The Queen's Blade II - Sacrifice

by T C Southwell

  "How do I know that is the truth?" she demanded, desperate for it to be one of his many lies.

  Blade smiled, a hard, bitter expression, and rolled up one sleeve. "Here is his mark."

  Four thin white lines ran down his arm, each a finger's length. Chiana nodded, and he pulled his sleeve down again. The scars were clearly the claw marks of a wood cat, placed there by Blade's long-dead familiar just as every beast marked the person to whom they were bonded with a small scar. Chiana's was on the side of her neck, where Inka had pecked her one day, leaving a tiny mark. She heaved a shuddering sigh and met his gaze.

  "I am sorry."

  The assassin nodded, then swung away and marched down the corridor again. Realising that the sounds of the battle had ceased, Chiana hurried after him.

  A great many soldiers lay sprawled outside the Queen's doors. Some lay still in pools of blood, others groaned and moved feebly. Their familiars lay dead amongst them or huddled beside their friends' bodies, while unharmed men lay still beside their dead familiars. A handful stood with hanging heads, disarmed and wounded.

  Chiana averted her gaze from the dead and dying, surprised when Blade did the same, his complexion paler than usual. The Queen's men placed shackles on the prisoners and carried the wounded away to be tended by a healer. Jayon stood amongst the prisoners, the lock of hair that was forever flopping over his forehead hiding his downcast eyes. Chiana longed to go to him and offer him some words of comfort. Before she could, the prisoners were marched away, and she approached Captain Redgard instead.

  "Is the Queen safe?"

  He bowed. "Yes, my lady, none entered her rooms."

  "What is to be done with those men?"

  "The Queen has ordered them imprisoned, to be released after she has taken the Cup."

  Chiana nodded. "How many were killed?"

  "As you see, most of them. They had taken bestal, a herb that gives great strength and courage, but makes them a little mad. Some of these killed each other in the heat of battle, others would not stop fighting until they were mortally wounded. A lot of soldiers take the herb before battle."

  Chiana shuddered, turning away. That explained the soldier's demented attack on her in the corridor. She looked around for Blade, but the assassin had vanished, and she went to his rooms in search of him. He was not there, nor in the gardens or any of his usual haunts. After a time-glass of fruitless searching, a wandering servant tipped her off, and she headed for the cellar. There she found Blade seated at a sturdy table with Lirek, both roaring drunk and singing a rollicking sea shanty. They stopped when she entered the room, and Lirek drained his tankard.

  Blade glared at her. "Is nowhere safe from you? Must you track me into the very bowels of this infernal place to preach to me?"

  "I did not come here to preach, only to talk."

  "Same thing, with you."

  Lirek burped and apologised, pouring another flagon of ale from the hogshead on the table. A guttering torch lighted the scene with a flickering radiance, and Fang slept in a corner. Chiana settled on the bench opposite them.

  "I would like to talk to you alone."

  Blade glanced at Lirek. "Then you'll have to wait until we're finished."

  Surprisingly, although the assassin swayed to the lullaby of ale, he spoke with complete clarity, while Lirek seemed to be almost incapable of speech. Chiana eyed the empty bottles and flagons that crowded the table.

  "What are you trying to do, drown yourself?"

  "Not a bad idea, but actually, we're making sure there's none left for Kerrion to celebrate with."

  She looked around at the echoing vastness of the Queen's cellar, a veritable warren of cool rooms stacked with barrels of ale, wine and spirits. "An army could stay drunk in here for six moons, Blade. You will not drain it in a few time-glasses."

  He chuckled. "We'll have a lot of fun trying, though."

  Lirek seemed to find this comment hilarious, for he guffawed and slapped the assassin on the back, almost falling off the bench. Blade grinned, drained his tankard and filled it again. Chiana watched him with a sinking heart. He obviously intended to drink himself into oblivion. She did not blame him, for he faced death tomorrow.

  No matter how painless, it was not something easily confronted, as she had seen from the Queen's sorrowful demeanour. Despite his claims of not fearing it, certainly his demise would not be in the manner he would have wished. Each faced it in their own way, and while the Queen wept and sought the comfort of the High Priestess, Blade enjoyed the solace that could be found at the bottom of an ale jug. Unfortunately, his retreat into wine-sodden forgetfulness made her wish for his company all but impossible.

  As she gazed at him, an idea came to her that made her smile to herself as her spirits lifted again. Rising, she walked over to one of the many shelves that lined the room and selected a dusty bottle, inspecting the label. It proved to be an elderly sherry, which had doubtless grown potent over the years. Returning to the table, she opened it and poured a little into a spare cup, using the rest to fill up Blade's and Lirek's tankards. The assassin eyed her as she raised her cup and shot him a cheerful grin.

  "Drink up, My Lord. This is a vintage far worthier of you. Let us be merry, for tomorrow you die."

  He scowled at her. "What are you up to now?"

  "Merely aiding you in your endeavour. Is that not a wife's purpose in life, to be her husband's helper?"

  Blade glanced at Lirek. "I've never heard of a wife who encouraged her husband to drink, have you?"

  Lirek shook his head and took a gulp of sherry. "She's a rare un, yer wife, m'lord. A real 'reasure."

  Blade turned his gaze upon Chiana again. "Indeed. Though it strikes me that she has a purpose other than she will admit. If you plan on drinking me under the table, my lady, you have a great deal of catching up to do." He squinted at the empty flagons. "I would say three flagons of ale and two bottles of wine."

  Chiana settled opposite and sipped her sherry. "I am afraid you have me at a disadvantage, My Lord. Perhaps we should call it a handicap, since you are a vastly experienced drinker, and I am not. Since you appear, at this moment, to be as sober as I, you may still win the duel. Though how you can contain so much liquid is beyond me."

  He chuckled, rising to his feet. "Then let us be fair. You cannot drink cups while I drink tankards."

  Blade walked over to the shelf and took another bottle of sherry, then found an empty tankard on the table and filled to the brim, setting it before her. "You will have to match me, tankard for tankard. No one has ever drunk me under the table, and I doubt that you'll be the first." He sat down beside Lirek again. "And if you find yourself over full, there's a pisspot in the corner."

  Chiana hid her dismay as she raised the tankard, and Blade drained half of his in a gulp. Lirek had almost finished his, and the assassin topped it up for him. The burly bodyguard related a barely intelligible account of some misfortune that had once befallen him. Chiana pretended interest, but Blade ignored him, concentrated on his drinking and watched Chiana to ensure that she did the same.

  Each time he went to fetch another bottle, however, she emptied her tankard onto the floor, and once when he went to use the pisspot. The strong sherry soon made her head spin, and Blade still showed no symptoms of drunkenness, although Lirek's conversation was now utterly incomprehensible. She was starting to despair when at last Lirek, on his way back from the pisspot, keeled over with a mighty crash. Fang went to lick his friend's face, then lay down beside him. Blade grinned and raised his tankard.

  "Well, my lady, you have beaten Lirek. Well done." He drained the vessel and refilled it and hers.

  Chiana forced a bright smile and took another gulp of sherry, staring owlishly at her husband. "How about a knife-throwing contest, Blade?"

  His brows shot up. "You can throw knives?"

  "My father taught me, for the lack of a son."

  "Poor man. Certainly, why not? Although I only have daggers, I'm afraid."

&nb
sp; "I meant daggers."

  Chiana got to her feet carefully, and Blade staggered a little, grabbing a shelf for support. He shook his head and walked into one of the vast aisles. At the far end, rows of barrels were stacked against the wall, and he pointed at them.

  "The one in the middle, I think, second row." He drew a dagger and held it out. "Ladies first."

  Chiana took the weapon and aimed, aware that her focus was not good and she swayed a little. Her first throw hit the edge of the barrel, and the assassin clapped, grinning. He walked to the barrels and retrieved the dagger, then took aim himself. His throw hit dead centre, as she had expected, and again he walked the length of the cellar to retrieve it. Her second throw was a little better than the first, halfway between the edge and the middle, but Blade's was again dead centre. Her third attempt went horribly wrong, and the dagger clattered behind the barrels, forcing Blade to crawl amongst them to retrieve it. When he returned, he smiled.

  "The best of three, shall we say?"

  Chiana nodded, and his throw hit dead centre for a third time. He grinned and retrieved the weapon while she tottered back to the bench. When he returned to sit opposite, he looked well pleased with himself.

  "I would say that I won, my lady."

  "Indeed you did. Was there any doubt?"

  He chuckled. "If you knew you would lose, why challenge me?"

  Chiana shrugged. "I am not as foolish as you think, My Lord. I know the effect of exercise on a drunkard."

  Blade's eyes narrowed. "I see. So it was not the dagger-throwing contest you wished to win, but the drinking one?" She nodded, and he chuckled again. "I have never passed out in my life, my lady."

  "There is a first time for everything, Blade."

  As if her words were a prediction, the assassin's smile faded and the colour drained from his face as his eyes rolled back. He slumped, then slid under the table, as lax as a length of wet rope. She smiled down at him.

  "Also, this is a particularly strong sherry, and I cheated."

  Chiana skipped from the cellar, then walked to Blade's rooms, mindful of her inebriation. Arken was building a fire in the grate, and he stopped and bowed at her entry.

  "My lady. Lord Conash is not here. I don't know where he is."

  She smiled. "You will find him passed out in the cellar, and Lirek as well. Will you have him brought here and put to bed?"

  "At once, my lady."

  Chiana went to her rooms and ate a light supper, then bathed and returned to her husband's chambers as dusk darkened the sky. Gazing down at his peaceful face, she marvelled at its innocence, then shucked her gown and slid in beside him. For many time-glasses she lay awake, listening to him breathe and the beating of his heart, enjoying his closeness this one time. She stroked his cheek and fought back the sorrow that threatened to engulf her, banishing any thoughts of the next day from her mind. As the moon rose to flood the room with ghostly light, she fell asleep nestled in the crook of his arm, her head pillowed on his shoulder.

  Blade woke with a start, becoming instantly aware that he was not alone. Turning his head, he found Chiana asleep beside him and quit the bed with a curse, groaning and clutching his head as the wine had its revenge. He glared at her as she sighed and snuggled deeper into the bedding without waking, then marched to the basin and splashed his face.

  "Damned scheming woman." He pulled on his clothes. "A drinking contest indeed. This was what she plotted." A reluctant smile tugged at his lips as he donned his jacket. "Very clever, Chiana, you won the battle, but not the war."

  As soon as he was dressed he left, closing the door behind him.

  Sunlight streaming in through the windows and birds carolling outside woke Chiana. Sitting up, she was dismayed to find herself alone, for she had planned to leave before Blade woke. She slid from the bed and donned her robe, hoping that no servants would be abroad to notice her unsuitable attire. Returning to her rooms unseen, she dressed and ate, then put aside her embarrassment and went in search of her husband. She found him in the garden, seated beneath a puffwood tree, writing. Blade squinted up at her with a frown, putting aside the small book. He looked a little paler than usual, undoubtedly his head pounded worse than hers. Mindless of her rich clothes, she knelt before him, smiling.

  "I suppose you are well pleased with yourself," he growled.

  "I am. Not only did I drink you under the table, but I got my wish too."

  "Such as it was. Is that truly all you wanted?"

  She shrugged. "I would rather you had not snored quite so much."

  "It did not keep you awake, I trust?"

  "Not at all."

  He glanced away. "As for drinking me under the table, you cheated."

  "How so?"

  "You did not traipse up and down the damned cellar to fetch the dagger."

  "Ah, but I outwitted you."

  Blade smiled, squinting across the garden. "Indeed you did. Had I not already been so drunk when you found me, I may have seen through your little plot, but you had me at a disadvantage from the outset."

  "You are not angry then?"

  "Not really. You won, though not fairly, a triumph nevertheless. I am not a bad loser, my lady." He sighed. "I have been angry this past tenday, but today is the end and I am resigned to my fate."

  "It is not too late to change your mind, Conash."

  He looked surprised by her use of his true name, and smiled again, sadly. "But it is, Chiana. Far too late."

  "You could hide amongst the handmaidens disguised as a woman."

  "Would you have me as a woman for the rest of my life? Once Kerrion rules this city, there will be nowhere to hide."

  "I will rule this city, not Kerrion. And even so, I would."

  Blade shook his head. "I am not so sure of that. The Queen's plan is a good one, but it may still fail. Princess Kerra may only ever rule as a proxy, with Kerrion holding the true power. Or worse, he may blackmail you by threatening to usurp his daughter unless I am given to him."

  "You think yourself so important?"

  "To the Cotti, yes. I assassinated their king and one of their princes, they will demand my death."

  "You were pardoned for Shandor's death."

  "But not for Lerton's. I abused that pardon when I assassinated the Prince, so they are entitled to revoke it now, and doubtless they will. Even if Kerrion holds no grudge, his people do. If there was a way to escape death I would take it. When peace comes, whether under Kerrion's rule or Kerra's, I would like to live out my days on my estate. My life was empty and meaningless before, worthless to me. Now I have a fine estate and riches, but I cannot enjoy them. Ironic, is it not?"

  "Then do not take the Cup." She leant forward, holding out her hands in a pleading gesture. "Try to escape, try to survive, please."

  He shook his head. "I will be caught and tortured. I may be many things, but when it comes to pain, I am a coward."

  "You risked capture and torture when you went to Kerrion's city, so you are not afraid of pain." She gazed at him. "You are afraid of being caught while running and hiding. It is your pride that causes this."

  Blade smiled, twisting her heart. "No, you are wrong. When I went to Kerrion's city I was disguised, then pardoned, then gone. There was a small risk of being caught, but now it is a certainty. It may shame you to be wed to a man who is afraid of pain, but it is true."

  She looked away. "I am not ashamed of you. How could I be?"

  "I am an assassin, a commoner risen to the rank of lord through my bloody deeds. Many would not be proud to have such a man for a husband."

  "Well I am. You are the Lord Protector of -"

  He held up a hand. "Please, do not recite all my titles to me. They are meaningless, empty words to describe a man who is nothing more than an assassin, never has been, never will be."

  "You are the Master of the Dance."

  Blade nodded. "I am that. At least I earned that title, though I cannot defend it."

  Chiana blinked as tears stung her
eyes, longing to hold and comfort him. His sorrow cut her to her soul. She looked up in surprise as he rose to his feet, and followed suit. He held out the book in which he had been writing.

  "Here, take it. It contains my memoirs, such as they are. Perhaps you will find some interest in reading them one day. I wish to be alone now. Do not seek me out again."

  Blade walked away into the garden without a backward glance. Chiana gazed after him, longing to run to him and beg him to reconsider, to somehow save him from the fate that awaited him today. She clutched the book to her breast, ridiculously happy that he had given her such a precious gift, and grateful for it. It contained his thoughts and memories, written in his hand, something of him for her to treasure.

  Chapter Ten

  Chiana found Queen Minna-Satu in a similar mood. Sad but resigned, her tearfulness over and her courage taken hold. She wore the simple white gown that Jashimari Queens died in, decorated with silver lace and studded with pearls around the collar and waist. Her hair hung loose down her back, strands of white spring flowers twisted into it, and her feet were bare. She smiled at Chiana, the spots of colour that brightened her pale cheeks belying her calm mood.

  "Barely more than a year ago, I watched my mother dress like this."

  "Your courage would have made her proud," Chiana murmured, not knowing what to say.

  "She would have called me a fool. She is probably cursing me from her grave. My mother never wanted peace with the Cotti."

  Chiana looked away, biting her lip.

  "Chiana, swear to me that you will look after Kerra," Minna burst out.

  "Of course I will. As if she was my own, I swear it. Nothing and no one will ever harm her."

  Minna nodded, gazing at the cradle in which her daughter lay. "Tell her of me when she is grown."

  "I will, My Queen. But surely it is not yet time?"

  "Not yet, but soon. I only await the news that Kerrion's army has been sighted. The sound of the horns will be my signal." She waved the handmaidens away, some of whom wept. "Have you made peace with Blade?"