T Southwell - The Queen_s Blade

"How in Damnation did you do it, you bastard? Two guards in his room, no women allowed, two guards at the door and four patrolling under his window. It should have been impossible."

The Prince rose, washed and dressed, then went into his suite's living area and called in one of the advisors. Sitting behind his desk, Kerrion glowered at the man.

"What happened?" he demanded. "How did he kill my brother?"

"We do not know, Sire."

"You must know something, Darjel. Tell me what happened."

The advisor sank into the chair before the desk, looking more subdued than before. "The watch in the Prince's room was changed at midnight, as were the guards at the door. Just before dawn, an officer came to inspect them, and found the guards awake and alert. No one else entered the room until the bodies were found shortly after dawn."

"Bodies?"

"The two guards were also slain, Sire."

"How?"

Darjel made a feeble gesture towards his throat, looking sick. "Their throats were cut."

"And they did not fight or call out?"

"Apparently not, Sire. It seems they were killed at the same moment."

"Why did their dogs not raise the alarm? Were they slain also?"

The advisor shook his head. "Their dogs were not allowed in the room, by order of the Prince."

"And my brother?"

Darjel looked down. "Stabbed, Sire, through the throat."

Kerrion stared at him. "The officer."

"Pardon, Sire?"

"The officer was the assassin."

"But…" The advisor gestured towards his mouth.

"What? He had a moustache? A beard? What fools do we employ as guards here? No doubt he had dark skin and spoke perfect Cotti as well. Did no one listen to me in the court yesterday? Blade is a master of disguise, and not just female ones. Somewhere you will find the body of the officer whose uniform he stole." Kerrion thumped the desk. "Are the guards such buffoons? They should not have allowed anyone into Lerton's room."

"They thought he was an officer."

Kerrion jumped up. "That is what they were supposed to think. I want him found! Send patrols into the desert towards Jashimari. If he has already left the city, which is probable, that is where he is. I want his head on a plate! We must show the Jashimari Queen that she cannot send an assassin to murder a Cotti prince and get away with it."

The advisor rose, then hesitated. "What of the guards, Sire?"

"What, must I have them flogged for stupidity? Throw them out, they are not fit to be soldiers."

"Yes, Sire."

After the advisor left, Kerrion sat and stared into space. Reluctant admiration warred with deep resentment for the elusive assassin, whom he did not doubt was far across the desert by now, out of reach. He did not mourn Lerton's death, but disliked the ease with which Blade had achieved it. It gave him a nasty, vulnerable feeling, even here in the bastion of his people.

One part of him prayed that the assassin reached Jashimari lands safely and bore his message to the Queen, another part longed for his death. Each time they met, Blade had humiliated Kerrion in one way or another, first by his ill treatment of the captive Prince, and now by offering his aid with such mocking effrontery and then killing Lerton despite the precautions that had been taken. Forewarned was forearmed, but against Blade, it seemed to do little good.

Blade turned to scowl at his companion, wishing for the umpteenth time that the man would stop grumbling about every little thing. If it was not the sand in his clothes or the heat of the day, it was the discomfort of the saddle or the glare hurting his eyes. Most of all, it was the fast pace Blade set so relentlessly. With the mountains of Jashimari visible in the distance, the assassin was tempted to leave the man behind and gallop to the border. His horse, however, had little energy left for such an effort, and he disliked torturing a blameless beast for Valda's crime.

"Anyone would think that the Hounds of Damnation were after us," the spy carped for the hundredth time. "Why we can't simply walk is beyond me, all this jolting and jiggling is bad for my constitution. It makes me sick to my stomach and hurts my head, to say nothing of my rump. We don't even stop to eat, and I can hardly chew when my teeth are rattling. Trying to drink water when it's splashing all down your front is no fun at all. Not to mention -"

"You may stop if you wish," Blade interrupted, startling the spy with his remark after days of silence. "The mountains are there before us, I can reach them by dusk, and you can catch up at your leisure."

"Oh, no," Valda asserted, "I must be seen to deliver you to the Jashimari soldiers, so I can collect my reward. You don't think I'm putting myself through this for nothing, do you?"

"I'll tell them you did your part."

Valda shook his head. "If I'm not with you when we arrive, they will think me incompetent or soft or something, and I'm none of those things."

"Just full of endless complaints."

"With good reason! I sweat all day because you insist on going so fast, and we haven't enough water to give the horses, so they'll probably drop dead from thirst soon enough, then I'll have to walk. My blisters have blisters, and I might as well have run across the desert, so tired am I. Once the horses give out, I'll be on foot, and I don't think I need to tell you how much I'll enjoy that!

"Yet you can't even tell me why we're in such a damned hurry. You went to deliver a message to Prince Kerrion, so I was told, and to meet with Prince Lerton on some vital matter, so why the rush to return? If it's an urgent message for your queen, why wasn't a familiar dispatched to carry it? In fact, why didn't a familiar bring the message to Kerrion? Why did you have to go there yourself? I could understand -"

"I was not just sent to deliver a message," Blade interrupted again, desperate to put an end to the constant grumbling. "We're being pursued. That's why we must go so fast."

Valda glanced back at the empty desert. "I see no pursuit. What did you do, bed Prince Kerrion's favourite concubine?" He laughed. "I hardly think the prince would mind, I hear he's not partial to women, unlike his brother, Lerton. If she was one of Lerton's, I wouldn't worry either, he's got so many that he wouldn't notice. He has…"

Blade closed his eyes, wishing that he could be struck deaf. It seemed that giving Valda any information only broadened the subject matter of his constant chatter. Valda went on to enumerate Lerton's concubines, compare their charms and the number of children they had borne him, then started to talk about their families and pedigrees or lack of them.

Unable to stand it any longer, Blade snarled, "Damn it, be quiet! Lerton's dead, and I don't care about his bloody concubines!"

Valda gaped at the assassin, granting Blade a short respite. All too soon, however, he recovered and demanded, "When? How did he die? Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"For this very reason, I suspect," Blade growled.

"You must tell me! I have a right to know, he was my prince. He should have been King, not that snivelling weakling, Kerrion. Lerton was the one with visions and plans. He took after his father, the great King Shandor. How was he killed? A riding accident? Lerton was ever one for riding spirited horses, he was -"

"One of his concubines stuck a knife in him, I heard," Blade drawled.

"Impossible!" Valda shouted. "They wouldn't dare, and he would strangle them for even trying! Don't lie to me, it's not a jest!"

Blade shrugged. "All right, he slipped in some dung and broke his neck."

"Don't insult Prince Lerton! He was the best of the princes! He was a great warrior, a strong man! Tell me the truth!"

Blade sighed. "I don't know, nor do I care. Perhaps one of his enemies killed him, or maybe his mother did what she should have done at his birth and drowned him. Just be quiet."