Invisible Assassin (26 page)

"I should eat before I go," he muttered. "It will make a change from bread and water."

"Yes, you should." She rose and approached him. "Tell me about the hair."

"It is none of your business."

"What harm can it do? I just want to know, that is all. I will not tell anyone else."

He turned to face her, leaning against the ledge. "You asked Talon about my past, did you not?"

"Yes."

"And you cannot guess what happened?"

"No."

He shook his head. "And I thought you were clever."

"Please tell me."

"Or you will die of curiosity, I suppose?"

"I may never see you again. At least tell me more about yourself before you go."

The assassin sighed, bowing his head. "I suppose you deserve the truth, though I doubt you will like it. Perhaps it will sicken you so much that you will give up this foolish infatuation you have for me."

He raised his head and met her eyes. "They would not let me cut my hair in the Cotti camp. At first I did not understand why, until they started dressing me as a girl. Making fun of me mostly, but there was something more to it than that. One night when they were toying with me in that manner, I slipped away into the darkness and escaped. I told you that I escaped the camp disguised as a woman, and that is how it happened. Once I was free, I cut my hair off and kept it to remind me of that night, that is all."

"Is that the truth?"

He smiled. "You were expecting something worse? Sorry to disappoint you, but Cotti men, despite their failings, are not tempted by boys. They merely found it amusing, entertaining, and perhaps fascinating that I looked so much like a girl at that age. I was not the only one they did it to; a lot of the castrated boys looked girlish. Talon noticed it too. I am sure he told you."

"You said there was something more to it. What?"

Blade's smile broadened. "I think some of them... how should I put it? Found me attractive? From recent experience I would say so. They must have found it frustrating, for I was the wrong sex, even though I looked tempting."

"Was that why you were afraid when Talon suggested that you dress as a woman?"

He chuckled. "I was not afraid. I was furious and insulted. I had not yet accepted what I was. I still searched every morning for that first hair sprouting from my chin. Of course it never appeared, the Cotti butcher did a good job."

Chiana stroked the silken length of hair. "And when you went to Jadaya you cut it off again."

"Only because I had to glue a wig on to escape the city. I do not suffer from those insecurities any more. I know what I am now. I find it quite amusing that I can appeal to either sex, depending on how I dress, do you not?"

"I have not seen you disguised as a woman."

"But you would like to."

She studied him, trying to imagine the transformation. "I prefer you as you are."

"I will wager you do."

"Talon said you tried to throttle him when he painted your face for the first time."

He looked thoughtful. "Yes, that is right, I did. But that was because of the way he looked at me. I got the impression he was wishing very much at that moment that I was a woman, and I left him in no doubt that I was not."

"And you have been proving it ever since."

"Very astute of you. It certainly made my job easy, though. Men do not suspect women. It is amazing how vulnerable and unguarded they are with one, when they would be wary of a man. If ever there was a woman assassin, she would be very successful."

A knock came at the door, and Blade invited the applicant to enter. Arken came in with a plate of steaming lamb stew on a tray, and Blade sat down to consume it with relish. She watched him eat, trying to think of all the questions she longed to ask him, but her mind was too filled with the thought that he would be leaving so soon, and she longed to beg him to stay.

"What will you do on your estate?" she asked.

He glanced at her and shrugged. "Run it, I suppose. Maybe grow some crops, hunt in the woods, train a few apprentices."

"You will not drink too much?"

"I probably will, in your opinion."

"Will you come and visit me?" She swallowed hard, struggling to hide her despair.

"I hate travelling."

"But would you, if I asked you to?"

He studied her. "I suppose I could if I bought a fancy carriage, but the roads are not very good."

"I shall have them repaired."

"I suppose you will, Regent."

Chiana looked down at her twisting hands, the prospect of his impending departure making her eyes sting. He had to leave for his own sake, though it tore her apart to let him go. Blade pushed aside his empty plate and rose, picking up the bag.

"I hope my horse is ready."

Chiana stood, fighting the tears that threatened to overwhelm her. "You will write to me?"

"I have never been one for writing, apart from my memoirs, that is." At her downcast expression he sighed. "I will, when I remember. I suppose I shall have a lot of time on my hands."

He walked to the door, and she fought the urge to run after him and drag him back. As he pulled it open, she swung around.

"Blade."

He turned, his brows raised.

"Do you forgive me?"

To her horror, he pondered the question. "For locking me in the dungeons? If I did not, do you think I would be friendly now? I just wish you had not bothered."

She slumped with relief, and he turned to go. "Blade."

He paused again, looking a little impatient this time. "What?"

Chiana walked over to him, her legs like jelly, and looked up at him. "Will you not say goodbye? Perhaps a kiss?"

He sighed. "For God's sake, Chiana."

"Please, it would mean much to me."

Blade smiled, an expression that did not banish the coldness from his eyes. She realised that Talon was right. He had changed, but she could not quite fathom the nature of it. He allowed her to clasp his face and press her lips to his in a bittersweet kiss that filled her with a greater sadness than before. When she stepped back, he shot her a final, mocking smile and turned to leave. It took all of her resolve and willpower not to call him back again. She went to her room instead and locked the door. Unable to watch him ride away, she flung herself down on the bed and wept.

Later, Jayon came to see her, and, soon after learning of Blade's departure, left the palace also. He told no one where he was going, but Chiana guessed that he had gone after Blade, and wished that she could do the same.

Chapter Thirteen

Jayon caught up with Blade just outside the city, and reined in his mount beside the assassin's. Although Blade did his best to ignore him at first, Jayon's cheerful chatter eventually evinced a response, and they rode companionably along the forest roads. Blade seemed not to be averse to his company, going against old instincts that dictated solitude, but, at the same time perhaps, curious about Jayon's wish for his society. Jayon wondered if the assassin had ever known loneliness, and whether this was his first experience of friendship. Doubtless many had tried to befriend Blade over the years, but none had succeeded, and Jayon hoped to be the first to lay claim to the assassin's amity.

A few days into the journey, Jayon could no longer keep silent about the change he had noticed in Blade. Although the assassin carried his daggers again, he no longer seemed so aloof and impatient, and listened to Jayon's banter with good humour. Emboldened by his lack of hostility, Jayon sought to satisfy his curiosity.

"You seem changed. It's for the better, of course, but what has caused it?"

"Didn't you ask me this at the palace?"

"Yes, but you only told me to fetch you another bottle of wine."

Blade smiled. "Ah yes, and a fine vintage it was too."

"Will you tell me now?"

"I'm retired. Is it so strange that I should have changed?"

"No, but what does it mean? Are you now capable of the feelings you claimed not to have before, such as friendship?"

The assassin shot him a wry glance. "I never said I was incapable, only that I made no friends. Rest assured, I'm not so greatly changed. I have merely put down the burden of my trade, which dictated that I remain distant from others. Attachments are dangerous for an assassin."

"How so?"

"Well, few wish to be friends with assassins or to share their company, and those who do are generally seeking some advantage through it. Some wish only to partake in the tales of death an assassin can tell, but others crave information they can sell to the families of his victims. Some seek to ingratiate themselves to such an extent that they then feel they can lay claim to some advantage by association, such as protection.

"They think that to be the friend of such a dangerous man will aid them in their lives. They want to use it as a threat in business or to shield them from their enemies. This cannot be. The services of an assassin are sold, not earned through friendship. If they were, we would be most popular, and very poor. From our side, a friend is a potential victim we cannot refuse to kill, should we be hired to do so."

Jayon nodded, fascinated. "But how is it dangerous to you?"

"In many ways. There's blackmail, for one. Any assassin who divulges the names of his kills and clients is likely to find himself paying dearly to keep it a secret. If he refuses to pay, his supposed friend may sell the information to the family of his kill, who would seek vengeance."

"But surely an assassin could kill the blackmailer?"

Blade smiled and shook his head. "No, we're forbidden to kill except when we're hired to do so, or in self-defence. An assassin could hire another to kill the blackmailer, but then he would find himself out of pocket once more."

"But who would know? If an assassin had no scruples, he could strangle his blackmailer and throw him in the river. No one would be the wiser."

"True, he could, but he would be taking a risk. If ever it was found out that he had done this, the Guild would strip him of his trade, and they have many spies. When an assassin named Slash was killed in the palace, before you came from the border, I was suspected of it and called before the Guild. Fortunately they believed me, or I might have had my mark burnt off that night."

Jayon's gaze dropped to the base of Blade's throat, where his collar hid his tattoos. "Why do you have the mark?"

"To prove our occupation. Before the Guild was formed there were many killers for hire, none with any training, and many who were inept. This led to botched killings, woundings and complete failures where killers were caught and tortured into divulging the name of their clients, who then paid the price.

"People became wary of hiring a man to do the job, but they made an even worse job of it for the most part. The city guards spent all their time trying to track down murderers, and quite often executed the wrong men. So the Guild was formed, with all its rules and guidelines. Assassins are highly trained. They seldom fail, and if they're caught they never name their clients."

"But that doesn't explain the tattoo."

Blade shot him a smile. "If you wished to hire an assassin, how would you go about it?"

Jayon shrugged. "Find a likely looking man, I suppose, and ask him if he's an assassin. Or maybe go to a place where assassins are known to be, like a particular inn or taproom."

"And this man you approach, who may claim to be an assassin, how would you know for certain that he was?"

"Oh, I see. So you show the tattoo to a potential client. But surely anyone may have such a tattoo?"

"No." Blade chuckled. "A few did try that, but the Guild hunted them down and removed the tattoo rather painfully. The Guild doesn't look kindly upon imposters stealing from them."

"But why don't the city guards hunt down assassins and execute them as murderers?"

"Because we're not. The people who hire us are the true murderers, but an assassin will never divulge their names. Assassins are therefore regarded as tools, rather like a dagger or sword. Executing assassins would merely force us into hiding or eliminate us, which would bring back the old chaos. Also, a person who hires an assassin to kill a rival or enemy is not the same as someone who murders for pleasure. It's an imperfect system, but it works."

Jayon nodded again, and for a while they rode through the sun-dappled woodland in silence, then, to Jayon's surprise, Blade broke it.

"You seem curious about my former trade. Is there a reason?"

"It's quite fascinating. Anyone would be curious. Assassins are so secretive; no one knows much about them."

"True. But there's more to it than that. No one helps an assassin unless they hope to profit by it. Most men would pass a dying assassin by, if they didn't spit on him as well. You saved me in the desert, and you've claimed nothing in return except my friendship, which you didn't get. Why did you do it, truly?"

Jayon hesitated, staring into the woods ahead. "I don't know, really. I couldn't leave you to die, even though you were an assassin. You were still Jashimari, and wounded by a Cotti."

"Very noble, but there's more."

Jayon glanced at him. "Yes, I suppose there is. My father was assassinated four years ago."

Blade frowned and looked away. "I see. Or rather, I don't see. Why would that make you save my life?"

Jayon shrugged. "I suppose I felt it was poetic justice to save a man who was of that trade, and to have him indebted to me, or so I thought at the time. I was also curious about you."

"So you thought to earn my undying gratitude, and then what, find out who had your father killed?"

"Yes, but I soon realised my mistake."

Blade looked thoughtful. "A fiendish plan. Save an assassin, give him your father's name and hope that he would know who had hired his killer. Then what, hire him to slay your father's murderer?"

"Something like that."

"But when you discovered how ungrateful I was, you didn't even bother to ask me."

Jayon shook his head. "I didn't think it would be as easy as that, so I sought to befriend you."