"He would not even give his name," Chiana hurried on, "and he was strange looking."
"How so?"
She shrugged, pondering the question with a slight frown. "I could not describe it, just strange."
"Well, did he have a big nose, or one eye? What?"
"No, nothing like that, in fact, I thought him handsome, but… he was not ordinary."
The Queen cocked her head. "Then he must be extraordinary. My curiosity is aroused. Show me this stranger."
"But, My Queen, is it safe? He seemed… dangerous, I thought."
Minna-Satu glanced at Shista, stretched out asleep in a patch of sunlight. "Have him searched and stripped to the waist; bring me any weapons you find."
Chiana looked doubtful, but made her prostration and left. Minna picked at a bowl of plump, bite-sized dil fruit while she waited, and was growing impatient by the time the two guards who stood outside pushed open the doors. Chiana entered and abased herself before rising to approach her Queen. Minna studied the man who walked behind her, a glance telling her more than Chiana had. He was a man of cats, and moved with the lithe grace of his kind, but more, he was an assassin, his trade clearly evident from the black dagger tattoo at the base of his throat.
When Chiana stopped, the assassin dropped to one knee and bowed his head, a gesture of respect that was by no means a prostration. Minna glanced at Shista, who snored in the sun. She turned her attention to Chiana as the advisor held out two slender daggers.
"He carried only these."
Minna nodded and looked at the man again. "Get up."
The assassin stood and raised his head, his gaze meeting hers for a moment. The odd colour of his eyes struck her, a pale grey ringed with darkness, like a winter sky lighted by a silver sun in eclipse. Never had she encountered a gaze so frigid that its brief touch made her shiver. A leather thong caught his long black hair at his nape, and a few strands straggled across his pale cheek. A red mark marred his lean jaw, and a speck of blood leaked from one side of his narrow nose. The grim set of his well-formed mouth spoilt its sensuality, and his fine brows were pulled together in a frown. Taken as a whole, his countenance possessed a fineness of feature not usually associated with the burly, hirsute inclination of his sex. His torso also bore the marks of fresh abuse, and his hands were clenched at his sides.
Minna was struck by the strangeness Chiana had seen, but unable to pin it down. Beneath his handsome appearance dwelt something deeper and far more sinister, which puzzled her. His expression betrayed his anger, but his eyes contained a deeper rage, an inner turmoil that burnt from his gaze, even though it was directed at her feet. He also lacked something, she realised as she struggled to identify his peculiarity. Although he was definitely a man of cats, betrayed by his lean build and graceful gait, his feline traits were slight, hardly noticeable to one who was unobservant.
Breaking with tradition, the Queen rose and approached him, rewarded by his brief, startled glance. He stood a mere half a head taller than she, not a big man by any measure, and he did not seem to mind being taller than the Queen, something others dreaded. On closer scrutiny, she noticed an oddity that had not immediately struck her. His cheeks were as smooth as a young boy's, yet he appeared to be several years older than she. Minna-Satu cast Chiana a probing glance.
"Why does he bear the marks of ill treatment?"
"I was told that he resisted the search, My Queen."
"And what had he to hide?"
Chiana shrugged. "Nothing."
"Well, Chiana, you are most unobservant." Minna's tone held a hint of censure. "Even now, I see more in him than you could tell me. He is a man of cats, and, I would say, one driven by a great hatred. Moreover, he is an assassin."
Chiana gasped, and her glance flew to the man, who shot the Queen a startled look. "An assassin?"
"Yes, do you not see the tattoo at his throat?"
"Now I do, but before it was hidden."
Minna appraised the man once more. He kept his eyes lowered, but a muscle in his jaw jumped, betraying his wish to speak. He awaited her permission, however, as he must.
She smiled. "I know one other thing, but that I will not tell you. All that remains a mystery is why he is here."
"If he is an assassin -"
"He would not have requested an audience, and besides, no one would wish me dead except the Cotti, and he is clearly Jashimari." Minna glanced at her slumbering familiar. "His presence does not bother Shista, so he bears me no ill will. You may return his weapons and leave us. I have decided to grant him an audience."
Chiana opened her mouth to protest, then shut it again. She held out the daggers, and the assassin took them with a nod. The chief advisor strode to the doors and yanked them open with unnecessary vigour. Under Minna's hard eyes, she closed them softly behind her. The Queen returned to her cushions and sank down with a sigh, gazing up at the slender man.
"What is your name?"
"I am called Blade… My Queen," he replied in a soft, husky voice, deep enough to be unmistakeably male, but pitched pleasantly above the rich baritone of most men, which Minna often found irritating. He would make a pleasing conversationalist, if he had the intelligence to hold a good discussion. He spoke decisively, and lacked the mumbling subservience of most commoners in her presence.
Minna gestured to the floor. "Sit. Tell me what you will."
Blade settled on a cushion and tucked his daggers away. He licked his lips, and his mouth relaxed and frown faded. Without it, he looked much better, Minna thought. He glanced at her, then away again, and she got the impression that the speech he had readied for this occasion had deserted him. She plucked a fruit and popped it into her mouth, casting an irritated glance at Shista, who continued to snore, oblivious to the stranger.
The assassin raised his head. "I have heard that you offer a mighty reward for the death of King Shandor."
Minna nodded, unsurprised. "To my soldiers. If I wished to hire an assassin, I would have done so."
"But an assassin is what you need."
Minna plucked another fruit. "Is that why you have come? To offer your services?"
"Yes."
"This is not a task for an assassin. I also require that his son be brought to me, alive."
Blade nodded. "I can do that."
"How did you hear of the reward?"
"In a brothel. Your soldiers visited it before they went to their deaths."
"And what were you doing there?"
He shrugged. "Drinking."
"Of course." Minna ate another fruit. "I have no need of your services. I have despatched another group of men, and expect to hear from them soon."
"They will fail."
She frowned, and the assassin looked away. "I dislike your tone, Blade. You are insolent."
"I am not accustomed to the company of queens, nor is my nature well suited to grovelling." He raised his eyes to meet hers, his gaze as bleak as a midwinter's day. "I did not resist the search. Your men took delight in hurting me. Had I chosen to resist, they would be dead now."
"You have a high opinion of your abilities."
"From experience."
Minna considered him, irked by her curiosity. She had never been so interested in a commoner before. This assassin, she sensed, harboured many dark secrets that she longed to know. At the same time, she was aware of his secretive nature, and the mystery that surrounded assassins and their strange, barbaric laws.
"Tell me about your life." The demand tripped unbidden off her tongue before she could bite it back.
"You mean how I came to be as I am?" His lips twisted in distaste. "I did not come here to entertain you with the tale of my misfortune. I have made my offer. What is your reply?"
Annoyed, Minna retorted, "I have no need of an assassin."
He rose to his feet, startling her. "Then I shall waste no more of your time." He swung away.