The Queen's Blade V - Master of the Dance

by T C Southwell

  Redgard returned in the afternoon, accompanied by a stocky young man with short dark hair and hard green eyes, whose silent watchfulness reminded her of Blade. Redgard introduced him as Bolt, and his weapon of choice was the tiny crossbow that hung on his belt, alongside numerous quarrels. He wore the tight black leather clothes assassins favoured, and walked with a gliding, graceful stride. The red and black-striped spider that clung to his shoulder was of a particularly venomous variety, and the sight of it made her shiver. It struck her as odd that Blade would take on an apprentice who was spider kin, since he disliked them. Bolt bowed, and sat when she gestured to a cushion, his eyes darting about the room.

  "I am honoured to meet you, Regent." His hand rested on the hilt of a single dagger in his belt.

  "You are Blade's first apprentice?"

  "Yes."

  "Are you as good as him?"

  Bolt hesitated, then shook his head. "No."

  "But he trained you."

  "I am probably the best you can hire in Jondar."

  "Are you the Master of the Dance?"

  Bolt smiled. "No. The belt is held by Blade's second apprentice, Lance."

  "Yet you claim to be the best."

  "I am, My Lady. I have little talent for the Dance, but I kill from afar, and have never missed my target."

  She studied him. "Blade did not give me a name, but he told me to hire his apprentice, so I must assume he meant you."

  "I am sure he did. Lance is an excellent dancer, but he is not as good an assassin as me."

  "I hope you are right. I wish to hire you to kill Prince Endor."

  The assassin's eyes brightened. "A worthy target, My Lady. A man who deserves to die is always a pleasure to kill."

  "You enjoy killing?"

  "If I did not, I would not be an assassin."

  "Of course." She became brisk, realising that this man was nothing like Blade. "What is your fee?"

  Bolt named a reasonable sum, and she agreed to pay it. Insash and Armelin had concurred that Endor would head for Contara, so she told Bolt to search in that direction, described Endor and his familiar, and offered him a bonus for a speedy outcome.

  When all the details had been discussed, she added, "Endor has my familiar with him, in a cage. She is a dove, and I will reward you handsomely if you save her and free her."

  He inclined his head. "I will do my best, Regent."

  "I expect more than your best. I require your utmost effort in this regard. Her safe return is vital." Chiana controlled the rising urgency of her tone, striving to remain calm. "Captain Redgard will see that you have whatever you require, as well as a down payment. You will depart immediately."

  "As you wish."

  "You understand that Endor will be well guarded? If you fail, he will know I sent you, and kill my familiar. If that happens, I shall fall into a deep sleep from which I cannot be awakened, and Jashimari will be without a ruler for that time. It could lead to a disaster."

  "I understand, Regent. Never fear, I will kill Endor."

  Chiana eyed him, wondering if he was really as good as he claimed. He seemed too confident, and the fact that he was not the Master of the Dance worried her. Had Blade been speaking of Bolt when he had told her to hire his apprentice, or Lance? She longed to be able to ask him, but all she could hope was that Bolt was telling the truth, yet a nagging doubt ate at her. After the assassin left, she went to the palace temple and prayed for his success.

  Four days passed while Blade waited for Prince Trelath and Chaymin to obey Kerrion's summons and return to the palace. The King's younger half-brothers, having failed to force Kerra to become Prince Endor's hostage by kidnapping Minna-Satu, remained at large. Kerrion had ordered their return, so Blade could kill them, and the King planned to have his vengeance first. Blade took his daily exercise in the garden, and did a little reconnaissance at night, spying out the terrain. He spent some of the time teaching Kerra the finer points of killing, although he doubted that she would ever need the skills, and if she did, that she would have the stomach for it. It helped to pass the time, however, and she seemed to enjoy it, although he suspected that much of her enjoyment stemmed from spending time with him.

  Blade dined with the royal family a couple of times, at Minna's invitation, but took little interest or part in the conversation. The manservant, Olan, attended to the assassin's needs with the same surly attitude he had affected on Blade's previous stay. Blade met Minna's sons, who were reserved in his presence, but treated him with respect. He suspected that Minna-Satu had regaled them with the tales of his deeds, but they hid their fascination better than Kerra had.

  The morning of the fifth day found Blade strolling in the hidden garden, enjoying the fresh air and pleasant scenery. Kerrion came into sight on the path ahead, and stopped before him, his expression grim.

  Blade halted, eyeing the Cotti King with some annoyance.

  Kerrion announced, "Chaymin has returned, and Trelath has been sighted a day's ride away. Since Endor is in hiding, and has not received my summons, we will proceed without him."

  "Endor has left the palace in Jondar?"

  "Yes. I do not think it will be possible to summon him here -"

  "No, but his death is assured."

  Kerrion nodded. "Of course, Chiana will hire your apprentice to kill him, as she agreed. I am going to meet Chaymin now, and tomorrow night you will kill him."

  "Chaymin will die when Minna-Satu requests it, not you."

  Kerrion shrugged, a slight smile tugging at his lips. "As you like. I shall inform her that you want to hear her wishes from her."

  "Good. I will need information on Chaymin and Trelath."

  "I have it here." Kerrion reached into his tunic and drew out two scrolls. "If I have omitted anything, let me know."

  "I shall." The assassin tucked the scrolls away and brushed past Kerrion, continuing his stroll down the path.

  The King watched Blade walk away, wondering what it would be like to have him as a friend. Though unlikely, the possibility had a great deal of appeal for him, for he found the assassin to be oddly likeable, despite his taciturn manner and frosty looks.

  Turning away, he entered the palace and headed for the training arena at the back, where royalty and those of noble blood honed their combat skills. Usually it was filled with young men practising their talents on each other or instructors, the sons of Kerrion's cousins, aunts or sisters, well removed from the succession. One of the massive marble chamber's walls had a row of windows in it to allow cool breezes to enter. Square columns supported a high vaulted ceiling, and murals of battle scenes graced the walls. Hard-packed sand covered the floor to provide firm footing whilst cushioning the occasional fall. Racks of wooden sparring spears, swords and staffs stood against a windowless wall, and a row of straw-stuffed dummies awaited sparring partners at the far end. The King frequented it four times a tenday at a prescribed time-glass, when all others were banned, save his sparring partner, an expert instructor.

  Today he had requested its use, although it was not his usual time, and he found it empty save for the thin youth he had ordered to meet him there. Chaymin looked nervous, his beady dark eyes darting about as if seeking escape routes. He was only twenty, and his face bore the scars of the acne that had ravaged it. Even without the unsightly blemishes, Chaymin would never be a handsome man, possessing a too-narrow face, low cheekbones and a large bony nose.

  Chaymin was the only son of Shandor's youngest wife, the daughter of a loyal lord who had sought to curry favour with the King. She had produced weak, sickly children, and had quickly fallen from Shandor's favour. As a result, her father had lost his high standing, and been forced to return to his estate. Chaymin had no great aptitude for combat or intellectual pursuits, and had become his stronger, more intelligent half-brothers’ pawn. Kerrion almost pitied him, but his involvement in Minna's abduction was unforgivable.

  The King stopped before his half-brother and raked him with hard eyes as the Princ
e performed the low, complicated bow that minor lords favoured.

  "Chaymin."

  "Sire." Chaymin straightened, keeping his eyes lowered.

  "When you helped Trelath to kidnap my wife, did you consider the consequences if his plan failed?"

  "I only -"

  "It matters not how little you did. You were in league with him. You knew of his plans and did not warn me. Your familiar carried messages for him."

  "He threatened me!"

  Kerrion snorted. "Then you should have come to me at once. Do not lie to me, Chaymin. What did he promise you? Land? Riches? Have you not enough already?"

  "I did not want to do it."

  "Then you should not have. Who else was part of his plan?"

  Chaymin lifted his head and met the King's eyes, blinking. "No one. Only Endor."

  Kerrion took hold of the front of Chaymin's tunic and dragged him closer. "Who else?"

  "No one, I swear!"

  "You are lying. Tell me who else was involved, and I may go easy on you." He drew back a fist, and Chaymin's eyes widened.

  "You cannot! I am your brother!"

  "I can, and you are a snivelling, spineless little runt who goes along with anything the others suggest in the hope of gaining status in their eyes. But all you earn is scorn, because you do not have a mind or a will of your own. Trelath would have cast you aside like one of his concubines when he had no more use for you. Now tell me who else was involved."

  "I cannot! I know nothing! Do you think Trelath would tell me?"

  Kerrion's fist cracked into his brother's face, and Chaymin staggered back, almost falling. He straightened, clutching his cheek, and sidled away, his eyes filled with pleading. Kerrion followed, rubbing his fist.

  "Who else, Chaymin?"

  "No one!"

  Kerrion punched Chaymin in the stomach, making him double over, retching. He gripped the Prince's hair and jerked his head up, glaring into his moist eyes.

  "Last chance, brother!"

  Chaymin gasped, his tears overflowing. "Trelath threatened to make me disappear if I did not do what he said, and the same if I talked."

  "If you do not talk, I will cripple you. I cannot kill you, but I can do whatever else I like. A couple of broken legs will make your life very difficult. Maybe a broken arm will make it even more unpleasant." Kerrion caught Chaymin's wrist and twisted his arm behind his back until the tendons popped.

  The Prince squealed, "Dravis!"

  Kerrion released him and stepped back in surprise, shaking his head. "You lie!"

  Chaymin nursed his arm. "No. Dravis was in on the plan from the beginning. He made several suggestions. I did not."

  "You are too stupid. But Dravis is just a boy!"

  "He hates you. He blames you for our father's death."

  "I had nothing to do with it," Kerrion said.

  "No, but your wife was the Jashimari Queen, and she ordered his death so you would become King. What is more, you saved her life, wed her, and will put her sons on the Cotti throne."

  Kerrion stared at the cowering Prince. "I see. There is a certain amount of truth to that, I suppose. But Dravis never knew Shandor; he was just a baby when the King was killed."

  "Which is why he idolises Shandor. He does not remember what he was like. I was only five when father was killed, but I remember."

  "Yes, he had a particular dislike for you, did he not?"

  Chaymin nodded. "He called me a runt. He used to slap me and order me to leave his sight. He said I offended him, and that I was not his son."

  "I remember. At least he did not try to have you killed."

  "Lerton was his favourite."

  "Yes. But Dravis?" Kerrion shook his head. "He is only eighteen."

  "He would like to see you dead."

  The King lowered his gaze to the sandy floor, thinking about his youngest half-brother. Dravis was known as the golden child, and his sharp, intense mind matched his good looks. He was the fourth son of Shandor's third wife, brother of Rigal, whom Blade had killed fifteen years ago. Some doubted that Dravis was Shandor's get, for he had inherited none of his father's traits or looks, nor did he take after his mother. He possessed smooth, sultry features with slanted, dark-lashed golden eyes and a smiling mouth.

  Rigal had been a handsome youth too, but he had looked more like his father. Dravis possessed a boyish charm that led most to believe he was a cheerful lad with a sunny disposition. Kerrion had never suspected him of any involvement in his brothers' plots, for he was independent and clever. Kerrion looked up at Chaymin, recalling the one fact that supported his brother's accusation. Dravis had a powerful and nasty familiar. He was scorpion kin, and his familiar was a deadly species of sand scorpion often found in houses, and responsible for many deaths.

  "What was his involvement?"

  Chaymin shrugged, rubbing his cheek. "Only in the planning, as far as I know. He found the abandoned estate, and he insisted that your wife should be killed once you had done as Endor wished. He said she should be made to suffer for Shandor's death. He encouraged them both."

  "But it was Endor's idea."

  "I do not know," the Prince admitted. "It could have been Dravis'. He has boasted that his familiar could kill you, and no one would suspect him."

  "I wish he had known his father."

  "Shandor would have liked him."

  Kerrion snorted. "You did not know Shandor as I did. He would have hated him. Dravis is too clever and independent. Shandor liked Lerton because he emulated him and praised him constantly. Lerton was Shandor's true son. They were cut from the same cloth."

  "May I go now?"

  Kerrion eyed his brother, who clutched his midriff. "Yes. Get out of my sight."

  "Will you send me away?"

  "You will find out soon enough."

  Chaymin bowed and hastened out, leaving Kerrion gazing after him. Chaymin probably did not deserve to die, he reflected. He would never be a threat, since he was too stupid and malleable to plot against the throne. The cowardly Prince would follow his treacherous brothers, however, which made him as bad as them. Kerrion had hoped that his younger brothers, being so far down the line of succession, would abstain from their older siblings' plots, but it seemed that this was not the case.

  Dravis would be added to the list of potential targets, and sacrificed to keep the others tractable if necessary. The fact that Dravis had threatened Kerrion's life disturbed him, and his deduction that if the King died of a scorpion's sting, blame was not likely to fall on him, was an astute one. Although the palace was relatively free of the deadly creatures, they had killed a few people, even here. Kerrion rubbed his neck to ease the growing tension in it, glanced around, and left the arena.

  Chapter Two

  The following day, Trelath rode into the city with his troops, and entered the palace with his head held high, as if he had done nothing wrong. In the eyes of the courts he was blameless, but it was obvious that he expected Kerrion to seek revenge when he came to the arena armed with a sword. The King frowned when Trelath performed a brief bow and straightened with a bold smile, which told Kerrion that Trelath had noticed the King's lack of a weapon.

  The Prince kept his dark blond hair cropped short, and his light brown eyes held a feral glint that went well with the sly twist of his thin mouth. His time in the desert had burnt his skin a deep bronze, and he exuded health and energy in palpable waves. Like Kerrion and some of his half-brothers, Trelath had aquiline features with a strong, curved nose and thick brows. Though handsome, he lacked the charisma that the King and a few of his brothers possessed.

  "Take off the damned sword, Trelath," Kerrion ordered.

  "So you can beat me up, like you did Chaymin? I am not a fool, like him."

  "You dare to disobey me?"

  Trelath's smile widened. "You have no witnesses, Kerrion. At best, the courts would reprimand me, on your word."

  Kerrion walked closer. "If you draw it you will be guilty of treason, so it is useless
to you."

  "I do not mind being banished. It is better than letting you try to beat me in unarmed combat. If you had brought your sword, we could have fought for the throne, but it cannot be won without weapons."

  "Or witnesses. And imprisonment is also a punishment for treason. For life."

  Trelath smirked. "My brothers would not allow you to commute my sentence."

  "Like Chaymin? I do not think much of your allies."

  "Chaymin is a spineless cur, but he is useful. He does as I say."

  "And who else is in your employ? Do not count on Endor. I believe the Jashimari Regent has ordered him hunted down and killed."

  Trelath's lips compressed into a grim line. "She does not dare. He has her familiar."

  "She knows he will kill the bird anyway. His death is certain."

  "Doubtless you ordered it."

  "I do not rule Jashimari. The Regent has every right to avenge the atrocities he committed in her palace, as she sees fit. Jashimari laws may be applied to Cotti Princes who torture their regent and threaten her queen."

  Trelath growled, "He was not going to harm the stupid girl."

  "My daughter, Trelath. Be sure to remember that, when next you feel the need to insult her. His wish to visit her was a ruse, as you well know. He would have taken her hostage and ruled Jashimari."

  "Even so, it is not a crime."

  "Not here, but Jashimari laws do not favour Cotti Princes. I am certainly not going to intervene on his behalf, am I?"

  Trelath shrugged. "Endor will reach Contara, but his fate really does not concern me, as long as I am safe."

  "Not from me."

  "I am not going to stand here and let you hit me, like Chaymin, and you did not do much to him."

  "He is not worth the effort, and he told me what I wanted to know."

  Trelath's eyes narrowed. "Which was?"

  "The name of your other cohort. Dravis."

  The Prince turned his head and spat on the sand. "Dravis is a child. Chaymin was just trying to save his own skin. He has never liked Dravis, so why not get him into trouble too?"