Sacrifice: The Queen's Blade (7 page)

"We shall see whether King Kerrion decides to join with the Contara or fight against them. Either way, the city will be conquered. Do either of you think, for one moment, that he will allow me to live? I have killed his father and his brother, humiliated him publicly and privately. I can assure you, no matter what I do, he will hunt me down."

He paused, gazing at the Queen. "You speak of someone to raise your child, but I am afraid I will not be available. Then again, what is to stop Kerrion from taking her back to the desert and raising her there as merely his daughter? A pawn to be married off to some Cotti lord when the time is ripe? Then Jashimari will be his, and there will be no more queens."

"You are wrong," Minna-Satu said. "He will respect his daughter's inheritance. He will withdraw his forces, and the Endless War will finally be over. Shamsara, Idol of the Beasts, has predicted it."

He shrugged. "Perhaps. But you and I will not live to see it."

"I shall not, that is certain, but you may be spared. In his eyes, I am the murderer. It is I who ordered his father and brother's death. You are blameless. This is the way of assassins, here and in the Cotti lands. By the time he reaches Jondar, I shall already have paid the price, and his daughter will be Queen. My army will not fight him, for he is the father of their Queen, and so, the war will end."

"You know him so well..." Blade murmured, turning away to stroll over to the windows once more. He stroked the sand cat who slept by the wall, and Shista started a deep, rumbling purr. "But why take that chance? He has already tried to kill me. Who do you think sent the assassin into the border camp? Wed Chiana to a lord who will survive your optimistic outcome, then your daughter will have a father to raise her, since her natural father cannot."

"No. It will be you."

Blade leant on the window ledge and gazed down at the garden, where the first buds burst from bare branches and delicate shoots pushed up through melting snow. After some consideration, he said, "Then there is nothing more to be said. I am singularly indifferent to the matter. Since you have already discussed it with the guild, I will accede to your wishes.

"I must point out, however, that your threat of charging me with treason if I had refused means little to a man who expects to be dead within the moon phase. You once asked me for my help, that I should stand by you in your time of need, and so I shall, as I agreed. If Chiana is willing to become such a young widow, that is her concern or yours, but certainly not mine."

Minna glanced at Chiana, who stood rigidly expressionless. "She will be content with her lot, whatever it may be. Her sacrifice will mean much to the Jashimari people. They will need a brave leader when I am gone. I hope that you can find it in your heart to be kind to her, in return for her loyalty to me and to her people, Blade."

He turned from the window, his wintry gaze coming to rest on Chiana's bowed head. "Her sacrifice is a matter of complete irrelevance to me, My Queen. People live and die by their own rules, or those that a higher authority imposes upon them. I have made no demands of her, and therefore she has no right to claim charity from me. I see no reason to treat her any differently once a piece of paper has been signed. If she is unhappy with this, then she has only you and herself to blame."

"You are a harsh man, Lord Conash, even more so than I thought," Minna murmured. "However, in the purest sense, you are right. She will make no demands upon you other than the respect that should be accorded her rank once she is your wife, and a certain degree of civility on your part would not go amiss. You will escort her to public functions and acknowledge her as your wife. You will support her from your estate and keep her in a manner befitting her rank. Other than that, no requirements will be imposed upon you."

He inclined his head, meeting Chiana's glance with a scornful stare. "As you wish, My Queen."

"Good. The ceremony has been arranged. We have no time to waste. Unfortunately, since you are a sacred Knight of the Veil, the High Priestess must perform it, and she has been summoned. You may both go and find something more suitable to wear."

Blade stormed out without bowing to the Queen, his back rigid with indignation and anger.

Chiana hesitated, facing the Queen. "He is angry."

"Of course. What did you expect?"

"I did not expect him to be quite that angry. I think he would have refused, if he did not expect to die when Kerrion comes."

Minna reclined on her cushions, clasping her belly. "Probably. A man such as he does not like to be trapped, no matter how tenderly, and such emotions are wasted upon him at the moment."

Chiana lowered her gaze to her twisting hands. "Do you think he will change?"

"Perhaps he can be persuaded to, but I somehow doubt that he will do it of his own free will."

"Do you think Kerrion will let him live?"

Minna grimaced, making a helpless gesture. "I do not know, Chiana. Perhaps it will be up to you to persuade him. Blade will never ask for mercy."

"He has none to give, why would he expect any?"

"Precisely." The Queen nodded. "But Kerrion is cut from a different cloth. He does not harbour the hatred that Blade does."

Chiana bowed her head, then prostrated herself and left the Queen alone with her thoughts and the faint stirring of life in her belly.

As Blade entered his rooms, he flung his tunic in the direction of the clothes rack, missing it altogether. Jayon looked up from his seat by the window, putting aside a book to rise and approach the assassin, who pulled off his shirt and flung it after the tunic with equal vigour and inaccuracy. Jayon glanced at the discarded garments.

"What's wrong?"

Blade glared at him. "I'm to be married."

"You are?" Jayon stared at him, astounded. "You don't seem very pleased about it."

"I'm not! Why should I be? The Queen has ordered it. I have no choice." He growled and flung open the cupboard doors. "Why she has to pick on me, I don't know."

"But why?"

"A certain woman needs to attain a higher rank, and I'm conveniently suitable and available."

"But not willing."

Blade glowered at him, throwing several shirts onto the bed. "Obviously not."

Jayon suppressed a smile and sat on the bed next to the pile of shirts. "So who is the lucky girl?"

"I wouldn't call her lucky."

"No, I suppose not. Still, who is it?"

"Chiana."

"The chief advisor?" Jayon's brows disappeared under his fringe. "I thought you didn't like her?"

Blade swung on him, scowling. "I never said that."

"You treat her worse than a servant. Do you like her then?"

"I'm ambivalent. I treat everyone badly. Haven't you noticed?"

Jayon sighed, folding his arms. "I had, actually. It's a good thing that she likes you."

"Chiana?" Blade stared at him in astonishment. "She hates me."

Jayon chuckled. "On the contrary, she feels a lot for you." He raised a hand when Blade opened his mouth to refute this. "Allow me to know a little more about women than you do. I've had a few sweethearts in my time. I know the signs. I've seen the way she looks at you, especially when you're unaware of it, as well as her concern for you, the way she follows your progress so closely -"

"She's spying for the Queen."

Jayon ignored him. "But especially the way she's more deeply hurt by your barbed remarks than anyone else. I thought you knew. You must be blind not to."

"I have no interest in such things. Why would I concern myself with them?" He picked up a folded shirt and hurled it across the bed.

"Well..." Jayon looked uncomfortable, watching Blade demolish his wardrobe. "You do still have feelings."

"No I don't." Blade held up a black shirt and pulled it over his head, then selected a black leather jacket from the cupboard.

"Of course you do," Jayon argued, picking up a short white jacket with silver embroidery on the shoulders, sleeves and lapels. He held it out. "Wear this, it's your wedding, for God's sake."

Blade eyed the jacket. "No cause for celebration, I assure you. A mere formality, that's all."

"Do it for Chiana. Have you never done something to make another person happy, other than your clients?"

Blade hesitated. "A long time ago." Jayon waited for him to elaborate, and eventually he murmured, "When I was a child, but not since then."

"And did it make you feel good?"

Blade shrugged, looking resentful. "I suppose so. But the Cotti took all that from me."

"No, you took that from yourself. The Cotti mutilated you and murdered your family, but you're the one who turned your heart into stone."

The assassin frowned, taking the jacket. "Who told you that?"

"About your family?" He shrugged. "Chiana."

"So, now you gossip about me behind my back. Everyone does, it seems. The Queen must have told Chiana, who told you. I suppose the whole city knows now." He pulled on the white jacket.

"No, not with a black shirt," Jayon protested. "Here, wear a white one." He held out a cotton shirt.

Blade growled and snatched it from him. "What are you, an authority on court fashion now?"

"I have a better sense of style than someone who has worn nothing but black all his life." He watched Blade put on the shirt and jacket, which reached to the top of the high-waisted black leather trousers that hugged his slim hips. Blade tugged at it, frowning.

"I feel like a fop."

"You look very dashing."

Blade sighed. "I don't really care, but I suppose I'm expected to wear all these damned ribbons as well." He opened a drawer and took out the blue-green strip of satin that was the Queen's favour, putting it around one shoulder, then lifted a golden medallion on a white satin ribbon and hung it around his neck.

Jayon's eyes widened. "You're a sacred Knight of the Veil?"

Blade grimaced. "Afraid so."

"You've been to the sacred river?"

"They almost drowned me in it."

"What's it like?"

The assassin shrugged. "Fizzy."

"Here, this is not worn like that." Jayon pulled off the Queen's favour, smoothed it and pinned it to Blade's jacket. The assassin scowled and looked away, irritated by all the fuss. Jayon stood back to admire his handiwork, eyeing the black leather trousers. "It needs something else." He dug in the cupboard and produced a pair of cloth trousers embroidered with a silver design down the hips, but Blade held up a hand.

"No, that's enough, you're not turning me into a complete dandy."

"All right." Jayon tossed the trousers aside. "At least a belt." He held out an ornate, silver-studded belt, and Blade buckled it on with ill-concealed disgruntlement.

"Happy now?" Blade demanded, and Jayon nodded, smiling. The assassin shot him a glare. "If anybody says that I look like an idiot, you're going to pay."

"Nobody will say that, My Lord," a feminine voice stated behind him.

Blade spun around to find Queen Minna-Satu standing in the doorway, two handmaidens flanking her. Jayon prostrated himself, and Blade bowed.

"My Queen."

Minna walked closer, studying him. "You look very handsome, Blade."

"That was not my intention. Jayon seemed to think this suitable attire for the ceremony."

"It is. Jayon has good taste." She glanced at the kneeling boy. "You may rise."

"You have not met Jayon, My Queen." Blade gestured to the patrol leader. "He is the one who found me in the desert."

"Is he?" Minna eyed Jayon with renewed interest. "For which he should be rewarded." She pondered. "The rank of commander, perhaps? And an Order of... Merit, do you think?"

"Stupidity may be more appropriate."

"How very uncharitable of you, Blade. You think him stupid for saving you?"

Blade shot Jayon a dark glance. "Certainly for enduring my company."

"He deserves a medal for that too, for tolerance, I would say. But an Order of Merit will have to do." She perched on the edge of the bed. "There is a slight delay. The High Priestess has just arrived, and must examine Chiana before the ceremony."

Blade frowned. "Examine her?"

"To ensure that she is a maiden, My Lord. Only a maiden may wed a sacred Knight of the Veil. By marrying you, she becomes a priestess."

"I see." He turned away, gazing out of the window. "Did you come here just to tell me this, My Queen?"

"No, I also came to ensure that you were not wearing that tatty black outfit, comely though it is. But I see that you have someone who knows something about the art of dressing." She hesitated, studying his stiff back. "Are you angry with me?"

He faced her, frowning. "No. It is a matter of no consequence. As with many other things, I do not care. It is merely a formality, a piece of paper and a religious ceremony that names Chiana as my wife. After that, we go our separate ways."

"It is a pity you feel that way. Chiana sacrifices a lot, while you are untouched."

"That is her choice."

Minna sighed and levered herself to her feet, her handmaidens taking her elbows to steady her. "I ordered her to do it. She had no more choice than you in the matter."

"Then it was your choice."

"One that I did not wish to make, but was forced to, out of necessity. At least you might show her a little kindness. I ask you again, for her sake."

His brows rose. "You know that I have none to give, as does she. I shall accord her the respect that her rank requires, no more."

"You are truly a harsh man."

"I make no other pretence, My Queen."

"Indeed." She turned and walked to the door. "You will be summoned when the time is right."

When Blade strode into the great audience hall where he had been elevated to the rank of lord only a few moons ago, he found it curiously empty. A few senior advisors stood around in muttering groups, Mendal amongst them. All were elderly, and most were men. Only a few matronly women stood with them. They wore bland, disinterested expressions, and were evidently there at Minna's behest. Hissing torches cast their light into the gold, filling the great hall with flickering radiance. Six young virgin priestesses stood before the throne, clad in gossamer, sleeveless white gowns that barely hid their nakedness. Serpentine gold bracelets clasped their upper arms, and matching chains encircled their slender waists. Delicate leather sandals shod their feet, and silver anklets jingled when they moved.