Authors: T. Southwell
"He made me the finest assassin in all the lands, for I have no mercy. Do you know how many assassins have died simply because they hesitated? Their victims begged for their lives, and they paused, moved by their soft hearts."
Blade gave a bark of bitter laughter, and Kerrion recoiled from the madness in his eyes, a rage so powerful that it swallowed all else. "Imagine that! An assassin with a soft heart! Yet compared to me, they did have feelings, enough to make them pause; enough to kill them. I have never hesitated, never felt the slightest twinge of pity for any man. Every time I kill, I grow emptier. The rush of hot blood does not bring me joy. The sigh of a final breath does not thrill me. I just grow colder inside. So, if you become my next victim, do not waste your breath begging for mercy." Blade shoved him away, sending him staggering back a few steps.
"I will not," the Prince murmured. "I do not doubt that you are an excellent and merciless killer. But have you not become like those you profess to hate so much? You say that my father made you what you are, surely you hate his influence?"
The assassin's wintry gaze flicked away into the darkness. "Of course I do, but it has served me well. What else would I do with my life, being as I am? Perhaps become a soldier and throw it away in the carnage of a battle, yet that prospect has never appealed to me."
"But you must have scruples, surely? There must be someone whom you would not kill? Your Queen, perhaps?"
Blade smiled, and the Prince marvelled at the gentle seduction of his expression, the soft curl of his lips that hid his ruthless nature so well. Blade’s smile could probably charm birds from the trees, and it meant nothing to him at all; it was just another tool he used to his own ends.
"No one is safe from me. If they have a price on their head, they are dead."
"Have you no loyalty then? She is your Queen."
"I am loyal only to my hatred of the Cotti." The assassin squatted beside the fire, holding out his hands to it. Kerrion shivered, beginning to understand the man who had taken him prisoner with such consummate ease. In the leaping light, Blade's face took on a sinister aspect. Death hung about him like a flock vultures sitting in a tree, waiting for something to die.
The Prince swallowed and sat down on the far side of the fire, glancing at his captor. Blade noticed it, and his smile broadened to reveal even white teeth in an expression of profound, gentle beauty. This man, Kerrion pondered, was too fine in his looks to be described as handsome. His neutering robbed his face of true masculinity. What had caused that, he wondered. Who had perpetrated this ultimate humiliation on a man such as Blade, and why? In his father's court, he had heard many tales of the Jashimari Queen, how she used male slaves to sire her offspring and castrated any man who offended her.
Had Blade fallen foul of her anger, and if so, why did he still serve her? Perhaps the assassin's castration had been the revenge of one of his victims' bereaved relatives. Would death not have been a better vengeance? Already he had learnt more about this strange man than he cared to, and had stumbled upon the secret of unlocking his tongue. The only way to make Blade talk, it seemed, was to goad him, and then he took his life in his hands whenever he did it. Only the Queen's orders prevented the assassin from killing him, he was certain.
"Was it only you and your sisters who were taken?"
Blade raised his head. "No. My younger brother, who was ten, was also taken. I buried his body."
"How did he die?"
"All the children in the camp fell ill eventually, and they all died. A disease carried by sand fleas, I was told, one that Jashimari have no resistance to." He paused, staring past Kerrion with such intensity that the Prince was hard put not to turn and look behind him. "I got it too, but for some reason, I survived." He lowered his gaze to the fire. "I seem to have a charmed life, for there have been many times when I should have died. Yet I have never failed to kill the man I was sent to slay. Even your father, who survived all the other attempts on his life."
"Were you afraid?"
Blade snorted. "Any man who claims never to have known fear is either a fool or a liar." He put down his wine cup. "Enough talk."
The assassin tied Kerrion to a tree, then retired to his blanket.
Chapter Six
A cold rain fell the next day, making travelling pure misery for Kerrion. The hood was plastered to his face, his clothes chafed him in every conceivable place, and his wrists stung. The wound in his side kept up a dull throbbing in time with the jolting of his horse's strides. By the time Blade made camp that evening, the drenched Prince's hands and feet were numb. The assassin built a fire, ignoring Kerrion's violent shudders and chattering teeth. The inclement weather did not appear to affect Blade. The water streamed down his face and slicked his hair to his head. When he passed Kerrion a bowl of hot stew, the Prince had warmed a little, and huddled close to the fire while he ate.
Once again, his curiosity prompted him to ask, "So what made you become an assassin?"
"I would have thought that was obvious, and it is none of your damn business. Do you never tire of yapping?"
"You must have had an interesting life."
"Is that what you would call it?"
Kerrion shrugged. "Well, it must have been hard, but I would dearly like to hear about it."
"Did you enjoy last night's tales so much then?"
"No. But there must have been some good times, even for you."
The assassin shot him a dark look, and Kerrion changed the subject. "I have had some good times, but with fifteen brothers who hated me, I have had some bad times too."
"Did they pull your hair?"
The Prince ignored Blade's sarcasm. "They did their best to humiliate and discredit me as often as they could, and their mothers helped."
"Mothers?"
"My father had six wives and dozens of concubines. I have fourteen sisters, too."
"That is a lot of women under one roof."
Kerrion chuckled. "Indeed it is. A lot of children, too. Of course, as soon as they were old enough, my father married his daughters off to his lords and officers. There were plenty to go around."
Blade put aside his empty bowl, leant back against a tree and closed his eyes with a sigh. "You talk too much. Have you nothing interesting to say?"
The Prince plucked at his chains. "You could take these off now. I cannot possibly escape; I would never make it back to the mountains."
Blade opened one eye. "You jest."
"No, I am in earnest."
"You expect me to trust you not to kill me in my sleep? What kind of a fool do you take me for?"
"I am a man of honour. I accept that I am your captive, and I will not attempt to harm you, you have my word."
Blade laughed. "Your word! You are my prisoner, and you will remain in those chains until we reach the Queen."
Kerrion glared at him. "Whatever it is your Queen wants from me, I will not do it."
"You probably will not have a choice, especially if it is your head."
"If she wants peace, as you say, she is not likely to do that." Kerrion shook his head. "She must think that she can negotiate some sort of truce. Perhaps she will offer me part of her kingdom in return for an end to the Cotti onslaught and inevitable victory. If she does, I shall ask for you as part of the bargain."
Blade sat up, frowning. "She would not offer you a grain of Jashimari soil, and you would never get me, but why would you do that?"
"So it is possible that she wants a truce?"
"I have no idea what she wants, but why would you ask for me?"
"We have a score to settle, regarding my father, and my treatment."
Blade gave a derisive snort. "I would kill you first."
"That would put my brother on the throne and ruin all your queen's plans."
"I do not care."
"You should, if you want the war to end," the Prince said.
"I do not care about that either."
"Is there anything you care about?"
"No."
Kerrion smiled. "Perhaps I will just ask for your head, in that case."
Blade growled, "Is this your idea of a friendly conversation?"
"I doubt that we will ever be friends."
"I know we will not."
Kerrion's smile broadened. His goading was starting to annoy the assassin, which was precisely what he wanted. Sensing that the time was ripe, he asked, "Does the Queen neuter all her assassins?"
Blade stared at him with chilling hatred. "If you cannot control your tongue, I shall cut it out for you."
"No, you will not. So why did she neuter you? Was it a punishment?"
Blade leapt up and stepped towards the Prince, then swung away and walked off to stand with his back to the camp. Kerrion grinned. He enjoyed tormenting Blade. When Kerrion had been kidnapped, he had not doubted that Blade would have killed him in a moment. Now that the assassin was so close to delivering his prize, however, Kerrion knew that he was safe. A little verbal abuse was trifling revenge for his abduction and harsh treatment, but it was all he could inflict.
"So who was it?" he insisted, "A jealous husband? A jilted girlfriend? Perhaps an angry customer?"
Blade swung around and strode over to the Prince. Yanking a dagger from his belt, he pressed it to Kerrion's throat.
Kerrion glowered up at him. "You will not kill me."
"If you think that, you are a fool. Killing you would give me more pleasure than delivering you to the Queen."
"You would not get your reward."
"I do not care."
A chill of apprehension ran down Kerrion's spine. "Do it then. I am not afraid to die."
"You should be." Blade sheathed the dagger, and the Prince relaxed. For a moment he had doubted his reasoning, and was glad that he had been right. Reassured of his safety, he tried again.
"So did the Queen do it herself?"
The assassin whipped around and hit Kerrion hard enough to make his eyes water. The salty tang of blood invaded his mouth.
"You do not learn, do you?" Blade snarled.
Kerrion blinked, shocked by the suddenness of the attack and its violence. Until now, Blade had seemed too well controlled to resort to brutality, but apparently he had found the one subject able to enrage the assassin beyond the point where he could control his temper. He longed to strike back, but the chains made him helpless, and he glared up at the assassin. Even Blade's mocking smile, ever on hand to rile his opponent, had deserted him in this instance.
Kerrion spat blood. "So you do care about something."
"I dislike nosey Cotti bastards who pry into another man's business like a fishwife into her neighbour's household."
"So why did she do it? To punish you for some indiscretion? Did you forget to grovel properly?"
Blade's eyes glinted, and he grabbed a cloth from one of the packs and stuffed it into the Prince's mouth. "If you will not be quiet, I shall make you."
While the assassin hunted for a cord to bind the gag in place, Kerrion pulled it out. "How does it feel to be a half man? Do you hate her now? Why do you still serve her?"
Blade rammed the gag back in with such force that the Prince almost choked on it, then wound a strip of cloth around his head, holding it in place. He tied it tightly and shoved Kerrion aside before he reclaimed his seat on the far side of the fire. There he sipped his tea and regarded at his captive, who could only glare back at him. The assassin sat for a long time, measuring the Prince with his eyes. Finally he spoke into the silence.
"You are going to goad me with that whenever you can, are you not? You seem to enjoy making me angry. I see that now. It is a kind of revenge, the only one of which you are capable. You seem to think that this is something I am ashamed of, and thence stems my anger. But you are wrong. I will tell you what you want to know. It seems I have told you too much already, but hopefully you will die soon. Perhaps, being a Cotti, you have a right to know."
Kerrion frowned in confusion, and Blade went on, "All the Jashimari boys were... gelded in your camps. I suppose they thought we would live to be adults, and by gelding us they would make us easier to handle. Jashimari are strong-willed and stubborn, unlike Cotti, who spend all their energy talking, and are easily persuaded to do as they are told, even offering to be willing captives." Blade cast a scornful eye over the Prince.
"I never stopped trying to escape, and several times they beat me almost to death. What they did to me only made me hate them more, and I became more determined to escape them, no matter how they punished me. Do not insult me with your pity, either, for I have found my... difference to be a great asset at times, ensuring that I never find myself at the mercy of some scheming woman. And it has enabled me to be a good assassin, providing, as it does, a fool-proof disguise.
"Your father fell for it, as many have done before him, and paid the price. You could say that what your soldiers did led to his death, for any normal man would not be able to pass himself off as a woman, for obvious reasons."
Blade's gaze rested on Kerrion's chin, from which a three-tenday-old beard sprouted. He raised a hand to rub his smooth cheek, a slight smile curling his lips again.
"So, now you know, and I do not really care who you tell. I do not like to talk about it, but it has never been a secret. Most people know what I am when they see me, and how I became what I am is irrelevant. You may take some pride in what your soldiers did to me, but it has not done you, or them any good, has it? Perhaps I will suggest to the Queen that she return the favour with you, and send back to the Cotti a king who will never beget sons. I will gladly kill all your brothers, too."
Kerrion longed to tell Blade that he had no pity in his heart for a man like him, but what the soldiers had done was so wrong that it made him ashamed. That his father had been a part of it was even more shameful. The assassin finished his tea and put away the cup, then tied the Prince to a tree as usual before rolling himself into his blankets, leaving Kerrion gagged.