The Queen's Blade V - Master of the Dance

by T C Southwell

  "That is what I thought at first, but Chaymin's reasons were convincing."

  "He lied. Speak to Dravis and you will see. He is loyal to you, that is why Chaymin named him. I would have too, for the same reason. Dravis would not go against you, and he would have betrayed us if he had found out what we planned."

  Kerrion cocked his head, smiling. "If that was true, you should have agreed with Chaymin, not defended Dravis. Your words convince me of his guilt."

  "Good, then the little bastard will get his beating too, and turn against you."

  "Very clever, Trelath. No one ever accused you of being stupid, did they? But Chaymin is too much of a coward to lie to me, and too stupid."

  "I told him who to blame."

  "You did not know your plan would go sour."

  "I knew Chaymin is stupid enough to get caught."

  Kerrion shook his head. "Your lies are not convincing. You do not have the ability to do it well. I have a score to settle with you." He stepped towards the Prince, who backed away.

  "I am not going to let you hit me without a fight."

  "I am counting on it."

  The King lunged at his half-brother and punched him in the face before he could raise his arms to defend himself. The Prince staggered back and sat down hard, blood oozing from his split lip. Kerrion walked up to him and jerked his knee into Trelath's face, broke his nose with a satisfying crunch and sent him sprawling on his back.

  Trelath lay dazed, pawing at his face, his eyes wide with stunned disbelief. Kerrion paced around him, his hands clenched, ready to pounce as soon as Trelath regained his feet. The Prince fingered his broken nose, and his mouth twisted into an ugly snarl. The feral glint in his eyes flared, and he rolled away from Kerrion, leapt to his feet and drew his sword in a smooth motion.

  Like all his brothers, Trelath had been trained to fight from an early age, and had excelled at it. Next to Rigal, he was the most proficient student in the arts of combat. He charged the King, swinging his sword at Kerrion's legs, and Kerrion realised that he was going to try to humiliate him with it. Being struck with the flat of a sword was painful, and would leave bruises, but if Kerrion accused his brother of attacking him with a weapon when he was unarmed, the bruises would prove that Trelath had not intended to kill him.

  Trelath would insist that the King had also been armed, and there were no witnesses to refute this. Although the courts tended to lend more weight to the King's words, the fact that he had a grudge against Trelath would work against him. The judges would assume, quite rightly, that he had sought to avenge his wife's kidnapping, but were unlikely to believe that he had entered the fray unarmed. Since Trelath had every right to defend himself against an armed attack, and could even claim that Kerrion had tried to kill him, he could turn the situation to his advantage and accuse the King of treason. The only way out of the situation was to summon witnesses.

  Kerrion turned his head and bellowed, "Guards!"

  Trelath sheathed the weapon just before two guardsmen ran into the arena, his mouth twisting into a sneer. "Coward!"

  The guards halted beside the King and eyed the brothers, bowing. Kerrion glared at Trelath. "Remove your sword, Trelath."

  Unable to disobey in front of witnesses, the Prince unbuckled his sword belt and threw it down. Kerrion signalled to the soldiers to take it and leave, then walked closer to his half-brother.

  "Now we shall see who is the coward."

  Trelath dropped into a fighting crouch, his fists raised. Kerrion circled him, his eyes narrowed as he sought a weakness in the Prince's guard. While he had the advantage of experience, Trelath had youth on his side, being almost half the King's age. At twenty-six, the Prince was in his prime, fit and well trained. Kerrion lunged, but Trelath leapt aside, his punch missing as Kerrion ducked. Following him, the King landed a powerful blow on Trelath's ribs that made him grunt, but received one on his cheek in exchange.

  They circled, blocking blows and landing them, in a duel of skill and strength that soon had Kerrion sweating. At times they grappled, grunting and gasping as they pitted their strength against each other. Soon Kerrion's nose bled and one eye had started to swell. His ribs ached from the blows Trelath had landed. The Prince bled from his broken nose and split lip, and Kerrion's signet ring had opened a nasty gash in his cheek. Both had bloody knuckles and bruised arms, and Kerrion's head rang from the punches he had taken.

  Just as the King was starting to tire, Trelath miscalculated his brother's attack, and Kerrion hit him in the solar plexus. Trelath fell to his knees, groaning and gaping as he struggled for air, and Kerrion hit him on the back of the neck, hammering him to the floor. Trelath lay unmoving, robbed of his senses, and Kerrion stood over him, gasping. The King fought the urge to kick the unconscious Prince, his longing to hurt the man who had so mistreated Minna at war with his innate sense of fair play. Instead, he rolled Trelath onto his back and slapped his face until he came around. Kerrion gripped the Prince's hair and hauled him to his feet, then grasped his wrist and twisted his arm behind his back. Trelath grunted and grimaced as Kerrion marched him from the arena.

  Minna-Satu looked up when the doors of her lounge banged open and Kerrion entered, propelling a bloody and dishevelled Trelath before him. Her maidens fell to their knees, and Kerrion gestured for them to leave, closing the door behind them. The King halted the Prince in front of Minna and forced him to his knees with a savage thrust. Trelath caught himself with his hands and tried to jump up, his face twisted with rage and hate. Kerrion punched him in the side of the head, sending him sprawling on the cushions. Trelath rolled over and sat up, glaring at his brother.

  "Trelath is here to apologise, Minna-Satu, and listen to whatever it is that you have to say to him," Kerrion stated.

  Trelath spat blood. "I would rather rot in Damnation that apologise to your Jashimari whore!"

  "You will rot in Damnation, of that I am certain."

  "Not before you do, you bastard."

  Kerrion punched the Prince again, and blood sprayed from his nose. "My wife is waiting for your apology, Trelath!"

  Trelath spat at Minna, who whipped her skirt out of the way in time. Kerrion took hold of Trelath's tunic, jerking him away. As the King drew back his fist, Minna cried, "Enough! My chambers are not a place for your brawl. If you have not finished your fracas, go and do it elsewhere."

  Kerrion growled and released Trelath, who glared at the Elder Queen. "I shall never apologise to you, slut! I enjoyed your humiliation, and I would have enjoyed killing you. I still may."

  "I am certain that you would have, Trelath," Minna murmured. "You are a man of no breeding, and unworthy of your title. I have met commoners who are more honourable than you will ever be. As for my humiliation, it is you who were belittled by my treatment. I was merely distressed by it."

  Trelath swore and jumped up. "I am not listening to your insults, trollop!"

  Kerrion knocked him down again and stood over him. "Yes, you are, Trelath. You are not going anywhere until Minna has said what she wishes, unless you go through me."

  "I would enjoy that, brother. Let me catch my breath first."

  Minna rose and walked away, disliking his proximity. "I have little else to say, in any case, Trelath. This is not my vengeance, that is still to come. This is only a prelude to it. Your father was such a man as you, which is why I ordered his death, and that is one decision I have not regretted. Some people are suited to the task of wielding power, others only abuse it. There are far worthier men than you living in squalor, which is where you belong."

  Trelath glared at her. "Whore!"

  "Your insults mean nothing to me. Such words only carry weight when spoken by one who has earned my respect, and whose opinion I value. A man like you lacks the intellect to think of a suitable response, and therefore resorts to insults. Just as your traitorous actions belittled you, so do your foul words demean you in the eyes of your betters."

  "You are not my better, harlot!"

&nbs
p; "I am the Elder Queen of Jashimari, and therefore superior to a Prince. Now you may leave."

  Trelath spluttered, opening his mouth to vent fresh insults, but Kerrion gripped his arm and spun him about, marching him from the room before he had the chance to loose his spleen. When he had pushed Trelath into the corridor and closed the door, he turned to find Minna standing beside him. She stroked his bruised cheek, her eyes filled with concern.

  "He hurt you. I did not think he would fight back."

  "I knew he would. He is an arrogant bastard. It is just a few bruises and a bloody nose. He is hurt worse than me."

  She smiled. "I am glad you won."

  "Naturally. It would have been rather humiliating if I had lost."

  Minna walked back to her cushions, sinking down on them. "Perhaps Blade should kill them both tonight. Otherwise Trelath will be warned by Chaymin's death, and that will make it more difficult for him."

  Kerrion dipped his handkerchief into the basin of water on a table by the wall and wiped the blood off his face. "Do you think he could? And if he did, would it have the same effect on the others?"

  "We should ask him, I suppose."

  Minna tugged the satin cord to summon her maidens and sent one to fetch the assassin, dismissing the rest, then patted the cushion beside her, inviting Kerrion to sit. He studied the blood on his handkerchief with a rueful smile.

  "No doubt Blade will find my wounds most amusing."

  She smiled, taking the handkerchief and wiping the last traces of blood from his face. "Most certainly he will."

  Minna had long since finished ministering to her husband, given him wine, and started to tap her fingers by the time Blade arrived, almost half a time-glass later. The assassin stopped before her and bowed.

  "My Queen."

  "My Lord. Why has it taken you so long to respond to my summons?"

  "I was in the garden. Your maiden had to search for me."

  "Ah." Minna nodded. "Sit."

  Blade selected a cushion nearby, and his eyes flicked over Kerrion, widening a fraction. For a moment his expression remained blank, then he grinned, revealing a rare flash of white teeth. He chuckled, his amusement transforming his face. Minna struggled to quell a smile, finding it impossible to compose her features in the presence of Blade's infectious glee. She glanced at Kerrion, relieved to find him in the same predicament.

  Forcing herself to don a stern expression, she berated him, "It is not polite to find the King's injuries amusing, My Lord."

  "I am not a man renowned for my manners, and rarely have I been so well entertained."

  "Trelath looks worse than I do, I assure you," Kerrion said.

  "Then he must be a sorry sight indeed."

  "He is."

  "Blade," Minna said, "I have requested your presence to ask you if it would be possible to assassinate Chaymin and Trelath tonight."

  His smile faded and his brows rose. "It is possible, but not preferable."

  "But you could do it?"

  "I would rather not."

  "Why?"

  The assassin spread his hands. "Killing one prince has its risks, two on the same night would double those risks by forcing me to work faster, thereby increasing the chance of mistakes."

  "You do not make mistakes, My Lord."

  "I have not, because I plan my kills carefully and execute them diligently, without haste."

  "But as soon as you assassinate Chaymin, Trelath will know he is in danger, and take precautions."

  Blade tilted his head. "Why must Chaymin be first? I could kill Trelath tonight and Chaymin tomorrow night. He will be an easier target, even forewarned."

  Minna glanced at Kerrion. "That seems reasonable."

  Kerrion shook his head. "Chaymin is a coward. As soon as he learns of Trelath's death, he will flee."

  "And Trelath will not?" Blade asked.

  "No. He will set an ambush for you, stay awake all night if necessary. He is a warrior, and he would want to kill you. He would have a dozen soldiers in his room to guard him."

  "I see." Blade looked thoughtful. "Yet you are certain he suspects nothing now? He knows Minna-Satu was rescued by a Jashimari assassin, and he has probably guessed it was me, so he must know I am here. If he is at all clever, he will expect Minna to send me to kill him. He knows I killed his father and four of his brothers."

  "That is true, Kerrion," Minna agreed. "Trelath is not a fool."

  "Far from it." The King frowned. "But if he does expect an assassination attempt, he will already have taken precautions. I have to admit, I had not considered this possibility."

  "Which makes it all the more inadvisable to attempt both assassinations on the same night," Blade pointed out.

  "If Trelath has taken measures to protect himself, it would be extremely dangerous to attempt to kill him at all." Minna frowned at the assassin. "I will not have you put in peril, My Lord. The rest of our plan depends upon your success. If you fail, so do we."

  Blade smiled. "I do not fail. It will just be more difficult, but I will find a way."

  "You may succeed, but be captured by Trelath's guards. Then you would be tortured until you confess the name of your employer."

  "That I will not do. Do you wish to annul the assassination?"

  Minna looked at Kerrion, her expression doubtful, then turned back to the assassin. "Do you think you can succeed? Both in assassinating Trelath and escaping afterwards?"

  Blade rose and went over the table, where he picked up the bottle of wine and filled a goblet. "I will not attempt to assassinate the Prince in his bed chamber at night, when he will be surrounded by guards. If I can find a time when he is alone, or almost alone, I will succeed."

  "You killed Lerton even though he had guards in his room," Kerrion pointed out.

  "Yes, and I can do the same with Trelath if necessary. When I killed Lerton, my safety was not a great concern. I took a risk. If you wish to leave nothing to chance this time, it must be done more cautiously."

  "Indeed," Minna agreed. "I will not have you risk your life, My Lord."

  "I could arrange to get Trelath alone," Kerrion stated, looking thoughtful. "I was alone with him in the arena just a short time ago. All I have to do is order him to meet me somewhere."

  Blade shook his head. "Then suspicion will fall on you."

  "I could tell the courts that he was attacked by a Contara assassin, thereby throwing suspicion further afield. I would be a witness, and you could even injure me slightly, to make it believable."

  Blade's brows rose, and he smiled. "Tempting, but I think you would be a terrible liar. The judges would think you had killed him yourself."

  "Not if there was another witness, one who would have no reason to support me, like one of my brothers."

  "Who could also lie, and tell the courts that you killed Trelath."

  Kerrion growled and took a gulp of wine. "You think of everything, Blade."

  "It is my job. You must be seen elsewhere when your brother dies. I will choose the time and place, and I do not require your aid."

  "Very well. So you will kill Chaymin tonight?"

  The assassin nodded, putting down his empty goblet. "I must prepare." He bowed to Minna. "My Queen."

  She inclined her head. "My Lord."

  After he left, she turned to Kerrion. "It was foolish of me to suggest that he kill them both tonight."

  "Perhaps we expected too much, even of Blade."

  "I think he could have done it, but it would have been risky."

  The King nodded, a slight smile tugging at his lips. "And you will not risk him, I know."

  "No, I will not."

  Chapter Three

  Blade ate a light meal of grilled fowl and steamed cherid greens with sour cream sauce in his room, then lay down to relax for the rest of the day, gathering his energy for the night's endeavour. Since Prince Chaymin would be an easy target, he had decided to kill him as he had Targan. He pondered the problem of Trelath while he dozed, envisioning va
rious options that may be suitable, once he had established the Prince's habits. Kerrion's information indicated that Trelath kept no routine, but was an impulsive man prone to sudden urges that he tended to satisfy immediately. He was also a hothead, with a tendency to rush into situations without giving them much thought. The beginnings of a plan formed in Blade's mind, and he fell asleep as it took shape.

  Kerra disturbed Blade's slumber when she came in and curled up on the cot she had had installed on the far side of the room, at his insistence. She had wanted to place it next to his bed, but he had refused to entertain the notion, and she had conceded that she did not have to be quite so close to him. He listened to her soft breathing until he drifted off to sleep again.

  The assassin woke well after dark, and washed before donning his black leather clothes. With his daggers installed in their proper places, he rubbed some soot on his face, then slipped into the dimly lighted corridor. Guttering torches shed pools of light along the walls, and he flitted through them like a shadow, pausing in dark places to scan the area ahead before moving on. He knew the guard placements of the Cotti palace quite well, but still used caution, for unpredicted events were the bane of assassins.

  A guard's need to answer a call of Nature could be his undoing, if he assumed they would all be at their posts. The dog soldiers who patrolled the gardens were particularly dangerous, due to their familiars' keen noses. Even though he had washed off most of his scent, the dogs might still detect him. Stealth was his greatest ally, and he crept through the slumbering palace past snoring guards slumped at their posts, the royal abode's perceived safety lulling them into laxness. Doubtless there would be a sudden increase in the sentries' vigilance after tonight. According to Kerrion's notes, Chaymin lived in rooms quite far from his own, closer to the harem. Since dog soldiers patrolled the garden, Blade decided to use the assassin's highway, were there were less guards.

  Slipping out through an unguarded gate, he selected a rough wall and climbed it, slipping his fingers and boot-tips into nooks and crannies that offered slight purchase. By the time he reached the roof, his fingertips throbbed and his arms ached, and he paused to spy out the area before slipping over the edge. Areas of flat or slightly sloping roof bordered the palace's domes, and a path along which the guards patrolled ran around its perimeter.