Master of the Dance (22 page)

Minna sank down on a chair, staring at the floor. "They are going to torture him."

"What?" Kerra gasped. "Why?"

"For the fun of it, I think."

"It is part of his punishment," Kerrion said.

"Is it not enough that he is going to die a slow and agonising death?"

"Apparently they do not think so."

"How are we going to free him?" Kerra demanded.

Minna glanced at Kerrion. "I do not know."

"It is impossible," he muttered. "If I could, I would."

"He would find a way to free you if the tables were turned."

"He would laugh at my funeral and dance on my grave. In fact, he would like nothing better than to kill me himself. He would even do it for free."

Minna shook her head. "I wish I could prove that you are wrong, my dear. He did not accuse you, just as I said."

"Because of you."

"No."

"He would have accused me to avoid torture."

"Oh, Kerrion," Minna sighed.

"More lies?"

"Yes."

"We must free him!" Kerra burst out.

Minna put down her cup and rose, looking wan and tired. "I am returning to my rooms. I wish to be alone."

"It is not safe," Kerrion protested.

She turned. "I think it is. Dravis cannot possibly strike at me so soon."

Kerra went after her, taking her arm in the doorway, and Kerrion watched them leave. Frustration, anger and regret filled him, a terrible feeling of helplessness fuelling it, which he hated. The thought of Blade dying on a stake brought stinging bile into his throat, and his inability to save the assassin shamed him. He longed to march down to the dungeons and order him freed, but the consequences would be dire, not only for him, but for his wife and children.

His brothers would unite against him, and he would replace Blade on the execution block, leaving Minna and the children at the princes' mercy. He had considered sending a trusted servant to free Blade, but if the man failed the trail would lead straight to him. If he appealed to the courts or protested too strongly, the judges may grow suspicious, and his brothers would take the opportunity to accuse him of collaborating with the assassin. He sank down on a chair and slugged back the contents of his cup, reaching for the bottle to refill it.

When Minna-Satu arrived in her rooms, she dismissed her maidens and turned to her daughter. A grim resolve had replaced her tiredness and despair, and she took Kerra's shoulders in a firm grip, gazing deep into her eyes.

"Kerrion can do nothing, but we can."

Kerra nodded. "I have already thought of a plan."

"Indeed? Tell me, perhaps we are in accord."

Kerra gestured to the cushions, and they sat down. "Blade taught me a little of his art, and I think I could free him."

"From the dungeons?" Minna's brows rose.

"I had planned to go there disguised as a maiden sent by father with food, but it would have been risky. I would have smuggled his daggers to him, then relied on him to kill all the sentries on the way out. It might have worked, but now I have a better idea. You say he is going to be tortured, and I think we must wait until he is taken out of his cell. Do you know where they will take him?"

Minna shook her head. "But Kerrion will. I can ask him, but we must tell him nothing of our plans. He will try to stop us, fearing for our safety."

"He is not used to Jashimari women. We are not helpless like Cotti. If you can find out where he is to be tortured, I will free him."

"It will be dangerous. Are you certain you have the courage to see it through? If you fail, Blade dies, a prospect I dread. If you have any doubts, I will do it."

"No, I will do it, mother. I have a little of Blade's skills, a paltry amount compared to his, but I am not afraid." She hesitated, bowing her head. "I must save him."

Minna cupped her daughter's cheek, raising her face to gaze into her innocent eyes. A tear overflowed and ran down Kerra's cheek, leaving a glittering trail. The Elder Queen leant forward and kissed Kerra's brow, wiping away the tear.

"Have courage, my dear. You are my daughter, descended from a long line of queens, all of whom had the hearts of warriors. It will not fail you. I would not put you in danger, but..."

"You love him too, I know."

Minna smiled, her eyes sad. "Alas, it is not only that, dearest. I fear that if he dies, the princes will eventually succeed in their plots to bring Kerrion down. If that happens I will perish, and my sons soon after, without their father to protect them. The war will start again, and this time Jashimari will be conquered. You too will perish in that event, and the blood that Shamsara foretold will flow."

"You know about that?"

Minna nodded. "Chiana told Kerrion about it."

"How can so much depend upon one man?"

"Because he is the instrument, child. Tinsharon forged him through the vileness of our enemies, to be our salvation. Once Kerrion's new laws are passed the remaining princes will be powerless, and Blade has still to slay Dravis and Endor. Only then will our future be assured."

Kerra nodded. "I will not fail, mother."

"I know it."

Chapter Fifteen

Kerrion stood on a turret that overlooked the executioner's courtyard, gazing down at the place where Blade was to die. Workmen toiled in the hot sun, building the scaffold to which he would be bound. The sentence was to be carried out immediately, and a crowd of courtiers and lords gathered, filling the edges of the courtyard and the many balconies and windows that overlooked it. Kerrion hated their arrogant, laughing faces and smug cruelty. Blade had good reason to hate the Cotti, he reflected, not only for the death of his family, but for their conceited disregard for the suffering of others. He glanced up at Kiara, hovering high above, and wished that he could join her in her simple world of wind and hunting.

Kerrion turned at the sound of footsteps, frowning. Marek strolled towards him, looking smug.

"What do you want?" Kerrion demanded.

Marek bowed. "Only to join you in your vantage. I am surprised that you are going to watch your assassin die."

"Leave me."

"So, you no longer deny it. Come, let us be friends. Order your assassin to exonerate Dravis, and all will be forgiven. We will even let you pass some of your silly laws, just to show our good intentions."

Kerrion turned away to stare down at the courtyard. "That is the problem. A king should not have to curry the favour of his brothers in order to pass laws. And how long will it be before one of you harms my wife again?"

"No one will, I swear."

"Your oaths mean nothing to me, or to Dravis. He wants the throne, and he will kill all of you to get it."

"He has not killed anyone. He is just a boy."

The King nodded. "Exactly. He is already plotting against me."

"If you do not order the Queen's Blade to absolve Dravis, none of your laws will be passed."

"More blackmail, Marek? It did not take you long to resort to your brothers' tactics. As for the assassin, he is not mine, and I do not have the power to order him to do anything."

"Then tell your wife to do it."

Kerrion swung around. "Do not bring her into this. It has nothing to do with her."

"He is her assassin, by his own declaration."

"Even if she could order him to do it, I will not ask it of her."

Marek shook his head. "You are making a mistake. If you do not help Dravis, you will make an enemy of him."

"He is already my enemy. He chose to be, and my helping him would not change that, even if I wanted to, which I do not." Kerrion turned his back on his brother. "Now leave me."

"You should reconsider..."

The King spun around, closed the gap between them with a single stride and punched his brother in the face. Marek went sprawling with a grunt of surprise, and gazed up at the King with dazed eyes. Kerrion stood over him, breathing hard through flared nostrils, his hands clenched at his sides. Marek wiped the blood from his nose and sat up, looking stunned.

"Disobedience is a punishable offence," Kerrion growled. "From now on, I intend to see to it that you pay for every insult you offer me, every infraction of the laws. Before this, we merely disliked each other, but now you are my enemy, and will be treated as such. I think I will send you to lead the army against the nomads to the east. I will find suitably unpleasant posts for the rest of your scheming, traitorous brothers too."

Marek struggled to his feet, holding his nose. "I have done nothing to earn your disfavour!"

"You have connived with Dravis, and insulted me and my wife with your championing of his cause. It makes you as bad as him."

Marek shook his head, clearly dismayed. "I only wanted to find the truth. I have not plotted against you."

"Nor will you get the chance. Your insolence is abhorrent to me. I still have the power to make you pay for it, and you will."

"Do not do this."

The King raised his hand and beckoned to the guards who stood in the doorway, and they marched closer and bowed.

"Take Prince Marek to the dungeons. He is to be charged with disobeying the King."

The guards took Marek's arms, tugging him away. "No!" Marek cried. "My horses!"

"You should have thought of that before you took Dravis' side. Be grateful that I do not have your stallion taken out and slaughtered."

Marek paled with shock and horror, and allowed the guards to lead him away. Kerrion turned to study the courtyard below with a slight twinge of satisfaction at Marek's fate.

The workmen had finished their task and left, now the crowds awaited the assassin's appearance. Kerrion raised his arm, and Kiara floated down to land on his wrist, shuffling her wings into place. He stroked her soft breast as she trilled a greeting and stretched out her neck, begging him to scratch it. Obliging, he watched the crowd below. The atmosphere had become jubilant, and servants plied their masters with pastries and wine. Gales of laughter wafted up on the warm breeze.

It died away as all heads turned towards the doors on the far side of the courtyard, which led to the dungeons. They swung open to admit a dozen spear-toting court guards, who formed a square around the prisoner. Blade walked in the centre of it, two soldiers holding the long ropes that bound his wrists, pulling the assassin's arms away from his flanks. Two more walked behind, holding the ropes that bound his ankles. He was stripped to the waist, revealing the many scars that marred his pale skin and the tattoo at the base of his throat.

Kerrion found a lump blocking his throat and tried to swallow it, wondering why Blade's torment affected him so. Perhaps because he owed his life to the assassin, and that of Minna and Kerra too, but it was more than that. Perhaps because Blade had already suffered so much at the hands of Kerrion's countrymen, or maybe simply because he captivated people with his charisma even as he froze their affection with his chilling stare. Then again, it could be that Minna was right, and he considered the laconic assassin his friend, even though Blade would scorn it.

The crowd cheered as the soldiers led Blade towards the scaffold, shouting insults and trying to spit on him. The soldiers kept the people too far away to succeed, but their attempts sickened Kerrion. The throng jeered and booed, surging after the soldiers in an angry mob, pushing against the spears. A few men threw stones, most of which missed the assassin and hit the soldiers around him, making them shout at the crowd to desist. The men ignored the soldiers and kept up the barrage, and some missiles bounced off Blade's back. One struck him on the head, and he staggered, pulling on the ropes. Kerrion's breast burnt with rage, and he turned to the two new guards who stood in the doorway.

"Tell my captains to clear the courtyard!"

One of the soldiers turned and vanished down the stairway, leaving Kerrion to watch with growing disgust as the crowd pelted Blade with stones. He longed to lean over the parapet and bellow at them to stop, but they would not hear him above the noise they were making. A minute later, a company of his white-liveried soldiers surged into the courtyard, using their spear butts and sword hilts to beat the mob back. The throng retreated, and the King was pleased that many of its members were dealt with harshly, beaten to the ground and kicked. Cries of dismay and anger rose from some, but the stone throwing stopped as the horde was forced towards the exits.

Blade reached the scaffold, and the ropes attached to his wrists and ankles were pulled tight and bound to its frame, stretching his arms out above his shoulders. He stood with his legs apart, unable to move in the taut web. By the time he was secured, the courtyard was empty save for Kerrion's soldiers, and the only spectators were those who watched from balconies and windows. Kerrion tossed Kiara back into the sky and quit the turret, making his way down the winding staircase to his rooms, where he poured himself a cup of strong port. His helplessness filled him with guilt, and he could not bear to face Minna. Blade's ill treatment weighed heavily upon his conscience, and he sat and stared at the wall, memories flashing unbidden through his mind.

After several cups of port, he decided to go to the courtyard, even though part of him hated the prospect of seeing Blade strung up in such an undignified manner.

The setting sun threw the wall's shadow over the scaffold. The guards bowed as he passed, and he dismissed them. The assassin's chin was sunk onto his chest and his eyes were closed, but he opened them when the King approached. Kerrion stopped before him, and Blade raised his head to meet Kerrion's eyes with a gaze that made the King shiver.

"Come to gloat?"

Kerrion shook his head. "Far from it. I hate this."

"Why should you? You have always hated me."

"I do not."

"You should."

"Why? Because you killed my father? He was a bastard. I hated him."

Blade shifted, grimacing. "Then what are you doing here?"

"I came to tell you that I am sorry."

The assassin chuckled. "That has got to be a first. A king apologising to an assassin for executing him."