Read Sacred Knight of the Veil Online
Authors: T C Southwell
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Epic
The deep sand slowed him, and the bandit he had cut charged after him, tackled him around the legs and brought him down with a grunt. Blade twisted and stabbed the man in the shoulder, struggling to free himself before the others reached him. The brigand lunged at him, trying to pin him down. Blade slashed at his throat, but the man's up-flung arm blocked him. Blood splattered over the assassin, and his opponent growled and aimed a punch at his head.
Blade jerked aside, narrowly avoiding the blow, then two more men reached him and flung themselves into the fray. Blade found himself at the bottom of a scrum, three beefy men pinning him down. One gripped his wrist, and he stabbed with his other weapon in a desperate bid to ward off his attackers, his dagger sinking into flesh. A fist hit him on the chin, and lights flashed in his eyes as he sagged, stunned.
The men wrenched the daggers from his hands and twisted his arms behind his back. As they lifted him to his knees, the rest of the bandits gathered around, bringing lamps to shed light on the scene. His head sagged forward, and someone grabbed his wig to yank his head up. The glue parted, and the wig came away in the man's hand. He swore and flung it down, then grabbed Blade's hair and pulled his head up, so the light fell on his face.
After pause, a woman remarked, "Well, what have we here?"
Surprised, he opened his eyes and looked up. Several men flanked her, armed with crossbows that were aimed at his chest. The woman flicked back a mane of golden-streaked brown hair and glared at him with startling green eyes that held as much proud arrogance as Kerra's had first done. A loose man's shirt clad her slender form under a studded leather tunic, and a short ragged skirt revealed long, muscular thighs and calf-length boots. The men in the lamplight did not look pure Cotti, and he concluded that they were half breeds, born to Jashimari slave women.
The woman squatted down to study him, reaching out to peel the moustache from his lip. "You're not Cotti. What are you, Contara?"
Blade tried to shake his head, but a man still held his hair. "Jashimari."
She glanced around as her cohorts brought Minna and Kerra closer, then stood up to address the men in commanding tones. "Bind them, and see what valuables they have. I'll have a better look at them when the sun comes up."
The woman walked towards the tent, leaving the men to bind Blade's hands behind his back and tie his ankles together, removing the daggers from his wrist sheaths. They bound the queens and left them lying together, then joined the woman by the tent.
Minna twisted her head to look at Blade. "Are you all right, My Lord?"
He nodded. "A little bruised is all."
Kerra rasped, "Why did you not kill those bastards, Blade? Now we are at their mercy."
"I seem to recall telling you that I am not invincible, Kerra."
"Now what are we going to do?"
"Get free, hopefully."
"How?"
"When I have a plan, I will let you know."
Blade watched the group by the tent, some of whom seemed to be engaged in a heated argument with the woman. The bodies of the men he had slain were dragged to the tent and examined in the lamplight, others tended those he had injured. A scuffle broke out as one man tried to leave the group and head towards the captives, but the others held him back and the woman's strident commands deterred him. Blade deduced that the man wanted vengeance for a slain comrade, and did not wish to wait until morning.
Minna broke into his study. "These bandits are all half breeds. Kerrion told me about them. They call themselves the Free People, and hate Cotti."
"With good reason, I am sure."
"The fact that we are not Cotti should help us."
Blade shook his head. "I killed at least six of them, and wounded two or three more. I do not think they will spare me."
Shista padded over and stretched out beside Minna, her eyes wide with tension. Kerra glanced at the huge cat.
"Why did you not let Shista kill them, mother?"
"Because I do not want her to be killed. Like Blade, she is not invincible."
"We are going to die!"
"You are not," Blade said. "They will sell you."
"A fate worse than death."
"Hush, Kerra," Minna admonished.
Blade shot the girl a glare. "Perhaps, when you see me staked out in the sun and left to study my innards while I die, you will reconsider that statement. You will be sold to a lord or rich merchant, and your father will find you soon enough."
Blade turned his attention back to the bandits, who seemed to have settled their differences, and now sat around the tent, drinking his wine. Although they had set no guard over the prisoners, they were close enough to watch them just by glancing around, which they did frequently.
Kerra whispered, "Why do they have no familiars? Are they all Shunned?"
"No," Minna replied. "In Cotti, women and slaves are not allowed to have large familiars, and they are killed. That is probably what made these men run away from their masters and become bandits. The woman is cat kin."
"Then they are all the kin of powerful beasts? No wonder they are such a formidable bunch."
Blade rolled onto his back and closed his eyes, his head aching. The prospect of a painful death frightened him. He knew all too well the Cotti methods of torture that these bandits would undoubtedly employ. Now he cursed his foolishness in returning to try to free the queens with his crossbow. He should have known the bandits would expect such a tactic, and set an ambush. If he had stayed hidden, he might have been able to locate their horses, which were not far away, judging by the hoof beats he had heard earlier.
Then he could have stolen a horse and waited for an opportune moment to free the women. The bandits had used an old technique that normally would not have worked on him, forcing Kerra to call him to her aid. He tested the thongs that bound his wrists, but found them tight, as he had expected. The tiny dagger still concealed in his boot was out of reach, but even if he freed himself, they had little chance of escaping and more of being killed in the attempt. Since he faced certain death in the morning, however, the prospect still tempted him, and he twisted his hands, trying to stretch the leather. When that did not work, he rolled over to face Minna.
"I must get free. I need you to untie my hands," he whispered.
She glanced at the bandits. "We cannot escape. They are watching us."
"Just me. I may not succeed, but I would rather die trying to escape than be tortured to death in the morning."
"No, Blade." She shook her head. "This time I will not aid in your demise. You court death constantly, and it grieves me. Perhaps they will not kill you, else they would have done it already."
"They want to torture me, to see me staked out in the sand with my belly cut open and my entrails spread around. They await daylight so they may enjoy the spectacle."
"Even if I managed to untie your hands, which I doubt, considering how tight the thongs are, you are unarmed, so they would not have to kill you. They would merely beat you."
"There is a chance that I could reach their horses and steal one. If I did, I would return to free you at the first opportunity."
Minna smiled. "I do not doubt that, but I do doubt that you would succeed. Why did you not do that before, instead of coming back?"
"I was trying to reach my crossbow, so I could use it to pick them off one by one. It would have worked, but they set an ambush."
"And they were hurting me," Kerra interjected. "He would not leave me to suffer, mother."
Minna's brows rose, and she shot Blade a quizzical smile. "Indeed, My Lord?"
Blade snorted and shook his head, smiling at the girl's arrogant assumption. "Your daughter has a strange notion of who I am. At times she has seen me as a monster, and now she endows me with nobility I do not possess. I returned to free both of you for the sake of my payment, nothing more."
Minna glanced at Kerra, who frowned and looked away. "Kerra is young and full of romantic ideas, My Lord. But I do not doubt that her suffering had a hand in your decision. I know you to be a man who cannot abide torture of any kind."
"Had I been so concerned, I should have given myself up to end her torment. It is true that I dislike torture, particularly my own, but nor would I sacrifice myself to end hers, which was not so great, I think. What did they do, pull her hair?"
"And I will not see you suffer in this foolish attempt, Blade. I am certain that they have guards with their steeds. It is madness to try to escape now."
Blade frowned. "There will be no other opportunity. When the sun rises they will kill me."
"Perhaps, but there is a chance that they will not."
Blade opened his mouth to argue, then glanced around as Kerra muttered, "I will try to free you."
Minna frowned at her daughter. "You must not."
"I do not wish to see him put to death in some ghastly manner. If he thinks he can escape, let him try."
Blade rolled over and wriggled towards the younger queen, keen to accept her offer before Minna-Satu dissuaded her. He positioned himself with his back to her, and she squirmed closer until her bound hands touched his. Minna continued to berate her while she tugged at the cord, but Kerra ignored her mother. After several minutes of tugging and fumbling, however, she gave up.
"I cannot. The knot is too tight."
"There is a dagger in my boot, see if you can get it out."
Minna gave a little laugh. "Of course, Blade would never run out of daggers."
Kerra squirmed towards the assassin's boots, but before she could reach them, a bandit approached, ending their contortions. He eyed them, then bent to run his hands over Blade's boots, finding the weapon after a fairly long search. Straightening, he tucked the dagger into his belt and glared down at the assassin, then kicked him in the gut. Blade curled up with a groan as the man marched back to his companions.
Minna asked, "Are you all right, My Lord?"
"I have been better."
"I said they were watching us."
Blade grimaced, his gut aching from the blow, and let his head sag onto the soft sand. The freezing air chilled his skin, making him shiver, and the prospect of a painful death in the morning chilled his blood even more. He had seen the results of Cotti torture more than once, and found the mere sight of the victims nauseating. The prospect of being a victim filled him with dread, and he twisted his hands again, unable to accept such a terrible fate.
Shamsara had said that he may fail, and now it seemed certain. Perhaps the Idol had seen this eventuality, and knew he would not have to keep his promise even before he made it. Although he had failed to return Minna to Kerrion, he had freed her. Now the King would be able to find her, provided Trelath did not find her first. His only consolation was that if Kerrion did find them, Endor's plan would fail and Chiana would send his apprentice to kill the princes.
Once more fate had ill-used him, tempted him into this insane quest that may save the kingdoms from war, but would result in his death. Yet death had rejected him many times already, and there was a slim chance that it might again. He did not seek to avoid death itself, he had often courted a swift end to his pointless existence, but the pain involved in such a demise turned his blood cold. He only regretted that he would not find out if Shamsara would keep his promise. His exertions warmed him, and the cord cut into his skin, making it slippery with blood. Ignoring the pain, he persevered, straining and tugging at the leather thong until Minna-Satu frowned at him.
"Stop it, Blade. You are only hurting yourself."
Blade relaxed, biting his lip. "Like a cat in a trap, I would chew off my own hand to escape."
"I would hope that you are not as stupid as a wild animal. You cannot get free, and you do not know for certain that they intend to torture you to death. You are merely guessing."
He twisted his head to look at her. "I do not have to guess, My Queen. I know what they intend."
"Then pray that you are wrong, My Lord."
Blade gave up his futile struggle, privately agreeing with the Elder Queen, and shivered in the chill air as he waited for the dawn of his last day.
Chapter Twenty One
The sun rose with its usual suddenness, gilding the tops of the dunes and turning the blowing sand into a golden haze. As the light increased, their captors broke up their little party, and the green-eyed woman led them over. Her gaze flicked over the women, dismissing them as unimportant, and came to rest on the assassin.
"I'm Asrah, leader of this group. You've killed six of my men, and the rest want you dead, but I have yet to decide. Before I do, I want some questions answered. If you refuse, you'll die." She paused, studying Blade. "You claim to be Jashimari, but your skin is the wrong colour. Are you brown from the sun?"
"No, it is a skin dye. It washes off with soap."
She turned to the man beside her. "Untie him, and bring me soap and water."
The bandit cut Blade's bonds, and he sat up, inspecting his bloody wrists. The woman tossed him a water skin, a cloth and a bar of hard soap. "Prove it."
Blade washed his face, taking the opportunity to scrub the golden dye off his arms and chest as well. If he was going to die, he did not wish to look like a Cotti. Asrah squatted down to inspect him. In the daylight she looked older, in her thirties, her skin roughened by the sun.
"So, a full blooded Jashimari. We do not see many of your kind, except for slaves and our mothers. You killed six skilled warriors and wounded two more. What are you?"
Blade peeled off the leather patch that hid his mark, and Asrah's eyes widened.
"An assassin. I did not know assassins were fighters."
"We are not."
"You could have fooled me."
"We know how to kill, not fight."
Asrah glanced at the queens. "And these? Half breeds?"
"Only Kestra. Milla is pure blooded. Kestra is her daughter."
"How did you three come to be out here?"
"I was sent to free Milla by her brother in Jashimari, and Kestra came too."