Sacred Knight of the Veil (21 page)

"And Dravis?"

Shamsara shook his head. "Oh no, Dravis is too clever to show his hand until the other players have shown theirs. At the moment, he is blameless."

Blade gazed into the forest, pondering. "I could leave Kerra here."

"No, you must take her with you."

"Why? She is a burden. She will slow me down."

"She may help you, too."

"How?"

The Idol smiled. "Soon, she will find her familiar."

"Something useful, is it?"

"Very."

"If I find Minna-Satu, Kerra will find out that her mother lives."

Shamsara nodded. "I think it is time she did. She is old enough to keep the secret upon her return to Jashimari, and I think it will do her good to meet Minna-Satu."

"Probably. It amazes me that Minna's life with Kerrion has remained a secret all these years."

"That is mostly due to your account of Minna's death. Rumours have circulated from time to time, but Chiana refuses to believe them, and has even threatened to have the liars punished. To say such a thing has become tantamount to heresy, and no one dares to spread such tales anymore."

Blade sighed, then smiled. "You are sending me on a fool's errand, Idol, but Minna-Satu sent me on worse in the past. Perhaps you know I will not live to discover your lie, so you make me this insane promise to restore Rivan to me. After all, you are a seer."

"I do not see all things, nor as clearly as you think. Yes, there is a chance that you may die, but if you live, I will restore Rivan to you. I swear it."

The assassin chuckled. "A simple job, this. Take the heir to the Jashimari throne to Cotti, and protect her from harm in a patriarchal society where young girls are snatched from their fathers' fortified harems. Find the Queen, who even the Cotti King cannot find in his own land, and restore her to him, while protecting her from a mad prince. It is impossible. No wonder you promise me the impossible as payment."

"It is possible, but only you can do it."

"Then I shall." Blade stepped closer to glare into the Idol's eyes. "And I will return to see that you keep your promise, old man."

"I am counting on it." The Idol of the Beasts smiled, his eyes filled with the wisdom of the ages, and laid a hand upon the assassin's shoulder once more. Blade glanced at it in annoyance, but Shamsara removed it before he could shrug it off.

"Good luck." Shamsara turned and walked away, and the forest swallowed him up as if by magic.

Blade stared after him, then went to the log where Kerra waited. She jumped up at his approach, scanning the trees behind him with hopeful eyes.

"Where is Shamsara?"

"Gone."

"But I wanted to speak to him."

"Maybe that is why he left."

Kerra headed towards the trees with a determined air, but he took hold of her arm and swung her around, wincing as his ribs protested.

"You will not find him. Come, I have much to do."

She pouted, but followed him across the fields towards the city, trotting to keep up. "You are going to do as he asked?"

"Yes."

"Will it not be dangerous?"

"Yes."

"But what about me?"

He shot her a frown. "You are coming too."

She fell silent for a while, then asked, "Do you really think he can give you back your familiar?"

"I intend to find out."

"And if he cannot?"

"Then he will answer to his god, in whose sight he swore an oath to me."

When they reached the city, Blade went to the inn and asked the proprietor for directions to the woman healer's house. The man's instructions led them to a modest domicile in a side street, which stood out by virtue of a fresh coat of whitewash. A manservant showed them into a cosy, book-lined room furnished with overstuffed chairs. After several minutes, a tall, bony woman with an equine face and soft brown eyes came in. Her long brown hair was pulled back in a bun, and she wore a simple brown shift belted at the waist with a braided yellow rope.

The healer smiled and invited them into a smaller room, this one lined with shelves that held a plethora of books, jars, vials, pouches and dried herbs, as well as a few shrivelled, unidentifiable objects. Her eyes lingered on Blade, since Kerra was obviously robust, and she gestured to a well-scrubbed table. The assassin perched on the edge of it, ill at ease. He had always hated healers, with their cold hands that prodded and poked in all the most painful places, and the way they then peered into his twisted face and asked, "Does that hurt?"

Crella smiled and studied him with bright, interested eyes. "So, how may I help you?"

"I have a cracked rib, I think."

"And this?" She gestured to his throat, where bruises were visible above his collar.

"A dog. It is not serious."

"Remove your jacket and shirt, if you please."

The healer's eyes widened at the sight of his mark, then flicked to the dagger sheaths strapped to his wrists. Kerra stifled a gasp when he removed the bandage that bound his ribs, revealing a huge blackened area on the right side of his chest. The last time she had seen it, there had only been a red mark, now it looked much worse. The healer bent to peer at it, but did not touch him.

"Lift your arm."

Blade stopped when he had raised it no more than halfway, frowning. "That hurts."

"Of course it does." She studied the bruise. "A sword stroke, I would guess."

He nodded, lowering his arm when she straightened.

"Yes, you definitely have at least one cracked rib, maybe two. Patients usually know what is wrong with them, unless it is a disease. If you drop a cart on your foot, you know that it is broken, do you not? You do not need me to poke and prod it to find out that it hurts."

She turned to peruse her shelves. "I can give you something that will speed the healing threefold, but you must keep it strapped and do nothing strenuous for at least a tenday. Judging by the bruise, it happened about five days ago, right?"

Blade nodded.

"If you had come to me then, it would have been much improved already. But I suppose you do not like healers, do you?"

He frowned at her. "Are you reading my mind?"

She chuckled. "I do not have to. Horse kin are sensitive, and you are the first assassin who has ever come to me for treatment."

"Most healers will not treat an assassin, so I usually look after myself."

"This is Dramali. Healers treat far worse than assassins here." She selected a jar and decanted a white powder into an empty bottle.

"Why are you here?" Kerra asked, and Blade shot her a quelling look.

The healer smiled as she capped the jar and reached for another. "My father is a smuggler."

"Does he go to Cotti?"

"Kess!" Blade said.

The healer sifted a little brown powder in with the white. "Yes, actually he is leaving for Darjaran the day after tomorrow. It is a little east of the capital, Jadaya. Do you know Cotti?"

Blade glared at Kerra. "No."

"Then I suppose you want to go to Jadaya." She corked the jar and put it back on the shelf, then scanned the other containers. "He will take you if I ask him, but he will charge you, of course."

Kerra smirked at Blade. "I suppose Bla-Claw should not ride, should he?"

"No. Even travelling in a wagon will not be good for him. He should stay in bed for at least five days." Blade snorted, and she glanced at him. "Of course, he will not."

Blade pondered her words. "Your father is not the curious sort, is he?"

She laughed, selected a third container and sniffed it. "A smuggler? No. You pay half in advance and half when you arrive, no questions asked."

"How much?"

"Usually about fifty gold pieces." She poured a little black powder into the mixture and put the vial back on the shelf. "If you want to go, be on the southern road outside town at dusk, the day after tomorrow. I will tell him to look out for you."

Crella corked the bottle and shook it as she turned to the assassin, then put it down and picked up his bandage.

"Try to make this tight when you put it on again yourself. Perhaps your apprentice can help you." She wound the cloth around his ribs, pulling it so tight that he grimaced. "An interesting collection of scars, elder. Burns, these." She indicated the ones on his chest. "Torture, I suppose. And the one on your back was made by an arrow?"

"Crossbow bolt."

"In the lung. You were lucky to survive."

"I know."

She tied the bandage off and ran a finger along a slight, pale scar on his shoulder, one of many that marked his chest and arms. "These are puzzling. Knife cuts?"

"Glass."

The healer peered at a small pink scar on his chest with a frown. "That looks like a stab wound, but if it was, you should be dead."

"It is, and I should be." He picked up his shirt and pulled it on before she could ask about any of the others.

As he shrugged into his jacket, she handed him the bottle of powder she had mixed. "Take it twice a day. A spoonful mixed with water, not ale. It will help with the bruises on your throat as well, and the crossbow wound in your shoulder, although that is almost healed."

He pulled out his money pouch and waited while she pondered, then she said, "Five silvers, elder."

Blade paid her and headed for the door, eager to quit her scrutiny. Crella smiled at Kerra as she turned to follow the assassin, commenting, "It is good to see a female apprentice in such a male dominated trade, my dear."

Kerra shot her a startled glance, then grinned, ignoring Blade's dark look as she walked through the door he held open. The assassin paused to give the healer a suspicious look before he followed the Queen into the waiting room, where the manservant showed them to the front door.

Blade laced his jacket as he headed back towards the inn, his keen eyes scanning the shops they passed for one that might sell some of the items he was going to need. Dusk filled the grimy streets with puddles of gloom, and most of the shopkeepers were preparing to shut up for the night.

Two men staggered out of a tavern ahead, locked in a grunting brawl, and several spectators followed, shouting encouragement. The assassin turned into a dark alley to avoid the crowd, picking his way through the garbage that choked it. They emerged into a wider street, and he continued in the direction of the inn. Halfway along it, he spotted a promising shop and pushed open the door, entering a cosy, well-lighted establishment.

The shopkeeper served a fat, overdressed woman who wore far too much face paint. She paled at Blade's entry and put down the wares she had been examining to hurry out. Kerra glanced around at the selection of gowns, wigs and cosmetics that seemed to be the shop's only merchandise. Blade went over to a rack of dresses and inspected a flowing creation of blue cotton trimmed with white lace. He took it from the rack and held it against Kerra, cocking his head to study it.

"What are you doing?" she muttered.

"Be quiet."

Blade selected a more sedate garment of pale brown fabric with yellow beading, then a simple white calico dress. They had long sleeves and high necklines, but the brown dress was smaller than the white one. Satisfied with his selection, he put them on the counter, then chose two shawls, one red and the other pale blue. Adding these to the gowns, he examined the wigs, but did not appear to find one he liked, and approached the merchant.

The man twitched with agitation, and Blade wondered how often he was robbed in this town of thieves. To allay his fears, Blade tugged open his collar, and the shopkeeper relaxed at the sight of the tattoo.

"How may I help you, elder?"

"I require a blonde wig, for a woman."

"Ah." The man's eyes darted to his selection of black, brown, and red wigs. "I can get one for you, of course."

"By tomorrow?"

"If you wish."

Blade nodded. "I do."

"Very good, elder."

"And have these gowns wrapped and ready for me to collect tomorrow."

"Of course." The merchant opened the door for them, bowing. Outside, Kerra trotted to keep up with Blade's long strides.

"You are going to disguise yourself as a woman?"

"Only if I must."

Kerra giggled. "I look forward to seeing that."

"I am sure it will amuse you immensely."

"Lucky for you, I found us a passage with the smugglers."

"That remains to be seen."

She shot him a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"

"Smugglers are not exactly honest, Kerra. They do not usually take passengers on their trips, it is risky for them. It will not surprise me if this smuggler tries to knock us on the head and steal our money."

"Then he would be a murderer."

"And a thief, but a crook is a crook. Most combine a variety of talents to exploit whatever situation comes along. Our smuggler could decide that murder would be profitable in our case." He smiled. "Oddly enough, I am considered an honest citizen in this town, for assassins are forbidden to dabble in other profitable pursuits."

"You have yet to teach me the rules of the Assassin's Guild."

"I was only teaching you the basics to allay the suspicions of any spies who might be about. You are not going to become an assassin."

"I know. But still, I would like to learn more."

"Doubtless you will if you continue to plague me with questions."

A scream ripped through the quiet, making Blade start and spin towards the sound, his hands flashing to the daggers in his belt. Kerra gasped and grabbed his arm, but he shook her off, gazing down the alley whence the shriek had come. Two men scuffled and grunted in the gloom, wrestling with a woman who yelped and kicked out spiritedly. Blade snorted and relaxed, straightening from the half crouch into which he had fallen. He walked on, but Kerra grabbed his arm again.

"Help her, Blade!"

"It is not my business."

"But she is in trouble!" Kerra tried to hold him back, and he jerked his arm from her grip.

"I know."

"They are robbing her!"

"They are probably going to do worse than that, but it is still not my concern." The assassin stopped when he realised that the girl was not following him. "Come along."