The Queen's Blade VI - Lord Protector Page 4

  "He lost the belt, and I reclaimed it. To defeat me now would only make him unpopular, since he couldn't defend it in the first place."

  Talon nodded. "That's true. But I reckon, if you practised hard enough, you could beat him at the Dance of Death."

  "So long as no one will challenge me, why waste the energy?"

  "You used to love to dance."

  "I used to dance to stop myself from murdering annoying people like you, Talon. It was the only outlet for my anger."

  "No wonder you got so good at it."

  Blade smiled. "Indeed."

  "And are you no longer angry?"

  "I still dance."

  "But not as much as you used to."

  Blade shrugged. "I have been busy of late."

  "So I heard. A pity about Bolt and Lance."

  "Lance, certainly, but Bolt was always headed for a sticky end." Blade sipped his wine, gazing into the fire.

  "I would like to hear the tale of your latest adventure."

  "I'm not a story teller."

  "Do I merit no warmth from you?"

  Blade sighed. "No one does."

  "Not even your lady wife. How is Chiana?"

  "Belligerent, since the death of her familiar."

  "Ah, yes, that was a great shame. I understand that she refuses to see you."

  Blade shot him a surprised, irritated look. "You have excellent spies."

  "The daughter of an elder works in the palace."

  "You should tell her to mind her own business." Blade drained his cup and held it out. "As should you."

  Talon took the goblet and opened his mouth to reply, but found himself facing Blade's back as he strode away. Turning, he spied Storm slipping into the crowd, and signalled to his two former apprentices, sending them to intercept the Cotti assassin. By the time he glanced around again, the gloom had swallowed Blade.

  "Three days ago?" Chiana stared at the spy. "It has taken you three days to discover that my husband has left Jondar?"

  The spy, whose misfortune it was to make the report, kept his head bowed, his eyes fixed on the hem of the Regent's severe black gown. "We are not certain that it was your husband, Regent. A man left by the north eastern gate with two spare mounts, so he must be travelling a fair distance. That is all we can say for certain."

  Chiana glared at the piles of papers on her desk, fighting the urge to sweep them onto the floor. "Why would anyone travel any distance in winter, unless he was being hunted?"

  "That was our thinking, My Lady. But we only got this report from the gate guards today, when they also reported the departure of a second man with two mounts, from the same gate."

  "The assassin." Chiana rose and walked over to the window to gaze out at the falling snow. "Your work is most unsatisfactory. This delay could cost my husband his life. You may go. Send someone to bring Captain Redgard here at once."

  "Yes, Regent." The spy bowed and left.

  Chiana continued to stare out at the white-blanketed garden, wondering why Blade had chosen to flee the city in the middle of winter. The thought of him out there, alone in the cold and snow, sent shivers down her spine. Had she, through her decision to test his feelings for her by refusing to see him, influenced his decision to undertake this insane journey? If she had not, would he not be here still, in the warm comfort of the palace? If so, would she be responsible for his demise? A knock at the door made her turn.

  Captain Redgard entered and bowed. "My Lady."

  "Redgard." Chiana returned to her desk, facing him across it. "I have just learnt that Lord Conash has left Jondar. I am convinced that he is travelling to his estate, and the assassin is following him. You will despatch a platoon at once, with orders to make all haste to Lord Conash's estate, and protect him when they get there. Or, if they should encounter him on the way, to escort him."

  "How long ago did he leave, My Lady?"

  "Three days."

  "Then it is unlikely that they will overtake him, unless he stops for a time. Travelling in winter is hazardous, as you know."

  She nodded. "The assassin left today. Perhaps they will be able to catch up with him and apprehend him."

  "On what charge?"

  "Plotting to assassinate a Jashimari lord, of course."

  "We have no proof of that, and he will deny it," Redgard pointed out.

  "Nevertheless, your men will arrest him. Lord Conash can identify him later."

  "To what end, my lady? Assassins are not held responsible for their actions under the law, only their clients, whose names they will not divulge. Only attempting or plotting to assassinate royalty is treason, and Lord Conash is not royalty."

  "Then they must make all haste to protect my husband. They can do that, can they not?"

  "Of course, Regent. But a platoon will travel slower than a single man. They cannot take as many remounts, and there are no resting places along that road capable of supplying and billeting so many men and horses."

  "Then what do you suggest?"

  "A small group of men, say five or six, to go ahead at all speed with two remounts apiece. The platoon will follow."

  She considered this, and nodded. "As long as you think six men will be able to protect my husband from the assassin, who, if he is anywhere near as good as Blade, will be difficult to stop."

  "No one is as good as his lordship, My Lady. I think six will be sufficient. And, of course, Lord Conash himself will be there. But I must point out that their chances of catching up with him are slim."

  "Then send them at once, and choose your best men and horses."

  Redgard bowed. "Of course, My Lady. I shall see to it myself."

  Chapter Four

  Blade turned and gazed back down the trail. All his instincts warned him that he was being followed, even though he could see nothing. Somehow, Storm had picked up his trail, and pursued him even through the snow, quite a feat for a desert man. For fourteen days now, he had struggled through deep drifts, changing steeds regularly as each one tired. Storm gained ground because he used the trough that Blade's horses made when they ploughed through the snow, and probably travelled for longer each day, since his horses were not so tired.

  Blade had passed through two villages along the way, stopping to rest for the night and eat a hot meal before pressing on. Other nights he spent in farmers' barns, and once he had slept in the hollow of an uprooted tree in the forest. That had been by far the most miserable. He had been unable to light the pile of damp wood with the temperamental tinderbox, and had been so cold that his teeth had ached from chattering.

  Cresting a hill, Blade reined in and gazed down at the squalid village nestled in a hollow. Even in winter it was an unpleasant sight, though not as bad as it had been in the autumn when he had last visited his estate. Now, at least, the surrounding landscape was unblemished white, though the streets were brown, muddy scars and the houses sent up clouds of smoke that hung in the still air. He urged his tired horse down the hill, and the few people who trod the slushy streets watched him pass without interest.

  Blade made his way along the unused road that led to his keep. The grey and black castle loomed stern and imposing against a pale sky. He recalled his last visit, when his bodyguard Lirek had ridden beside him and a platoon of soldiers had followed, sent by Queen Minna-Satu to keep him safe. He urged his mount into a trot, keen to reach the keep's warmth and dry his clothes.

  The tall wooden gates stood open, and he rode into the courtyard's grey, trampled snow. As he dismounted, a man emerged from the stables and trotted over to take the horses, stared at him and bowed a little uncertainly. Blade took his bag from the saddle and trudged to the nearest door, thrust it open and shut out the cold as he stamped the snow from his boots. The corridor held the redolence of roasting meat.

  Dropping his bag, he shrugged off his coat and hung it on a hook, then wandered along the corridor in the direction of the kitchens. Murmuring voices assured him of their occupation, and he stopped just inside the doorway to st
udy the scene. A plump woman stood at the scrubbed table, slicing vegetables, her back to him. Beyond her, a young girl washed pots in the sink and a tousle-headed boy fed the fire. The woman chastised the boy for some minor misdeed, and he protested in a whining tone. Blade waited, curious to see how long it took for someone to notice him.

  The girl finished her chore and turned, drying her hands. She glanced towards the doorway and froze, her brown eyes widening.

  "Ma."

  The woman looked up at the girl's alarmed tone, and swung around. She stared at Blade, who studied her familiar, broken-nosed face. With a shriek that made him start violently, she rushed at him. His attempts to fend her off were to no avail. She flung her arms around his neck and embraced him so hard that his ears popped. The knife with which she had been slicing vegetables hovered close to his ear, and she smelt so strongly of fresh-cut lonions that his eyes watered. He struggled to push her away, his hands sinking into generous flesh, while she rained kisses on his cheek.

  "Enough, Lilu! Damn it, stop this now."

  Lilu loosened her hold and leant back to gaze at him with adoring eyes that brimmed with tears of joy. "Blade! It's so good to see you."

  He tried to tug her arms from his neck, but she refused to release him. "I'm sure it is, but there's no need to strangle me."

  She hugged him again. "You haven't changed a bit."

  "The same can't be said for you." Blade stepped back when she let go and raked her with his eyes. "You're uglier than ever, and fat, too."

  Lilu laughed, ignoring her daughter's indignant gasp, and patted her ample curves. "Good living will do that to you. But you're so thin! I'll have to remedy that."

  "No you won't."

  Lilu giggled, studying him with bright eyes. "You're as handsome as ever. Should I say m'lord, or is it Regent, now?"

  "It's Blade."

  "What are you doing travelling in the middle of winter? You must be frozen, and starved. Sit, I'll get you something to eat. Embeth! Bring Lord Conash a bowl of broth." She turned to him. "You remember my daughter, Embeth?"

  "Not really."

  "Of course not, it was fifteen years ago, and she was just a child. This is my youngest son, Arjath. Did you meet my second eldest, Endel, in Jondar? He went there to find you. He's an assassin, like you."

  Blade inclined his head and sat at the table. "Yes, I met him."

  Lilu grinned. "I'm so proud of him. He's an excellent assassin, you know."

  "You're proud that your son's a killer?"

  Lilu sank down in the chair opposite, and Blade noted the rueful look Embeth shot her as she ladled broth into a bowl. "He's an assassin, like you, not a killer."

  "I'm a cold-blooded killer, Lilu. All assassins are. At least my family were dead when I became one. You should have stopped him."

  "But it was what he wanted, and he's good."

  "You encouraged him?"

  She nodded. "It's a good trade. It made you rich."

  "Yes, it did, but that was different. You filled his head with nonsense about me."

  "I told the truth."

  Blade glanced up at Embeth as she placed the bowl of broth before him. "You made him think I'm some sort of hero."

  "You are!"

  "No, I'm not. And he thought he was my son."

  Embeth and Lilu looked stunned. Arjath gawped at Blade. Lilu shook her head. "He didn't get that idea from me."

  "No, he thought it up all by himself." Blade scooped up a spoonful of broth and blew on it.

  "So you told him the truth?"

  "Yes."

  "Good." Lilu glanced at Embeth, then forced a smile. "He's a dreamer, that's all. How is he?"

  Blade hesitated, frowning at the spoonful of stew. "He's dead."

  "What?" Lilu looked dazed, blinking. "He's what?"

  "Dead."

  A clatter of pots made Blade glance at Embeth, who leant against the sink, her face grey with shock. Lilu's cheerful visage fell into lines of grief and dismay, and Arjath looked stunned. Blade sipped the broth and watched them.

  Lilu made a vague gesture. "How? Was it...?" Her face crumpled. "Tell me it wasn't you."

  He cocked his head, curious. "What if it was? Would you hate me?"

  Two tears ran down her cheeks, and her chin wobbled, but she shook her head. "No."

  "I would," Embeth muttered.

  Blade shot her a glance, then returned his attention to Lilu. "He went rogue. He was murdering whores, and the Guild condemned him."

  Embeth gasped, raising a hand to her mouth.

  Lilu made a strangled sound. "So you killed him on their orders? You did it quickly?"

  "You don't hate me, even if I killed your son?"

  She shook her head again. "How could I? If not for you... I love you, Blade, you know that."

  The assassin sighed, then leapt up as Embeth came at him, swinging a huge pot. It clanged off the back of the chair where he had been sitting, but he was already across the room, backing away. Lilu jumped up and wrenched the pot from her daughter's hands. She banged it down on the table and slapped the girl, who turned blazing eyes on Blade, clutching her cheek.

  "I hate you! Murderer!"

  "Embeth!" Lilu shouted. "Don't you dare speak to him like that!"

  "He killed Endel!"

  "He had good reason!"

  "How can you defend him, Ma?"

  Blade leant against the hearth and watched them, wiping broth from his hand. He spoke into the brief silence that followed Embeth's question.

  "Actually, I didn't."

  Lilu swung around. "You didn't?"

  "No."

  "Thank God."

  Embeth frowned at him. "Then why did you say you did?"

  "I didn't. I only asked Lilu how she would feel if I had."

  "Why?"

  He shrugged. "Because I wanted to know."

  "What, that she would worship you no matter what?"

  "Something like that."

  "How could you be so cruel?"

  "Stop it, Embeth," Lilu said, then turned to Blade again. "What happened?"

  He looked down at his hands. "I met him in an inn, and a Contara assassin tried to kill me. Endel got into the middle of it and paid the price."

  "He saved you?"

  "No." Blade frowned. "He was trying to, but I didn't need saving."

  "You killed the Contara assassin?"

  "Yes."

  Lilu sank into a chair, her expression a mixture of grief and pride. "At least he tried to do something good."

  Blade returned to his chair, eyeing Embeth, who still panted with fury. As he sat, she said, "Then he'd still be alive if not for you."

  "No, the Guild condemned him."

  "And were you to be the executioner?"

  "I was injured at the time, so I was not asked to do it."

  "But would you?"

  Blade picked up his spoon. "I didn't know who he was."

  "Would it have made a difference?"

  "Does it matter?"

  "It does to me."

  "Embeth!" Lilu remonstrated, shooting her daughter a glare. "Leave him alone."

  "Don't you want to know, Ma?"

  "No."

  Blade frowned at Embeth. "He was a rogue. A murderer. If they had asked me to, I would have, even if he had been my son."

  "And what are you? A murderer who gets paid to kill people."

  "Embeth!" Lilu said. "Remember who you're speaking to. If not for Blade, you would be selling yourself on Jondar's streets now."

  "No, I would have found a rich husband, instead of being cooped up in this dungeon with yokels for neighbours."

  "Rich men don't marry the daughters of whores."

  Embeth paled, looking away, and Lilu relented, adding, "Perhaps if you're nice to Blade, he'll take you to the court in Jondar."

  Blade's brows rose at this suggestion. "Indeed?"

  "Yes, you might. I know you're not as heartless as you pretend to be."

  "Ruin my reputation, wh
y don't you?"

  Embeth gazed at him with sudden hope. "Would you?"

  Blade sampled the broth. "So far, you've done little to endear yourself to me, girl, and I certainly won't if you try to splatter my brains with a pot again."

  Embeth hung her head, and Lilu sighed, wiping her eyes. "So much joy and grief in so short a time. You certainly know how to cause a stir, Blade. Arjath, run down to the cellars and fetch a bottle of good wine."

  Blade glanced up. "There's still some left?"

  Embeth gave another indignant gasp, but Lilu smiled. "Not much. I tried to drink it all before your return, to save you from yourself. But I haven't succeeded entirely, you laid in such a huge stock."

  "Ma! You've never touched his wine," Embeth protested.

  Lilu cast her daughter a martyred look. "He knows that, silly girl."

  "Oh." The girl turned to the sink, busying herself with the plates in it.

  Blade unlaced his jacket and took it off. Lilu watched him with a mixture of sadness and love, her eyes glimmering with unshed tears.

  "Tell me how Endel died. Was it quick?"

  "Fairly. A lot quicker than it would have been if the Guild had caught him. It only took a few time-glasses."

  Lilu rubbed her eyes. "And where's he buried?"

  "I don't know. The Guild would have taken care of that."

  She nodded, then drew a deep breath to steady herself. "Why have you come here now, in the dead of winter? The journey must have been terrible."

  Blade shrugged and spooned the broth. "I grew tired of Jondar."

  Lilu shook her head. "No, you must have a better reason than that."

  "Why so curious? Isn't it enough that I'm here?"

  "Yes, of course." She sighed. "Very well, keep your secrets. How long will you be staying?"

  "Definitely until the spring."

  Arjath returned with wine, and Lilu filled a silver goblet for Blade, joining him at his invitation. She sent Embeth and Arjath to prepare a bedroom and air out the sitting room, light fires and fill a bath for Blade. While they were gone, she regaled him with an account of her life over the last fifteen years, and asked questions about his. The wine loosened his tongue, and he gave her a terse account of his latest adventures, leaving out those parts that his code forbade him to reveal. Embeth prepared a meal that he picked at before retiring to his room to bathe and sleep, tired from the day's journey.