Master of the Dance (19 page)

In the stands, Jaren glanced at Dravis. "Time to put an end to this before he kills your assassin."

Dravis watched the gladiator kicking and punching the limp assassin with bright eyes, smiling. "No, let him play a while longer."

Jaren shrugged, looking disgusted. Jovan and Marek shot Dravis sour looks.

Prethos jumped up and leant out to bellow, "Enough! Leave him be!"

Anshon turned and strode towards the door, and Dravis swung to glare at his older half-brother.

"You are merely a spectator, Prethos. You have no right to interfere."

Prethos met Dravis' furious eyes with a frown. "Your cruelty sickens me. Since you were a child, you have delighted in inflicting pain on others, especially helpless creatures. I will not sit here and watch it."

"You are a weak-bellied fop. I should not have invited you."

"Then do not, when you want to indulge your sick perversions."

Prethos thrust Dravis aside and marched out, vanishing through the door at the back before Dravis could think of a suitable reply. He turned to find the rest of his brothers on their feet and heading for the exit. Even Jaren looked angry.

As Jovan passed, he muttered, "It will serve you right if he dies, idiot."

Jaren growled, "I enjoy sport, not watching a defeated man beaten to a pulp."

"He deserved it!" Dravis cried. "He killed Chaymin and Trelath!"

"At least he did not do it like that," Jaren called over his shoulder as he stepped through the door. Dravis hurried after them, caught up with Torval and grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Surely you can see the justice in it?"

Torval snorted. "What is the point of beating an unconscious man, Dravis? He cannot feel it."

"He will when he wakes."

Torval jerked his arm from Dravis' grasp. "If he ever does."

Dravis watched him leave, cursing under his breath. He had hoped that this should strengthen the uneasy alliance that had sprung up between his brothers to counter Kerrion's blackmail, but instead they had found his idea of entertainment distasteful. Trelath would have enjoyed it. Even Chaymin would have pretended to like it, to curry favour, but these brothers who were left were far weaker than those who had been murdered, in Dravis' opinion.

Only Endor remained of those who had the spine to plot against Kerrion and try to hurt him in any way they could. Prethos' reaction had surprised him, for he was the quietest of all, and Dravis had never seen him angry before. He followed them, ordering his men to take the assassin back to the cellar.

Chapter Thirteen

Kerrion looked up when Jadar entered his study and set aside the papers he had been reading. The elderly advisor bowed, glancing at Minna, who sat embroidering amid a plethora of cushions near the window. Until the advisor had entered, she had been staring out of the window, too worried about Blade to concentrate on her needlework, but now she appeared to be engrossed in it. Since Blade's abduction, Kerrion had kept his wife with him at all times to ensure her safety. Kerra often joined them, but she had gone for a walk in the gardens to exercise her familiar and get some fresh air. Kiara was out hunting, and Shista lay snoring by the wall, as usual.

Jadar approached the desk, looking grave. "Sire, the courts have received Dravis' request for witness privilege and granted it."

Kerrion glanced at Minna, who continued to embroider as if she had not heard. "That was quick."

Jadar looked uncomfortable. "Is this man whom Dravis kidnapped really the Queen's Blade?"

The King pondered the question, studying Jadar. "What difference does it make? Dravis is forcing him to admit to murdering Chaymin and Trelath, thereby clearing his own name."

"Well, if he is, you can no longer force your brothers to vote in favour of your new laws."

"You have kept yourself well informed, I see."

"A simple deduction, Sire. Two princes are assassinated, and suddenly the rest are on your side."

Kerrion inclined his head. "Yes, I suppose it is fairly obvious to anyone with wit enough to see it. Is there a reason for your enquiry?"

"Yes, Sire. If this man is your assassin, then your plans are doomed, and if Dravis forces him to testify against you, you will be charged with treason."

"I am aware of that. You have a suggestion?"

"I recommend that you silence him."

Kerrion's brows shot up. "You are advocating his murder?"

Minna looked up. "No one will harm Lord Conash."

Kerrion glanced at her. "Jadar is merely making a suggestion."

"A bad one."

"Perhaps, but let us hear him out. I understand the reason for his suggestion, but there is no proof that Lord Conash and the Queen's Blade are one and the same. Lord Conash is a retired assassin, it is true, but he bears the mark of his retirement. He is no longer for hire."

Jadar shook his head, casting a quick glance at Minna. "It does not matter, Sire. If he admits to the killings and names you as his employer, you will be charged. The only way to avoid that would be to prove that the Queen's Blade is still at large, and to do that, he would have to kill another prince."

"Even if he names me, it is his word against mine, and I am sure the court will realise that he is being forced to do it."

"It is not just his word, all the princes will swear to it as well."

Kerrion frowned. "True. But they have no proof."

"In cases like these, where no proof exists, the judges weigh the testimony of the parties and make their decision based upon the likelihood of facts. The deaths of your brothers have aided you, and the fact that you used this assassin to blackmail the rest of the princes is damning.

"Even if you deny it, the judges will know that it is quite likely to be true. However, if the assassin is dead, the princes have nothing to show the judges, who will be convinced by the man's tattoo."

"In that case, they could produce his body."

"True, but at least he would not be able to testify against you."

Minna put aside her embroidery and rose to approach Kerrion. "Enough of this foolish talk. Lord Conash will not testify against the King."

Kerrion raised a brow. "Not even if Dravis threatens your life?"

"Dravis cannot harm me, and Lord Conash knows that." She glared at Jadar. "You will see. He will make a fool of Dravis and turn the tables against him. He will be the one charged with treason."

"Lord Conash will be condemned if he admits to the murders."

"Then perhaps he will deny all knowledge of them."

Kerrion sighed. "He cannot hide his mark."

"He is retired. And besides, being an assassin is not a crime."

Jadar shook his head. "Being a Jashimari assassin in the palace where two princes have been assassinated is damning. Dravis will convince the court that Lord Conash killed Prince Trelath as well as Chaymin, and they will be more inclined to believe him than a Jashimari assassin. The courts will not believe that he did not do it. You cannot save him, Sire. I recommend that you silence him before he can do any harm to you."

"No." Minna's eyes glinted. "I forbid it."

Jadar shifted. "Madam, you -"

"No one will harm Lord Conash," Kerrion said.

Jadar bowed. "Yes, Sire."

"Leave us."

As soon as the advisor closed the door, Kerrion rose and took Minna's hands, raising them to his lips while he gazed into her eyes.

"There was no need to protest, my love. I was not going to agree."

"I cannot bear to even hear such a foul suggestion."

"Under other circumstances, it would have been wise."

She sighed. "I know. But even putting personal feelings aside, we must free him in order to bring our plans to fruition. Otherwise I will always be in danger from your brothers and you will be vulnerable to their plots through me. Not to mention your new laws will all be voted down again."

"I shall do all that I can."

Kerrion swung around as the doors opened and the guards announced Prince Marek. Minna retreated to her cushions, and Kerrion glared at his brother as Marek performed a brief bow before striding up to the desk.

"Your plot is over, Kerrion. Dravis has captured your assassin, and tomorrow he will be handed over to the court."

"Indeed?" Kerrion eyed Marek. "Dravis excels at storytelling, it seems."

"I saw him with my own eyes. Dravis arranged a little entertainment with him and some of Jarren's gladiators. The only problem is that he may not survive to testify against you."

Kerrion glanced at Minna, who stared at her embroidery, her face pale. "The fact that he has kidnapped a Jashimari lord who was visiting my wife does not mean that you are safe from the Queen's Blade, Marek."

The Prince snorted. "They are one and the same. He has admitted to killing Trelath and Chaymin."

"To you?"

"To Dravis."

"Oh, so you only have Dravis' word on that."

"It is good enough for me. No lord would be able to fight like he did. We are all convinced, and we will vote down your stupid laws at the next session of court."

Kerrion sank onto his chair. "I see. That is not for another five days, by which time the trial should be over."

"So?"

The King shrugged and picked up a paper. "Things change."

Marek leant across the desk. "The only thing that is going to change is that you will not be able to blackmail us again. And when we testify to the courts, you will face charges of treason."

"I would not do that if I was you."

"Why not?"

"Because I did not blackmail you, remember? I saved you from my benefactor's assassin by warning you of his intentions."

Marek growled, "We all know the truth."

"But the courts will believe me."

"Against all the princes? I think not!"

"They will, because they know that princes always plot against the King. What better way to remove him than to make false accusations? Which is also treason, by the way. Be very careful what you decide to do, it could cost you your life."

Marek thrust himself away from the desk with a sound of disgust and headed for the door, but stopped when Kerrion called him, turning with a frown.

Kerrion glowered at him. "How badly was the Jashimari lord treated?"

"Assassin, you mean." Marek shrugged. "He looked more dead than alive." He strode to the door and yanked it open.

Kerrion bowed his head as the door closed behind his brother, unable to meet Minna's eyes. When at last he glanced at her, he found her staring at her embroidery forgotten on her lap, her eyes vacant. He went over to put an arm around her shoulders, and she shivered, resting her head against him.

"Poor Blade," she sighed.

"There is still hope, my love."

"Even if we free him, if he is badly hurt he will not be able to work for a long time, maybe never."

"Let us cross that bridge when we come to it."

Blade drifted up from the dark arms of unconsciousness. His shoulder and ankle throbbed, making him grimace. Stifling a groan, he tried to sit up, discovering that his wrists were chained together once more, and he lay on the cellar's damp, dirty straw. When a little strength returned, he crawled to the wall and leant against it, taking stock of his injuries. His ankle throbbed within the confines of his boot, and he pulled it off.

That gave a little relief, and he leant back, closing his eyes while he waited for the dizziness to pass. His shoulder twinged every time he moved, but the blood had dried into a thick scab, protecting the wound. His belly ached from the kicks he had received, and his head pounded. He wondered how long he had been unconscious. Judging by his thirst and the growling emptiness of his stomach, quite some time. He found a bucket of water close by and drank some, then splashed his face, washing off the grime. A guttering torch lighted the dank room, and squeaking rats ran along the walls. He closed his eyes and dozed.

The door opening jerked him awake as several soldiers entered. They gripped his arms and hauled him to his feet, but he refused to stand, forcing them to carry him. Cursing, they dragged him from the cellar and flung him into a carriage at Dravis' feet.

He climbed onto the seat opposite the prince, who smiled at him and sneered, "I am going to enjoy watching you die, assassin."

Blade gazed at the passing scenery while the carriage rattled towards the palace. When they reached it, the prince's men dragged him from the carriage and handed him over to the scarlet-liveried court soldiers. They took him to the palace dungeons and dumped him in a cell whose floor was covered by a thin layer of cleaner straw. A few time-glasses later, the jailer gave him a meal of bread and watery stew, and after he had eaten he curled up and dozed.

The rattle of the key in the lock woke him, and he sat up as the door opened. Two torch-bearing soldiers, clad in the white livery of the King, came in and stood on either side of the door. Kerrion entered, a brown-robed healer at his heels. The King beckoned to one of the jailers who stood outside and ordered him to remove the shackles. The healer knelt beside Blade and examined him once the chains were removed, unlacing his jacket to inspect the wound in his shoulder. Kerrion squatted close by, frowning.

"How did this happen?"

The assassin's lips curled in a bitter smile. "They shot me with a crossbow."

"How badly were you beaten?"

"Good news travels fast, I see." He hissed when the healer poked the wound in his shoulder. "Not as badly as they think."

"Good."

Blade grunted and hissed again when the healer smeared ointment on his wound, shooting the man a glare. "What are you, a horse doctor?"

The young healer smiled. "I tend to soldiers. They have more courage than most."

"They are more stupid than most if they let you poke them like that."

Kerrion studied the assassin, who appeared remarkably unharmed, considering Marek's account. Once again, Blade had fooled his enemies, this time to avoid grave injury. Red bruises mottled his belly and one side of his face was swollen, the only injuries he appeared to have apart from a swollen ankle and wounded shoulder. The healer bandaged Blade's shoulder and ankle, then packed away his potions and bandages. Blade pulled his jacket on, favouring his injured shoulder.