sky.

  At last, he gently freed himself from Asharru’s grasp.

  Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

  “That is for what could have been, my princess. Would that fate had only been so kind as to give us all those years together. If I’d grown up knowing you, I would have loved you, but I am a broken, damaged thing. I am no longer able to love you as you deserve. I’m truly sorry for that.”

  Straightening, he stepped back and walked away from Asharru, and away from the love they might have once shared.

  Chapter 23

  Asharru drummed her fingers on the council table when she’d have much rather taken the hilt of her sword to the tops of each of her remaining councilors’ heads. Three days had passed since the Anunnaki attack.

  Yesterday, she’d presided over Diimeritia’s funeral as her first act as the new High Priestess. It would likely be the only funeral she would personally have to preside over, but it drove home why she needed to anoint a new high priestess as soon as possible.

  She couldn’t be both high priestess and ruler of the ten city-states.

  As it was, she’d only slept for short times each night. Last night was the longest she’d slept in ages, finding solace in Tirigan’s arms. But he’d been gone from her bed when she woke, and now she wondered if his kindness was more out of pity for her then something more personal.

  But duty called, and she didn’t have time to dwell on what her Blade may or may not feel for her.

  Now, after hours of debate, she was almost ready to toss her hands in the air in utter defeat, turn over the kingdom to a regent, and return to Uruk as High Priestess. She would still have offspring one day, and the throne could go to them, a traitorous little voice whispered in her mind.

  Hah.

  That was tempting. But she wasn’t a quitter. Nor would she abandon her brother’s legacy.

  Narrowing her eyes, she scowled at the council.

  There was only three of them. And they looked innocent enough, but they were so stubborn and set in their ways.

  How was she supposed to inspire and lead a full council if she couldn’t even get these three to cooperate with each other or listen to her ideas?

  And she had so much she wanted to implement.

  Traditional councils of the past only ever had six seats, forcing the ten city-states to bicker and deal amongst themselves for favor and to gain enough power to win and hold a council seat.

  Her teachings said it was to force the city-states to work together, to form partnerships and strong, lasting relationships with each other.

  That had earned a mental snort at the time. It still did.

  The councilors only had their own self-interest in mind. But she wanted to change that by giving each city-state a seat at the table. It wouldn’t be easy making the change, but it hadn’t occurred to her that she would first have to battle her three existing council members into submission at each council meeting.

  Nothing was ever going to get done.

  Clubbing them all unconscious might be appealing, but it wouldn’t help her convince the council to name Tirigan, Bashaa, and Laliya to the positions she had in mind.

  And unfortunately, until she was crowned queen, she couldn’t just assign new people to vacant council seats. The council had to first debate and agree upon her choices.

  If things continued as they were, Asharru would be old and grey by the time they finished their debating because apparently, they didn’t like her choices.

  Because they were her choices, not theirs.

  “Were you not begging me less than three days ago to fill the empty seats? Now here I
have put forward my choices, and you refuse them all? New Sumer needs a working council, and needs it now.”

  Councilor Dipatusu, the grieving son of Diimeritia, had come and he was more inclined to listen to her than the other two were. Ekurzakir seemed to be set against almost anything she wanted to accomplish, but he did it in a non-aggressive way, which made it all the more annoying. She preferred opponents that she could fight.

  Isiratuu, the third of the remaining council, was a gryphon of middle years. She was outwardly calmer that her two council brothers, but inwardly Asharru sensed her fear. Ekurzakir’s plan appealed to the woman.

  She almost always voted with him.

  Asharru usually could count on Dipatusu to side with her, but even he was cautious this time.

  “You are asking a lot for us to accept these three strangers into our midst. We haven’t even had time to vet them.”

  “They are not strangers to me.” Which was both a lie and the truth.

  Dipatusu nodded in acknowledgment of her words. “We understand and appreciate that you are trying to save New Sumer, but so are we. Perhaps if you give us something in return, a new sign of hope, we could come to an agreement.”

  Ekurzakir leaned forward in his chair as if this was the opening he’d been waiting for. “Yes. There is something you could do to reassure New Sumer. If we name these three to the council and you announce your pick of a male for a Trial Year, those things would do much to reassure our kingdom.”

  So that’s what he’d been fishing for?

  The urge to hit something grew stronger. Their kingdom was in trouble, and they were worried about the succession. They thought if she had babies it would solve every issue?

  Her brows drew together.

  She sucked in a breath and then let it out slowly.

  Killing the rest of her council in a fit of rage wouldn’t fix anything.

  “I shall think on your proposal,” you viperous, venom spitting, power-hungry old windbags, “and get back to you with my answer.”

  And I’m damned well going to look for other ways to get around you even if I have to resort to blackmail.