The Queen's Blade III - Invisible Assassin

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The Queen's Blade III - Invisible Assassin Page 12

by T C Southwell


  "See to him. My Lord, what have you been doing? Surely the entire morning is sufficient time for you to bathe and dress?"

  He scowled at the girls who tugged and tucked his clothes. "I was not aware that you expected me to accompany you."

  "Were you planning to arrive after the ceremony?"

  "Actually, I was."

  "That will not do. Sit, so the girls can brush your hair."

  Blade grunted and sank down on a chair, allowing the maidens to comb his hair. He hissed and jerked aside as they set to their task with vigour, remonstrating, "Try not to pull it all out, will you?"

  A maiden knelt to lace his boots; another laced his shirt and buttoned his collar, while a third buttoned his cuffs. She yelped and recoiled as a dagger slid from his sleeve and clattered to the floor, inadvertently released by her hands. He bent to retrieve it, and Minna-Satu groaned.

  "Do not tell me that you are bristling with daggers again, My Lord. Surely you will not need them at my wedding?"

  Blade tucked the weapon back into the wrist sheath. "I take no chances. Who can predict when..." He glanced at the maidens. "...Something may happen?"

  Minna gestured, swinging away in a swirl of heavy skirts. "A fine subject to discuss on my wedding day, My Lord."

  "I did not bring it up." He studied her. "May I say that you look very fine."

  She swung back, smiling. "A great compliment from you. Others would think that an understatement, but from you I take it as high praise indeed."

  "It is an understatement. Words cannot adequately describe you."

  "And you will look most dashing once you have been tidied up. Worthy of escorting me to the altar."

  His head jerked up. "What?"

  "Well, according to Cotti custom, the bride is escorted by her father, who gives her away, so to speak. Since I lack a father, you shall do the honours."

  "We are not Cotti."

  "No, but this is a Cotti ceremony, so we must conform. There is no one else worthy of the honour. I shall not be escorted by a Cotti."

  He shook his head. "I certainly do not relish the thought of giving you to Kerrion."

  "But you will do it."

  "Reluctantly."

  The maidens finished tying his hair and allowed him to stand, and Minna cast a measuring glance over him. "All you need is your torc."

  "It is in my room."

  The Queen sent a girl scurrying to fetch it, fuming at the further delay. When at last Blade was dressed to her satisfaction, she swept towards the door, the assassin following a step behind. At the door she stopped and turned to him.

  "You will have to precede me, My Lord, in Cotti fashion."

  "And against Jashimari custom."

  She inclined her head. "A small price to pay."

  "I hope one day you will be treated as a queen here, and not a grovelling baby bearer."

  "Kerrion will see to it."

  "I hope so."

  She smiled. "Rest assured, Lord Conash, I will settle for nothing less. This state of affairs will soon change once we are wed."

  He stepped around her to open the door. "Good."

  The assassin preceded his Queen into the corridor, slowing his pace to allow her to sweep along with regal grandeur. A gaggle of handmaidens clad in filmy gowns followed to hold up the yards of silk that trailed behind her. Two maidens walked before them to sprinkle petals in their path, leading the way down the echoing halls towards the great room where the groom and guests waited.

  At the doorway, he paused to offer his arm to the Queen, walking beside her into a vast room filled with Cotti nobles. The murmur of conversation died away at the bride's appearance, and Blade sensed hundreds of eyes boring into him as he traversed the aisle that opened up before him.

  Although Kerrion's great hall was not gold-plated like its Jashimari counterpart, what it lacked in glitter it made up for in sheer size, being almost twice as large as Queen Minna-Satu's and forested with carved marble pillars. Jade and crystal statues lined the distant walls and bright mosaics covered the floor, walls and ceiling, their images picked out with semi-precious stones whose value was beyond calculation.

  The nobles drew aside to reveal Kerrion waiting beside the strangely clad Cotti priest who would perform the ceremony. Only a skull cap, a red loincloth and a surfeit of gold chains covered the aged priest's nakedness. His sagging flesh revolted Blade, who averted his gaze from it with a grimace. Kerrion, by contrast, was resplendent in a royal outfit of white and gold with a high collar offsetting his pale hair, golden eyes and bronzed skin.

  The strangeness of the setting struck Blade as he approached the King, so different from Jashimari in dress and culture. The clergy and nobles were all male, though some shy, veiled women stood amongst the splendidly clad men, looking dowdy beside their gaudy husbands. In this culture, the men wore all the finery and the women dressed plainly, accentuating the difference of Minna's finery and Blade's simple outfit.

  Blade suppressed a sigh of relief when he reached the King, and Minna released him. He stepped back with a brief bow to her before seeking a quiet corner in which to stand and watch the ceremony. While the nuptial couple gazed at each other, the priest droned a lengthy monologue to which Blade did not bother to listen. He watched the crowd, finding Prince Ronan standing with several similar looking young men, his mouth twisted in a sneer.

  Blade turned away, not wanting one of the other young princes to recognise him. When at last the priest fell silent, Kerrion kissed his bride and the crowd cheered without enthusiasm. The nobles resumed their conversations and servants circulated, bearing cups of wine and sweetmeats. Blade helped himself to several goblets whilst he stood against a wall, watching the throng.

  The entertainers made their appearance when he was halfway through his fourth cup of wine. Jugglers, acrobats and fire-breathers first, then a quartet of girls who performed an erotic dance, stripping off their clothing until they were almost naked. The noblemen cheered, laughed and called for a complete strip, some trying to tear the last remnants of cloth from the dancers as they fled.

  Blade found their behaviour uncouth, and longed to return to the peace of his room. The girls proved to be the last of the entertainment, for then the band struck up a new tune and some of the Cotti nobles danced. Once again the difference in culture was marked, for the Cotti women did little more than stand and face their partners while the men danced, and many men danced alone or with others in bawdy groups. Cotti dancing involved a great deal of clapping and stamping, a rather undignified exhibition, Blade thought.

  By now he had consumed several cups of wine, and was a little light-headed. He was surprised when Kerrion and Minna took to the floor, not in the one-sided Cotti dance, but in a Jashimari style. Kerrion held Minna's waist and one hand as they circled the floor with graceful steps. Minna had removed the heavy train, and Kerrion did his best to acquit himself well, grinning as they swept around the floor.

  Many nobles looked shocked and some horrified at this unheard-of exhibition, but the King could do as he pleased. At some point Ronan disappeared, and Blade wondered at his absence, but it did not alarm him. After Kerrion and Minna left the floor, he decided to slip away himself, but a touch on his arm made him swing around.

  Minna grinned at him behind her veil, her eyes sparkling with excitement, the King beside her. "Come, My Lord Conash, it is time you showed these Cotti savages how a Jashimari can dance."

  "You have just done that."

  "Oh, that was nothing. I spent tendays teaching Kerrion though, and he did rather well."

  "Indeed. However, I -"

  "Do not try to wriggle out of it now, Blade, you promised."

  "Actually, I did not -"

  "You did not refuse, and a maybe is as good as a yes to me."

  Blade gritted his teeth. "I cannot -"

  "Of course you can! You are not bashful, are you?"

  "I do not think -"

  "Come, My Lord, do not disappoint me on my wedding day
. I have been so looking forward to it."

  The assassin glowered at her, tight-lipped. He knew full well that the moment he objected again she would interrupt him. Kerrion grinned at Blade's discomfort, clearly enjoying his frustration. A tense silence fell as the assassin refused to be interrupted again, and the King broke it.

  "Come, Lord Conash, Minna has told me about this dance of yours, and I should like to see it."

  "It is forbidden -"

  "Not that one," Minna interrupted again. "Just dance. Where is the harm in that? I will be your partner if you do not wish to be alone."

  "I cannot dance with a partner, I -"

  "You did with Chiana."

  Blade growled, wishing he had left the room earlier. Minna giggled and gestured towards the dance floor. "Should Kerrion announce you?"

  "No!" He glanced around, lowering his voice. "You irritate me, My Queen."

  "Do I? I shall insist, as you know, so you have no choice, My Lord."

  "I may be recognised."

  Kerrion snorted softly. "Fear not, most here are too drunk to think that clearly, and if they do I shall quickly disabuse them of the idea that they have ever seen you before." His eyes raked Blade's outfit. "You look like a lord, and besides, you have already been scrutinised when you walked in with the Queen. If no one recognised you then, they certainly will not now."

  Minna tilted her head, her eyes alight. "Come, Conash, be nice."

  "Very well." Blade sighed and put his empty wine cup on a passing servant's tray. "But someone will have to stop the music."

  "No problem," Kerrion said, lifting an arm. Silence fell, and confused nobles shuffled from the dance floor.

  Blade shot the Queen a final glare before heading towards the cleared area of marble floor, Kerrion and Minna following. The nobles muttered when he appeared from amongst them, the hubbub growing louder as he paused to strap the metal pieces to his boots. He had ordered them made when the dressmakers had fitted his clothes, and put them in his pocket earlier just in case this happened, although he had hoped to avoid it. When he was ready, Kerrion raised his arm again, and silence fell. A pin dropping would have sounded like a thunderclap as Blade walked onto the dance floor, his metal-shod boots clicking on the marble.

  Trying to ignore the audience, he stopped in the middle and tapped a foot in a slow, steady cadence, readying himself for the dance. Lifting his arms, he speeded up his feet until the tapping became a rhythmic rattle, turning slowly. Careful to avoid the set routine of the Dance of Death, he then leapt high, clicking his feet behind him, and settled into a galloping rhythm, kicking his heels up at each step. He changed the rhythm, speeding it up in a series of buzzing quick steps, then leapt high again, clicking his boots together before him this time, his legs outstretched. As he landed, he set off on a series of light running steps that carried him around the dance floor. Reaching the centre of the floor, he performed another series of fast steps, his steel-shod boots beating out a distinct tune on the marble floor, then kicked up his heels behind him again, clicking his feet together at the apex of his leap.

  Minna tugged at Kerrion's sleeve. "Are you impressed?"

  He stared at the assassin. "I am indeed. It is quite remarkable. It must have taken him years to perfect those moves, and a great deal of strength to achieve them." He watched Blade perform a series of high forward kicks, his raised foot reaching above his head each time, accompanied by a resounding clash of metal and glitter of sparks as his boots passed each other.

  He leant closer to murmur, "No wonder he can kill so well when attacked, being able to use his feet in his defence. When I found him in your bier room, he had slain almost a dozen of my soldiers single-handed. I still have the blades that were removed from his boots. Are all your assassins as good at this as he is?"

  Minna-Satu smiled and glanced around to ensure that no one was paying attention to their conversation. "Blade is the Master of the Dance in Jondar, but all Jashimari assassins can perform the Dance adequately, it is a requirement."

  Kerrion watched the assassin float over the floor on blurring feet, the rattle of his boots blending into a simple tune. "I know little about the secret society of Cotti assassins, perhaps I should find out more. I would enjoy watching such a performance again, yet doubtless Blade will not oblige. Strange that no professional dancers have ever come up with anything to rival this."

  "They are all concerned with grace and poise, balancing on one foot and leaping about in odd poses. This dance stemmed from an act of self-defence. Its purpose is to hone the skills of agility and strength as well as speed."

  Kerrion nodded. "I can see where it would be most beneficial in those things. And he does this every day?"

  "This is how he exercises."

  "Impressive."

  Blade rounded out his performance with a series of sideways leg flicks, performed one last foot clashing leap, and fell to one knee, his chest heaving. Straightening, he walked off the floor, a heavy silence following him. The King stepped forward and clapped, and the stunned nobles joined in. The assassin ignored it as he strode from the room, pausing at the door to remove the metal pieces from his boots. Minna watched him leave, knowing that he was angry with her.

  Out in the hall, Blade shucked his jacket, sweat prickling his skin after the spate of strenuous exertion. He headed for his rooms, planning to change out of the unwanted finery and into something more comfortable. Rounding a corner, he stopped in surprise. Ronan walked towards him, looking smug. The Prince spotted Blade and grinned as he approached.

  "Ah, if it is not the Jashimari fop. Had enough of the party already? Does your slut not want you on hand to lick her toes when she demands it?"

  Blade ignored him, setting off down the hall again. Ronan stepped into his path. "I have a message for your assassin, plaything. I know you know where he is, so you can tell him that I have his sister, and if he does not show himself, I shall kill her."

  Blade eyed the Prince. "You are lying. The assassin has no relatives."

  "Oh, yes he does. I have just had her brought here from Indala, where she belonged to Lord Dorgon. Alenstra, I believe her name is. You can tell him -"

  The assassin stepped towards Ronan. "Show me."

  Ronan smiled. "Certainly."

  The Prince turned and walked down another corridor for a short distance before he pulled open a pair of ornate doors and entered an indoor garden filled with sunshine, palms and pools stocked with bright fish. Six guards and two young princes waited there, looking bored. Alenstra sat on the floor between the guards, bound and gagged. The Prince had not yet tortured her, from the looks of it, but he would have no qualms about doing so if the assassin did not make an appearance, at which time Alenstra would tell him everything. Blade turned to Ronan, cold with fury, and the Prince studied him with renewed interest.

  "So, I was right. She is the assassin's sister. Fetch him here, or she dies."

  Blade controlled himself with an effort. "If I fetch him here you will die. I advise you to let her go at once."

  "No, I do not think so. She is the only way I am going to flush out that cockroach, and I will have his head."

  "Let her go."

  "Or what?"

  "I will kill you."

  Ronan laughed. "You, a neutered plaything? I want the assassin, fop, or she dies." He gestured to the guards, and one gripped Alenstra's hair and held a knife to her throat.

  Blade knew that if he killed Ronan now, the guard would slit Alenstra's throat, and taking the Prince hostage would be worse than folly. She could not flee the palace alone, and he would not escape Jadaya with the Prince as his hostage once the alarm was raised. If only he could walk away as he would from anyone else. He was willing to sacrifice himself, but it would not save her if he fought, for her relationship to him would condemn her. The situation was untenable, but there was a chance that Ronan would be so pleased to capture him that he would spare Alenstra.

  Blade released one of the daggers in his sleeves,
letting it fall into his hand. "I am the assassin."

  The Prince's eyes narrowed. "You may think me a fool, but I am not as stupid as that."

  "Let her go."

  "When I have the assassin."

  "You have me," Blade said. "Harm my sister, and you will die so slowly that you will beg for the end."

  Ronan studied him, looking amused and disbelieving. "You? A beardless fop, an assassin?" He gave a bark of laughter.

  "Shall I prove it to you?" Blade raised the dagger, and Ronan's eyes widened. Blade continued, "I would have killed you in the Queen's rooms, had she not ordered me otherwise. Release my sister or die, the choice is yours."

  "If you are the assassin, show me your mark."

  Blade tugged open his collar, and the Prince stepped back. "You are the one who is going to die, murderer! Drop the dagger or they slit her throat."

  Blade glanced at the knife poised against Alenstra's throat and her desperate, tear-filled eyes pleading with him to save her, just as his younger sisters had done so many years ago. He had failed them, and now had a chance to save the one who had survived. He opened his hand, and the dagger clattered to the floor. Alenstra sagged with relief, and Ronan grinned.

  "Excellent. Now it is you who will die slowly, and not even the King can save you. These witnesses will testify to your admission that you are the Jashimari assassin, and you will be executed for the deaths of my brothers, in Cotti fashion, which is, I assure you, excruciating. And now, I think your sister is redundant. She has served her purpose well." He glanced at the guards. "Kill her."

  "No!"

  Blade leapt towards the men who held Alenstra, but the soldier drew the knife across her throat in a swift stroke. She slumped, her life gushing out in a crimson flood. The assassin released the second dagger from his sleeve and flicked it at the man who had just slain his sister. The soldier fell backwards with a gargled cry, clutching the hilt that protruded from his throat. Blade bent and yanked two daggers from his boots as Ronan recovered from his astonishment and yelled, "Seize him!"

 

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