The Queen's Blade Prequel II - God Touched (27 page)

Out on the
street again, he strode along, not caring where he went. A Maiden
Moon sank towards the rooftops, seeming to mock him further. A
desperate voice called his name, and he glanced back. Lilu ran
after him, clasping a robe around her. He swore and walked faster.
She called his name again and again, refusing to give up, her bare
feet slapping on the dirt. Why did she not leave him alone? The
black tide nibbled at his sanity, and a shadow seemed to follow
him, sleek, swift and silent. He wanted to be alone. It was his
natural state of being. He would always be alone. Except for the
ugly whore who was stupid enough to crave his friendship, and would
probably pay for it with her life one day.

Blade stopped
and swung around, becoming aware that he stood beside one of the
filthy parks that were found in the slums. Whatever trees had once
populated it had long since been chopped down to feed paupers'
fires, and beggars slept in it, fouling it with their excrement and
dirty bodies. Blade hated this stinking city. Lilu ran up to him
and stopped, gazing at him intently.

“
What's wrong?”

“
Bugger off.”

“
It's those girls, isn't it? They tried to seduce
you.”

“
It's none of your damned business.”

“
Blade...” She stepped closer, reaching for him, but he took a
pace back.

“
It doesn't concern you.”

“
Don't push me away, too. I've done nothing wrong. Hate them,
not me.”

His lip
curled, and his hand caressed the hilt of a dagger in his belt.
“You disgust me, too.”

“
No, you’re angry with them, and you have a right to be. I
tried to warn you.” She reached for him again, but he backed away,
shaking his head.

“
All right,” she said, “just talk to me, please. Tell me what's
wrong. What happened?”

Blade turned
his head to gaze down the street. How could he tell her the truth?
How could he tell anyone what he truly was? The Jondarian Master of
the Dance was not even a real man. He was just a killer, useless
for anything else. Why was he even alive? Why did people keep
saving him? Especially this broken-nosed, gap-toothed whore.

Why had he
fallen into a fever after he had killed the rogue assassin? Was it
to do with what the Watch commander had told him those bits of
shrivelled flesh were that the rogue had collected and made into a
macabre necklace? It was the closest thing to evil he had
encountered since he had left the Cotti camp. He became aware that
Lilu stood close to him, her hand raised. The black tide surged,
and he found his daggers in his hands, poised beside her neck.

She shook her
head. “You don't want to kill me.”

“
No one will miss you,” he said.

“
You will.”

He pressed the
flat of a blade to her skin, making her shiver. “They offered me
fifty goldens to deflower eight of them.”

“
They were not maidens.”

Blade imagined
the blood that would flow if he drew the weapon across the pulsing
vein in her throat. The thought did not thrill him. It never did.
Killing held no joy. Nothing did. She raised a hand and gripped the
blade, and he frowned, wondering if she was stupid enough to slice
her fingers. He met her eyes, which pleaded, dark and moist in the
moonlight. Glittering trails ran down her cheeks. Why did she weep?
He had not harmed her.

“
I love you,” she whispered.

Blade released
the daggers and stepped back, turning away. One weapon clattered to
the cobblestones, the other remained in her hand. She bent to pick
up the fallen one. He raised his hands and stared at them. He still
wanted to kill someone, and there was only one person he loathed
more than any other. Himself. She stepped in front of him, annoying
him with her persistence. She should run from him. Anyone with an
iota of intelligence would, in his current mood. She had seen
Rivan; she knew the ghost that haunted him. The cold hilts of his
daggers filled his palms as she pressed them into his hands. She
stepped closer, playing with ice, he mused. Tempting fate. The
anger had drained out of him, leaving him empty. Frozen. He had
always been frozen, it seemed.

Lilu slid her
arms around him and pressed her cheek to his chest. No one had the
right to trust him that much. He was not trustworthy. Why did she
cling to a killer? He returned the daggers to their belt sheaths
with soft snicks and shoved her away, breaking her hold and making
her stagger back. She hugged herself, shivering.

“
Go home, Lilu. Go back to your lover. I want to be
alone.”

She shook her
head. “I don't think –”

“
I don't care what you think. Stop following me.”

Blade strode
away, annoyed when she pattered after him again. She was liable to
catch a cold, or be attacked by thugs, half dressed as she was. He
wanted to wash off the cloying scent of the girl's perfume, which
seemed to have soaked into his clothes, and assailed his nose from
time to time, but he could not return to his rooms with Lilu in
tow. He stopped and swung around again.

“
Go home!”

She stumbled
to a halt. “Where are you going?”

“
To my rooms.”

“
Are you all right?”

He spread his
arms. “Wonderful, now bugger off.”

She glanced
around with a shiver. “It's a long way back to the brothel. Can I
stay with you tonight?”

“
You shouldn't have followed me.”

“
I was worried about –”

“
I don't need you worrying about me.
Gods
!” He swung away, running a hand
over his hair.

“
Yes you do. You need someone to care about you, because you
hate yourself so much. And you shouldn't. You did nothing wrong.
Why did you come to my room, if not to speak to me? What did you
want to talk to me about?”

“
Nothing.” He shook his head.

“
Then we don't need to talk, just let me stay with you tonight.
I'll sleep on the floor,” she added quickly. “I won't be any
trouble.”

“
Why do you persist?”

“
You know why.” She walked nearer. “You push everyone away, but
for some reason you've allowed me to get closer to you than most,
and I'm glad. Tonight you need someone. I know you do, and I won't
abandon you now just because you're in a foul mood. I've weathered
your storms before and I'm still here, unscathed. Even now, you
won't leave me here alone. You could if you wished, I know. Of
course, you'll never admit to caring about anyone, but I know you
do. What sort of friend would I be if I left you alone
now?”

“
You're not my friend.”

“
But you are mine. Whether you like it or not.”

Blade studied
her ugly face and wondered why her presence, bothersome though it
was, seemed to have drained the anger out of him. The black tide
had receded, leaving only the cold emptiness that he had come to
know so well. It defined him. He cast his mind back to the time
when he had lain injured in her bed, and how he had kept returning
after he had recovered, as if drawn to her. Gratitude, perhaps, at
first, but it had grown into something more. An attachment. The
only one he had, tenuous though it was.

Lilu cherished
him, and he was still cat kin, after all. He liked to be cherished.
No matter how much he pushed her away, she clung to him and spoke
the words he longed, deep down, to hear, much as he denied it. He
was an empty man with a horrific past and a bleak future, yet she
would not let him go. She knew what he was, some of it, at least,
but more than any other, and perhaps all that he wished anyone to
ever know. He had grown a little gentler from knowing her, and she
chased the black rage away.

He held out
his hand. “Come, then.”

Lilu looked
startled, but slipped her hand into his with an uncertain smile,
and he wondered if his unexpected action unnerved her. Quite
possibly. It did not matter. The darkness had left his soul... for
now.

Chapter Fifteen

Blade stared
into his wine cup, fed up with the tolling of the great golden bell
that echoed through the city. For the first day of mourning, the
populace of Jondar had vented its grief in singing, prostration
towards the distant palace and visits to temples to light flames
and pour water for the dying Queen. Tashi-Mansa had reached her
fiftieth year, and taken the Queen's Cup. The initial fervour had
died down, and an air of desolation hung over the city. Blade found
it odd, since Jashimari queens were distant, invisible women whom
commoners were lucky if they saw once in their lifetimes. That was
when the newly crowned Queen stood upon the Plinth of Power outside
her gold-plated palace and pledged herself to her people and the
Endless War.

That happened
every five and twenty years, when the Elder Queen drank poison and
died. As traditions went, it was pretty macabre, he thought, but
served to ensure that Jashimari queens did not live long enough to
become senile and dangerous, as had happened once, ages ago. The
great golden bell in its tower tolled for three days, by the end of
which the Elder Queen was dead. Her daughter was crowned mere
time-glasses after the old Queen took the poison, however. The
coronation took place within the palace, unseen by commoners, who
packed the streets around it to glimpse the young Queen when she
emerged and ascended the Plinth to make her pledge.

Curiosity had
driven Blade to a rooftop not far from the palace gates, which gave
him an excellent view of the Plinth. The gates had swung open at
the appointed time, just as Queen Minna-Satu had emerged from the
palace's arched doorway and paced down the long, tree-lined avenue
that led to the Plinth. Blade recalled the mighty golden sand cat
that had walked at her side, a jewelled collar around her throat.
The Queen's familiar. He had used his spy-glass to gain a better
view of the young Queen in her sweeping turquoise gown and sheath
of golden chain mail. Twenty handmaidens had carried the fur-lined
train that stretched behind her, and curled white plumes had bobbed
in her hair.

From his
vantage, he had watched her ascend the steps that ran up the back
of the Plinth to the top, where attendants waited to hand her a
six-foot sceptre. Her small stature had surprised him. She had
waited for the golden bell to peal, and, as the sound faded, she
had spread her arms and cried the brief pledge before the next peal
sounded.

“
I pledge myself to you, Jashimari! From this day forth, for
five and twenty years, I am your queen. I shall defend Jashimari. I
shall uplift its people and uphold your honour. I shall end the
Endless War!”

The crowd had
cheered and trumpets blared, then the golden bell had drowned them
all out. Queen Minna-Satu had turned and descended the Plinth, her
duty done, and Blade had frowned at her proclamation. It puzzled
him still. End the Endless War? How was that possible? Why would
she wish it? By the time the young Queen had re-entered the palace,
he had shrugged it off. Certainly it made no difference to him what
she vowed to do.

Three days
later, the city seemed to hold its breath while it waited for the
last peal of the bell that it would not hear again for another five
and twenty years.

Blade sipped
his wine and glanced at Rendal, who polished cups behind the
counter. The taproom was empty apart from him and Lilu, who dozed
on a bench in the corner, her mouth open. Most chose not to drink,
and some did not eat either, during the Elder Queen's three dying
days, out of respect. Blade had not changed his habits, however. He
had no interest in queens, dying or otherwise. Ironically, tomorrow
would be a day of manic celebrations, and the taproom would no
doubt be packed. The assassin did not plan to partake in that,
either.

The silence
between the bell's peals seemed longer this time, and Blade looked
up. The silence grew more profound as the sounds of the crowd
outside faded away. The bell had stopped. A wail went up from the
mourners, and the crowd fell to its knees and performed its last
prostration to the Elder Queen, a distant roaring spreading through
Jondar. Lilu woke with a snort and looked around, rubbing her eyes.
Rendal put down the cup and vanished behind the counter as he
performed his abasement.

Blade topped
up his wine and sighed, relieved that the bell, though not loud
this far from the palace, had stopped at last. Tashi-Mansa was
dead. The crowd shouted her name, then silence clamped down again.
It was amazing how quiet the city could be when everyone was
silent, he mused. Gradually the sounds returned as people muttered,
carts rattled, children shrieked and animals bawled, barked or
neighed. The temples would fly grey dream silk for a moon-phase in
Tashi-Mansa's honour, then her time would be done. Now it was up to
her daughter to lead the kingdom for the next five and twenty
years.

Patrons
trickled into the taproom, demanding ale or wine, and Lilu sat up
and tidied her hair. In distant parks, closer to the palace,
carnivals and side shows abounded and the wealthy and noble
celebrated in flag-festooned streets. Here in the slums, however,
not much changed.

Blade looked
up as a middle-aged woman sat on the bench opposite, a smile on her
powdered, noble-born face. Brown ringlets fell from an elaborate
coif and berry juice reddened her lips. Her brown eyes roamed over
him, lingering on his belt, then flicked up to his chest, unable to
see his mark since he wore a high-collared jacket. She leant
closer.