the desert, I shall see to it that these abominable practices are stopped." Blade shook his head, and the Prince went on, "I shall appoint overseers and employ spies to ensure this. I know that is the only way."
Blade uncorked a water skin and washed the bread down, then rose to saddle the Prince's horse.
Kerrion scowled at him, frustrated by his silence. "Do you not have anything to say?"
The assassin shrugged. "I doubt you will get the opportunity."
"When I tell your queen, I am sure I shall. War is one thing, but these atrocities must be stopped."
"And you do not think that war itself is an atrocity?"
"We fight for our honour and defend our land."
Blade snorted. "Honour! What would you know about that? And why would the Jashimari try to invade your god-forsaken desert? What do you have that we would want? Your wealth is measured in tonnes of useless sand."
"The Cotti are a rich people. We have beautiful cities and great oases, as well as plenty of gold. Your queens have ever been fond of gold."
"She has so much of the damned stuff that she has built her palace from it. What would she want with more?" Blade tightened the horse's girth with an angry jerk. "No, it was the Cotti who tried to invade Jashimari land, envious of our fertile soil and abundance."
Kerrion glanced around at the chill mist. "No Cotti would wish to live in such a cold, wet place as this."
"No Jashimari would want to be boiled to death in your damned desert, nor stricken with its plagues. So I do not know what we are fighting about, nor do I care."
"No one knows what we are fighting about any more."
"Then I do not know why we bother," Blade retorted. "Nor do I wish to argue about it."
When the Prince had finished his bread, Blade hooded him and boosted him into the saddle.
Chapter Seven
Two days later, they reached the city of Jondar, capital of Jashimari lands. Kerrion's hooded form drew curious stares from the populace as they rode through the crowded streets. Blade opened the neck of his tunic to display the tattoo at the base of his throat, well known as the mark of an assassin, which deflected any curious enquiries. It was rare to see an assassin abroad in public, even more uncommon in daylight and displaying his mark, which, in itself, aroused some unwelcome curiosity, and loitering city guards eyed the passing pair.
At the palace gates, two sentries crossed their spears in front of Blade's horse and forced him to stop, then demanded his business.
"I am the assassin Blade, returning from the front on the Queen's business, with a prisoner," he informed them.
The men studied him, noted the tattoo and stepped aside, grounding their spears. Blade urged his tired mount forward as one of the soldiers signalled to the men who manned the massive gates. The gilded barrier was pulled open, and he rode into the forecourt of the Queen's palace. Grooms ran up to take the horses, and Blade dragged the hooded Prince down. More guards approached, offering to take the prisoner, but Blade declined, leading Kerrion towards the palace, and four guards fell into step with him.
In the audience chamber, he was told to wait, and he removed Kerrion's hood, allowing the Prince his first sight of the gold-sheathed walls of Queen Minna-Satu's palace. Kerrion glanced about without betraying any expression, soon losing interest in his surroundings and turning to the assassin.
"Am I to be taken to the Queen in this state?" He glanced down at his travel-stained clothes.
"There is no need to primp yourself, Prince, I am sure she does not care what you look like."
"I thought perhaps she was unused to dealing with dirty, unshaven men who stink of horse and sweat. Does she keep such company then?"
"Insult the Queen at your peril. I will add a few bloodstains to your attire if you persist."
"You do not present yourself in such a state," the Prince pointed out, his gaze raking Blade's clean leather clothes and glossy hair. The assassin had bathed in
Blade uncorked a water skin and washed the bread down, then rose to saddle the Prince's horse.
Kerrion scowled at him, frustrated by his silence. "Do you not have anything to say?"
The assassin shrugged. "I doubt you will get the opportunity."
"When I tell your queen, I am sure I shall. War is one thing, but these atrocities must be stopped."
"And you do not think that war itself is an atrocity?"
"We fight for our honour and defend our land."
Blade snorted. "Honour! What would you know about that? And why would the Jashimari try to invade your god-forsaken desert? What do you have that we would want? Your wealth is measured in tonnes of useless sand."
"The Cotti are a rich people. We have beautiful cities and great oases, as well as plenty of gold. Your queens have ever been fond of gold."
"She has so much of the damned stuff that she has built her palace from it. What would she want with more?" Blade tightened the horse's girth with an angry jerk. "No, it was the Cotti who tried to invade Jashimari land, envious of our fertile soil and abundance."
Kerrion glanced around at the chill mist. "No Cotti would wish to live in such a cold, wet place as this."
"No Jashimari would want to be boiled to death in your damned desert, nor stricken with its plagues. So I do not know what we are fighting about, nor do I care."
"No one knows what we are fighting about any more."
"Then I do not know why we bother," Blade retorted. "Nor do I wish to argue about it."
When the Prince had finished his bread, Blade hooded him and boosted him into the saddle.
Chapter Seven
Two days later, they reached the city of Jondar, capital of Jashimari lands. Kerrion's hooded form drew curious stares from the populace as they rode through the crowded streets. Blade opened the neck of his tunic to display the tattoo at the base of his throat, well known as the mark of an assassin, which deflected any curious enquiries. It was rare to see an assassin abroad in public, even more uncommon in daylight and displaying his mark, which, in itself, aroused some unwelcome curiosity, and loitering city guards eyed the passing pair.
At the palace gates, two sentries crossed their spears in front of Blade's horse and forced him to stop, then demanded his business.
"I am the assassin Blade, returning from the front on the Queen's business, with a prisoner," he informed them.
The men studied him, noted the tattoo and stepped aside, grounding their spears. Blade urged his tired mount forward as one of the soldiers signalled to the men who manned the massive gates. The gilded barrier was pulled open, and he rode into the forecourt of the Queen's palace. Grooms ran up to take the horses, and Blade dragged the hooded Prince down. More guards approached, offering to take the prisoner, but Blade declined, leading Kerrion towards the palace, and four guards fell into step with him.
In the audience chamber, he was told to wait, and he removed Kerrion's hood, allowing the Prince his first sight of the gold-sheathed walls of Queen Minna-Satu's palace. Kerrion glanced about without betraying any expression, soon losing interest in his surroundings and turning to the assassin.
"Am I to be taken to the Queen in this state?" He glanced down at his travel-stained clothes.
"There is no need to primp yourself, Prince, I am sure she does not care what you look like."
"I thought perhaps she was unused to dealing with dirty, unshaven men who stink of horse and sweat. Does she keep such company then?"
"Insult the Queen at your peril. I will add a few bloodstains to your attire if you persist."
"You do not present yourself in such a state," the Prince pointed out, his gaze raking Blade's clean leather clothes and glossy hair. The assassin had bathed in
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