The Queen's Blade (19 page)

"And you," Lord Durlan said. "Why do we have to come to this stinking hot place?"

"Because there are no spies here," Mendal retorted, his eyes raking the lord's portly form.

"So what is the plan?" Lord Mordon demanded. "Let us get on with this, I long to quit this company."

Mendal nodded. "We now know that the Queen does not plan to execute Kerrion as we had hoped. She keeps him alive for a reason, and I start to suspect that she will send him back to the desert. We cannot allow this. The war must continue, or we all face ruin."

"But how do we know that she talks of peace with him, and if she does, that he will agree? Perhaps we need do nothing, for nothing will come of it," Lord Bellcamp said. "If he agrees to peace, his people will cast him out and place his brother Lerton on the throne."

"Not if Lerton's life is threatened." Mendal became intent. "If the Queen sent Blade with Prince Kerrion, the threat to Lerton's life would prevent him from overthrowing Kerrion."

"Why Blade?" Javare asked. "Surely Kerrion has assassins?"

"They are not as good, and besides, what assassin do you know who would kill his own prince? A Cotti assassin would not do the deed, but Blade would delight in killing Lerton. Knowing this, and Blade's reputation, the mere threat to his life would be sufficient to silence Lerton, who, we hear, is fond of staying alive."

"So what is our course?" Lord Durlan enquired. "Let us not waste time arguing petty details."

"Kill Kerrion," Mendal said. "With him out of the way, the Queen cannot strike a truce, and that will put Lerton on the throne."

"The Queen can still threaten him with Blade," Mordon pointed out.

"Without Kerrion's help, Blade would find it difficult to assassinate Lerton, who is not one for coming to the front as Shandor did. I doubt that threat would work, and if Blade was sent to kill only him, another brother would be waiting to take his place, and more after him. Even if Blade succeeded in wiping out the entire royal family, he would be unable to stop the war. The assassinations would enrage the Cotti. No, the Queen needs Kerrion to make peace, and once he is gone, so will any hope of it be."

"That is it then," Lord Bellcamp declared. "We are agreed, Kerrion must die."

"And many will applaud that action," Mordon noted.

"Indeed," Mendal agreed. "All we need do now is hire an assassin."

"Pity Blade is not available," Mordon grumbled.

"Lord Conash," Mendal said, "is firmly in the Queen's employ. Only a fool would approach him."

"That is what I said." Lord Mordon rose and jerked his torch from the sconce, then headed for the door. "I shall make the arrangements."

Three nights after the dinner with Queen Minna-Satu, the sound of running feet in the corridor outside his room roused Blade. He grabbed the dagger wedged between the top of the mattress and the headboard and turned as his door burst open. Two guards entered, carrying torches. His manservant, looking rumpled and puffy-eyed, ran in and lighted the lamps.

The soldiers bowed, and one said, "Lord Conash, the Queen requires you at once."

Blade slid from the bed and pulled on his trousers and a shirt, not bothering to tuck it in. "What is the trouble?"

"An attempted assassination of Prince Kerrion."

"Attempted?"

"The assassin failed. He is dead."

Blade frowned. "So what must I do about it?"

"The Queen requires you."

"Yes, I am coming."

Blade followed the guards into Kerrion's brightly lighted bedroom, which was filled with soldiers. The Prince paced about like an angry lion, his tawny eyes glinting, and a black-clad man lay in a pool of blood. Blade turned away, covering his mouth as his stomach heaved. Several cruel spear thrusts had eviscerated the strange assassin. Kerrion stopped pacing and glared at the Queen's assassin.

"Squeamish, Blade? One of your own kind, eh?"

Blade glowered at the Prince. "What happened?"

"He tried to kill me."

"Obviously. Why are you not dead?"

"He tripped on the rug." Kerrion gestured. "The sound woke me up, and I hit him before he could cut me. Then I shouted for the guards, and they killed him."

"Pity."

"A friend of yours, was he?"

"No, but he could have been followed to his employer if he was not dead. Then we might have found out who hired him. A dead assassin is of no use at all."

"Better than a live one," the Prince retorted. "At least I am not the one lying in a pool of blood." He hesitated, glowering at Blade. "For a moment, I thought it was you."

"Then you would have been lying in a pool of blood, though not such a large one. I do not trip over rugs."

"How did he get in here?"

The assassin glanced around. "There is probably a secret passage somewhere in this room." He turned to a soldier. "Have you searched him?"

"No, My Lord."

"Then do it."

The search produced a pouch of gold and a blood-stained map with instructions written on it in a flowing hand. Blade studied it.

"The entrance seems to be behind those curtains." He pointed to the far side of the room, and two soldiers went over to pull the gold-trimmed burgundy velvet aside, revealing polished wood panelling. One panel was open, and a dark passage yawned beyond. The men entered it with their torches, but Blade shook his head.

"They will not find anyone down there. The assassin was given a map from the outside. He did not need any help getting here."

Kerrion eyed the bag of gold the soldier held. "They did not pay him very much, did they?"

Blade glanced at the bag. "That is just the down payment. Assassins do not get paid until the deed is done."

"My Lord," one of the soldiers said, "the Queen wishes a report as soon as you are ready."

Blade nodded. "Very well, I have seen enough here."

Two guards followed as he headed for the door, and Kerrion strode after him.

"I must see the Queen."

"What about?" The assassin stopped and turned in the doorway.

"This." Kerrion gestured to the slain assassin.

"I can tell her what happened."

"I have to speak to her."

Blade's eyes narrowed at the Prince's tone, then he shrugged. "Very well, if she consents."

The assassin led the way, and the guards fell in behind Kerrion.

Queen Minna-Satu paced around her gold-pillared lounge as Kerrion had done, clad in a flowing blue satin robe, her hair loose about her shoulders. She turned as Blade entered alone, leaving the Prince outside with the soldiers.

He bowed. "My Queen."

"Blade, what happened?"

"Someone sent an assassin to kill Kerrion."

"Who?"

"I do not know. Kerrion wishes to see you, he waits outside."

A flush stole into Minna's cheeks, and she glanced away, taking a moment to recover her composure. "Let him in."

The Prince entered and inclined his head to her. "Minna-Satu."

She nodded at him before turning to Blade again. "What can you tell me?"

He shrugged. "The assassin's name was Slash. He specialised in slitting throats. He was one of the better assassins, more experienced. He entered through the secret passage that leads to Kerrion's room. Someone gave him a map."

"You have it?"

He nodded.

"Let me see." Blade handed her the map, and she stared at it, becoming paler. "Lord Mordon."

"Is it his writing?"

"I would know it anywhere, I have seen it often enough on petitions and letters. How dare he?" She flung the map aside. "He will pay!"

"Why would he do it?"

She gestured, turning away. "He owns a large armouring business. An end to the war would ruin him. Obviously he suspects that I try to talk peace with Prince Kerrion. By killing him, he would end any hope of it."

"Do you think he acted alone?"

She shook her head. "I doubt it."

"Then you should arrest him, and find out who his collaborators are."

"No." Minna wandered over to a pile of gold-embroidered crimson cushions and sank onto them. Shista watched from her place by the windows, her eyes wide at the tension. "If I arrest him, he must go before the courts, and it will become public that I am protecting Prince Kerrion. The people still expect his execution any day. They will not be happy to see one of their lords punished for trying to kill an enemy Prince. There will be riots."

"But he must be stopped," Kerrion said. "Or he will try again."

"Killing one wolf will not stop the pack," Blade remarked. "We must find out who the others are."

"He will be punished," Minna stated. "And sometimes killing the leader does stop the pack, if they are clever. Blade, you will see to it."

"You want him dead?"

"Yes. I do not care who his collaborators are, his death will dissuade them."

"It may not."

"I will double the guard on the Prince, and place a man in his room."

Prince Kerrion stepped forward, frowning. "In view of this, I must ask you to return me to the desert. My life is in danger here, and if you do not intend to execute me, then send me to safety."

Minna turned to him. "No. The time is not right. You will be returned a moon phase from now, not before."

"Why? What are you waiting for? We have agreed that no treaty can be made between us, so there is no point in my staying here."

"I have decided when you will return," she declared, "and it will be in a moon phase, no sooner. I shall ensure your safety. Once Mordon is dead, the others will lose heart, for they will be lost without their leader."

"How do you know that he is their leader?" Blade enquired.

His question clearly surprised the Queen, who stared at him. "He must be. He is a senior lord, he drew the map."

Blade nodded, accepting this, for he knew little of politics. It was not his place to argue with the Queen, and he did not care if Kerrion lived or died, nor whether the war ended. The prospect of an assassination gave him a sense of purpose, and something to occupy him. It would require some planning, Lord Mordon was heavily guarded.

"Do you wish it to be quick or slow?"

She tried to hide a shudder. "Quick."

He bowed. "My Queen."

She waved a hand. "You may go, My Lord Conash."

After the assassin left, Minna turned to Kerrion. "Is there something else, Prince Kerrion?"

He looked away, unable to meet her eyes. "This is madness. Why keep me here, when you have no further use for me?"

"Are you in such a hurry to return to the desert?"

"If I am to keep my throne, I must do so soon. Lerton will be plotting against me in my absence. Every day I am away strengthens his position. In a moon phase he could declare me a traitor and usurp my crown. My people expect you to execute me, just as yours do. If I stay here too long and return unharmed, they will be angry and suspicious."

Minna studied her hands. "And is there nothing here that makes you want to stay?"

"How could there be? Everyone here hates me. I am the enemy. I am a prisoner, no matter how well I am treated."

She looked up at him. "I do not hate you."

Kerrion swung away to pace. "Then you are the only one. Do you think that keeping me here will change my mind? We have agreed that there is no hope of finding a way to make peace between us."

"Do you hate me?"

He stopped and turned to her. "No. But we are the rulers of two kingdoms at war. No matter what we may think of each other, we cannot be friends. Neither of us can afford to go against the wishes of our people, and start a civil war. You are in a stronger position than I, for your people do not have a horde of siblings with whom to replace you. I, at least, can promise to try to lessen the war effort, stop the atrocities. If my brother takes the throne, it will intensify."

"I do not wish your brother on the Cotti throne. Nor will I be satisfied with anything less than peace."

"You are a stubborn woman, true to your race. Yet your wishes can never come true, I am afraid."

Minna-Satu rose to her feet, her expression cold. "I bid you goodnight, Prince Kerrion."

He stared at her, stunned by her dismissal, then his eyes filled with anger. "I am no flunky for you to dismiss, Minna-Satu. Grant me the respect owed to my rank, if you wish civility from me."

"Your civility is optional. You are my prisoner, and have no right to demand anything from me."

"If you wish a lessening of hostilities between our kingdoms, it would be as well to start between the two of us. My tolerance for your games grows thin. This exercise in futility threatens my position amongst my people."

She glared at him. "Yet you have no option but to accept it, Prince Kerrion. You have no hope of escape or rescue. The only way you may return to your people alive is through my generosity, and you would do well not to forget that."

"I have not forgotten, and you would do well not to forget who I am. For the moment I am your prisoner, this is true, but once freed, I command the greatest army ever assembled. Do not imagine that all of my warriors are at your border. Half as many again fight trivial battles with invading desert nomads to the east and keep control of the mud people in the west. Should I choose to throw everything at your borders, you will not survive the onslaught. You remember the invasion of Ashtolon? All your border towns were wiped out in that offensive, and my father's army took land up to the Lelgala River."

"And my mother's army drove him back," she retorted.

"With huge losses, yes. This war has ever been thus. We take a little of your land beyond the mountains, then you push us back into the desert. Yet you have lost forever certain tracts of land to the east, have you not? Those lands have been settled by the Cotti and used to supply my armies with food. We have a foothold in your kingdom, and, in time, your army will fall. Is that not why you wish so desperately for peace?"

"No. My people will fight to the bitter end, and you will win nothing but rotting corpses and salted ground. I wish to put an end to this for the sake of the innocents, the widows and orphans, the cripples and dead children whose unmarked graves litter our lands. What is the point of fighting a war that neither of us can win?"