Lilu looked up with a smile when Symbell rose into the air on blurred wings. The radiant brightened, then vanished with a soft pop and a glimmer of light. Lilu arranged Blade more comfortably, his skin still cool from Symbell's fire, whose effects she suspected would linger for time-glasses. As she pulled the sheet over him, the door banged open and she whipped around to find Jezzel, the red-haired harlot from down the corridor, framed in it. The whore swayed, her face flushed and hair tangled, and eyed the man in Lilu's bed with a malicious sneer.
“So, 'e's bin pokin' ye again, 'as 'e? Yer two never seem to get enough. No wonder yer raced outta the taproom like the 'ounds of Damnation was after ye. Looks like yer rutted 'im 'alf to death, an' all.” She cackled.
“Get out,” Lilu snarled.
“Nah, I wants a bit o' the action too, indeed I does. 'E must 'ave a bit o' spunk left in 'im.”
“Don't you get enough from those louts in the taproom?”
“Aye, 'deed I do. But I wants 'im.” Jezzel stumbled into the room, grabbing the chair. The stench of sour wine hung about her. “Why should yer be the only one 'oo can say they was poked by the Master o' the Dance, eh?”
“I've never said that. You all just assume it, and you're wrong. He would never lie with a two-copper whore.”
“Lies! Why else would 'e spend so much time 'ere?”
“It's his haunt, you stupid cow.”
“Nah, nah, 'e spends too much time in yer room.”
Lilu grabbed the woman when she lunged towards the bed, shoving her at the door. Jezzel lurched back with a curse, her brow furrowing.
“I could 'ave yer thrown out, ye know!” she shouted. “I'm worth more'n yer! Rendal's always complainin' 'bout 'ow yer bother the lads with yer ugly mug!”
Lilu glanced at the comatose assassin, a suspicion forming in her mind. Rendal was the brothel keeper, and she did not think he would tolerate her if he did not have an excellent reason. She stepped towards the drunken whore and pushed her against the wall.
“He comes here because I help him, no other reason! He's wounded right now, you want to see?”
Jezzel stared at her, then nodded. “Aye, prove it if yer can.”
Lilu went to the bed and dragged down the sheet, exposing the assassin's blood-soaked shorts and the crimson-stained bed. Jezzel paled, raised a hand to her mouth, and bolted out of the door to vomit in the corridor. Lilu slammed the door behind her and bolted it. Turning to face the bed, she pressed her back to the door, her eyes stinging with unshed tears.
“You did this, didn't you?” she murmured. “You made this cesspit your haunt so Rendal would let me trade here.”
Lilu approached the bed and sat beside him, stroking the damp tendrils of hair from his brow. He looked gaunt and tired, his eyes sunken.
“God Touched,” she whispered, her heart aching. “What happened to you tonight? Who hurt you? What did you see that made you want to die?” She bent and kissed his forehead. “I love you so much.”
With a sigh, she fetched her needle and thread and stitched the wound in his hip, washed off the blood and dressed it as best she could. By the time she finished, the whorehouse was quiet and she was exhausted. She lay down beside him, the bed wide enough to accommodate her as well, and fell asleep nestled against him.
Chapter Twelve
Blade woke the next day, fortunately after Lilu had risen. He was not well enough to leave, and she persuaded him to stay until he was, which he acquiesced to without enthusiasm, although she knew that he liked to be taken care of. He liked complaining too, but she was used to his sour mood when he was injured, and an occasional glare took the edge off his temper, reminding him that he was the one who needed her help. She did not mention her discovery of the reason for his making the Black Swan his haunt, sensing that he would find it annoying. It lifted her mood, however, and she hummed around the room while she tended him, casting him happy smiles that made him frown.
Three days later, he returned to his rooms, and she missed him greatly. She did not see him for almost a moon, and could not answer Rendal's questions about his absence, except that he was injured and must be recovering. This seemed to mollify the brothel keeper, and the patrons kept coming since the taproom remained the Dance Master's official haunt. The Watch commander visited several times to drain a tankard of ale before leaving again, almost as if he, too, awaited Blade's return.
Lilu's belly swelled with the new child she carried, which she suspected was Oxan's, the massive blacksmith who sometimes used her services when he was exceedingly drunk. Oxan's wife had already borne him twelve children, so there was no doubt about his virility. She hoped for a girl this time. Oxan had sired nine girls on his wife, so her chances were good. Endel was now old enough for the fishwife to care for, although Lilu still fed him when she visited. He was not even two years old.
The afternoon that Lilu entered the taproom to find a familiar black-clad man seated in the shadows, her heart skipped a beat and leapt, hammering, into her mouth. She gulped and approached him, and he raised icy grey eyes to meet hers. Lilu settled on the bench opposite, drinking him in with her eyes.
“How are you?”
He shrugged. “Well enough.”
“It's good to see you back. Where have you been?”
A faint smile twitched his lips. “Resting.” His gazed dropped to her belly and his smile faded. “I see you're expanding again.”
She clasped her swollen midriff. “Unfortunately.”
“You should find a new medicine woman. Clearly the one you use isn't giving you the right herbs.”
“There's only one kind of herb, and it doesn't always work. I'm more fertile than most, I suppose.”
He gazed across the room. “Indeed.”
“I've told everyone who asked that it's not yours.”
“Good. Who did you blame?”
“I said I didn't know. I only have a suspicion, and if I'm right, he won't want anything to do with it, or me, so I'll keep it to myself.”
“Good idea. Who do you suspect?”
His curiosity surprised and pleased her. It seemed to indicate that he was interested, which could only mean that he cared. Then again, he might just be making small talk; he looked bored. “I think it's Oxan's.”
Blade snorted and smiled. “The blacksmith? That great dolt?”
“He wouldn't have been my first choice either.” She sighed.
“Who would?”
Lilu glanced at him, even more surprised. “I don't know. I don't really want another fatherless child.” She hesitated. “But if I had to choose, I'd want it to be yours.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Thank the gods it's not. You'd only want me because I have money, and I'm unwed. I'd make a good meal ticket, huh?”
“No. I think you'd be a wonderful father and sire beautiful children.”
The assassin glared across the room, clearly annoyed, and she wondered who else he thought she would choose, and why it angered him so. Perhaps because he knew it was impossible, and he did long for children. He focussed on something behind her, his gaze becoming intent.
“Go away.”
Lilu rose and retreated to another table, where she sat and watched Blade talk to the Watch commander, wondering what they discussed. The commander dumped a heavy bag on the table, solving the mystery. Evidently Blade had slain someone for the Watch, perhaps the man who had injured him. It certainly looked like he was being well paid. When the commander left, Blade settled into his dark corner, and Lilu glanced around in the hope of finding work. She owed the fishwife a tenday's pay, and had yet to earn it. Spotting Oxan, she schooled her lips into a pouty smile and swayed over to him. He raked her with a scowling glance, licking ale foam off his upper lip. Jezzel had already staked her claim, and clung to his muscular arm, but had not yet persuaded him to go to her room.
Lilu sat on the bench beside him, tossed back her hair with a flick of her head and turned to display the cleavage her low-cut gown exposed.
Oxan eyed her. “Push off, Lilu. Yer fat as well as ugly, now.”
“Some men like it,” she said, blinking.
“Well I don't. 'Tis bad enough me wife's always a bloated pig, when I come 'ere for a poke I don't want to ride another swollen swine.”
The sour-faced drover who sat opposite Oxan chimed in, “Aye, fat whores should be banned from the taproom; they put us off the rest.”
Jezzel leant across Oxan. “Away with ye, Lilu, yer angering the lads. Yer face is enough to put 'em off, and now yer belly's makin' 'em shrivel up too.”
Lilu scowled. “I still have to make a living. My children have to eat. You wouldn't know, since you don't have any, you dried up cow.”
“Well they don't want yer, so go away,” Jezzel snarled.
“Aye,” Oxan agreed. “Go bother someone else.”
The blacksmith shoved her off the bench, and she hit the floor hard, pain flashing up her back. Shooting them a furious frown, she struggled to her feet and leant on the table to thrust her face close to Oxan's, forcing a smile.
“I'll let you have it for a copper.”
“I wouldn't want it fer free, yer ugly cow.”
Lilu's hand cracked across his cheek, and he leapt up with a roar, overturned the bench and sent Jezzel sprawling with a squeal. Lilu backed away, glancing around for a weapon, and, not finding one, turned to run. Oxan's callused hand grabbed her hair and yanked her around, and she shrieked. The blacksmith was well known for his short temper and violent nature, and perhaps slapping him had not been such a good idea, she reflected. His fist cracked into her jaw, sending her crashing into a table, which tilted, and she slid to the floor. Her head rang and she tasted blood. A boot thudded into her belly, making her close her eyes and curl up with a groan.
As she waited for the next blow, a familiar voice spoke above her.
“I have a use for her, but she’s no good to me dead.”
Lilu opened her eyes to find a pair of scuffed black boots mere inches from her face, which bore the marks of the straps that fastened blades to them. Relief gushed through her.
“Do what ye want with 'er,” Oxan rumbled, “just get 'er away from me.”
“Oh, I shall.”
A strong hand gripped Lilu's arm and lifted her, forcing her to scramble onto rubbery legs. Blade dragged her from the taproom, steering her around obstacles, and thrust her into her room. She stumbled to her bed and sank down on it, clutching her aching belly. He slammed the door and flopped down on the chair with a sigh.
“Do you have a damned death wish?”
“I need the money.”
“You have room and board, what do you need more for?”
She raised her gaze to his pale, hard eyes. “My children.”
He rubbed his face. “Gods, Lilu, you try my patience, you really do. Who will pay for their care if you get yourself killed?”
“I don't know. How will they eat if I don't feed them?”
The assassin considered, then dug in the heavy pouch on his belt and drew out a golden, placing it on his palm. “I tell you what. In the interest of peace and quiet in the taproom, so I can enjoy my wine undisturbed, you stay away from that brute, got it?”
She nodded, reaching for the coin. “Thank you.”
He closed his hand. “And if you slap him again, I won't stop him from kicking you to death.”
Lilu nodded again, and he let her take the coin, which she pushed into her bodice, her heart filled with love for him. “How much did the Watch commander pay you?”
“None of your damned business.”
“You were almost killed. I hope it was a lot.”
“I was not almost killed.”
“If I hadn't stopped the bleeding and stitched the wound...”
He groaned, “Here we go again. Do you never tire of reminding me that you helped me?”
“No.”
“You should, it's annoying.”
The urge to hug him overcame her, and she rose and reached for him. Blade leapt up and moved out of reach, wagging a finger at her. “You stay away from me. Go and feed your children.”
Lilu picked up her coat and headed for the door, where she paused to look back. “You're a good man, Blade. Thank you.”
He snorted. “I'm just trying to stop your whining, now go away.”
Lilu knelt and spread her arms as her children ran to embrace her, hugged their precious little forms to her and kissed their hair. The fishwife, Nelta, stood beside the wash basin, Endel on her hip, a pipe clamped between her few remaining teeth. Iron-grey hair framed her weather beaten, square-jawed face, and her narrow, knobbly nose jutted over a rat-trap mouth. Her faded brown eyes, set close together under bushy brows, had a kindly twinkle. Nelta had once been a whore, before her husband had married her when she had claimed to be carrying his child. Whether the son she had borne was his remained a mystery, for the boy, who was now a grown man, looked like his mother. Cutthroats had killed Nelta's husband seven years ago, and since then she had eked out a living selling fish and caring for Lilu's children.
Lilu rose and took Endel, who gurgled and waved his arms, and she sat at the table to feed him. Nelta watched her with a smile.
“That lad's going to be a giant when he grows up, lass.”
“I hope the next one's a girl.”
“Aye, they're always easier.” Nelta winked at Estra, Lilu's four-year-old daughter.
Lilu had no idea who had fathered Estra or her eldest son, Dorron, since they had been born before her beating, when she had entertained soldiers and even a few noblemen. She liked to think that Dorron, aged six, had been fathered by a handsome nobleman's son. Dorron's curly brown hair and green eyes reminded her of the youth. Estra, she liked to imagine, was the daughter of a veteran soldier who had visited her on the night before he went to the temple to become a sacred Knight of the Veil. The girl's straight, light brown hair matched her eyes, and there was something about her that reminded Lilu of the soldier, even though he had been grizzled and scarred.
Endel was her handsomest child, with his black hair and grey eyes, which reminded her so much of Blade. Endel had inherited his grandfather's eyes, however, because Tromar's were brown. She wondered what her new baby would look like, thinking of Oxan's shaven head and hazel eyes with a shudder. The man was ugly, but that did not mean his child would be, too. How she wished it was Blade's child. Then, she was sure, he would be gentler to her, and help her more. Although Lilu appreciated the help he already gave, she was sure he would have made an excellent father.
Nelta puffed a cloud of smoke. “I must go to market, lass. You going to watch the babies while I do?”
“Yes. I'll take them for a walk to the park.”
“Good. I'll be no more than a time-glass. I expect you have to get back to work.”
Lilu nodded. “I’ll be back before you.”
“Right.” Nelta took her coat from the hook behind the door and left.
Lilu dressed her children in warm coats and strolled down the street to one of the city parks. In the affluent areas, they had trees and grass, but in the slums they were little more than areas of packed dirt where children played with dogs, balls and sticks. Estra clung to her hand and Dorron marched ahead, Endel sat on her hip, sucking his thumb. Lilu used the golden to buy the older two hot pies from a barrow-hag and a sticky sweet for Endel. Fourteen silvers would pay Nelta for a moon and buy food for two tendays.
After spending half a time-glass in the park, Lilu headed home, Estra weeping because she was tired of walking. Turning a corner, Lilu froze. Tromar stood just up the street, talking to a merchant. She stepped back, intending to duck behind the corner, but Estra wailed and Tromar glanced around. He scowled and strode towards her. Lilu dragged Estra around the corner, shouting for Dorron, who came trotting back. She hurried along the road, glancing around for somewhere to hide. Houses lined the street, offering no shelter. She came to a lane and ducked into it, hoping Tromar had not seen her. En
del cried and Estra shrieked, tears streaking her flushed face.
Lilu stood with her back to the wall, gasping with terror and exertion. Estra tugged at her skirts, demanding to be picked up, and Lilu raised a finger to her lips.
“Hush.”
Tromar rounded the corner, and his eyes glinted with delighted malice when he spotted her. His shaggy bear followed him, huffing and snuffling in the garbage. There was nowhere left to flee. The alley was a dead end and Lilu was too tired. She wondered if he would kill her in front of her children. He stopped before her, raking her with angry eyes.
“Tho, the ugly whore ith all alone. Where'th your protector, hmmm? The one who did thith.” He gestured to his flattened nose and scarred eyebrows. He spoke with a lisp now, due to his missing front teeth. “I know it wath becauth of you.” He glanced at Endel, who stared at him with wide eyes, and his gaze sharpened. “How old ith he?”
“A year and a half,” she lied.
He shook his head. “No, he'th older than that. Closer to two, I reckon. And he'th the thpitting image of me. Tell me that'th a coincidence and I'll thplit your head for you.”
“I’ve had many black-haired customers.”
“Lying whore. I wath there, remember? I know who your customerth were, and I'm the only one who hath black hair. He'th my thon, ithn't he?”
“No.”
Tromar stepped closer, his expression murderous. “Don't lie to me! I can see he'th my son!”
“He's not! I know who his father is, and it's not you! Even if he was yours, he's mine too, and you have no rights.”
“I'm hith father. I have rights.”
Lilu clutched Endel to her, and Estra hid behind her skirts. Dorron frowned at Tromar, looking puzzled.
The drover's face twisted. “Look at him, drethed in rags. You have no right to my thon. I won't let a dirty whore raithe him.” He reached out to stroke Endel's cheek, and the boy turned to clutch Lilu.
“I'm his mother.”
“You're a two-copper whore!” he shouted. “And you'll be a dead one if you don't give me my thon!” His voice dropped to a vicious mutter. “You already have two, and another one on the way. You can have ath many ath you want, but he'th my only thon.”
The Queen's Blade Prequel II - God Touched Page 16
