The Queen's Blade VI - Lord Protector

by T C Southwell

  Rivan ran towards him again, attacked one of the men and forced him to release Blade in order to draw his sword. Four men still held the assassin, twisting his arms behind his back. Rivan's danger thrummed through Blade's blood like fire, and his stomach clenched with anguish as he strived to free himself so he could protect the cat. Any hope of escape was gone, and he realised that the cat's presence only put him in danger. Rivan could not free him from so many men.

  "Go!" Blade shouted, reinforcing it with a mental command that made the cat flatten his ears.

  Rivan hesitated, glancing at Blade with luminous golden eyes that glowed with rage and fear. The assassin jerked his head, commanding the cat again, and Rivan leapt past the soldiers as they lunged at him and clawed his way up the inn's wall. The soldiers lost interest in the cat and closed in on Blade, muttering curses and clearly intent on avenging their wounds.

  A curt command stopped them, and they parted to allow a mounted officer through their ranks. Evidently the ruckus around Blade had drawn the officer, for the rest of the villagers were being herded from their houses and the inn. The officer studied him, meeting his eyes without flinching, although a muscle jumped in his jaw. A hooked nose dominated his broad, handsome face, and black hair framed it.

  The man wore a haphazard collection of dirty livery and battered armour, and looked more like a brigand than a soldier. More alarming, however, was that he spoke with a Contaran accent, and was, in all likelihood, a mercenary. Many Contara soldiers had deserted after the Cotti invasion, and more formed rebel bands in the northern mountains. The officer raked the assassin with a hard glance, then jerked his chin at the soldiers.

  "Search him and bind him."

  The men confiscated the two daggers Blade carried, tied his hands behind his back and dragged him to his feet, shoving him towards the throng that stood before the inn. Everyone in the village had been rounded up, including the women and children. Blade eyed the mercenaries, wondering what they were going to do and why they were here. The officer guided his horse closer and studied the crowd.

  "We seek a man!" he shouted. "He's a stranger to you. He's an assassin, known as the Queen's Blade. Bring him forth, and no harm will come to you! Try to hide him, and we'll raze this village to the ground."

  Blade glanced at Daron, who looked away, but Jayda met Blade's eyes with a hard, challenging stare.

  Omall stepped forward. "What do you want with him?"

  The officer turned to scowl at him. "That's not your business. We know he's hiding in this village. Send him out, and we'll spare the rest of you."

  "We haven't seen the Queen's Blade. He lives in the palace with his wife, the Regent."

  "We know he's here. Hide him at your peril!"

  Omall shook his head, looking confused. "We're not hiding him. He's not here. Who says he is?"

  The officer drew his sword and urged his horse closer to the veteran, placing the tip of the weapon against Omall's chest. "You probably don't know who he is. You're just a bunch of ignorant peasants. Is there an assassin in this village?"

  Omall nodded, his eyes seeking Blade, who stepped back and sidled into the crowd. "There is one. His name is Claw. He can't be the Queen's Blade."

  "Why not?"

  "Because the Queen's Blade is the Lord Protector, and this man is just a common assassin."

  "Point him out, now!"

  Omall raised his arm to indicate a scrawny individual Blade recognised as a travelling tinker who had come to the village a tenday before. "That's him."

  The tinker gaped at Omall, then spluttered, "I'm not an assassin! I'm a tinker! You know me, I mend pots!"

  Omall averted his eyes, shaking his head. "That's him."

  "Bring him!" the officer shouted.

  Four soldiers shoved through the crowd and gripped the tinker's arms, marching him over to the officer, who scrutinised him. The tinker's black hair and grey eyes, together with his narrow, saturnine face and a scrawny build did endow him with a vague resemblance to Blade. If the description the soldiers had been given was a particularly bad one, they may be fooled into thinking the tinker was Blade, but not for long. The assassin edged further into the crowd, looking for possible escape routes. If nothing else, Omall's subterfuge might give him time to slip away.

  The tinker shouted protests, and the officer jerked his chin at the soldiers. "Show me his mark."

  This was where things would go wrong, Blade knew. He reached the back of the crowd, where several soldiers barred egress, and searched for an unguarded gap. At the front of the crowd, more shouts arose as the tinker's lack of a tattoo was discovered. The officer had dismounted and struck Omall, judging by the crack of fist on flesh.

  "Don't lie to me!" the officer bellowed. "Send him out now, or this man dies!"

  Someone gripped Blade's arm, and he turned to find Jayda glaring at him. "Will you let them murder Omall?" he demanded.

  "If Omall's ready to die to protect me, yes."

  "He will, to defend a lord. If you have a spine, you'll give yourself up to save him."

  "Then evidently I don't have a spine."

  Jayda's frown deepened. "You don't deserve to be saved by him. He's worth ten of you!"

  "As he's busy proving, right now."

  "Well I won't let him sacrifice himself for a damned assassin. I don't care if you're a bloody lord. He's my friend." Jayda's grip on Blade's arm tightened as he swung away, dragging the assassin. "Here he is!"

  Two soldiers jerked Blade's arm from Jayda's grip and hauled him out of the throng to face the irate officer. Omall knelt in the mud, clutching his jaw, and shot Jayda a glare.

  The officer loomed over Blade. "Are you the Queen's Blade?"

  "No. My name is Claw."

  The man tugged open Blade's collar, and his frown deepened. "You're an assassin."

  "Yes, but not the one you seek."

  "I have it on good authority that the Queen's Blade lives in this village, and as yet, I've only found one assassin. You."

  "Then you should keep looking," Blade recommended. "But your authority is wrong. The Queen's Blade is a high lord. What would he be doing living in a dirty village like this?"

  "I don't know, but you fit the description, and you're an assassin." The officer remounted his horse. "Bring him!"

  The soldiers led Blade to a horse and boosted him into the saddle before tying his hands to the pommel. The rest mounted, and the ragged company rode out of the village. The villagers watched them leave with a mixture of relief and anger, some shouting insults at the soldiers' backs in a show of cowardly bravado. Blade glared ahead, his stomach knotted. Whoever had sent these men to capture him was, in all likelihood, after his blood, and he wondered which of his many enemies had engineered his capture. Dravis seemed the most likely candidate, and he wondered what had become of the Cotti prince.

  Blade cursed, glancing at the young cat who followed like a shadow in the woods. He had lingered too long in the village to care for Rivan's sister when he should have left right after killing the bandits. Someone had betrayed him, perhaps the wandering minstrel who had visited the village two tendays ago, or the travelling rug merchant who had passed through a moon phase ago. Either that, or there was a spy amongst the villagers.

  Had it not been for the cats he would not have even come to this town, perilously close to the Contara border. Then again, he had not expected to be found, for who would suspect a lowly assassin in a shoddy village of being the Queen's Blade? Perhaps someone who had spies in the palace at Jondar, and knew he was not there. He wondered who Kerrion had sent to rule Contara after Endor's demise. Whoever he was, he had used the power Kerrion had given him to hunt Blade, and the assassin cursed the Cotti King.

  Kerrion glanced up as Jadar came in and approached his desk. The aged advisor held a scrap of paper, and the size of the missive told the Cotti King that a winged familiar had brought it. He put down the document he had been reading and leant back in his chair as Jadar straightened from his
bow.

  "What is it?"

  Jadar hesitated, glancing at the message. "This arrived today. It is from Prince Jovan."

  "Not another plea to return to Jadaya? Surely he has learnt the futility of such entreaties? He is banished. It is time he accepted it."

  "Of a sort, Sire. He claims to have captured the assassin known as the Queen's Blade, and threatens to execute him if he is not allowed to return to Jadaya."

  "Does he, indeed?" Kerrion clasped his hands and leant forward, frowning. "And if I agree, I will be admitting that I care about the fate of this assassin. He will use that as proof, and charge me with treason."

  "Undoubtedly, Sire."

  "Very clever, if I did care about this assassin. Perhaps a little too underhand for Jovan. You are certain it is from him?"

  Jadar glanced at the message again. "It is his signature."

  Kerrion held out his hand, and the advisor gave him the missive, which he studied with a frown. "It is, and it is his handwriting. But somehow, I doubt that this is his doing. What news of Dravis?"

  Jadar shook his head. "None, Sire."

  "Because he is not in Cotti." Kerrion rose and wandered over to the windows to frown at the pale, shimmering city beyond the palace walls. "He has followed Jovan to Contara, or perhaps Jovan offered him sanctuary there. Evidently it was a mistake to banish Jovan to Contara, much as he dislikes the place. It seemed like a fitting punishment at the time, and if not for Dravis, it would have been."

  "What will you do, Sire?"

  "I cannot do as he demands, and he knows it. This is to taunt me, and to flaunt his triumph. And it is not Jovan's doing. Dravis is behind this." Kerrion returned to his desk and sat down, scowling at the scrap of paper. "I shall order him to send the assassin to Jadaya for execution, and I will send troops to hunt for Dravis. He has given himself away with this threat. I want him captured and imprisoned, and Jovan too, for harbouring him."

  "You have no proof that Prince Jovan is harbouring his brother, Sire. The courts will not convict him without evidence."

  "Then I will find Dravis!" Kerrion thumped the desk. "I shall go myself."

  "Is that wise? What of your wife, Sire? Will she not be in danger if you leave Jadaya?"

  "The Queen? No, not any more. None of my other brothers are plotting to kill her, and if they try, they will be guilty of treason. With my new laws, the punishment for trying to kill her is death. They will not risk it. She is guarded by my best men, and they no longer have to obey a prince. No, she will be safe."

  Jadar nodded. "But if you go to Ashmarad yourself, will that not be seen as concern for this assassin?"

  "I am going there to find Dravis, no other reason. It may not be the most compelling justification, but it is not grounds for any accusations of treason. If Jovan does not obey my order to send the Jashimari assassin to Jadaya for execution, he will be the one guilty of treason." Kerrion looked up with a hard smile. "He has given me an excellent reason to imprison him too."

  "If he disobeys."

  "He cannot do it. Dravis is behind this, and he wants the assassin dead. He cares nothing for Jovan's unhappiness. In fact, I would venture to say that Jovan has gone behind his brother's back in sending this message. Dravis has captured Blade, and Jovan seeks to gain from it. Between the two of them they have succeeded in outsmarting themselves." Kerrion dipped a quill in the ink pot and drew a sheet of parchment from the pile on his desk. "They will regret this. Summon my commanders."

  "Which ones, Sire?"

  "All of them."

  Chiana gazed at the autumnal gardens, her sorrow reflected in the yellowing leaves that fell from the trees, just as her tears had dampened her pillow each night since Blade had left. Without even saying goodbye, she reflected bitterly. Why had he dreamt about his familiar's death so many years after it had happened? Why had he left immediately afterwards? Why could she not hate him, as he so richly deserved? Why did he haunt her dreams, and why was he not there when she woke from her nightmare each night? Her heart was turning into a lump of lead, yet a vestige warmth remained in it for him alone. He had returned to comfort her after her father's death, as if sent by Tinsharon himself. A strange thing for a heartless assassin to do. Yet all the gladness had deserted her when he had.

  The puffwood trees rained whirling winged seeds with their leaves, and smoke trees seemed to burn with dark embers as their tiny grey leaves reddened. A fire tree dropped black leaves like flakes of ash, as if the fiery flowers it had borne in midsummer had consumed its foliage. Lyric birds gave fluting calls as they prepared to fly south for the winter in bright flocks.

  A knock on the door made her turn. Insash came in, followed by Verdan, who looked worried, and carried his healer's bag. The advisor approached and bowed. Verdan remained by the door.

  "Regent..." Insash hesitated, wringing his hands.

  "What is it?"

  "I have grave news."

  Chiana sighed, glancing out at the gardens again. "What now?"

  "Perhaps you should sit down?"

  "Just tell me, Insash. I do not like to be coddled. How bad can it be?"

  "Please, my lady."

  Chiana shot him a frown and walked over to her pile of cushions, sank onto them and invited him to join her with a gesture. The advisor settled on a cushion and pulled a scrap of paper from his pocket. By the door, Verdan frowned at the floor. Chiana studied Insash as the tension rose.

  "I do not have all day."

  Insash fiddled with the scrap of parchment. "This arrived today, from Contara."

  "What has Prince Jovan done now? And why is it any concern of mine?"

  "He..." Insash glanced around at Verdan, then cleared his throat. "It is not from Prince Jovan, my lady. It is from Prince Dravis."

  "I thought Kerrion was hunting him for treason?"

  "That may well be, but it appears that he has found sanctuary with his brother in Contara."

  "Then I shall inform Kerrion. It is foolish of him to give away his hiding place. Why is this grave news?"

  Insash looked down at the message. "It is not. But if what this message says is to be believed..."

  "What does it say?"

  "It may not be true, my lady. I pray to Tinsharon that it is a lie."

  Chiana curbed her impatience, irritated by his dithering. "Just tell me, Insash."

  "There are only a few words..." Insash drew a deep breath. "It says that... the Queen's Blade is dead."

  Chiana stared at him. Her heart seemed to have stopped. It swelled, choking her, and she was aware of Verdan hurrying towards her as a roaring filled her ears, then darkness slammed down.

  Insash started forward as the Regent collapsed, his anguished cry unborn in his throat. Verdan reached her side and knelt, picking up her hand to pat it while he gazed at her with deep concern.

  "Is she all right?" Insash demanded.

  "She has fainted, that is all. She will be fine. Summon her maidens, she must be put into her bed."

  Insash jumped up and hurried to the door to bellow into the corridor, and a few minutes later a bevy of handmaidens ran in, twittering with concern.

  When they had tucked Chiana into her bed, Verdan sat beside her, stroking her brow, while Insash paced the floor at the foot of it.

  "That damned man is nothing but trouble," he said. "Why does he have to go disappearing into the countryside and getting into trouble? He is to blame for this! If he had stayed at the palace, he would be safe. But oh no, he has to run around with commoners, inviting his enemies to kill him. And he has a good many of them!"

  Verdan glanced at him. "Yes, he does, and I suspect that it has something to do with the fact that he has killed eight Cotti princes and their king, thereby ending the Endless War and bringing peace to our land. Not to mention the fact that he saved Queen Kerra twice as an infant and again when Endor would have taken her hostage. Indeed, we have much to revile him for, do we not?"

  Insash threw up his hands. "I am not denying that he has done
good deeds, albeit by killing people. Yes, yes, they needed to be killed, but ending the war and saving the Queen were not his motivations. He did it for money. Now he has gone and got himself killed, and look at what he has done!"

  "I would venture to say that he did not get himself killed, but was slain by his enemies, something he cannot be accused of having a hand in. And Lady Chiana is stricken because she loves him, also no fault of his."

  "How can you defend him? He is a damned killer! He feels nothing for her! He scorns her!"

  "Of course, which is why he prevented her from killing herself when her familiar was slain, saved her from two Contara assassins, and returned to comfort her when her father died."

  Insash snorted. "He did not wish to be Regent, and he probably thought she would try to end her life again when her father died."

  Verdan shook his head. "The Regent was not suicidal after her father's death. And the regency is the highest office in the land. I do not think he was as averse to it as he claimed."

  "You think he cares for her? Why did he leave after just three days, then?"

  "I cannot claim to know Lord Conash's mind, but yes, I believe he cares for her."

  Insash walked to the end of the bed and leant on it, gazing at Chiana. "Whatever he has done, or feels, he is responsible for this. Nobles do not go about the country unguarded. They are escorted by soldiers and bodyguards because they are important to the crown and vulnerable to kidnappers and murderers. Of course, the Queen's Blade was a killer himself, but even killers can be slain, it seems."

  "Lord Conash had every right to do as he pleased -"

  "Not when his death could cause so much trouble!"

  Verdan stroked Chiana's brow. "She will be all right. She is stronger than you think."

  Insash glanced around as the doors in the sitting room opened, then fell to his knees when Kerra entered, her eyes bright and her cheeks flushed. Verdan started to kneel, but she waved an impatient hand at him.