Sacred Knight of the Veil (30 page)

The trader asked, "Did you kill him?"

"I think Mirtal did, but he didn't follow me, so he must be dead too."

"That's amazing."

"I'm sure he was expecting us."

The trader shook his head. "It's a pity he's dead. Do you know how much a fighter like that would be worth?"

The thug grunted and turned away, clearly more annoyed by the loss of his comrades than the trader. The merchant took a lamp from the wall and held it close to Kerra's face, examining her in its light.

"Very nice." He peered at her. "Damn! She's a bloody half breed. She has blue eyes."

He glared at the thugs as if it was their fault, and they frowned and glanced at each other. The one who had carried Kerra from the inn growled, "You picked her, and don't try to say we brought you the wrong girl, either. You should have checked her better."

The trader turned away with a muttered curse and replaced the lamp on its hook, then swung to glare at the hapless girl. She raised her chin, her eyes glittering with rage.

"Let me go, you bastard!"

He laughed. "Hark at it! Someone forgot to beat this one. On top of being virtually worthless, she's a harpy. I won't even be able to give her away."

"My father -"

The trader's hand cracked across the Queen's cheek, and Blade winced. The merchant had his back to the door, and the four thugs stood facing it, one holding Kerra. The odds were not in Blade's favour, but he had no reason to think that they would improve if he waited. The men probably had their horses here, ready to leave, and once they rode away he would be hard put to follow them and find her again. The trader was a fair distance away, standing in the corridor between the rows of stables.

The element of surprise was vital. Blade could not risk the possibility of discovery by trying to get closer, even though the stable was poorly lighted. Without his usual black garb, he would be visible to the four men who faced him as soon as he stepped into the doorway. The lack of his leather jacket with its chain mail also made him vulnerable, and he hoped he would not regret its lack before this night was over. He checked that his daggers were all where they should be, then pulled the two from his belt and held them ready as he stepped into the doorway.

One of the thugs yelled a warning, but Blade's dagger hit the trader in the back before he could turn. He coughed and sank to his knees as two of the men pulled the crossbows from their belts. Blade ran at them, flung the other dagger at one of the crossbowmen and ducked as a bolt thrummed past his head and thunked into the wall behind him. The crossbowman staggered back, the black hilt of a dagger protruding from his chest, and dropped his bow as he reached up to try to pull it out.

Blade released the daggers from his wrist sheaths and flung one at the second crossbowman, who fired a wild shot that missed Blade by a good hand span. The crossbowman fell with a gurgle, impaled through the eye. The other three Cotti fled, releasing Kerra with a rough shove that sent her to her knees. Blade stopped beside her and watched the thugs race out of the other end of the stable, one skidding and falling in his haste.

When they vanished around the corner, he glanced down at the kneeling queen, who buried her face in her hands. Blade went over to the fallen men and retrieved his daggers, despatching those who still writhed and moaned. The trader raised a pleading hand, his eyes wide with terror, blood bubbling from his lips.

"Mercy," he wheezed.

"I have none," Blade murmured as he slid the dagger into the man's heart, then he dragged the bodies towards a haystack against one wall. The two thugs were heavy, and the trader still twitched, but within a few minutes he had buried them in the hay.

Kerra rose to her feet, trying to control the soft sobs that racked her. She stumbled towards Blade as he took the lamp down and extinguished it, plunging the stable into darkness. Finding him, she tried to cling to him, but he fended her off, took her wrist and headed for the door.

"Blade... I thought you were dead..."

"Hush." He stopped just inside the doorway, listening.

The clatter of running feet came from the street, and he pulled her back into the darkness, clamping a hand over her mouth. It could not be the thugs returning, they were not brave enough for that, and, since their employer was dead, they had no reason to face him again. More likely, someone had summoned the Watch. He dragged the Queen deeper into the shadows, moving along the rows of stalls in which sleepy horses stirred.

The footsteps approached the doorway, and four men appeared in it, silhouetted against the moonlit street. A glimpse of their white tabards and the glint of armour confirmed his suspicions, as one of the soldiers raised a lamp and peered into the stable. He cursed as they entered the livery, spreading out to search the stalls. Reaching the end of the row, he found himself back at the haystack where he had hidden the bodies. He toyed with the idea of trying to slip out of the other door, where the thugs had gone, but his exit might be noticed and their suspicions aroused by his flight.

Instead, he pushed Kerra down on the hay and lay close beside her, silencing her whimper of protest with his hand.

"Lie still, and be quiet," he whispered.

Blade waited until the soldiers were almost on top of them. As the light from their lantern fell on him, he rolled on top of the Queen and pressed his lips to hers. Kerra stiffened in surprise, then her arms slid around him. Blade listened to the soldiers' footsteps stop nearby, and they chuckled. He raised his head and turned to frown at them, shielding the girl.

The men stood grinning, and the one with the lantern lowered it and said, "Sorry to disturb you, friend, but we were told there was a disturbance here."

Blade smiled. "Were we making that much noise?"

The soldiers laughed, and their spokesman shook his head. "I doubt it. Must be the wrong stable."

They turned and sauntered back the way they had come, chortling and swapping ribald comments. As the light of their lantern receded, Blade rolled off the Queen. His eyes adjusted to the darkness, and he found that he could see the girl quite clearly when he looked down at her. She lowered her eyes, and he chuckled.

"Enjoyed that, did you?"

She fiddled with the front of his shirt, refusing to look at him. "I was... surprised."

"I will wager so."

He started to get up, but she gripped his shirt. "They may come back."

"I doubt it." He studied her, wondering what strange sensations his proximity sent through her, responses he had never had, nor ever would experience. Sometimes he longed to know what it was like to have those desires, but more often he put such useless thoughts from his mind.

Kerra glanced at him through her lashes. "Have you kissed many women?"

"Masses."

"Liar."

He smiled. "Why would I want to kiss a woman, Kerra?"

"What about Chiana?"

"The same applies."

"You seem quite good at it."

His brows rose. "And you are judging me against...?"

"No one. That was my first kiss. It is just... it was nice."

"I am so glad to be able to provide you with a little entertainment. Necessity was my reason for trampling upon hallowed ground, as it were, and not your pleasure."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Your first kiss should have been with a boy your own age, not me."

"I am glad it was you. You may do it again if you wish."

"Indeed?" He chuckled. "Thank you for the invitation, but I do not wish to."

Blade tried to rise, but she held onto his shirt. He sensed that part of the reason for her clinging to him was for reassurance after her ordeal, but he had little patience with such things, and growled, "Let go. I am not giving you kissing lessons, and we are lying on top of three dead men. It bothers me, even if it does not bother you."

Kerra released him with a gasp and scrambled to her feet, while he lay in the hay and grinned up at her.

She frowned. "Liar. It does not bother you at all, does it?"

"I shared a bed with your grandfather after I killed him, and he got quite cold before I left."

"If you are trying to make me dislike you, it is not working. My grandfather was a monster, by all accounts."

"True. But I remember just a couple of tendays ago, you called me a monster because I told you I could kill a woman. I am still the same man, yet now you want me to kiss you."

Kerra rubbed the side of her face where the trader had hit her. "I know that. I am not a fool."

"Then why are you trying to flirt with me? It is quite impossible to seduce me, you know." He stood, brushing straw from his trousers. "The most experienced courtesans have tried and failed, so do not expect to succeed."

"I was not trying to seduce you!"

"Liar." He chuckled. "You thought that your charms would be irresistible to a mere commoner. Who could resist the flirtations of a young virgin queen? Not many, I will grant you, but certainly an old, bitter eunuch like me."

"You kissed me."

Blade stopped brushing at his clothes and glanced at her. "I had a good reason." He turned and strode towards the stable door, and Kerra trotted to catch up.

"I thought you might have enjoyed it too."

"Not as much as you, apparently."

"But you did?"

He shot her a frown. "It was not unpleasant. Why do you ask?"

"I just want to know."

"Well, now you do, so can we drop the subject?"

Blade stopped in the livery's doorway and glanced up and down the street to make sure it was empty, then marched back the way they had come. Kerra caught up and trotted beside him to the inn, which he found quiet and dark, as he had hoped. Had it been swarming with soldiers summoned to investigate the death of the erstwhile kidnappers, he would have been forced to abandon their belongings.

Kerra waited outside the room while he collected the bags, stepping over the bodies that lay in congealing pools of blood. Fortunately, the innkeeper had not bothered to investigate the earlier commotion, apparently not wishing to be involved in whatever had transpired under his roof. Woman snatching was probably a common occurrence here, and obviously he did not expect anyone to have been killed in the process.

The innkeeper would be surprised by what he found in the morning, but by then Blade planned to be far away. Leaving a few coins to pay for the room, he went across the road to the livery where he had stabled the horses and saddled them, leaving money to pay for their keep. Men who had been paid for their services were less likely to describe him to the soldiers who would search for him in the morning.

They left the town, whose name he had already forgotten, at a brisk pace, putting as much distance between them and the place as quickly as possible. By the time the sun rose, Kerra slumped in her saddle, yawning, but Blade carried on until noon. At dusk, they continued until the Queen grew tired again, then stopped for the rest of the night.

By the following morning, they had caught up on lost sleep, and set off at dawn as usual. According to Blade's map, there was nothing until the next town, seven days ride away and further to the south. He resisted the temptation to veer south, and kept to his chosen route, two days ride from Jadaya. In the desert, people took the most direct route from one oasis to another. To wander off into the arid wasteland invited disaster, and the Cotti knew better than to do it.

Even armed with a map and a compass, a person could become confused and lost, and wander around until their water ran out. Some Cotti called this desert madness, when the shimmering mirages appeared real, and led unwary travellers on fruitless, fatal quests for illusionary water. Blade had made sure that the pack horse carried plenty of water and grain, since the only thing he dreaded more than getting lost was being forced to walk through the deep sand, which sapped a person's strength so fast that one day's journey would exhaust them.

Kerra adapted well to the heat and dryness, perhaps due to her Cotti blood, but Blade found the temperature enervating, and the dry air burnt his throat. His dislike for the desert grew each day, and his resentment of Shamsara with it. As far as he was concerned, he was on a wild goose chase through an arid furnace, and he did not enjoy it. His short temper kept Kerra silent, and he endured the ordeal with ill-concealed rancour.

When he spotted a distant clump of palms one afternoon, he consulted the map with a frown, wondering if he had become lost after all. According to the map, no such oasis existed, and since they did not spring up overnight, he found its appearance worrying. He turned towards it, glad to find water and shade even if it was not on his map. A nagging doubt made him halt the horses some distance away and turn to Kerra.

"Send Myasha to those trees and ask him what is there."

Kerra grinned, delighted to have work for her familiar, and called the bird down from his lofty vigil. The direfalcon landed on her wrist, and she stroked his snowy breast while she communed with him. The raptor took off at her behest and soared towards the oasis, leaving them to wait on the stamping horses. He returned within a few minutes, and she bent to listen to his silent message. Familiars communicated with mental pictures and shared sensations, and the knack of understanding them took practice. When she raised her head, she looked puzzled.

"He says that there are men there, wearing metal."

"Soldiers." Blade gazed at the oasis with narrowed eyes. "What colour?"

She glanced at the bird. "Eye colour. Blue."

"How many?"

Kerra cocked her head, and Myasha hissed. "He cannot count. A few."

Blade held up his hand. "This many?"

"More."

The assassin shifted in his saddle. "What are soldiers doing way out here?"

"Maybe they are just passing through?"

"That place is not on the map, nor is it on any route. That in itself is strange, for oases are precious." He slid from his saddle and stretched his legs. "We will camp here. I will go there tonight and see what is going on."

"Why not now?"