Invisible Assassin (32 page)

The Prince glanced at Blade when he was brought alongside, then turned back to the Jashimari officer who faced him, and Blade recognised Captain Redgard. The soldiers who supported the assassin pressed daggers to his ribs, and Redgard's eyes glittered as he took in Blade's battered, bloody appearance, his brows lowering further.

Armin smiled at his foe. "This is all we have, a dirty assassin, nothing more. Surely this is not your Lord Conash?"

Captain Redgard nodded, his expression guarded. "That is Lord Conash. Release him now, and you are free to go."

"Release him?" The Prince's smile vanished. "We are taking this assassin to Jadaya to be executed for the murder of Prince Ronan, Rigal and Targan, as well as an attack upon myself."

"That I cannot allow. I have explicit orders from the Regent to save her husband at all costs. If he is to be executed in Jadaya, then I will take him from you now, by force if necessary."

"If you try, he will die," Armin pointed out.

"Then it makes little difference, other than to shorten his suffering." Redgard's hand caressed the hilt of his sword.

"Wait!" Both men looked around as the elder judge rode forward, frowning. "This is foolishness." He shot the Prince a hard look. "It will accomplish nothing, Highness."

To Redgard he declared, "Captain, we seek the one who hired this assassin to kill Prince Rigal, Ronan and Targan. If we are furnished with this information, we will be willing to release him. The assassin blames Armin, but the Prince protests his innocence, and nothing can be proven. If you wish him returned alive to the Regent, then you must give us what we want."

"Blackmail," Redgard spat. "I do not know who hired him."

"No, but I would guess that your Regent does."

Redgard glanced at Blade, who watched him with calm eyes. "My Lord, if you would just..."

Blade shook his head. "Do not do it, I am -"

The soldier next to Blade punched him in the jaw, and the assassin sagged in their grip. The hiss of Redgard's sword mingled with a rattle of armour as his soldiers lowered their lances. Several moved forward as their warhorses responded to the growing tension in the air, scenting the possibility of battle and champing at their bits. Blade's guards dragged him upright and pressed their daggers to his ribs once more.

"Gag him!" the Prince ordered, turning to Redgard. "Put away your weapons or he dies now."

Redgard thrust his sword back into its scabbard. "If he is harmed -"

"He is alive, for the moment. If she wants him to stay that way, your Regent will have to tell us what she knows."

"And if she knows nothing?"

Armin glanced at the judge, who smiled and shook his head. "She knows, I am certain of it. But if not, she will have to persuade her husband to speak the name of his employer if she wishes him to live."

"If she does not know, and Lord Conash will not talk, she will not allow you to take him any more than I will," Redgard stated.

The judge shook his head again, looking patient. "She cannot stop us. Any action against Prince Armin will be taken by the King as an act of war."

Redgard gestured to the assassin who sagged in the Cotti soldiers' grasp. "Kidnapping the Lord Protector of Jashimari, a sacred Knight of the Veil and husband of the Regent could also be taken as an act of war."

"He is nothing but an assassin," Prince Armin growled.

The judge held up a hand. "Jashimari cannot afford to revive the war, Captain, but Cotti can. You would stand no chance against us now."

"And you think your king will make war upon his daughter?"

"Certainly he would not endanger her, but his lords and advisors would demand reprisals if her troops slaughtered his soldiers. He will depose your Regent and replace her. Your choice is simple, Captain. If you try to take him now, he will die. If we go to Jondar, he may live. What will it be?"

Redgard glared at the judge. "You leave me no choice."

Armin looked smug. "Jashimari have ever been cowards. It seems you have changed little since you lost the war. Anyway, I have a yen to meet my niece, your new Queen."

Redgard spat on the ground to show his contempt for the Prince's jibe. "My healer will see to Lord Conash's wounds before we move on, he seems gravely ill."

Armin shrugged. "As you wish, but the prisoner remains in my camp."

The soldiers dragged Blade back to the wagon and threw him into it, the pain making him grind his teeth. A few minutes later, a Jashimari healer and Captain Redgard arrived, climbing into the wagon to kneel beside him. Armin and his cronies watched from a short distance away, muttering amongst themselves. The healer removed Blade's gag, then examined the assassin's injuries.

Redgard looked concerned. "My Lord, are you all right?"

"No I am not," Blade snarled. "Whatever possessed you to agree to his terms?"

"I had no choice. Regent Chiana ordered your rescue at any cost."

"Of all the damned stupid things to do. Why let them take me to Jondar? Rather attack now, let them kill me and be done with it."

"My Lord?" Redgard looked shocked.

"Do you not see, Captain? Chiana does not know who hired me, and I will not talk. If you let them take me there, she will just have to watch them drag me away again, or start a bloody war trying to stop them."

"That will be her decision, My Lord. I promised to bring you back alive, and so I shall. If I precipitate your death by attacking Armin, she will have me executed."

"Just worried about your own skin, Redgard?" Blade sneered. "Ever heard of self-sacrifice?"

"I follow orders."

"No matter how stupid they are." Blade scowled, then winced and cursed when the healer tugged at his broken leg. "Leave the bloody thing alone, man, it is broken."

He turned back to Redgard. "Listen to me. You will tell Chiana that the man who hired me was Armin, you understand? Go to her before they bring me in; tell her to say that I told her it was Armin when I returned from Jadaya. It is imperative that she obeys me in this. It is an order, understand? If she wants me to live, she must do this."

Redgard nodded, looking relieved. "Of course, My Lord, a good plan. Then you will be released and Armin will be executed."

"That is the idea, but I do not put too much faith in it. Armin is too sly to be out-manoeuvred so easily. I suspect he has another plan up his sleeve." A cold smile twisted his lips. "Not that it will do him any good. He does not know it yet, but he is dying."

"Because of your attack?"

Blade nodded. "Trouble is, it is a bit slow."

Redgard glanced at the Prince. "He seems well enough."

"For the moment."

"Is it a poison?"

"No..." Blade fell silent as Armin limped to the back of the wagon and glared at Redgard.

"Get out of the wagon, Captain. I did not say you could remove his gag. I will have no plots hatched under my nose."

Redgard obeyed, shooting the Prince a scathing look that spoke volumes of his opinion of Cotti. The healer remained a little longer to smear fresh salve on Blade's wounds and change the bindings on his leg, then gave him a draught for the pain. Before he left, he wrapped the assassin in a blanket, cushioning him against the rough floor and easing his discomfort considerably with this simple act. As soon as the Jashimari left, Armin returned to his wagon, pale and sweating after his excursion.

Armin beckoned the elder judge over. "I want the assassin tortured before we reach Jondar. You may think the Regent knows his employer, but I do not. Assassins never reveal their client to anyone, unless they are tortured. It is doubtful that we will be able to take him to Jadaya now. As the captain said, his wife will try to stop us, and she may apply to my brother. So he must be tortured while we have him. I want the truth from him, and I do not care if he dies."

The judge nodded. "I will see to it, My Prince."

Armin gestured, and the column set off once more, escorted by the Jashimari battalion that rode in ranks on either side, shadowing them amongst the trees. The Prince found their presence unnerving, though not as worrying as the strange stiffness that invaded his limbs or the terrible headache that plagued him. The healer could offer no explanation, only empty words of comfort and reassurance.

For the rest of the day, Blade endured the unrelenting pain of his injuries, although the draught dulled it somewhat. When the wagon stopped, the healer roused him with slaps to feed him broth and water. The young Cotti clearly resented being made to tend a Jashimari assassin, and vented his ire on his patient at every opportunity. Blade could not retaliate even with words, for the gag silenced him, and when the healer removed it to feed him, he had to swallow or choke. When the healer had finished his unwanted task, two soldiers dragged Blade from the wagon and propped him against a tree. The elder judge squatted before him.

"Tell me the name of your employer, and I will have you taken to the Jashimari camp right now."

Blade licked dry lips. "Armin."

The judge stood and beckoned to a burly soldier, who stepped closer and knelt beside the assassin. He held a nasty looking metal instrument that Blade recognised as a device used to crush fingers and toes, an extremely effective method of low-grade torture practised on prisoners too weak to withstand harsher methods. The torturer took hold of Blade's left hand and tried to fit the instrument onto one of his fingers. The assassin yanked his hand free and lashed out in a double-fisted blow that bowled the man over with a grunt. The reprieve was short-lived, however, and only afforded him a little satisfaction.

A soldier bound Blade's hands to his waist, and the torturer proceeded with his grisly duty. Before he started, the soldier gagged Blade again, so his cries would not bring the Jashimari troops, who were camped within earshot, to his aid. He struggled with all his remaining strength, kicked at his tormentor and writhed in a futile bid to escape the pain.

Periodically, the torturer would stop and the judge would remove the gag and repeat his question. Each time Blade's answer was the same, other than a few occasions when he spat in the judge's face. When Blade passed out, the soldier roused him with water and the torture continued. The torturer concentrated on Blade's left hand, crushed the ends of four fingers and broke two in his zeal.

The judge, seeing that this was ineffective, ordered the torture to be changed. The torturer heated irons in the fire and placed against Blade's chest. With the gag muffling his screams, he could only writhe and chew the cloth. Finding the assassin still resistant, the judge ordered the torture stopped and resorted instead to a beating that two Cotti soldiers inflicted with great zest. Blade coughed and groaned as the air was punched from him. Blood oozed from his mouth and nose, but he cursed and spat at the judge until the man gave up and went to report to the Prince.

Blade lay where they left him, the pain that now lived in every part of him dazing him, his chest burning with each breath as his broken ribs grated together. The world seemed distant and muted, and a cold sweat broke out all over him as he went into shock. He was barely aware of being thrown back into the wagon, or the rumbling of its wheels as the column set off again the next day. Even when he recovered from the shock, he remained unmoving, feigning unconsciousness to avoid more torture.

Chapter Sixteen

The Cotti company rode into Jondar five days later, its escort of Jashimari cavalry surrounding it. The crowded streets cleared before the double phalanx of mounted troops, and people muttered darkly at the sight of Cotti soldiers in their city. After a brief challenge at the palace gates, the Jashimari battalion and Cotti company were admitted, with the wagon that bore Blade. Armin rode ahead, fighting the insidious, creeping stiffness that still plagued him, at times making it difficult to speak. His judges and advisors accompanied him, followed by his honour guard.

Chiana watched from a balcony as the troops dismounted and formed up in the courtyard below. Prince Armin's figure was unmistakeable, his pale blue surcoat sheathed in a glittering golden breastplate, a plumed helmet covering his blond hair. She searched for her husband, her heart pounding. Since Redgard had left fourteen days ago, she had received no news from him, and wondered why he had brought the Cotti Prince to the palace. The falcon she had dispatched had returned with the message still tied to its leg, so she knew that Blade had not received it.

A knock at the door distracted her, and she turned as a servant entered, bearing a missive. He bowed and held it out. "The Cotti Prince demands an audience at once, Regent."

Chiana took the scroll and unrolled it, paling as she read it. "Take him to the throne room. I shall be there shortly."

The servant bowed again and left. Chiana crumpled the scrap of parchment as she stood irresolute, then clapped her hands to summon her attendants. Within a few minutes, she was garbed in a rich gown of heavy green velvet trimmed with lace, its high fish-spine collar sewn with tiny seed pearls. She fought to slow the wild racing of her heart while she stood still for her attendants to lace and tuck her regal garments, determined to show no sign of her emotions.

Many moons of practice had allowed her to mask her feelings with a bland, inscrutable expression, but the prospect of seeing Blade again made this difficult as tears of joy and anxiety stung her eyes. Redgard's message told her that her husband was alive, and that, for the moment, was all she needed to know. When she was ready, she went to the throne room, followed by the two handmaidens who always accompanied her.

As she entered through the small door at the back, traditionally used by the Queen, she became aware of the tension within the vast chamber. Captain Redgard stood to one side with four of her guards, scowling at the Cotti Prince who had taken his ground at the centre of the room, in front of the throne. Behind him, three black-robed judges watched her with calculating eyes, and two white-clad advisors stood behind them. At the rear of the group, four Cotti officers waited, two gripping the arms of a man she barely recognised. He sagged in their grip, his head hanging.