Chapter Eighteen

 

Kerra sat on the baking sand, holding her jelabah over her head in an effort to stay cool. The temperature had risen until she was sure her brains were boiling. She stared at the distant oasis, wondering at the wisdom of her earlier decision. A horse had provided her with shade earlier, but now it was noon, and she dared not sit under its belly, for it stamped to chase away flies. She waved the annoying insects away from her face, slapping at them when they landed to suck blood.

One of the horses raised its head and pricked its ears, gazing towards the oasis. Soon the other two did the same, swinging around to face in the same direction, their nostrils flared as they scented the breeze. Kerra peered into the shimmering heat haze, wondering what had caused their disquiet. Unable to see anything at first, she squinted and raised a hand to shade her eyes.

A glimpse of movement riveted her gaze, and she focussed on the anomaly, waiting for it to become clearer. A horse snorted, sounding an alarm that the other two echoed. Kerra glanced at them, wondering if they would bolt. Worried that they might, she rose and went over to soothe them, stroking their velvet noses as she gazed at the moving, ghostly shape.

The object of their concern revealed itself to be a sand cat trotting towards the camp, ears pricked. A pang of fear went through the young queen, and she glanced at the bags where Blade's crossbow was stowed, then back at the approaching cat. It was strange that the beast headed so boldly towards the camp, apparently coming from the oasis. As it drew closer, she made out what looked like a piece of paper gripped in its jaws, and relaxed.

It had to be the familiar Myasha had seen with the woman in the oasis, and was therefore harmless. The horses also seemed to sense that it was not a threat, for they calmed, starting to stamp and swat flies again. The cat slowed to a walk several paces from the camp, then stopped and sat down.

After a brief hesitation, Kerra approached the female feline and took the piece of paper from her jaws. She rose to sniff the girl's legs, her tail twitching. With one eye on the prowling cat, Kerra read the missive, delighted to find that it was from Blade, but written in blood, and terse. It told her to follow the cat and bring the horses.

Filled with a mixture of concern and relief, Kerra saddled the animals and loaded the supplies onto the packhorse, then mounted her beast. The cat watched her, licking her paws, and set off back to the oasis as soon as Kerra was aboard her horse. Kerra wondered why she needed to follow the cat when the oasis was in plain sight, but the sleek feline did not slow her, bounding ahead as if she had springs on her feet.

When they reached the oasis, Kerra tethered the horses in the shade and followed the cat into the keep. A short way along the corridor, the cat turned into a room, and Kerra strode after her, stopping in the doorway as she took in the strange tableau. Blade sat on a pile of blankets, poking strips of bacon that sizzled in a pan over a fire.

On the other side of the fire, a delicate woman lounged on an even larger pile of blankets, dressed in a ragged cloth that had once been a rich velvet sheet. She reminded Kerra of the portraits of her mother that hung in the palace in Jondar. Her tangled raven hair looked as if it had been hacked off on one side, and spilt in a silken skein over ivory shoulders, framing a face of unsurpassed beauty, even though smudged with dirt. The woman's flame blue eyes raked Kerra with a bold glance that made blood rush to her cheeks, and she raised her chin. The cat flopped down beside the woman, purring, and she stroked it. Kerra looked at Blade, who glanced up from his chore, then turned back to it as she stepped into the room.

"Are you all right, Blade?"

The woman shot him a smile. "Such concern. I am touched, are you not, my lord?"

Blade poked the bacon, not looking at either of them. "Not particularly."

The woman's highborn speech surprised Kerra. Even she had never mastered the art of speaking so precisely, as was expected of noble Jashimari.

Blade gestured to the wine skins lying next to the wall. "Bring me one of those."

The woman studied Kerra again as the girl obeyed. "Such obedience, too. I am surprised, I must say."

Blade muttered, "She vowed to obey me before we left Jondar. It was a condition of my help."

The woman smiled at Kerra as the girl pulled up some blankets and settled beside the fire. "You look like your father, my dear."

Kerra frowned. "If you know who I am, then you should refer to me as 'my Queen'."

Blade chuckled, shooting the woman an amused look, but she merely smiled, as if Kerra's response pleased her. "Of course. And does Lord Conash call you this?"

"No." Kerra's mouth twisted in a wry smile. "He says he will only do that when I learn to act like a queen."

"Indeed?" The woman raised her brows at Blade. "How very rude of you, my lord." She glanced at Kerra again. "But then, do you call him 'my lord'?"

"He told me not to."

"Ah."

Kerra gazed at the purring cat stretched out beside the woman, a germ of realisation taking root in her mind. "My mother had a cat like that. Her name was Shista."

The cat pricked her ears and glanced at Kerra. The woman smiled. "Do you know much about your mother, Kerra?"

"I know that she is dead. Who are you? Why has Blade not introduced us?"

"I asked him not to."

"Why?"

"I wanted you to work it out for yourself. I thought it would be less of a shock that way. My familiar's name is Shista, and I am not dead."

"Blade?" Kerra turned pleading eyes upon the assassin.

He glanced up from the bacon pan, first at the woman, then at Kerra. "Kerra, this is your mother, Queen Minna-Satu."

Kerra gazed at Minna-Satu, struck speechless.

Minna lifted a hand to pat her tangled hair. "I apologise for my appearance. I am certain that I do not look like a queen at this moment. I would have preferred that we met under more auspicious circumstances, but unfortunately fate did not allow it. At least Trelath allowed me to bathe a few days ago, or I would have been in an even sorrier state."

Blade handed Minna several rashers of bacon wrapped in fat-soaked journey bread, and she nibbled it. Kerra accepted a similar sandwich in a dazed manner. Her mind had gone blank, as she tried to come to terms with this astonishing revelation. Minna glanced at Blade, who chewed his repast, washing it down with long draughts of wine.

"You took the Queen's Cup," Kerra mumbled.

"Yes, I did, but your father saved me. That was a terrible day, one that I have tried to forget, but cannot. I fully intended to go through with my plan, but Kerrion went to Shamsara and obtained the antidote. He saved Blade too, that day."

"Blade?" Kerra glanced at the assassin, who ignored her.

Minna replied, "Blade shared the Cup with me, at his own request. Kerrion needed him to slay his treacherous brothers, who plotted to kill me. Blade assassinated Ronan and two others at my behest. I forget their names."

"Targan and Rigal," Blade supplied.

"Yes, that is right. Blade and Rigal had the most awful fight when Rigal came to kill me. He saved my life."

"Does Chiana know you're alive?" Kerra demanded.

"No, of course not. Poor Chiana. She would not have been able to keep it a secret from you."

"But Blade did." Kerra shot the assassin an accusing glare.

"From Chiana's letters to Kerrion, I gathered that Blade has not been at the palace these past fifteen years."

"No, but I've been with him for almost an entire moon now."

Minna frowned. "Mend your speech, Kerra. You and Lord Conash speak like Cotti."

"We have been disguised as Cotti, my queen. It was necessary," Blade said.

"Well, we are all Jashimari here."

"Soon we will have to hide amongst the Cotti again. I trust that you will not speak to anyone?"

"Certainly not." Minna glanced at her daughter and smiled. "It is good to finally meet you. I have often wondered about you over the years, and I am not disappointed."

"You abandoned me," Kerra growled.

"I had no choice. I had to end the war that was tearing Jashimari apart, and would have resulted in our defeat once Contara attacked us. I had no wish to die, I assure you. When Kerrion saved me, I could not reveal my existence, or my people would have demanded my return, and the Cotti nobility would have forced Kerrion back into the war."

"Did you plan on telling me the truth?"

"Yes. Kerrion and I had decided to bring you to Cotti for a visit when you were eighteen, and then you would have met me. I had to be sure you were old enough to keep the secret, for even now, revealing my continued existence would stir up a great deal of trouble in Jashimari. I also wanted you to meet your brothers."

"I have brothers?"

"Yes, two. Shantar and Ashton. Shantar is the older, fourteen, and Ashton is twelve."

 

Blade finished his sandwich and doused the fire, then gathered provisions and stuffed them into a bag he found, while the women talked. When he had all that they would need, he returned to his pile of blankets and considered the bolt protruding from his arm once more. The pain had ebbed to a dull throbbing, and the prospect of renewing it held little attraction. The bolt had to be extracted, however, and it could be put off no longer. He touched the end of it, and winced as a hot spike of agony shot from it, turning his sweat cold. Noticing a lull in the women's conversation, he glanced up to find them watching him, Kerra with horror in her eyes.

"You need help with that, my lord," Minna stated. "I shall pull it out for you."

Blade's brows rose. "You, my Queen?"

"Why not? I am not afraid of blood. I have birthed three children, and had my share of pain."

"You are not strong, Minna. It must be jerked out swiftly, or it will be painful. I dislike pain."

"Minna?" Kerra stared at him in astonishment. "You call a Jashimari queen by her given name?"

"As I do you."

"But you said I was a child..."

Minna smiled. "I gave Blade permission to use my given name, Kerra. It was in the chamber where I took the Queen's Cup, as I lay dying."

"I see." Kerra studied the assassin, her eyes lingering on the protruding quarrel. "I shall remove the bolt."

Blade shook his head. "I think I should do it myself. At least I know what I am doing."

"Indeed?" Minna demanded. "And how many crossbow bolts have you removed, my lord?"

"None, but I have pulled out a lot of daggers."

"Out of dead people."

"Not always."

Kerra grimaced. "Must we discuss this? I think it will be easier for me, but let him try if he wishes. When he passes out from the pain, I will do it."

"Let her do it, Blade," Minna said.

He glanced from one to the other, a mocking smile curling his lips. "How flattering, to have two queens vying for the privilege of aiding me."

Kerra gasped and opened her mouth to refute this, but Minna smiled and murmured, "We must have you whole and hearty, my lord. Our future is in your hands."

Kerra hesitated, then nodded. "Indeed. We cannot risk you falling ill."

Disgruntled that Minna had foiled his attempt to tease the girl, the assassin shrugged. "Very well. Perhaps a little more wine will help to ease the pain."

"No." Minna shook her head. "We need you clear headed, for that soldier may well try to stop us from leaving."

He jumped up. "The horses."

Blade headed for the door, and Kerra trotted after him down the short stretch of corridor that led to the courtyard. When he reached the doorway, he stopped to gaze at the three animals standing in the shade outside, then turned to Kerra as she trotted up to him.

"We must leave this place before anything else goes wrong. Pull out the damned bolt."

She studied him. "You should sit down."

"Just do it."

 

Kerra lowered her gaze to the blood-encrusted wound and the ugly barbed quarrel that protruded from it. Fresh blood seeped down his arm and dripped from his fingers, staining the sand. Biting her lip, she gripped the sharp barbs and yanked it out, surprised at how firmly it was embedded. Blade hissed and leant against the wall, then slid down it, ending up sitting with his back to it. His pallor alarmed her, noticeable even under the skin dye.

Kerra squatted in front of him and pulled off his jacket, gulping as she studied the wound. It oozed dark blood from both sides of his biceps, and a bruise surrounded it. Tearing a strip from the hem of her jelabah, she bound his arm, ignoring his hiss and the glare he accorded her. When she finished, he turned to watch the horses.

"Fetch the brown dress from the pack and give it to your mother to change into, then go up the stairs to the room at the end of the corridor and bring me my wig. And bring the bag, we are leaving now."

"Should you not rest first?"

"Do you want Trelath to find us?"

"Of course not."

"Then do as I say," he said.

Kerra followed his directions, passing a body sprawled on the stairs and another slumped at the entrance to the room where Minna-Satu had been held prisoner, finding his wig on the floor. Averting her gaze from the swelling corpses, she went to the supply room and collected the bag. When she returned to the courtyard, Blade was redistributing the bags from the pack horse so Minna could ride it. He had changed into his cloth trousers and donned his Jelabah, ready to ride.

Kerra tied the extra bag to her horse, and Minna-Satu emerged from the keep, tottering over to them. Blade handed her one of the shawls, which she arranged into a veil and head covering. Kerra expected him to help the Elder Queen mount, but he indicated that she should. Minna swayed in the saddle, but pushed her feet into the stirrups and managed a wan smile. Blade scanned the crumbling walls with eyes narrowed to slits of silver, a dagger ready in his hand.

A movement jerked his gaze to a wall several yards away, and he flung the weapon as a man's head bobbed up and a crossbow string thrummed. The Cotti screamed and fell backwards as the dagger hit him in the cheek, clawing at the hilt. The quarrel thudded into the Minna's horse's shoulder, making the animal shy and grunt. Kerra clung to the beast's bridle, and Minna hung onto the saddle. Blade ran to the wall and vaulted over it. The soldier rolled about in agony, clutching the protruding hilt.

The dagger was wedged in his jawbone, and he could not pull it free. Blade slit his throat, then tugged the weapon out with some difficulty. After wiping the daggers on the dead man's tabard, he put them back in his belt and returned to the women, stopping beside the Queen's horse to examine its wound. Kerra still clung to its bridle, pale with shock, but Minna had regained her composure.

Blade glanced at Kerra. "Take hold of his ear and twist it hard."

She looked confused. "What for?"

"Just do as I say."

"I have a name," she snapped as she reached up to grip the grey gelding's ear, twisting it until the beast became still. Blade's hand flashed out in a blur, and the protruding quarrel vanished as if by magic. The horse flinched and groaned. Blade threw down the bloody bolt and strode to his horse. Kerra released the unfortunate animal's ear and mounted, following the assassin out of the oasis. The sky darkened as the sun lost its fury, burnishing the sand to deep gold. It seemed crazy to set out so late in the day, but she knew that it would do her no good to complain, especially with Blade in such a foul mood.

 

The doors to Kerrion's private bathing chamber were thrust open, and Jadar came in, waving a scrap of paper.

"Good news, Sire!"

Kerrion frowned, annoyed to be disturbed in the tub, and gestured to the manservant who was scrubbing his back to stop. "What news?"

"Prince Trelath has been found! A spy who was travelling with a caravan spotted him and his men riding across the desert, and he seemed to be in a great hurry."

Kerrion surged to his feet, slopping soapy water onto the floor. His servants wrapped a towel around him. "When? Where?"

"This morning, Sire. The spy is a man of sparrows, and his familiar delivered the message just minutes ago. Prince Trelath was to the west, some two days journey away. He was heading south."

"Two days!" Kerrion brushed past the advisor and strode into the adjoining room, where a map hung on the wall. His servants tried to dry him while he studied the map, using a finger to trace the various routes across the desert. "Directly west, you say, and heading south?"

"Yes, Sire."

"There is nothing there. Lord Ishmat's keep is north of there, so maybe that is where he was hiding, but there is nothing south of that for hundreds of leagues. If he turns further west, he will encounter the town of Tryanar, but there is nothing else in that area."

Jadar studied the map, frowning. "I am certain there used to be, Sire. In your father's day, I could have sworn there was a keep there."

Kerrion thrust his arm into the tunic a servant held for him, frowning at Jadar. "Then I need an old map. Find me one."

Jadar trotted out, leaving the King to dress. Kerrion knew that the advisor would have to go to the library that held the old archives, where such a map might be found, and chafed with impatience. Almost a time-glass later, Jadar returned, filmed with dust, but triumphant. Kerrion was clad and armoured, giving orders to an officer, who saluted and marched out when Jadar arrived.

Kerrion swung to face him. "You found it?"

"I did, Sire. A very old map indeed, from before your father's time. The keep in question belonged to a Lord Armatar, who insulted King Shandor's honour early on in his reign. King Shandor ordered him and his entire household slain, then torched his estate and salted the wells. The keep was removed from all maps, and Lord Armatar's name stricken from the history books. I remember it because I was here when it happened."

"What was Armatar's crime?"

Jadar pulled a wry face. "He refused to give King Shandor his daughter in marriage. Apparently the girl favoured a young lord, and Armatar had promised her to him. Your father was mortally insulted by Armatar's insistence upon honouring the prior arrangement, and Lord Armatar paid the price."

"And the girl?"

"She was slain with the rest of her family, as well as their servants and livestock. Nothing of Armatar's was spared."

Kerrion took the fragile, dusty map and spread it on a table, tracing long forgotten routes that led to a keep marked boldly where modern maps were blank.

"The perfect hiding place. An estate my father wiped from maps and memory. Even from the grave, he reaches out to harm me. Have a scribe copy this onto a new map so I may take it with me. This one is falling apart."

"Yes, Sire." Jadar gathered up the crumbling parchment and hurried out again.

Kerrion walked over to the window and gazed out of it, narrowing his eyes against the shimmering glare of the pale city. Something had flushed Trelath from hiding, for until now, the Prince had been careful to keep his movements hidden, which was why no spy had found him before. He had probably travelled at night when other travellers were asleep, and his destination proved that he was hurrying to the place where he held Minna captive. The question that ate at Kerrion was why. What had happened to make him break cover and rush across the desert in broad daylight, risking discovery to reach his hostage? The answer he dreaded was that something bad had happened to Minna.

When Jadar returned with the map, Kerrion marched down to the courtyard, where his men awaited him. Within minutes, a cavalcade of mounted men galloped from the palace, an entire platoon of dog soldiers and a company of horsemen. Kerrion led them, his eagle soaring high above amongst a veritable flock of eagles, hawks, falcons and crows.