The Queen's Blade II - Sacrifice

by T C Southwell

  Chiana looked hopeful. "Then it was a ruse?"

  "No. I stand by my promises."

  Chiana slumped, turning away. "How long do we have?"

  "Four days, according to my officers. Kerrion will arrive a day before the Contara. I have made certain of that by impeding him little and throwing the bulk of my forces against the Contara advance. I have already instructed my officers. The city will not fight. It would be futile, in any case.

  "We may hold them off for several days, but in the end Jondar will fall. This way fewer will die. As soon as Kerrion arrives at the gates, they will be opened to him, and I shall take the Cup. When he sets foot within this palace his daughter will be Queen and you Regent. You must be strong, and accept Blade's death as he does. Make the most of these last days, so their memory can sustain you."

  "I will commission an artist to paint his likeness."

  "A good idea, though I doubt that he will sit still for it."

  Chiana sipped her wine. "I will not watch him die."

  "Of course not. Dying is a private thing, only the Queen's daughter may sit with her while she takes the Cup and slips into oblivion. Since mine is too young to comfort me, Blade shall be my companion. You will be elsewhere with the Princess."

  "Then he will die alone."

  "We will drink together, I think. If he chooses to outlive me, then yes, he will be alone, but I think he may prefer it that way. He has been alone for most of his life."

  "Are you not afraid, My Queen?"

  Minna shivered. "Sometimes I am, but the Everlasting is not to be feared, I am told."

  "But you are so young."

  "It cannot be helped. I must save my people."

  "How can you be so certain that Shamsara is right?"

  Minna put down her cup and sank onto a pile of cushions. "Shall I tell you what he said that day? It is much more than I have told anyone, and it has all come true so far."

  Chiana nodded, and the Queen went on, "He told me 'a man will come to you, but you will not know him. He will carry a burden of hatred and his hands will be stained with blood. He is the key that will unlock the future, and he alone can change it. He can overthrow the Cotti throne and bring you the father of your child. When you have found him, do not let him go'."

  Minna smiled, her eyes distant. "When Blade first came here, I did not know him. I thought this man of whom Shamsara spoke would be a great warrior, one of my officers perhaps. I never thought it could be an assassin, a trade despised and hated by all. Then Shamsara said 'You will love him, but he will love no one, yet he will be beside you when you make your sacrifice'. So you see, I know that peace will be won between Jashimari and Cotti, for he was right about Blade."

  "You love him too?"

  The Queen looked shy, and pleated the shimmering silk of her skirt. "Almost from the moment I first laid eyes upon him."

  "But what of Kerrion?"

  "It is possible to love two men, and in different ways. It is difficult to explain. One was unattainable, the other within reach. Also, I had no choice in the matter, if the prophecy was to be fulfilled."

  "What would you have done, had he struck you?"

  Minna giggled. "I would have smacked him back, and been angry. I am glad you stopped him."

  Chiana looked away, grief darkening her eyes. "He knows what he is, and that brings him the most pain of all."

  "What do you mean?"

  "He calls himself 'the instrument'. He hates himself for putting all this into motion and bringing about his own doom. He says that the fate of the instrument is the most terrible of all. Did Shamsara say what would happen to him in the end?"

  "No." Minna looked pensive. "He did not. But his end will be painless like mine, and that is not so terrible."

  The next day, Chiana went to Blade's rooms armed with a pencil and paper. She found him sitting by the window, reading a book in the sunshine. He shot her an irritated glance when she settled on a nearby chair and started to draw. He seemed calm, but his mood remained sour, and he contrived to ignore her. After a while, however, he started watching her, then demanded to know what she was drawing.

  She glanced past him. "I am drawing Inka."

  "Inka?"

  "My familiar. She sits on the window ledge."

  Blade turned to look at the dove, who sunned herself, one wing fanned. He snorted. "So why do you have to do it here?"

  Chiana shrugged, taking advantage of his attention to sketch his eyes. "I thought to keep you company."

  "Do I look like I need company?"

  "Yes, you do."

  "I prefer to read alone. Your scribbling distracts me."

  She sighed and put away the paper, rising to her feet. "Very well, then I shall leave you to your solitude."

  "Good." He looked down at the book again.

  Chiana turned in the doorway. "My Lord, you are no longer required to guard the Princess, am I right?"

  "Yes, why?"

  "Perhaps you will give some thought to my request."

  His eyes narrowed. "I shall think on it."

  Chiana left his rooms with a light heart and a new spring in her step, his promise filling her with happiness.

  With only three days remaining until the Cotti army reached the city, tension rose amongst its people. Many turned to drink to try to forget their impending doom, others took religion and flogged themselves publicly, seeking redemption before the end. The whorehouses did a roaring trade as soldiers and commoners alike sought pleasure to pass the time.

  Scholars rushed to finish their writings, artists slaved to perfect their last works, rich men buried their money and performers gave their final acts. Yet so many people filled the city that even with all the faithful crammed into the temples, all the drunkards packed into the taverns and all the pleasure seekers jammed into the whorehouses, the streets still thronged with those who chose to do none of these things. The atmosphere resembled a frenzied carnival attended by people who counted the remainder of their lives in days.

  The temples flew dream silks of black, grey and red, signifying the death to come and tainting people's dreams with horrors that drove them to seek the priests' redemption. Only a single strip of green mingled with the ghastly colours to signify the Tree Moon, but that waned. Before the enemy reached the city the Death Moon would appear, an evil portent to all.

  The Queen's announcement gave few hope. Most did not believe that the Cotti king would spare the city, and even those who did thought that the Contara would invade anyway. The Death Moon's advent foretold blood and defeat, and the waning Tree Moon changed its face slowly, even now. Fierce arguments about the outcome caused many broken heads and bloodied noses. Long-standing feuds were settled with fists and swords. Like a giant, doomed monster, the city turned on itself in an orgy of self-destruction, and much blood flowed before the invading armies reached its gates.

  In the palace gardens, Blade danced until his lung burnt and the sweat poured off him, then sat in the shade of a brilliant red firetree and wrote his memoirs, wondering if anyone would ever read them.

  Chiana longed for her husband's company while she watched his likeness form on a canvas under an artist's skilled brush strokes.

  Queen Minna-Satu sang to her daughter and wandered through the gardens with the Princess in her arms, taking comfort from the promises of the High Priestess, who described the glories of the Everlasting in sonorous tones.

  Jayon honed his sword and swore to go down fighting, despite the Queen's decree, and spent most of his time in the training yard, pitting his skills against like-minded comrades.

  King Kerrion rode at the head of his army, his heart heavy. The lack of resistance from Jashimari forces delighted him, but puzzled and angered his officers, who saw it as an affront. Kerrion's orders prevented his troops from looting the towns they passed through, which caused much discontent.

  At the last meeting, held two days prior in his tent, his advisors had begged him to allow a little pillaging to keep the men
happy, but Kerrion remained firm.

  "One does not rape the woman one intends to marry," he stated, causing much confusion amongst the advisors, many of whom would have done just that. "We have been hammering on her door for centuries, and at last she has let us in. We must woo her gently and win her love so the marriage will be a happy one and she will not slip a knife between our ribs when we sleep."

  An elder advisor shook his head. "Sire, we are not marrying the Jashimari, we are conquering them."

  "And so we shall, but consider, had it not been for the Contara invasion, we would still be at the border."

  "We are most grateful to your brother's foresight, of course."

  Kerrion glowered at the luckless man, who shrank from the King's ire. "His stupidity! Thanks to him we will inherit a land half of which has been looted and laid to waste, its people butchered and livestock slaughtered. Half of Jashimari's wealth has been stolen from us, and you think him clever?"

  "But you just said..."

  "I meant that we have gained victory through Jashimari's misfortune, not our might. We must realise that she is too great a kingdom to have fallen without treachery and betrayal. Although we have gained by it, I shall not take advantage of it, nor will I allow Jashimari to be despoiled through my brother's stupidity."

  "If you put it like that..." the advisor muttered.

  "I do, for that is how it is. Jashimari is mine. The Cotti have not fought all these centuries to be cuckolded now."

  The advisors smiled at the King's patriotic zeal, something he had been careful to show a great deal of since his coronation. Already it had paid handsomely in gaining the loyalty of his lords and officers, all of whom now swore their oaths upon his honour. Even his brothers' back-stabbing could not sway hearts so firmly won by his triumphant invasion of Jashimari.

  "And we will not stop with Jashimari," Kerrion added. "Since our army has hardly fought, we will conquer Contara as well."

  The advisors greeted this announcement with great enthusiasm, praised his boldness and compared his courage to that of his father, which did not please Kerrion. After they left, his hand crept to a tiny bottle nestled against his chest, and he caressed it, reassured by its presence.

  Chiana lay awake in breathless expectation of her husband's company, only to find herself alone in the dawn's cool light. She wept until it was time to rise, then attended to her morning duties before seeking Blade in the early afternoon. That was when she discovered that he had gone into the city with Jayon and Lirek, doubtless to find a good taproom. Minna did not comment on her exhausted state, but gave her fewer chores than usual. By nightfall her weariness, compounded by sorrow, forced her to bed early, and she fell into a deep sleep.

  Chiana woke with a hand clamped over her mouth, and drew breath to scream, but could not. A soft chuckle in the darkness made her search it for the perpetrator of this outrage, and she made out the shadowed face of her husband beside her. A gush of joy shot through her with an electric thrill, and she relaxed with a sigh.

  Blade removed his hand and smiled in his sweet, heart-breaking manner that brought tears to her eyes. A moment later she gasped as the smooth coldness of steel touched the skin of her ribcage on the left side. Blade lay beside her, his legs stretched out over the blankets that covered her, and she smelt stale liquor on his breath. He chuckled again.

  "So, my lady, how does it feel to wake up with an assassin's dagger pressed to your ribs? Does it thrill you? Are you afraid?"

  "I am not afraid of you."

  "Aren't you?" He brushed the tip of the dagger against her skin again. "Perhaps you should be." He lay propped on one elbow, the dagger in his left hand. "This is how I kill my victims, did you know that? Just here." He pressed the dagger against her skin, making her shiver. "Between these two ribs. All I have to do is push, and you would be dead in about ten seconds."

  "You would not harm me."

  "Why not?"

  "You swore it."

  He grinned in the darkness. "I didn't swear it, my lady, and as you know, I'm a good liar."

  Her tears spilt over and ran down her cheeks. "Do it then, if you wish."

  Blade leant closer, swaying a little, and she realised that he was extremely drunk. "Isn't this what you wanted? To wake up in the arms of your assassin husband? To lie with the deadliest man in Jashimari and feel safe? Do you know how many harlots told me that, and tried to lure me into their beds for the thrill of lying in my arms?"

  He gave a bitter laugh. "Little did they know that death was all I could offer them."

  He moved the dagger to her throat, its chill making her shiver again. "Or I could do it like this, slower and messier by far. Do you know that your blood would spurt forth in fountains? This whole bed would be soaked in it." He grinned. "And I doubt the Queen would even be angry with me. What's wrong with her? Why does she treat me so well?"

  "She loves you."

  "Pah! Love! Another name for lust, that's all it is. An emotion wasted on me." He stroked the dagger across her skin, its tip creeping down onto her breast. "Now here's a classical cut, between the ribs and into the heart. Almost as good as my speciality, but definitely messier, and more room for error.

  "An assassin must know exactly where the heart is, you know. Some fools stab at the breastbone, which does them no good at all, for the heart is here, on the left side. That was part of my training, you see. My teacher purchased the body of an old man from his destitute widow, and we cut it open to see exactly where everything is. Very interesting."

  "Blade..."

  "Be quiet. Did you know that when you pierce the heart, it bursts? But you must have a sharp dagger and your stab must be true. My first victim almost killed me because I missed his heart. I had to stab him three times before he died. Many assassins die on their first kill, but I was lucky. So what will it be, my lady?" The dagger crept to her ribs again, pricking her skin. "Quick and clean, I'll wager."

  "Stop this."

  "Why? Are you frightened of me? Isn't this what you wanted? You long for my arms, don't you know the dagger is part of the deal? All those who have known my embrace are dead. They too longed for it. They too wished me in their beds. And they got me.

  "I thought you were different, but you're not, are you? You're not pure and virtuous, you want a man just like any common slut. Perhaps I should invite the guards in to satisfy you."

  Chiana's hand cracked across his cheek, and he recoiled with a yelp of surprise. She sprang away, seeking to quit the bed and his proximity, but he grabbed her and thrust her back, straddling her. Yanking the sheets down to her waist, he gripped the neck of her nightdress. "You wanted me here, so here I am. Isn't this what you wanted to show me?"

  The dagger flashed and she gave a whimper of terror, thinking her throat was cut, but the weapon only slashed through her nightdress, cutting it open from neck to waist.

  "Didn't you want to bare your wantonness to me?" Blade snarled, his eyes glittering with rage. "Did you think, like so many others, that you could rouse some spark of passion in me? The sight of you fills me with revulsion!"

  "No!" Chiana gripped his wrist. "I only wanted to be close to you, nothing more. Please stop this."

  Blade jerked free and pressed the dagger to her throat again, laying it against the throbbing artery just under her jawline. "You're just like any common whore, and many ladies too, who have invited me into their beds. They wanted this!"

  He tugged open his collar, revealing his tattoo. "Though in public they scorn me, secretly they find my trade exciting." He leant forward, thrusting his face close to hers, and stroked her cheek with the dagger. "They wanted to lie with a killer. They don't see that my cheeks are as smooth as theirs, but you knew and still you asked me."

  "Because I love you. I do not care what you are, I love you for yourself." She burst into tears.

  Blade straightened, staring at her, then flicked the dagger across the room, embedding it in the door with a dull thud. "Weep, why don't you? Tears will s
olve everything. They certainly don't move me. Love!" He spat the word. "It does not exist." He pulled the sheet over her and started to climb off the bed.

  Chiana grabbed his wrist. "Wait, do not go. Stay a while and talk to me."

  He jerked free. "Now it's talk, is it? Why would I want to stay?"

  "Because I asked you to?"

  "Even after this?"

  She gulped, nodding. "I want to understand you."

  "It's very simple, my lady. I hate this world and all in it, including you."

  "But you were not always so. You knew how to love once, when you had a family."

  "Yes," he growled. "And then I discovered hate, and found it a far better emotion. Love weakens, but hatred makes you strong."

  "Maybe so, but love brings happiness and hatred brings sorrow."

  He seemed to find her words amusing, or perhaps naive, for his scowl smoothed and a reluctant smile tugged at his lips. Instead of leaving, as she dreaded, he stepped closer. "I'd rather be sad and strong than weak and happy. But what you say is not always true. Love can bring great sorrow, and it also breeds hatred.

  "I learnt to hate from watching the ones I loved tortured and slain, not only because of what was done to me. I swore that I would never again feel that pain, never care for anything that may die. So I fed my hatred, and it has kept me safe ever since."

  "Did you ever stop to wonder why all those women wanted to share their beds with you?"

  "I've told you why."

  She sat up, holding the sheet. "No, you are wrong. It is your beauty that drew them to you."

  The assassin chuckled. "You think so?"

  "I know it. You have a rare kind of beauty, one that no ordinary man possesses. It shines from within you like a beacon for those who have eyes to see it. People are drawn to you, and your smile has the power to enchant souls.