Sacred Knight of the Veil (3 page)

Armelin arrived a few minutes later, looking a little sheepish and ducking his head in apology. He served as her advisor on all things Cotti, a trusted Jashimari who had lived amongst the Cotti, and knew their customs and the details of their nobility, their weaknesses and tendencies. The presence of three such capable men calmed her further, and she did not miss their glances at her familiar. Inka was nesting, and rarely left her wild family unless Chiana was upset.

Chiana looked down at her clasped hands. "I have grave news, and I shall need advice from all of you."

Redgard's face reddened with anger when she explained what had happened. His eyes glittered and his lips compressed into a grim line. Insash paled, his dark eyes growing mournful and introspective as he lowered them to the floor. Armelin's visage brightened with interest as his quick mind weighed the problem. She turned to him first.

"Armelin, tell me of Trelath and Endor."

He shook his head with a grim smile. "Bad, both of them. Trelath is Armin's younger brother, and Endor is Ronan and Lerton's. Both have grudges against Kerrion, and would love to bring him down. Failing that, they'll settle for tormenting him with his wife's torture and his daughter's humiliation. Doubtless they have hatched this between them. Endor has probably promised Trelath Contara once he has Jashimari. What's more, they'll have help from their other brothers. Endor has two, Trelath five."

"How can they do this to the Cotti King?"

"Before Kerrion they couldn't. No other Cotti king would have cared if their wives were killed. They might have been offended, but no more than that. Kidnapping a son is high treason, but a wife is of no consequence in Cotti, even now. Kerrion's reforms have been unpopular, and slow to take effect.

"Kerrion prizes his wife highly, and, as you know, he has only one, with two sons from her. Usually this would be grounds for casting her aside, since Cotti women are expected to bear at least a dozen children. It is said that she is unusually dark, but she is always heavily veiled in public, so few have seen her face, although she is supposed to be very beautiful. But since Cotti kings have their pick of women, this alone would not explain her value to Kerrion."

Chiana made an impatient gesture. "Is there any law that can prevent Endor from visiting Kerra, and end his ruse without alerting him to Kerrion's warning?"

Armelin shook his head. "No, Regent. He's her half uncle. There's no possible reason to deny him if Kerrion gives his permission."

"What about delaying it?"

"A dread disease, possibly... If Kerra was ill."

"You are clutching at straws, Armelin." Chiana looked at Insash. "Any alternative to Kerrion's plan?"

Insash sighed, stroking his paunch. "I dislike it. The thought of sending the Queen out into the world... Perhaps we could hide her in the palace."

"Keep Kerra under lock and key? Her screams of rage would lead Endor right to her."

"He's very handsome," Armelin muttered.

"Who, Endor? What has that to do with anything?"

"I wouldn't advise you to let Kerra see him. She's young and romantic. I saw him once on the street. A veritable god with shining golden hair, eyes like liquid gold and a face that would shame a saint's statue. The physique of a young gladiator..."

"Thank you, Armelin, we get the picture." Chiana supressed a smile. Armelin did tend to ramble on, and embroidering was his favourite pastime. His description brought a rush of unwelcome memories of another man who fitted that description. The Cotti King. Kerrion's aquiline features left no doubt as to his familiar, and the years had not tarnished his golden good looks. Endor sounded like a youthful version of him, and if that was so, Armelin had a point.

"I doubt Kerra will see him. I do not intend that they should get that close. She cannot stay in the palace if Endor comes here. Is there any way to prevent him?"

"Short of a war, no," Armelin stated.

Chiana glanced at Insash, who shook his head. "The peace between Cotti and Jashimari requires our co-operation. We dare not defy them. If we refuse to allow Endor to visit her, he'll force Kerrion to send troops here. But Endor can't kill Kerrion's wife until he's captured Kerra, for once that bargaining chip is gone, Kerrion will retaliate. Perhaps we could disguise the Queen and hide her close by under heavy guard, in a country estate?"

Chiana snorted. "Endor will tear Jashimari apart to find her. He will torture whomever he pleases until he has the truth. He will find her."

"Only Kerrion can order Endor to do anything, and as long as his wife is a hostage, he cannot. Doubtless he's digging up the desert to find her, but until he does, his hands are tied."

"Then we have no other recourse."

"It would seem so," Insash agreed.

Chiana turned to Redgard. "A select team of your most trusted men?"

Redgard growled, "Regent, the dangers in this course of action... It is madness. Endor will hunt her like a deer. No one can make her disappear completely. It is impossible. Where could they take her, and how would they control her? She probably will not like the idea."

"Perhaps Shamsara could help us," Insash muttered, looking doubtful.

Chiana shook her head. "The Idol of the Beasts does not interfere in the lives of men."

"He did once," Redgard pointed out.

"That was special."

"But he did it for a reason," Insash said, brightening. "He saved a man who should have died, and who has since vanished without a trace." He raised his eyes to meet Chiana's. "Your husband."

She looked away, blinking. "He was the instrument."

"He still is. Why did Shamsara save him?"

"To prevent the bloodshed he foresaw."

"And what will happen if Endor takes Kerra hostage?"

"Civil war." She shivered.

"The streets will run with blood. The Jashimari will never be ruled by a Cotti prince. Endor cannot kill her, he will buy his safety with her life, but her suffering will... there will be endless attempts to free her."

"And Endor knows it. Even now, his troops are massing on the border. Once she is his captive, Jashimari's armies will be under his command. It would be a blood bath."

Insash nodded. "As Shamsara predicted. This is the fate that he saved your husband to prevent. It's time to find the Lord Protector."

"In case you have forgotten, he does not wish to be found, and even if we did, he would not want to help."

"Then we must persuade him, somehow." Insash glanced at Redgard, who inclined his head.

"I have no alternative to offer, Regent. We must find your husband."

Chiana rose and walked to the window, leaning on the ledge. "Why will none of you speak his name? Has it become a dirty word these days?"

She swung to face them. "Do not think to spare my feelings; I can manage them well enough. If he is the only solution, then I pity us. He is not a young man anymore, and who knows in what state he may be found? Are we so desperate that we will search the kingdom for a man who is, in all likelihood, lying drunk in a gutter somewhere? I know his faults, and even if we find him, which I doubt, I know he will not help."

"He will. Shamsara predicted it." Insash glanced at Redgard. "We must send out searchers immediately to every corner of the kingdom, leaving no stone unturned."

"Make sure you start with the taverns and whorehouses," Chiana muttered. "That is where you are most likely to find my husband. The great Lord Conash, Lord Protector of Jashimari." She paused, her eyes distant. "The Queen's Blade."

Insash stood up. "I shall see to it, Regent. I trust you will explain it to the Queen?"

Chiana forced a sour smile. "I shall, though doubtless my ears will be blistered afterwards."

Armelin cleared his throat. "But will... Lord Conash be able to deal with the Queen?"

Redgard shuddered. "I hate to think of what will happen between those two."

Chiana turned to Armelin. "You do not know my husband. If anything, I pity the Queen."

"Will she be safe with him?"

Redgard chuckled, and Chiana shot him a cold glance. "Completely, I assure you."

Armelin glared at Redgard. "I seem to have missed the joke."

"There is no joke," Chiana said. "My husband can be... temperamental at times, that is all."

"And he has little respect for royalty," Redgard added.

"But he's the deadliest assassin to have ever walked this land," Insash pointed out.

"Was," Chiana retorted. "Who knows what he is like after fifteen years?"

"We're entrusting the safety of our Queen to this man," Armelin said. "I know he was once in great favour with Queen Minna-Satu, and I know the legend of his deeds. But how do we know if he can still do what he must to save her?"

"There's only one way to find out," Insash stated. "We must find him."

"Finding him may be easy compared to persuading him to help us," Chiana observed. "We must come up with a solution to that problem too."

"Actually, it may not be so hard." Redgard rubbed his chin. "I think Lord Conash would do just about anything to prevent the ascension of a Cotti prince to the Jashimari throne."

"That's it!" Insash snapped his fingers. "The very message we must send him. I will see to it at once."

Chiana shook her head. "The chances of finding him in time are slim. We have only a moon phase, at most, before Endor arrives. Blade could be anywhere. He might not even be in Jashimari."

Redgard stood up. "We will succeed, Regent. If Shamsara predicted it, it is fated."

"Blade once told me that he would not be used by fate again."

"Your husband is a great man, but he is not a god."

Chapter Three

Darian looked up at the dirty sign hanging by one rusted chain above the door of a tavern. The Muddy Hole. Once more he wondered at the strange mission on which he, and many others, had been sent. Find the Queen's Blade, who had disappeared fifteen years ago, a master of disguise and a retired assassin to boot. This was a man so famous that tales about him were told to children to make them behave. He had killed the Cotti King in the middle of his army's camp and lived to tell the tale.

Tall stories alleged that his eyes were daggers, and he could strike you down with a glance, while wilder ones claimed that Shamsara had made him immortal. To top it all, he was a lord the late Queen Minn-Satu had much favoured. Why would such a man be found in a stinking tavern such as this, with floors awash with vomit and stale ale? Yet he had been instructed to search the lowliest taprooms and brothels first.

Taking a deep breath, he thrust open the creaking door and stepped into a dim interior, waiting for his eyes to adjust. Dusk had fallen outside, but the darkness inside rivalled the deepest pit of Damnation. Smutty lamps and torches did little to alleviate the gloom, and a pall of smoke hid the blackened ceiling. The stench was beyond identification. Possibly a mixture of musty sweat, sour wine, foul breath, rotten food, smoke and general decay.

The patrons sat at rickety, rough-hewn tables, or stood in dark corners, filling the air with the deep rumble of male voices. Darian glanced around at the bevy of faces, mostly hirsute and dirty, sharp-eyed and beaky nosed. Judging by the veritable flock of crows that roosted on the gables outside, birds of a feather really did flock together here. A few hounds slumbered under chairs, and two monkeys slept in the rafters. It did not seem a likely place in which to find a legendary assassin, but he pushed deeper into the throng. Two tendays of searching had taught him to be thorough, and the reward offered for finding his quarry sustained him.

A black-clad, grey-haired man slouched over a table caught his eye, and he move closer to study the man's face, then turned away when he glimpsed the small dog under the patron's chair. The description he had been given was detailed, leaving little room for error. Moving deeper into the gloom, he spied another likely looking man slumped over a table, his face buried in his arms. There was no sign of a familiar, and Darian moved closer.

The man wore black leather, and his long jet hair was caught in a thong at his nape. The bench opposite was empty, which was strange considering the fullness of the tavern, unless he was an assassin. Darian bent to peer at the man's face, but his arms hid it. As he reached out to touch the man's shoulder, a dagger appeared next to his throat, touching it coldly. Darian froze.

"My master does not wish to be disturbed," a voice rasped in his ear.

"And I don't wish to disturb him. Are you an assassin?"

"A good guess."

Darian turned to face his assailant. "There's no need to threaten me. I mean your master no harm."

The apprentice was no more than eighteen years old, with a thin, bony face, a thatch of dark hair and intense black eyes that glared from under lowered brows. His nose had been broken and healed crooked, and one ear had a nick missing from it. His dark garb covered his throat and clung to a bony frame.

Darian tried to ignore the dagger. "What's your master's name?"

"None of your business."

"Would it be Blade, by any chance?"

The apprentice sniggered. "Naw, it wouldn't."

Darian glanced at the sleeping man. "I'm looking for a retired assassin named Blade. Perhaps you could help me?"

"The Queen's Blade? What would he be doing in a place like this?"

"Do you know where he is?"

"No one does, fool."

"But you're an assassin..."

"I ain't his keeper."

Darian nodded, and the dagger pricked him under the chin. "Could you put that away? I'm not armed, and I won't bother your master."

The youth's eyes darted, then he lowered the weapon and pushed it into a sheath on his belt. "Beat it then."

Darian glanced at the comatose man again, wishing he would wake up and lift his head so he could see his face. This was the most likely prospect he had encountered, for the man was the boy's master and therefore an elder. If anything, he seemed a trifle young, but without seeing his face, Darian could not accurately judge his age. He turned to the boy.