palace?'
'Several.'
Kerrion pondered the new information, watching the assassin flip the dagger into the air and catch it again. 'You know, just testifying to the judges will not be enough, you will have to prove that you killed my father.'
'I know.'
'You will have to wear the same disguise.'
'Obviously.'
'I thought you hated it.'
Blade paused in his dagger flipping to stare into space. 'I do.'
'Then why are you doing this?' Kerrion gestured, confused. 'You claim to care about nothing and no one. Why would you put yourself through this humiliation for the Queen? You told me yourself that you would kill her if someone paid you. Yet you travel into Cotti lands, knowing, I am sure, that you have little chance of leaving them alive, even with my help. Why?'
Blade toyed with the dagger, appearing unconcerned. 'I do not care if I die. Have you not realised that yet? I might have been discovered in your father's camp the night I killed him. I have spent my life courting death, yet it will not have me.
'The danger of my situation does not bother me, only saving you sticks in my craw. But the life of a Cotti prince will be apt reward for saving one, do you not think? Perhaps this time death will take me, who knows? What do I have to look forward to? A long happy life with a devoted wife, cared for in my dotage by my sons and daughters? The Cotti stole my future, and I will take as many of their futures as possible.'
'Vengeance.'
'It is a sweet cup with bitter dregs, but I have grown accustomed to it. I have drunk my fill of it, yet it is never empty.' Blade walked over to the window and stared into the darkness, where lights twinkled in the streets below. 'I am the empty one.'
'You are a strange man. There are people who care about you, yet you shun them.'
Blade turned to sweep the Prince with a hard glance. 'I tire of this conversation. Your morbid fascination for prying into my life annoys me.'
'I am trying to understand you is all.'
'So that you may find my weakness?' Blade gave a snort of laughter. 'I have none.' He started towards the curtains through which he had appeared.
Kerrion jumped up. 'Where are you going?'
'I have to sleep.'
'Stay here if you wish.'
Blade paused, raising a mocking brow. 'And awake in chains? I think not.'
'What good would that do me? I need your testimony.'
'True. But if you expect me to trust a Cotti, you are sadly mistaken.' Blade vanished through the curtains.
'I will see you tomorrow then, at dawn!' Kerrion called after him.
The Prince sank back in his chair and poured a fresh goblet of wine. He pondered the sudden and unexpected turn of events as he sipped it. The impossible presence of the Jashimari assassin in his city, in his palace, and even, unnervingly, in his room, still stunned him a little. Blade's stealth was extraordinary, and he wondered how the assassin had avoided the many guards around and in the palace.
Kerrion's mother, coming from the harem, was able to use secret passages to gain admittance, but Blade had come from outside. He had eluded scores of guards to enter the Prince's room. His respect for the assassin grew as he considered this remarkable feat, long thought to be impossible. Blade's presence and mission brought fresh hope to brighten the Prince's gloomy thoughts, pushing aside the despair that had been taking hold of him.
The amazing news of the child Minna carried also brought a surge of wonder and fresh tenderness for the Jashimari Queen. The night of passion he had spent with the red-haired maiden, though wine fogged and strangely muddled, had stayed with him ever since. His lack of self-control had baffled him, and he had woken alone and guilt ridden the next day. Now many pieces of the puzzle fell into place, and he experienced a wry admiration for her high-handed manipulation of events.
It seemed that Minna-Satu liked to have her own way, and usually did. Even he could not gainsay her, and he wondered if Blade was the only one who could. He did not doubt for a moment that the assassin was immune to the Queen's blandishments, but did her will solely because he wished to do it. That she had succeeded in gaining his co-operation in this venture was admirable, but the price was Lerton's life, for which he doubted that she would otherwise have asked. Gravely he raised his glass towards the northern wall, smiling.
'My thanks, Minna.'
Setting aside the cup, he pulled out a sheet of parchment and dipped his quill into the ink well, pausing to ponder the words he must set down to ensure Blade's safety. The task galled him. He would rather see the assassin lynched for killing his father, but his word had been given and Blade's threat was not an empty one, he knew. After a moment of contemplation, he began to write.
Chapter Eighteen
Blade rose at dawn and brushed the straw from his clothes, then stretched and yawned. The night spent in the palace stables had been peaceful, and the deep bed of straw had provided a pleasant resting place. Digging out the bag he had secreted there the night before, he consumed a frugal breakfast of biscuits and water before dampening a cloth and beginning the long transformation he hated so much. This time, however, he donned the female clothes over his own, and applied the skin dye only to those parts of him that were exposed.
After he had applied the kohl to his eyes and berry juice to his lips, he forced the earrings through the long- unused holes in his earlobes with a grimace. He studied the disguise in his mirror, brushed the blond wig and tucked away errant strands of jet hair, then donned jingling bangles and a cheap necklace. Satisfied, he reburied his bag and rose to brush straw from his skirts, checking the daggers strapped to his wrists inside his sleeves. Covering his hair with a rippling length of blue silk, he wandered from the barn with a woman's graceful, swaying gait.
Several of the guards he passed on his way to Kerrion's rooms winked and leered, and one tried to pinch his bottom. Along the way he pilfered a bottle of wine, then walked to Kerrion's door and knocked. The guards who stood outside it grinned at him, and Blade smiled and lowered his eyes. A gruff command to enter made a guard open the door, and Blade strolled into the Crown Prince's boudoir. Kerrion sat on the rumpled bed with his hair still tangled from sleep, and looked up from lacing his boots. He scowled when Blade thumped the wine bottle down on the table.
'What is this? I did not order wine. Get out.'
Blade spoke in his own voice. 'So it is true that Cotti men treat their women like slaves. No wonder you do it to Jashimari children too.'
Kerrion grimaced. 'Blade. The guards let you in?'
'Naturally. All they saw was a serving maid with a bottle of wine.'
The prince straightened and studied the assassin. 'No wonder you fool everyone. I did not have the opportunity to appreciate the perfection of your disguise on the night you abducted me.'
'I did not come here for you to admire me. Let's get on with this.'
Kerrion picked up an embroidered white tunic and shrugged it on. 'I was starting to wonder if you had lost your nerve.'
Blade glared at him. 'You should learn to curb your tongue, antagonising me is not a good idea.'
Kerrion completed his ablutions before summoning his familiar from her perch, and the guards snapped to attention as the prince marched past with the eagle perched on his shoulder, Blade following. The assassin found the walk through the palace educational, noting the corridors and rooms they passed through with keen interest. Its echoing emptiness struck him as amusing, but the decor's sheer opulence more than compensated for the lack of furnishings.
The desert mines were rich in many things besides metal, and, in some rooms, rows of quartz pillars
