The Queen's Blade V - Master of the Dance

by T C Southwell

  Blade's blood warmed as he spoke, and his heart swelled with the only pride that he had ever known, that of his prowess. Denied the simple pleasures of a normal man, he had excelled in the one thing he was good at, and that pride now bolstered his confidence, just as his words were designed to diminish Ice's.

  The Cotti assassin smirked, his eyes darting to the watching assassins. "I'm not afraid of you."

  "You're a fool if you think you can defeat the Queen's Blade in a Dance of Death. No one has been stupid enough to try that before." Blade grinned. "I'm going to cut you to pieces."

  Ice glanced around again, took two of Blade's daggers from an elder and walked over to hand them to the Jashimari assassin.

  "You know the rules, I presume."

  "Better than you, Cotti pup."

  Blade took the weapons and turned away as Ice collected his own from his elders. The rules were simple. You only had two daggers, and if you threw one and missed, you only had one. A thrown dagger could not be retrieved, so it was better to keep them in hand. The Dance was varied for the different types of assassins, who used their weapon of choice, except for poisoners, who fought empty-handed. Seldom had a duel been fought between two assassins who used different weapons, and then they both had to use daggers, or nothing. That was in the days before the Dance was outlawed. Ice handed his familiar to one of the elders and turned to face Blade again.

  "Where's your familiar?"

  "Killed by Shandor's soldiers, a crime for which he paid with his life."

  "Ah." Ice studied his daggers, fingering their edges. His apparent cheerfulness was a ruse, Blade knew. Beneath his smiling façade beat a heart of pure malevolence, one that enjoyed dealing out death and pain to hapless victims, and he hid his true nature behind a false grin. He embodied everything Blade hated about the Cotti; their arrogance, cruelty and indifference to the suffering of others.

  Blade's hands tightened on his daggers, and he tensed, his muscles thrumming with energy seeking explosive outlet. An electrical jolt went through him as Ice tapped his feet in the distinctive rhythm of the Dance of Death, beginning the duel. The rigid structure of the Dance did not apply to an armed duel, but many of the moves would be repeated in it, simply because they were so deadly.

  Blade moved towards his opponent, the danger heightening his senses. Ice circled, and, from the wary glint in his eyes, Blade knew his words had dented the Cotti's confidence, as he had intended. He stopped and waited for Ice to attack, since this put the Cotti at a disadvantage. Ice had no choice, however, if he wanted to kill Blade. Ice's feet clicked as he closed the gap in a whirling leap, his blade-tipped boots lashing out towards Blade's chest.

  Blade swayed back, allowing the razor edges to skim past his vest, then slashed with a dagger, opening a shallow cut in Ice's arm as the Cotti spun past. Ice landed with a clatter of metal-shod boots, and continued his spin, dropping to slash at Blade's legs, forcing him to spring into the air. Blade kicked as he leapt, his boot grazing Ice's cheek and cutting his ear when he jerked aside. As Blade landed, Ice leapt up and stabbed at him. Blade spun away and kicked his opponent, stabbing Ice in the shin. The Cotti grunted and staggered, then leapt high, one leg lashing out. The boot-blade skimmed past Blade's shoulder as he spun aside, opening a shallow cut.

  The assassins' boots clicked without rhythm as they danced the deadly duel, beating out a chilling tattoo of swift death. The moves were too quick for the eye to follow, a blur of flashing boot-blades and slashing daggers in a continuous dance of graceful, lethal motion.

  Ice whipped around, lashing out with boot and hand. His dagger ripped open Blade's vest and shed bright blood. Blade twisted aside and leapt, reaching the extraordinary height that made him such an excellent dancer, along with his peerless speed. His rising boot punched into Ice's chest, stabbing upwards into the pad of muscle. Ice grunted and jerked back, then lunged as Blade landed, aiming for his belly. Blade threw himself backwards to avoid the thrust, kicked upwards as he did so and stabbed Ice in the thigh.

  The Cotti growled, become frenzied in his pain and fury. Blade rolled away as Ice stabbed at him. The dagger skimmed his ribs and opened another gash. Blade slashed at Ice's neck as he rolled to his feet, but the Cotti flung himself sideways in the nick of time. Blade followed, whipped around and leapt, becoming a spinning dervish tipped with steel. Ice sprang away, but received another cut across his chest, then he lunged in as Blade landed, stabbing at his neck.

  Blade threw up an arm, his only option, and the dagger impaled his forearm to the hilt. He grunted and jerked free, blood oozing from the wound and his hand losing its strength. Ice grinned and lunged again, but Blade jumped back and leapt, raising his stiffened legs in the foot-crossing move he had invented, but had never tried in combat. His feet clashed together in a shower of sparks, and his rising boot impaled Ice in the cheek.

  The Cotti assassin screamed and jumped back, dropping an instant before Blade's boot-blade would have pierced his gut as Blade landed on one leg and lashed out with the other. As Ice dropped, he stabbed upwards, driving a dagger into Blade's thigh. The Jashimari assassin jerked his leg down, hitting Ice on the side of the head with his heel. Ice fell, then rolled away as Blade went after him, regaining his feet an instant before Blade kicked him again, stabbing him in the calf.

  Both fighters dripped blood, their vests soaked with it. Crimson trickles ran down their legs and arms, and Ice's neck. Most of the duels fought before the Dance was banned ended when one fighter died from blood loss, and sometimes the victor succumbed too. No combat was more vicious, fast and bloody than a duel between assassins. There was no respite, no moment of inaction when they could catch their breath. From the moment the duel started, the men were a whirling blur of flashing blades until one died.

  Their feet clattered and their gasping breaths rasped in the silent chamber. They gleamed with sweat and blood. As yet neither had slowed one iota, and the speed of the fight made it difficult to follow. Blade's feet blurred as he floated sideways, using the quick, foot-crossing move that looked so graceful in the Dance but had other, more sinister origins. He kicked out as his opponent lunged at him, then spun away when Ice whipped around and tried to stab him in the back. His move brought him closer to the Cotti, and he slashed with both daggers, inflicting wounds in Ice's arm and chest before he sprang away.

  Ice followed, leapt high and kicked with a flashing boot-blade, stabbing Blade in the biceps of his injured arm. He spun away, using his momentum to whip around as he leapt. His boot-blade slashed across Ice's arm, severing the muscle. Ice staggered back with a growl, his eyes widening at the sight of the blood pouring from his arm. Blade followed, his mind as cold and clear as frozen crystal, his need to survive blocking the pain of his injuries.

  Blade's injured arm sent shafts of agony through him every time he used it, but necessity precluded any favouring of the injured limb, without which he would be greatly hampered. Ice's crippled arm hung at his side, and he swung to face his opponent, his eyes bright with pain and fury. Blood ran down Blade's injured arm and dripped from his fingers. It sprayed each time he lashed out with it, speckling his opponent's face. Their feet rattled across the floor as Ice lunged at Blade, who leapt aside and slashed at his opponent's neck, opening a shallow wound but missing the artery. Blade's feet skidded, and he realised that the floor was now slick with blood.

  Ice leapt in and lashed out with a blade-tipped boot that opened another gash across Blade's chest as he jumped back. Blade lunged as Ice landed, stabbing him in the flank when Ice twisted aside to avoid the thrust that was aimed at his heart. Ice stabbed Blade as he did so, impaling him through the muscle on the top of his shoulder when Blade dropped to avoid the blow. Blade kicked him in the shin again, inflicting another wound. Ice jumped back, his razor-tipped boot skimming past Blade's cheek.

  The Jashimari assassin jerked away, ignoring the sting of the wound as he slashed with both daggers, one cutting Ice's belly. Ice jumped backwards and slipped in the
blood, making the first error of the duel. Blade stabbed him in the flank, missing his belly only because he dropped an instant too soon. Ice rolled to his feet, gasping, and leapt back again as Blade lunged after him, slashing Ice's thigh.

  Ice stabbed Blade in the upper arm, then jabbed his elbow into the Jashimari assassin's gut, momentarily winding him. He dropped as Ice swung at his head in a move designed to open his throat, rolling away when the Cotti aimed a kick at his back. He leapt to his feet, stars dancing in his eyes. He ducked another slash and leapt, his stiffened legs scissoring in the deadly high leap that brought his feet to head height. Ice screamed as the bladed boot ripped open his cheek. Blood sprayed from the wound as he spun away, the gaping cut exposing his teeth.

  Ice dropped and lunged, his daggers aimed at Blade's belly, but the speed with which Blade spun aside thwarted him, and he stabbed Ice in the back as he went past. Ice spun to face his opponent again, staggering a little as blood loss sapped his strength. He threw a dagger, which thudded into Blade's shoulder just above his lung. Blade ignored the protruding hilt and jumped closer before leaping high again. His scissoring legs clashed in a shower of sparks, and his rising boot opened a gash in Ice's chest. Ice staggered back, raising his empty hand to clasp the wound, his chest red with blood.

  Blade paused, eyeing his opponent, whom he knew was defeated. He swallowed with difficulty and gasped, "Only a fool... would think he... could defeat... the Queen's Blade."

  Ice snarled and charged, spun and leapt in a last effort to slash Blade's throat. Blade dropped, allowing Ice's feet to pass over his head, then lunged, stabbing him in the belly as he landed. Ice growled and stabbed at Blade's chest, impaling his arm when he flung it up. Blade jerked free and spun away, and Ice flung his last dagger. It glanced off the side of Blade's head, opening a gash above his ear. Blade snarled and flung a dagger, which struck Ice in the chest, just missing his heart. Ice coughed, blood oozing from his lips, and staggered towards his opponent, trying to grab him.

  Blade twisted away from the Cotti's grasping hands, his clothes and skin slippery with blood. Ice kicked him in the shin as he jumped back, and Blade spun, his arm whipping out. The dagger sliced through Ice's throat. Blade stepped back as Ice fell to his knees, his hands clamped to his neck and his eyes wide with surprise. He mouthed silent words, then his eyes glazed and he keeled over.

  Blade stared down at him, his dagger poised and his muscles thrumming with adrenalin. Only his harsh breathing broke the silence that followed the Cotti's collapse. He turned to face the elders, his metal-shod feet scraping on the bloody stone. They stared at him as if unable to believe their Master of the Dance was dead, slain by the Jashimari assassin he had been paid to kill. Blade glanced around at the gore that covered the floor and spotted the walls in little spray patterns. It looked as if a dozen beasts had been slaughtered in the room, and the thought that a lot of it was his was frightening. It dripped from his hands and trickled down his legs in warm streams, joining the pools on the floor.

  The strength drained out of him, and he fell to his knees, shaking with shock and blood loss. His dry throat burnt and his chest was cold from the chill air he had sucked in during the fight, but the pain of his wounds was a dull, faraway sensation. Becoming aware that Ice's dagger still protruded from his chest, he pulled it out and flung it away, sending it clattering into the darkness. The assassins who stood around the walls came to life, shifting and whispering. After a brief, heated debate, the words of which Blade could not discern through the roaring in his ears, a grizzled old man stepped forward.

  "You've won, Jashimari. Savour your victory in the little time you have left before you die. We will tell Dravis that Ice failed, but also of your whereabouts, so he can finish you, if you last long enough."

  Blade glared at the elder as he turned away, his throat too dry and raw to speak. Four younger men came forward to pick up Ice's body, and the assassins filed out, taking most of the torches with them, leaving the room in semi darkness. In the silence that followed their departure, Blade listened to the hoarse sound of his gasping and took stock of his wounds. His arms bled profusely, as did his thigh and the scalp wound that was filling his ear with blood. He watched it drip into the crimson sea around him, then put away his daggers and pulled off the ripped vest.

  If he did not staunch the blood, he would die, and he also had to leave before Dravis arrived. He cut the leather vest into strips and used it to bind his arms, struggling to tie the knots with one hand and his teeth. One arm was virtually useless, but he forced it to work, gritting his teeth as pain shot from the cuts. He bound his thigh with the last of his vest, stopping the worst of the bleeding.

  Rising to his feet, he staggered over to his jacket, finding the rest of his daggers atop it. He returned them to their sheaths, using the last of the adrenalin that coursed through his veins to power his escape. If he waited, he would only get weaker. He pulled on the jacket, covering most of his wounds, then limped to the door and pushed it open. Outside, the moon set over a squalid back street in a strange part of the city.

  Hobbling into the alley, he staggered along it, not caring where he went, as long as it was away from the room where the fight had taken place. With each step his strength waned, and he knew he would not get far. Two streets away from the alley, he found a run-down livery stable and tottered into it. Glancing back, he checked to make sure he had not left a blood trail, but the street was clean. He reeled into the stable's warm darkness, where the soft wickers of its occupants greeted him.

  Groping along a row of stalls, he found a ladder that led to the hay loft and struggled up it, forcing his stiffening muscles to obey. He may still die of his wounds, but Dravis would not have the satisfaction of killing him. Determination made him climb the ladder's last few rungs, and he crawled into a sea of hay, found a hill and burrowed into it until he was buried. At last he was able to relax, the soft wheeze of his breath the only sound apart from the stamping of the horses below. A wave of darkness washed over him, taking with it the pain.

  Chapter Eight

  Minna sat back to allow a handmaiden to remove her empty breakfast plate, casting a frowning glance at Kerra's unoccupied seat at the table. Kerrion had left early on some urgent business, and she had been forced to eat alone, since Kerra had not joined her. Summoning a hovering maiden with a flick of her fingers, Minna sent the girl to fetch Kerra.

  A few minutes later, the maiden returned, looking flustered. Kerra was not in her rooms, and the maid could not find her. Thinking it odd that Kerra should stay abed until breakfast, since she was usually an early riser, Minna went to Blade's rooms in search of her. As soon as she entered the assassin's chambers, she knew something was amiss. A strange smell hung in the air, and it made the Elder Queen dizzy.

  Minna retreated, leaving the door open to allow a breeze to blow through, and sent a manservant in to find Kerra and Blade. He returned a short while later, with Kerra in his arms. Minna gave a cry of distress and took hold of her daughter's hand, clinging to it as the servant bore Kerra to her rooms and placed her on her bed. She sent a maiden to summon Kerrion and a healer, and the elderly Cotti bent over the girl with a grimace, sniffing her hair.

  "She has been drugged. It's a gas used by healers who cut open their patients. It makes them sleep. She'll be all right in a few time-glasses."

  Minna turned to Kerrion with a frown. "Why drug her and leave her there, unharmed?" She raised a hand to her mouth. "Unless Kerra was not the target. Where is Blade?"

  The Queen trotted after Kerrion to Blade's rooms, where the gas still lingered. Kerrion made Minna wait in the corridor while he dashed in, holding his breath. When he came out, he shook his head, his expression grave.

  "He is gone."

  "Someone has taken him. We must search the city at once. We must find him."

  He nodded, taking her hands. "We will. But it is a big city, my love, and he could be anywhere."

  "Call in all your spies, and offer a reward
for information. That is how I found him last time."

  "Last time?"

  "Yes, he was kidnapped by the lords who tried to have you assassinated. My men found him tied up in a cellar."

  Kerrion's grip on her hands tightened. "He may already be dead."

  "No!" She jerked free. "He is alive."

  "Minna..."

  "We must find him! Why take him, if they only wanted to kill him? They must plan to torture him into revealing his employer, and we must find him before they realise that it is futile. He will lie, and frustrate them for as long as he can. We must rescue him!"

  He nodded. "I shall do my best, calm down. I want him back in one piece as much as you do, but perhaps not for exactly the same reasons."

  "I have made no secret of the fact that I care for him, but this is no time to get jealous."

  "I am not. I will send men into the city at once, I promise. You stay with Kerra and comfort her when she wakes."

  Kerrion strode away, leaving Minna gazing after him. As he marched to his study, he wondered how he was going to explain this to the captains he must send to find the assassin. Minna's reaction to Blade's loss reminded him of his frantic search for her, and he wondered just how deep her feelings for the assassin went. He sat at his desk and summoned Jadar, who arrived swiftly and bowed.

  Kerrion steepled his fingers and frowned. "Jadar, I have a task of great urgency for you. I want you to send runners out to all my spies in the city. Tell them I wish to know the whereabouts of a Jashimari man. He is my wife's courtier, a lord who is visiting her.

  "He was abducted from his rooms last night, and it is very important that he is found before he comes to any harm, you understand? He is an important man, the Regent's husband and Lord Protector of Jashimari. If he is killed, it will sour relations between the kingdoms."