Sacred Knight of the Veil (27 page)

His charisma overwhelmed her at this proximity, and his faint smile told her that he knew it. She struggled to hide her reaction, knowing that she failed and cursing her traitorous emotions. He was the Regent's husband, old enough to be her father, and a eunuch, yet he made her heart flutter and her insides tremble. She jumped when he touched the side of her face, running his fingers over the red mark where she had been hit in the brawl.

"So, you got smacked, too."

His soft voice sent shivers through her, and his touch turned her knees to jelly. In that moment, she understood why Chiana adored him, even though her love was hopeless and unrequited. Although she had flirted with young lords at the palace, never before had she experienced the tumultuous emotions that coursed through her now. He leant closer, and she held her breath as his lips almost brushed her cheek.

He whispered, "I promised punishment for disobedience, girl. And your adolescent quiverings were not what I had in mind."

His hand fastened onto her hair, and she gasped as he pulled her head back, mortified that her reactions had been so obvious. He tugged her across the room and pushed her down on the bed, then released her. She gazed up at him, biting her lip.

"I believe I promised to put you over my knee," he murmured.

"You would not dare!"

"Would I not?" His brows rose. "That sounds like a challenge."

"I have promised not to do it again. It was foolish."

"It certainly was."

"How did you know I had gone? You were asleep when I left."

He turned away, shaking his head. "I heard you leave. No one sneaks around an assassin unnoticed. I thought you had gone to the outhouse, but when you did not return, I went to check on you. The latrine was empty, so I went to the taproom."

"I would have been all right."

"You think so? A Jashimari in a room full of drunken Cotti? They would have beaten you half to death, just as they tried to do to me. You escaped because I provided them with a distraction."

"Well, you are all right, so there is no harm done."

He faced her. "Oh, so you think that is the end of it?"

"Yes."

Blade sat beside her and pulled her over his knee as she flailed and kicked. To her surprise, she managed to resist his efforts, and he was forced to grab her wrists to stop her from hitting him. Her triumph vanished when she noticed his faint smile, and realised that he was only toying with her.

"So," he murmured, "you are not even going to take your punishment like a queen. Do you really think you can fight me, girl?"

"I will have a jolly good try!"

He thrust her away. "I am not in the mood for another fight tonight. I will think of another punishment for you."

"What will you make me do, sleep on the floor?"

"Maybe I will make you walk tomorrow."

"You would not dare!"

"You really should stop saying that. I dare a great many things, and I am certainly not frightened of your threats." He bent and pulled off his boots. "Now, it is time I got some sleep. And just so that there is no mistake, you are explicitly forbidden to leave this room without me, understand?"

She nodded, noticing the way he rubbed the side of his head and winced. "You did get hurt."

"A little. No one could expect to get out of that room unscathed."

"Perhaps you should teach me how to fight."

He gazed at her. "I am not a fighter. Fighters are big hairy men who wear swords and use foul language. I merely defend myself."

"I saw you kill those Cotti in the forest, and the ones you killed in the palace. If that is not fighting, then what is?"

He sighed. "Fighting is two men flailing at each other with swords, or a whole bunch of them, for that matter. Some men fight without weapons, and roll around punching and gouging each other. It is usually brutal and prolonged, resulting in one killing the other, but the outcome is uncertain. Most of the men I kill never get close to me, and those who do die quickly."

"But they could kill you."

He nodded. "Of course they could, but only if they took me by surprise, or outnumbered me. That is not a fair fight. I do not pit my brawn against them, nor do I have any use for a sword. I use tricks, speed and agility. Fighters hate assassins, and any one of them will tell you that we are deceitful, slimy bastards. Before I retired, I killed most of my victims while they slept."

"But you could teach me to defend myself like you do."

"It takes years to learn those skills, but I could teach you a few tricks. Do you think you could kill a man?"

She shivered. "Do I have to?"

"You must be prepared to, because sometimes you will have to. Either you are a non-combatant, in which case you are reasonably safe, or you are a threat, which means you must be prepared to kill or be killed."

"Surely there are ways to stop a man without killing him?"

"There are, but when you try to do that, you put yourself in greater danger. If you fail, he will probably kill you. It is easier to kill a man than to incapacitate him."

Kerra gazed at him, pondering his words. "You mean like when you throw your daggers?"

"Exactly. Remember in the alley, when I rescued the healer? I tried to stop the swordsman by hitting him in the shoulder, but it only made him angry. If I had hit him in the throat or heart he would have dropped like a stone."

"But the man you cut...."

"Yes, it worked on him. Usually the sight of so much blood does, but it is not easy to do that without it being fatal. I can do it, but I would not advise you to try it." He lay back and closed his eyes. "Now go to sleep, we have a long ride tomorrow."

"Where are we going?"

"First we have to buy supplies and new horses, then we go into Cotti."

Kerra went over to her thin mat and lay down, her mind whirling with the excitement of the night and her strange confrontation with Blade. She had seen little of his escape from the taproom, for he had vanished soon after she had fled the melee, even though she had stood at the door and peered into the fray, desperate for a glimpse of him. Her concern had surprised her, for it was not merely because he was her protector. She had not wanted him to be hurt, and the prospect that the drunken Cotti might beat him had filled her with anguish.

The fury in his eyes when he had entered through the inn's front door had sent a shaft of pure terror through her heart, and she had fled in a panic. She had expected violence when he caught up with her, and had been surprised that he had not resorted to it, even though he had threatened it. Was that because she was a queen, she wondered, or simply that he did not use violence on women, other than pulling her hair? Although he had told her that he would have killed a woman without a second thought when he had practised his trade, she also wondered about the truth of that statement.

Her reaction to his proximity, and the way he had used his charm to humiliate her, was troubling. It was as if he resented his power over women, since it served him no purpose, and used it against them as punishment for their futile desires. This seemed likely, given his inability, and her pity for Chiana grew, mixed with sorrow for the beautiful, complicated man she was only starting to know. She longed to know him better, and resolved to find out as much about him as she could, so she might help him, if it was at all possible. Gradually her eyes grew heavy with fatigue, and the lingering effect of the ale she had consumed. Silence reigned in the taproom below, and she drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Fifteen

Chiana sagged against the ropes that bound her to the chair, her mind fogged with pain, her throat raw from screaming. The man who had been torturing Inka dumped the injured bird into her cage and turned to the Prince, who sat watching the proceedings.

"She knows nothing, Highness."

Endor growled and jumped up. "Take her to her rooms and let her maids tend to her. She has work to do."

"Shall I release the bird?"

"No, I may kill it yet."

Endor left, and the guards untied Chiana and carried her to her bed chamber, where they dumped her on her bed. The man who had been torturing Inka bore the cage that held her away. A few minutes later, her maids came in and fussed over her, pressed a glass of strong port to her lips and wiped her brow with cool damp cloths. When she had recovered enough to sit up, they brought her trays of tempting treats and rubbed her feet with shay flower-scented oils.

The pampering restored a little of her colour, and she stared at the wall. The cries of her familiar still rang in her mind, and the days of suffering had run together in a blur. Her hatred of Endor knew no bounds, and she silently promised him a painful end when the time came. That Inka still lived was a miracle. The man who had inflicted such torment upon her was, without doubt, an expert at his trade.

Chiana looked up as a maid told her that her bath was ready, and rose to follow the girl into the screened alcove where a steaming tub waited. Her will seemed to have left her. She had no wish to do anything other than what she was told. She wondered how anyone could survive the death of their familiar, if this was how bad it felt just for Inka to be injured.

People underwent a little death when their familiar died, a deep coma that they fell into for a tenday or so. When they awoke, they had to endure the terrible emptiness and loneliness of being without their beloved beast. Blade had gone through it, and Inka's torture had given her a taste of what he had suffered, bringing with it a new understanding of his coldness. As she lowered herself into the hot water, she prayed that he would continue to outwit the Cotti and keep the Queen safe from Endor.

Kerrion looked up as Jadar burst into his study, waving a message. Having returned from his latest search just this afternoon, he had taken a few time-glasses to bathe and rest before deciding to glance at some of the papers piled on his desk. He hoped that one of the documents would contain some hint of who else may know where Minna was being held, for he intended to set out again the next day with fresh horses and men.

Jadar stopped before the King's desk, holding the message aloft. "A message from Lord Dinarth. Prince Chaymin is staying on his estate, right now."

Kerrion jumped up. "Excellent! This time I shall make the little toad tell me where she is."

Jadar's face fell. "Sire, if you do that, Trelath will make your wife suffer. And Chaymin may not know where she is. You must follow Chaymin until he leads you to Trelath, who can then lead you to your wife."

Kerrion thumped the desk in frustration. "If he discovers us again, he will slip away into the desert, and the next lord may not be so loyal to me."

"Send only one man, Sire, a spy of bird kin. When he discovers where your wife is, he will send a message to you."

"Unless Trelath or Chaymin kill him. I need a man who can infiltrate their men and become one of them."

"Trelath will hire no new men now, Sire. He only trusts the ones he has."

The King sank back into his chair. "Why do they have to be so damned clever?" He tapped his fingers together. "Send two men, then, separately, and make them the best I have. At least then if one is killed, the other will carry on."

"Yes, Sire. A good plan."

"And make sure you send only men with raptors, I want no crows or doves that might be eaten by an eagle."

"Yes, Sire."

Kerrion stared past Jadar, his eyes unfocussed. "I will find her, Jadar. I will."

Minna-Satu looked up at the sound of tramping feet in the corridor outside her prison, clutching Shista when the cat tried to rise, growling deep in her throat. The Queen was so weak now that it was all she could do to hold onto the cat, who did not tax her strength, but obeyed her tacit command. Two soldiers clad in Trelath's pale blue colours entered and took up position on either side of the doorway, and her heart sank.

Moments later, Trelath appeared, looking robust and smug, his clothes spotless and his golden accoutrements glittering. Minna leant against her cat and summoned a little venom into her eyes, fixing the Prince with a chilling glare. Trelath wrinkled his nose at the stench and gestured to the bucket, which a soldier removed. He approached the Queen, studying her as a doctor might inspect a new patient with a rare disease.

"So, you are still alive, though how you can live with this fetor is amazing." He pulled out a lacy handkerchief and held it to his nose. "I would not be able to withstand it. But then, I do not have to. I was going to let you die here when the boy ran out of food, but unfortunately your continued existence is required, at least for a little while longer. Our plans have been delayed somewhat, and I may still require a fresh appendage to show your beloved husband, who is still searching for you."

Trelath paused and eyed her, as if expecting a reply. When she continued to glare at him, he went on, "Of course, he is an idiot, or he would not have married you, and he will not find you. I should imagine that the food I left with the boy must be rotten by now. So, you will be happy to learn that I have brought fresh supplies, and even a few creature comforts."

The Prince clapped his hands, and two servants entered, carrying cushions and rich cloths, which they dumped on the floor. Minna stared at the cushions, her mind too numb to take in this bounty, and her pride preventing her from accepting it. Two more men carried in a tub, which they set in the corner and began to fill it with water. Trelath watched them, sending the Queen a broad smile.

"See how well I care for you, woman. From now on, I will place guards here as well, and as soon as Kerrion disobeys Endor or myself, I will send for a finger or an ear. I had not planned on keeping you alive this long, but now it seems I have no choice. But rest assured, your husband is no closer to finding you now than he was at the outset. Even now, he is chasing after my brother Chaymin, who is serving as an excellent diversion."

A grey rat poked its head out of the Prince's tunic, and he stroked it. Shista pricked her ears and licked her lips. Trelath glanced at the tub, which was now filled with cold water, towels and a bar of soap placed next to it.