Mendal frowned at the three lords. "So, Bellcamp has been discovered through his foolishness in trying to hire an assassin to kill one of his own. The point is, what are we going to do about it?"
"You are the advisor," Javare retorted.
"Bellcamp will have to leave the city, of course," Mendal said, turning to address the bearded lord. "Where will you go?"
"I have a sister in Luxborg," Bellcamp said with surly indifference. "I shall stay with her."
"We must kill the assassin," Durlan asserted, frowning.
"Which one?" Mendal enquired.
"Both, preferably, but particularly the bastard who lives in the palace."
"It is Scar's head that I want," Bellcamp snarled. "He is the one who betrayed me."
"That will not be easy," Mendal pointed out. "He is a good assassin, I have heard. He will not be an easy target, and you will find few willing to take him on."
"We had no problem with Blade."
"It is well known that Blade is no fighter, but Scar, by all accounts, is a different matter."
Bellcamp snorted, swinging away to pace the length of the room. "Then we should get rid of Blade. At least that would prevent him from learning more from his cronies."
Mendal shook his head with a sigh. "There is no more to learn. No one else will try to hire an assassin to kill him, and now he has a bodyguard, so he too is a hard target. The Prince has been sent back to the desert, and the war continues unabated, so whatever the Queen had planned to bring about peace has failed. I say we leave well enough alone. Our kidnapping Blade had the unexpected effect of making the Queen send the Prince home, thus breaking off her discussions with Kerrion. There is no point in doing anything more. We have succeeded."
"We have to avenge Mordon's death," Durlan said.
"The Queen ordered it, My Lord, Blade was just the tool. According to our laws, she is responsible. Do you propose to kill her?"
Durlan looked away from Mendal's glassy stare. "Of course not."
"Then I say we lie low and see what develops. Bellcamp will go to Luxborg, where I daresay he will have to spend the remainder of his days, for to return to Jondar would be suicide."
Bellcamp shrugged. "I shall not miss it."
"Good, then we are agreed."
"I will put a price on that bastard's head before I go," Bellcamp avowed. "If he ever comes into the city without his bodyguard, he will die."
"Lord Conash is not to blame," Javare said, breaking his sombre silence. "As Mendal has pointed out, the Queen sanctioned Mordon's death."
"That is not the reason for it," Bellcamp argued, shooting Javare a glare. "If not for Blade, Mordon would be alive. The courts would not have convicted him for trying to kill a Cotti Prince. Because of him, Prince Kerrion was sent back to the desert, and now the threat of him hangs over us like an executioner's axe. We should have killed him when we had the chance. He will only get in our way again."
Mendal shook his head. "Providing the Queen makes no further attempts to stop the war, we have no reason to set ourselves against her."
Bellcamp snorted, raking the advisor with a scathing glance. "You of all people should know that Queen Minna-Satu does not give up so easily."
"She has spoken with Kerrion and failed. What more can she do?"
"I do not know, but I will wager that she will think of something."
"Let us not build any bridges where there are no rivers, My Lord. When we know in which direction she is going, then we can start thinking about how to stop her. Until then, we do nothing."
Two tendays after Blade had recovered from his wounds, the advisor Symion returned from the front with four prospective consorts for the Queen. Although she praised his diligence, the Queen sent Symion away without considering any of the young men, merely ordering that they should be housed in the palace. This puzzled all but Blade, who did not bother to enlighten anyone, not even Chiana, despite her accusing stares, or perhaps because of them.
An uneasy tranquillity settled upon the palace, which deep currents of suspicion and anticipation underscored, as if everyone held their breath. The only one this did not touch was Blade, who ignored the whispers around and about him, going blithely about his business. Several times he gave Lirek the slip long enough to enjoy some solitary drinking, and even once to perform an assassination for a merchant client.
Minna-Satu affected contentment, hiding her unhappiness behind a facade of well-being. Her daily routine went unchanged, though perhaps she showed a little more zeal than previously, as if to provide a distraction from her thoughts. Her countenance remained gloomy, despite the antics of monkey-kin jesters and graceful flamingo-kin dancers.
Blade was exercising in the garden when Chiana appeared through the hedgerows bearing a plain, grubby missive. She paused to admire him in the moment before he revealed that he was aware of her presence, and he raised mocking brows when he turned from his fluid movements to face her. Looking embarrassed, she held out the letter, turning away without a word when he took it.
Blade frowned at her back, wondering why the Queen's chief advisor should be the one to deliver a missive to him, then shrugged it off and tore it open. The scrawl within was barely legible, though written with great care and smudged with dirty fingerprints and tears. Blade sighed as he finished reading it, and raised his head to gaze around at the sunlit garden.
His retainers had rejected Lilu, despite the letter he had given her, which they had dismissed as a forgery. She was now living in someone's barn, working as a milk maid in utter squalor. Her predicament did not unduly trouble him, but her letter gave him a good reason to travel to his estate, which he longed to see. His request to see the Queen was granted, as always, and she smiled at him when he bowed to her.
"My Lord Conash, it is good to see you. Since your remarkable recovery, I have scarcely had your company."
"You are busy, My Queen. I do not wish to intrude."
Minna-Satu waved it away. "You never intrude. Would you care for lunch?"
"No, thank you. I have come about a matter of some importance to myself."
The Queen sighed and sank onto a mound of silken cushions, glancing at the sand cat who slumbered in a patch of late autumn sunlight. Shista's ears and whiskers twitched as she hunted prey in the land of dreams, her paws jerking.
"So," Minna grumbled, "you have not come for the pleasure of my company, but for some favour."
Blade hesitated, surprised by her testy tone and obvious displeasure. Minna glance up at him and gestured to the floor in front of her. "Do not loom over me, Blade, sit."
He settled on a cushion. "I have not come for a favour, My Queen, only to inform you that I shall be visiting my estate."
Minna's brows rose. "To inform me? Not to ask permission?"
"No." Blade leant forward, frowning. "Whatever is troubling you, I ask that you put it aside for the moment. I have done nothing to deserve such rancour."
"No?" Minna jumped up and strode over to the window, staring out. "You have disobeyed me on numerous occasions, defied my wishes and flouted my instructions. You have even refused to answer my questions, for which a lesser man might have lost his head. I, on the other hand, have rewarded you richly, elevated your rank to one of the highest in the land, and saved your life. For all this, you do not see fit to ask my permission to leave? You brashly announce that you will be leaving, without asking me if I can spare you?"