The Queen's Blade Prequel II - God Touched (6 page)

The following
day, he visited the armourer who had made his daggers and ordered a
pair of boot blades, an assassin's traditional weapon. Once they
had been used for duels, but that practice had been stopped. Now
they were mostly for self-defence, which was their original
purpose. If a group of men pursued an assassin, seeking vengeance
or merely satisfaction, their prospective prey could don the blades
for a better chance of survival. Using them effectively, however,
took a great deal of skill. The moves were based upon the Dance,
but somewhat different. Since he could not dance now, or at least,
not properly for a while, when he collected the blades three days
later he practiced the fighting moves employed whilst wearing boot
blades.

Each day, he
went to Lilu's room and watched her from a neighbouring rooftop,
assuring himself that she was all right. He had not seen her emerge
since he had brought her home, even though he had spent quite a bit
of time watching her, and his concern grew. He despised it, but
could not deny it. Five days had passed, and she must be running
out of food.

Four urchins
chased a skinny dog down the street, shrieking and throwing stones,
and a beggar cursed them when they tripped over him in the gutter.
Two firebirds courted on a neighbouring rooftop, bowing to each
other with purring calls, their flame-hued tails spread. A grey
dove nested in a chimney close to them, watching them with worried
brown eyes. The shack Lilu dwelt in was one of many that lined the
narrow street, backing onto run-down houses with sagging slate
roofs and peeling paint. The entire area was impoverished,
bordering the slums and the garbage dump beyond, where he had spent
seven days so long ago.

The sun dipped
below the rooftops, withdrawing its warmth and light, and he
sighed, frowning with annoyance. Sliding off the roof, he landed
with a thud behind a hag's vegetable barrow, making her jump.
Ignoring her myopic glare, he ambled across the road, where urchins
picked pockets and beggars held out grimy hands.

Blade
hesitated in front of the door, every particle of his being wanting
to leave, but the despised concern drove him to tap on the
wood.

“
Go away!” a hoarse shout came from within, and he almost did.
Two steps from the door he swung back, and this time banged on
it.

“
Bugger off! I have a knife!” Her bellow was even
louder.

“
Lilu.” He coughed, clearing his throat. “It's
Blade.”

The door was
yanked open so forcefully that a wind blew past him, and he
staggered back as the ragged whore engulfed him in a rib-cracking
embrace. Blade narrowly avoided stepping in something putrid and
sitting down in the dirt, and tried to pry her arms away.

“
Get off me!” he said.

Lilu buried
her face in his chest and wept. Blade glanced up and down the
street at the curious pedestrians who had paused to stare at him
and pushed her into the room, kicking the door closed. Still she
clung to him, pinning his arms to his sides, and he freed them with
a jerk, hurling her back against the bed. She sagged, sniffing, and
he stared at the ravaged ruin of her face. Blue bruises ringed her
eyes, mottled her lips and covered her flattened nose. The assassin
thought he had never seen such a nauseating sight, and looked away.
She wiped her nose, then covered her face and wept.

“
Stop it,” he said, “or I'll leave.”

She hiccupped
and gulped, rubbed her face on her sleeve and forced a wan smile.
“It's good to see you. I've missed you so much. I'm glad you came.
I have wine.”

Blade stepped
aside when she headed for a cupboard, staying out of her reach. She
turned with a bottle of cheap wine that he knew tasted more like
vinegar, and he held up a hand.

“
No, that stuff is vile.”

Her face fell,
and she looked so desperate that his anger rose again, and he
headed for the door.

“
No!” She rushed at him. “Wait! Blade!”

The assassin
slipped out before she could grab him and slammed the door in her
face, stepping into the shadows as she yanked it open again. He
ignored her desperate calls and turned into an alley, at the end of
which, he knew, was a shabby taproom that the local beggars
frequented. The soggy door creaked when he dragged it open, and he
banged on the scarred counter until a man came over with a lopsided
leer and an angry scowl. The bartender eyed him, clearly uncertain
of whether he was an assassin or just a man clad in black. Blade
ordered three bottles of the best wine and paid a golden for
something he hoped was drinkable.

Back at Lilu's
room, he shoved open the door, which he knew was now unlocked, and
kicked it shut behind him. She lay on the bed, and looked up in
alarm, her eyes wide. A hesitant smile twisted her swollen, scabbed
lips, and she sat up and swung her legs off the bed. Blade banged
the bottles down on the table and eased himself onto the rickety
chair, which creaked.

Lilu gulped
and coughed. “You came back.”

“
I went to get some decent wine,” he said, looking
away.

“
Thank you.”

“
Are you going to pour it, or sit there gaping at
me?”

Lilu went over
to the cupboard and took out two pewter cups while Blade pried the
cork out, and he filled them. She dragged a box closer and perched
on it, gazing at him. He handed her a cup, which she took with
trembling hands.

Blade scowled
at her. “Who did that to you?”

She fingered
her crushed nose. “A customer.”

“
Why?”

“
I... I stole his money.”

“
Then you deserved it.”

“
He almost killed me.” She leant forward, her eyes intent.
“Someone carried me home that night and left me on the
bed.”

Blade sipped
his wine. “That was nice of them.”

“
Yes, it was. Thank you.”

He snorted.
“It wasn't me.”

“
I know it was.”

“
Then you're an idiot.”

She sipped her
wine, wincing. “This is good.”

“
I won't drink that rat's piss you have.”

“
No, I expect you can afford the good stuff, like
this.”

He shrugged.
“It's tolerable.”

“
Why did you help me? And how did you find me?”

“
I didn't. How would I? What do you think, that I've been
following you around or something?”

She lowered
her eyes. “Perhaps it was a happy coincidence.”

“
Unlikely.”

“
I don't know of anyone else who would have helped
me.”

“
I wouldn't have, either.”

“
All right.” She looked at him. “Have it your way, but I know
it was you.”

“
Don't delude yourself with idiotic imaginings.”

“
I hope you didn't hurt your leg doing it. I'm not that
light.”

His eyes
narrowed at her clumsy ploy. “I'm sure it was some stout lad with a
heart of gold or a crotch full of lust, who probably made use of
you before he left.”

She grimaced.
“You're being vile.”

“
When am I not? And yet you seek to credit me with a charitable
act.”

“
I know who you really are.”

“
Indeed? Who am I, really?”

“
A good man.”

Blade
chuckled, shaking his head. “You'd see good in a murdering rapist
if he patted your bottom and bought you a drink.”

She sighed.
“How have you been?”

“
Tolerable.”

“
Are you dancing again?”

“
No.”

“
You're not limping.”

Blade sipped
his wine. “And you're not working. What are you eating, the
curtains?”

“
How do you know I'm not working?”

“
Because no man in his right mind would rut with you
now.”

She looked
down at her wine, fiddling with it. “I have a little food
still.”

“
Good, I'm hungry.”

Lilu stifled a
sob.

Blade smiled.
“Aren't you going to offer your guest something to eat? You asked
me to visit you, and I've even provided the wine. The least you can
do is offer me a meal.”

Jumping up,
she wrenched open a cupboard and took out a hunk of mouldy bread
and an equally foetid chunk of cheese, banging them down on the
table. “There. Eat.”

“
That's disgusting.”

Her face
twisted, and she turned away. “That's all I have.”

He sighed.
“I'm not eating that. Even the rats wouldn't eat it.”

“
I'm sorry.”

Blade drew a
silver from his money pouch and banged it on the table. “Go and buy
us something for dinner. The hag with the barrow across the road is
selling hot pies.”

She looked at
him, her eyes alight, then her face fell. “Won't you buy it for us,
please?”

He raised his
brows. “Now you expect me to not only pay for it, but fetch it,
too?”

“
Please.” Her eyes darted, and a hunted look invaded
them.

He leant
closer. “What are you scared of?”

“
Him.”

“
Oh, him.” He sat back, considering her. “Your erstwhile
client.”

“
Yes. He promised to kill me.”

“
And you think he's standing outside the door, waiting for
you?”

“
Maybe.”

He snorted.
“You're being idiotic.”

“
He knows where I live. The last two nights he's been banging
on my door, promising to kill me if I come out.”

“
Has he now?” Blade frowned at the door, wondering if she was
lying.

“
Yes. I thought it was him when you knocked. I don't know why
he hasn't come tonight.”

“
I take it he didn't get his money back when he beat
you.”

“
No. I hid it.”

“
At the whorehouse?”

She nodded,
sipping her wine.

“
Foolish. You should have given it back. How much was
it?”

“
Five goldens.”

“
No wonder he's angry,” he said. “What do you need so much
money for? You pay, what, a silver a moon for this shithole, and
three coppers a day for food? Are you saving up for a
mansion?”

“
No, I...” She hesitated, shooting him an uncertain look. “I
have children.”

Blade cursed
and jumped up. “Gods! You stupid trollop! How many?”

“
Two...” She gulped, watching him with wide eyes. “A boy and a
girl, five and three years old. And...”

“
What?”

“
Another... on the way.”

Blade stared
at her, wanting to quit the smelly shack and her hopeless, fawning
desperation. He preferred the woman who had hit him with a broom,
but the fire had gone out of her. The assassin sank down on the
chair again, bracing himself when it wobbled.

“
Presumably you have no idea who the father is?”

“
Not this time, no.”

“
Don't you... take herbs, or something?”

“
They don't always work.”

Blade glanced
away, finding it hard to look at her battered face. “So you were
just going to hide in here and starve, and let your children
starve, too.”

“
No, I was hoping he'd give up and go away.”

He snorted.
“Fat chance. Five goldens will keep him coming back, unless he's
rich.”

“
He's a drover.”

“
And you think he's outside, right now?”

“
He might be.”

Blade stood up
and loomed over her. She cowered and raised her hands, her eyes
wide. His brows knotted. “What, you think I'm going to hit you now?
I should. So help me, Lilu, if you don't wipe that look off your
face and stand up straight, I'll leave right now and you'll never
see me again. Get up!”

Lilu rose,
trying to school her features, although her chin wobbled and her
eyes shimmered. Blade scooped up the silver, gripped her arm and
dragged her to the door, pulling it open. The hag stood at her
barrow across the street, and a few urchins played tosspot in the
gutter. He glanced around, pressed the coin into Lilu's hand and
gave her a shove that sent her staggering into the road.

“
Go and buy us some bloody food, now!”

The whore
cringed, her eyes darting, but scuttled across the street to the
barrow and haggled with the crone, limping back with two pies
clutched to her bosom. Blade stood aside, scanning the road again
before banging the door closed and turning to Lilu, who ripped open
the paper packet and tried to stuff an entire pie into her mouth.
Blade grabbed her arm and yanked it out, bits of pastry protruding
from her bruised lips.

“
Don't act like a starved dog.” He took the food and found two
plates in the cupboard, banging one down in front of her. “Eat it
slowly, or I'll throw it away.”

Lilu
controlled herself with an obvious effort, and took reasonable
bites while Blade nibbled his. It was a cheap repast, and the meat
inside, he mused, was probably rat or cat, but it was hot and
nourishing. When she finished hers, he pushed his plate across to
her.

“
I'm not hungry anymore,” he said. “The sight of your face
makes me ill.”

“
Thank you,” she mumbled, blinking.

Blade sipped
his wine. “Where are your children?”