The Queen's Blade Prequel II - God Touched (11 page)

“
Good luck.”

Lilu sensed
his wish to quit the shoddy inn. She did not blame him, and found
that she did not want him to stay in the tawdry place. When the
front door closed behind him, she turned to the innkeeper, who
leered, revealing brown teeth.

“
Come on, lass, let's see how hard you'll work for your kitchen
scraps.” He gestured towards the curtained doorway that led to the
back rooms.

Lilu pulled a
face and drained the wine before following him.

Chapter Six

Lilu sat
behind the curtain and listened to the men in the taproom shout,
sing and banter. It was the end of the tenday, and she had been
busy earlier. Now her customers were sated and enjoying the wine
and fondling the other harlots. Their work had all but dried up
since Lilu's arrival, and they spat at and slapped her often. She
endured it for Blade's sake, but she hoped that she would learn
something soon. Two tendays had passed, and her birthing time drew
near.

A loud
conversation caught her attention, and she strained to hear it,
catching snatches.

“
...We beat him good, that's fer sure... Pissed on 'im
too...”

“
Jobal said 'e were dead... But he's still alive, would
you...”

Lilu leant
closer to the curtain, her breath catching with excitement. A man
guffawed, and she caught more snippets.

“
...Benaar's the one who cracked 'im on the...”

“
Damned dirty... Like rats, they are... Goin' to have some
fun...”

“
Go on with yer, Jobal...”

Lilu gasped
and jumped up as the curtain to the taproom was thrust aside and a
muscular, brown-haired man with a plaited beard entered the
corridor. She bolted into her room, and he pushed open the curtain
a moment later and swaggered in.

As he was
about to leave, she asked, “Are you one of the lads who killed the
Dance Master?”

He eyed her,
clearly surprised. “We din't kill 'im, but we tried.”

“
You must be brave. How many of you were there?”

“
A dirty dozen.” He grinned. “Why are ye talkin'? Yer looking
for another bedding? I'll send one of t'other lads back to keep yer
'appy if ye like.”

“
That's all right, I reckon I've had them all
tonight.”

“
Too right ye 'ave, but some of 'em's game for
seconds.”

“
I'm quite tired, actually.”

He chuckled,
shaking his head. “They'll wake yer up an' no mistake.”

Lilu's heart
sank as he left, dreading more work when she was already tired. He
was true to his word, however, and within minutes another man came
in, this one larger, with a shaven head and garish tattoos on his
cheeks.

When he was
finished, she asked, “Are you one of the boys who beat the Dance
Master too?”

He stared at
her. “Hah. Jobal said you was a talker. Aye, I am. We're all 'ere
tonight.”

“
You're so brave. I'd like to meet them all.”

“
You already 'ave.”

“
What are their names?”

He scratched
his head, looking puzzled. “Well now, there's Gerin, Jonnis,
Bertal, Jobal, Petran, Vorn, Teddel, Kento, Thedor, Mathis, Ludor
and me.”

“
And you are?”

“
Benaar. I'm the one who almost brained the
bastard.”

“
With a rock? How brave of you.”

He eyed her.
“You bein' funny?”

“
No, no, assassins are dangerous.”

He stepped
closer. “He were drunk and alone, an' I jumped 'im from behind. You
call that brave?”

“
Well, if you put it like that, I guess not.”

“
Oh, so now I'm a dirty coward.”

Lilu knew
where this was going from years of experience. Benaar was in a mood
to beat someone, and looking for an excuse to do it. She knew that
a beating now, when she was so close to term, might bring the baby
on early.

“
I meant no offence,” she said.

“
Well you offend me,” he said. “With yer dented face and
bloated belly, still rutting like you 'aven't already 'ad enough.
And then you want to talk. Things like you shouldn't
talk!”

“
You're right. I won't, ever again, I swear.”

“
An' now you're swearin', an' that's just wrong.” Benaar
stepped closer, his expression murderous. “I think yer need some
more dents in that ugly mug o' yorn.”

Lilu scrambled
away, wishing she could flee, but her pregnancy weighed her down.
Benaar grabbed her hair, and she screamed as his fist thudded into
her stomach, pain lancing through her. She tried to curl up to
protect her baby, but Benaar had other ideas. His next punch
cracked into her jaw, sending her sprawling. He kicked her in the
belly, and something tore. Warm liquid gushed over her thighs, and
she screamed again. The curtain opened and men crowded into the
pokey room, Devar amongst them.

The innkeeper
protested, but was thrust out, and the men who had tried to kill
Blade surrounded her. She tried to memorise their faces or
distinguishing marks, but she did not know who was who, even so.
Even if she survived to tell Blade, the information would be of
little use. Jobal grinned and kicked her, and she groaned as a
contraction tore through her.

Blade glanced
around when a street urchin came to his side, recognising the boy
from Tarbriar Way. The assassin sat in his usual seat at the back
of the Hangman's Noose, his new haunt. The boy panted, his eyes
wide.

“
Dance Master,” he gasped. “The whore...”

“
What of her?”

“
They're goin' to kill 'er, I reckon.”

Blade
straightened, frowning. “Who?”

“
I dunno. Ten men, mayhap twelve. They've got 'er cornered in
the Winsome Wench and they be kickin' 'er to death.”

The assassin
jumped up and loped to the door, thrusting it open with a bang. The
curious, puzzled stares of the two assassins who shared his haunt
followed him. In the street, his breath steamed in the cold air. He
sprinted up the road towards the Winsome Wench, which was half a
time-glass' walk away. He had chosen a new haunt that was not too
close to it, lest he arouse suspicion, but it was in Trobalon
territory and closer than his old one. His boots skidded on the icy
cobbles on the corners, and people jumped out of his way with
curses and yells.

As he neared
his destination, he wondered how he was going to take on a dozen
men, some of whom might be armed. Lilu might already be dead. He
had no idea how much abuse a pregnant woman could withstand. A
street away from the Winsome Wench, he paused to strap on his boot
blades. This might be the first time he used them in a real fight,
and put his training to the test. The metal soles made his footing
even more treacherous, and he almost skidded twice more before he
reached the inn's front door and wrenched it open. The whorehouse
was unusually quiet and almost empty. He picked up the tension
instantly, along with the scent of blood. Devar stood behind the
counter, polishing cups with a frown. The assassin banged on the
counter to get his attention, and he sauntered over.

“
Where's the whore, Lilu?” Blade demanded.

“
Aye, well now, she started trouble here tonight, indeed she
did.”

“
Where is she?”

“
Probably dead by now.”

“
Where?”

Devar leant on
the counter. “I threw her out. Silly bitch got the lads all riled
up, and she were a hard worker, too. Shame really.”

“
Where did you throw her?”

“
Out the back. She was making an awful racket. Most of my
customers cleared out, thanks to her. The lads too, and they were
having a good time before...”

Blade loped
through the curtain at the back of the taproom and into the short,
dingy corridor, at the end of which was another door. He wrenched
it open, and almost fell over the naked woman lying right outside.
His boot blades clicked as he stepped over her and crouched,
averting his eyes from her exposure and the blood that ran over her
thighs. He touched her shoulder, found it warm, and felt for a
pulse in her neck. Cursing, he glanced up and down the narrow lane.
On the other side of the street at one end of the alley was a
livery stable.

Stepping over
her again, he re-entered the brothel and went to her room to fetch
her tatty dress, returning to drape it over her. He did not want to
have to carry her far, and the added weight of the child would make
her a heavy burden, but the only other choice was to walk away. If
he took her back into the brothel and she screamed, the owner would
doubtless throw her out, or try to, which would lead to an unwanted
fracas, with possible broken heads and a visit from the Watch.

Blade slid his
arms under her, shuddering at the touch of her clammy skin. The
stench of blood made his stomach heave, and he turned his head away
as he cradled her against his chest and stood up. To his surprise,
she was not as heavy as he had expected, or perhaps he was stronger
than he had been last time. He walked to the stable, his boot
blades skidding on the icy cobbles. In the livery's warm redolence,
he found an empty stall and placed her on the straw.

The dress slid
off, and he swiftly covered her again, his cheeks growing hot as he
glanced around with guilty unease. The assassin's dislike for the
situation grew in leaps and bounds, and he longed to abandon her
and walk away. Not much disconcerted him more than a naked woman,
but an unconscious one in labour in public came top of his list, he
discovered. Kneeling beside her, he patted her cheek. Her belly
bulged with contractions, and he was fairly sure that she should be
awake for the birth. Blood oozed from her nose, her lips were puffy
and a swelling closed one eye.

“
Gods, Lilu,” he muttered, “I didn't think you could get any
uglier. Come on, wake up.”

His persistent
patting made her blink and moan, then, to his relief, her eyes
opened. She focussed on him, and an expression of desperate joy
twisted her battered face. Blade forced what he hoped was a
comforting smile, but it must have looked like a grimace of
distaste. Alarm blossomed in her eyes, and she grabbed him before
he could leap out of reach, clutched his neck and buried her face
in his chest. Her grip brought Blade's recoil up short, and his
immediate, instinctive yearning to be free of her smelly, sweaty
arms made his hands flash up to shove her away, come into contact
with sticky flesh and snap back like they were spring loaded.

Blade tried to
pull free. “Get off me, Lilu!”

Lilu clung to
him, sobbing, then cried out, drawing up her legs as a contraction
racked her. The assassin gripped her hands and wrenched them from
his neck, scrambling away. She clasped her stomach and groaned, her
face twisted with pain. Blade, on the brink of bolting, hesitated,
eyeing her. He could not abandon her now. Edging closer, he watched
her, staying out of reach.

“
That's it,” he murmured, not knowing if he was saying the
right thing. “You're doing fine.”

“
How would you know, you blithering idiot? How many babies have
you birthed?” she gritted.

“
You should have thought of that before...” He bit his tongue,
averting his eyes as the dress slid off again.

“
Blade...” She stretched out a hand. “Help me.”

“
How?”

“
Hold my hand, you idiot.” She groaned and gasped.

“
No. I'll fetch a midwife.”

“
Oh, good idea. And I suppose you know where she
lives?”

“
No. Where does she live?”

Lilu writhed,
clutching her belly. “It's too late! Please, just hold my
hand.”

“
What for?”

“
It will help with the pain.”

“
You're not going to grab me again?”

“
No.” She groaned. “Those bastards tried to beat me to death
too...” She gasped and bore down. “I found them. If you want their
names, hold my bloody hand!”

Blade sidled
closer and offered his hand, only to have it gripped in a
bone-crushing hold that made him wince. “Ah! Lilu, that hurts.”

“
Not half as much as this hurts, trust me,” she
groaned.

“
Yes, but I'm not the one in labour, nor did I do anything to
cause you pain, so inflicting it on me isn't fair.”

“
You're right, but there's no one else here, so you're
it.”

“
Ah!”

Lilu groaned
and gasped, writhing as the contractions grew faster and stronger.
Blade shifted, ill at ease and wincing whenever her grip tightened,
which was with every contraction. Her skin became dewed with sweat
and her cries grew so loud that he picked up her dress to stuff it
into her mouth, then thought better of it and tried to pull it over
her instead. She flailed at him.

“
What are you doing?”

“
Trying to... um... keep you warm.”

She opened her
eyes to study him. “No you're not. You're all embarrassed because
I'm naked. You're such a virgin.”

“
I am not!”

“
'Course you are.” She groaned, bearing down, and her hand
crushed his fingers.

He plucked at
it. “Aah! Could you... hold the other hand now? This one's
crushed.”