The Queen's Blade VI - Lord Protector Page 6

  "He won't. He's been paid to kill me slowly."

  Lilu recoiled, looking shocked. "And how will he do that with you screaming the place down?"

  "I'm sure he plans to gag me, but he won't get that far, I assure you."

  "If you were him, how would you do it?"

  He shrugged. "An assassin is the most difficult target of all. To kill one slowly is doubly hard. I wouldn't attempt to do it in his bedroom, his sleep would be too light. The best way would be to waylay him in a dark corridor and render him unconscious, then take him to a place where no one would find him."

  "What about the guards?"

  "I would kill them before they could draw their swords."

  "You would, but could he?" she demanded.

  "Probably."

  "Any other ways of doing it?"

  He nodded. "There's a better way now, to disguise himself as one of these idiot guards. Then he'll only have to kill one of them, and he'll be able to get close to me far easier."

  "Then he might succeed?"

  "If he's as good as me, he might, but he's not."

  "Why don't you go after him, instead of waiting for him to try to kill you? Surely that would give you an advantage?"

  Blade smiled. "My code forbids it. I have no client."

  Lilu banged the rolling pin down on the table and dug in her apron pocket, pulling out a handful of silver and copper coins. She separated out two silver coins and put the rest back in her pocket, then bent and picked up his hand, slapping the coins into it.

  "I want the Cotti assassin dead."

  He gazed at the coins, his smile fading, then looked up at her. "You're hiring me?"

  "You're an assassin, aren't you?"

  His other hand crept to the base of his throat and fingered the patch that covered the mark of his retirement, recalling how close he had come to removing it. Since rejecting the idea of asking Kerra to be his client, he had not given any more thought to the possibility of acquiring a customer. Now Lilu had solved the problem for him. He looked down at the coins again and smiled.

  "Yes, I am."

  "So, do you accept?"

  He chuckled. "It's been a long time since I worked for so little, but this is more than he's worth."

  Blade swung his legs off the chair arm and sat up, then took Lilu's hand and pressed one of the coins into it. "One is enough."

  She smiled. "You should do it for free."

  "I must have payment, or the promise of it, no matter how little."

  "Isn't there a minimum price for a man's life?"

  "No. The assassin decides the price, depending on the difficulty of the mission."

  Lilu pocketed the coin. "So does this help you?"

  "Yes." His smile broadened, and Lilu's eyes stung at the heart-wrenching sweetness of it. The sour mood that had been upon him since his arrival fell away as if by magic, revealing the man she knew and loved so well. She longed to throw her arms around him, but restrained herself, knowing how he would react. To her surprise and delight, he took her hand again and kissed the back of it in a gallant gesture that made her heart swell.

  "You're cleverer than you look, for an ugly old whore."

  She laughed, her hand tingling from the touch of his lips. "And now you really are my assassin."

  "Something I'm sure you won't let me forget either."

  "Why should I? Now you know that you should have asked for my help after all, instead of trying to keep it a secret."

  He rose and wandered over to the window. "I had considered asking someone to be my employer in this case, but I must say I hadn't thought of working for my housekeeper."

  Lilu followed him, her eyes bright with mischief. "Too proud?"

  "No, an assassin will work for a beggar if he has the money to pay for it."

  "But lately you only work for queens and regents."

  "I've had no other offers." He glanced at the rolling pin. "What were you planning to do with that?"

  She shrugged. "Beat some sense into you."

  He smiled. "You wouldn't do that."

  "I would, to save your life." She slipped her arm through his, and he tolerated her possessive touch with a wry smile. "Now tell me how you plan to kill this Cotti."

  "I'll employ the tactics I told you about earlier. The best way to kill an assassin is to waylay him, preferably in a crowded place."

  "So you'll go to the inn."

  He nodded. "Even if he's not staying there, which he probably is, he'll go there to drink."

  Her grip on his arm tightened. "But you'll be careful, won't you?"

  "Afraid you'll lose your meal ticket?"

  "You see?" Lilu turned to her daughter. "I told you he still thinks I saved him for his money. And it does no good to point out that when I found him, I didn't know he had any."

  "No," Blade agreed. "Because you thought that even if I had none then, I'd make some in the future."

  "I didn't even know you'd live."

  "But you hoped I would."

  Lilu gave a snort of frustration and released him, marched across the room and collected her rolling pin on the way. At the door, she paused to look back at him.

  "One of these days I really will beat some sense into you."

  He chuckled. "You'll have to catch me first."

  Chapter Six

  That night, Blade retired to the library with a bottle of wine after supper, as he usually did. He wanted to get to the inn while it was still busy, without his guards. Picking up the hooded coat he had brought to the room earlier, he donned it before going to the window and pulling it open, admitting a gust of freezing wind and snow.

  Slipping over the sill, he climbed down the wall, his fingers finding cracks between the rough stones. Without gloves, his hands soon grew cold, and the icy stones made the descent treacherous. He recalled the time, long ago, when he had leapt from a hall window on the same floor to escape capture, breaking his leg in the process.

  Dropping the last few feet, he landed in a deep drift and struggled from it, rubbed and blew on his hands before he pulled on his gloves. The library window overlooked the wild lands at the back of the castle, so he did not have to avoid the guards in the courtyard. He set off towards the distant village at a brisk pace, the fact that he could have taken a horse if not for the soldiers souring his mood.

  Snow drifted from a moonless sky, and the freezing air chilled his lungs and nose. Frozen ironwood trees bordered the road, their boughs heavy with ice and snow, their roots hard in the chill earth while their sap slumbered. Starlight silvered the pristine whiteness of occasional fields and glades where shy beasts slipped from view. He floundered through a few deep snowdrifts, but the exertion warmed him and his fitness meant that the journey, though onerous, was not unduly taxing. Nevertheless, he was glad to reach the village's outskirts, and avoided the muddy roads on his way to the dilapidated inn.

  Blade pulled up his hood and pushed open the door, entering with a gust of wind and snow. He glanced around at the crowded, dimly lighted room. Like most such establishments, it had a seedy, run-down air that was the legacy of too many brawls and not enough cleaning. Tarnished copper pots hung over a fireplace in the far wall, and battered furniture provided seating for the customers. Dirty sawdust covered the floor, stained in places with spilt ale or wine, perhaps even a little blood. A roaring fire crackled, and a bored looking boy turned a carcass, too shrivelled to be identified, on a spit over it. A few patrons looked at Blade, but most did not bother to interrupt their conversations. Storm sat on the far side, his back to the wall, in the favoured position of assassins. The Cotti had shaved off his beard, but was otherwise unchanged. He stared at Blade, clearly trying to penetrate the shadows that hid the Jashimari assassin's face.

  Blade headed for the darkest corner and slid onto a vacant chair, ignoring the glares of the table's occupants. He put a handful of silvers on the table to make his intentions clear, and the men beamed and shouted for a serving wench. While they toasted his genero
sity and drank the round of ales his silvers purchased, Blade waited for the Cotti to relax. To an onlooker, Blade would appear to be an old friend of the men at the table, who had accepted and welcomed him, which should be sufficient to allay the Cotti's suspicions.

  Clearly the inn's patrons knew Storm was an assassin. The fact that he sat alone in a crowded taproom proved it. Assassins were not obliged to make their trade known, but often did to repel unwanted companions and advertise to prospective customers. When Blade glanced at him again, some time later, he appeared relaxed, gazing across the room at a buxom serving wench. Blade's female disguise would have been effective to lure the Cotti upstairs, but he hated it, and wanted the Cotti assassin to know who was responsible for his death.

  Blade listened to the bawdy talk of the men at his table and raised his tankard to clank it against theirs when the urge took them. He surreptitiously tipped much of his ale into his neighbours' tankards, appearing to drink as much as they did and buying fresh rounds whenever their flagons ran dry. His companions grew drunk and rowdy, singing lewd ditties.

  Soon Blade's table became popular as more patrons joined it, availing themselves of the generosity of the hooded stranger in their midst. No one enquired as to his identity, and although they clapped him on the back from time to time by way of thanks, they did not otherwise bother him. Blade bided his time, listening with half an ear to the drunken ramblings of the man next to him.

  While he waited, he considered all the factors that made assassins so hard to kill. They rarely drank too much in public, a mistake Blade had made in the past, but of which Storm was not guilty now. They were solitary and alert, not distracted by drinking companions, although occasionally by whores, and they always sat with their backs to a wall, something Blade was unable to do at the moment. He waited with the limitless patience of a master assassin, aware that an opportunity might not present itself that night.

  An argument at a nearby table grew loud, and one of the men jumped up and flung back his chair. Blade tensed, sensing the start of a brawl, which would change the situation quickly. Another man tried to make peace with the drunken pugilist, but the angry patron punched him, and others leapt into the fray. As happened all too frequently in taprooms, within moments the convivial atmosphere degenerated into a mass of heaving, punching brawlers.

  The men at Blade's table, no less eager to join the fray, jumped up and rushed into the growing melee. Blade slid off his chair and sidled away from the worst of the fracas, glancing in Storm's direction. The Cotti assassin had jumped up too, but not to join in. He looked around for an escape route, and there were only two, the front door or the stairs that led to the rooms above. The situation was similar to the one in which Storm had surprised Blade, and now he hoped to reverse their roles.

  Storm headed towards the inn's front door, staying close to the wall and ducking the missiles that had started to fly. Blade retreated into the deep shadows in the corner, becoming invisible in his black clothes. There, he shucked the long coat that would hamper him and provide purchase for his opponent, should it become a fight. Storm, concerned only about the fighters, watched them as he sidled along the wall, jumping aside to avoid staggering men and fending off the odd punch.

  As the Cotti assassin drew near to his hiding place, Blade slid two daggers from his belt and closed the gap between them with swift strides. His hands flashed towards Storm's throat, but he threw himself aside, warned by the same built-in alarms Blade possessed. Storm whipped around, curved knives appearing in his hands, and dropped into a fighting crouch.

  Blade flicked a dagger with a short, sharp motion. Storm jerked aside, and it struck him in the shoulder instead of the throat. Blade threw the other one, but again Storm moved too fast, and it opened a gash above his eye. Blade bent and yanked the daggers from his boots, then flung himself sideways as Storm leapt at him, his boot skimming past Blade's cheek. Blade skipped back and retaliated with a kick that hit Storm on the chin and sent him staggering away.

  The Cotti crashed into a table, sending it skidding across the floor with a screech. He whipped around as Blade closed with him again, blood pouring down his face and chest. Blade leapt, lashing out with a stiffened leg, and his boot-tip narrowly missed Storm's chin as the Cotti jerked back. He threw himself aside, sent a chair grating across the floor and forced Blade to swing around to face him.

  The brawl still raged in the middle of the room, but many of the men close to the assassins had noticed the strange fight and stopped to gawp, some still clutching their former opponents. Storm swept up a tankard and hurled it at Blade, who ducked, allowing it to sail over him and smash against the head of a man behind him, who dropped with a grunt. The Cotti made no move to attack, and Blade guessed that he had too much respect for his enemy.

  The knowledge that Blade had defeated Ice in a duel and two Contara assassins at once, to say nothing of his own defeat at the Match, undoubtedly weighed heavily on Storm's mind. The fact that Blade had already injured him twice added to his caution, which, in this case, was his enemy. Blade had no such qualms. Although he preferred to use defensive tactics, he advanced again with light, dancing steps, alert for the slightest hint of movement from his opponent.

  Storm retreated, then swung and grabbed a gawping patron, stepped behind him and held a curved dagger to the man's throat.

  "Come any closer, and he dies."

  Blade stopped and straightened, letting his arms fall to his sides. "Afraid to fight me?"

  "Only a fool would not be afraid of you, and I'm not one."

  "You were a fool when you accepted this mission, and an even bigger one not to kill me when you had the chance."

  "I'm still going to kill you, but not like this."

  "Because you know you'll lose."

  Storm inclined his head. "Perhaps taking this job was a mistake, I'll grant you that, but I'm not going to fight you."

  "And you think that this will stop me?" Blade gestured at the terrified man. "You think I won't kill him to get to you?"

  Blade became aware that the brawl had stopped, and the men stared at the assassins. Storm jerked his head at the spectators. "That might be ill advised. He's a friend of theirs."

  "And you're the one with a knife at his throat."

  "Walk away, and he lives."

  "And give you another chance to try to kill me in some dark corner?"

  Storm shrugged, wincing. "That's my job. You shouldn't have made so many enemies."

  "Well, now that I have a client it's my job to kill you." Blade smiled. "And they paid me just one silver coin. That's all you're worth."

  "I didn't think your skills could be bought so cheaply."

  "Usually I'm a little more expensive, but you, I would have killed for free."

  Storm backed towards the door, dragging his human shield. Blade followed, keeping the same distance between them. The Cotti paused by the door and considered his next move, then turned his head, his eyes fixed on Blade.

  "Open the door," Storm ordered the men who stood next to it.

  The men hesitated, glancing at Blade, who bent to pick up his fallen dagger and sheath it in his belt.

  Storm watched Blade, aware that he was vastly more experienced, and his legendary reputation was enough to strike fear into the most courageous man. Although Storm was twenty years younger, he doubted his ability to defeat Blade, and already knew he was not as fast. Such feelings of inadequacy had never plagued him before. He had always considered himself to be the best. He met Blade's eyes and shivered at the icy emptiness of their pale grey depths, which held no hint of emotion. This brought the unsettling realisation that the man he had not wanted to kill in Jondar was an assassin of the highest calibre, devoid of the pity Storm had sometimes experienced.

  When the men behind him did not obey his order, he shouted it again, making them jump.

  "Where are you going to go, Storm?" Blade asked. "Do you think you can outrun my dagger once you cast aside your shield? Or do you plan to
take him with you?"

  "You're staying here, and these men will ensure that you do if they want their friend to live."

  Blade raked the crowd with a contemptuous glance. "They won't try to stop me. They know I'll kill them if they do, just as I'll kill the man you hold unless you let him go."

  The man in question struggled, and Storm, his arm weakened by the injury to his shoulder, could not hold him. The villager slipped from his grasp with only a shallow cut on his throat and burrowed into the crowd. Storm gritted his teeth as his shoulder throbbed, sending shafts of pain down his arm. Exposed once more, he waited for Blade to make his next move as he tried to think of a way out of the situation.

  The Jashimari assassin appeared relaxed. He had not even bothered to raise his weapons again, but watched Storm. Sensing a movement behind him, Storm whipped around as a patron made a foolish attempt to grab him. He slashed the man's face, opening a gash down his cheek that made him recoil with a yell. Using the distraction, Storm rushed at the crowd, which dived from his path. Bending double, he raced for the door, yanked it open and hurled himself into the slushy street.

  Storm rolled, grunting as the impact twisted the dagger in his shoulder, then leapt up and spun to face the inn. Blade was already out of the door, a hand drawn back to throw another dagger, and Storm threw himself sideways as it flew at him. It missed him by a hair's breadth and clunked into the muddy ground, lost in the slush. Storm rolled to his feet, yanked the dagger from his shoulder and hurled it at Blade, who ducked.

  Realising that his only hope of defeating the Jashimari assassin was to get close to him, Storm charged Blade. Assassins normally avoided close contact, since it quickly resulted in serious, often fatal wounds to one or both combatants. As he hoped, it took Blade by surprise, and he slipped on the ice as he tried to leap aside. One of Storm's knives sliced into Blade's biceps as he flung up his arm, the other was deflected by Blade's weapon as the Jashimari assassin parried the blow with his other hand.