assassin, perhaps enough to balance the scales. He wondered if a Jashimari assassin would ever be foolish enough to challenge the Queen's Blade to an armed Dance of Death.
Raising his head, he glared at his opponent. "You've made a big mistake, Cotti. Challenging me to a Dance of Death is signing your own death warrant. I was the Master of the Dance my entire career, and even when I retired, I could have kept the title. I'm the only assassin to have ever held two belts, since an upstart Dance Master from another city challenged me. At the time I was almost crippled, and I still defeated him."
Blade's blood warmed as he spoke, and his heart swelled with the only pride that he had ever known, that of his prowess. Denied the simple pleasures of a normal man, he had excelled in the one thing he was good at, and that pride now bolstered his confidence, just as his words were designed to diminish Ice's.
The Cotti assassin smirked, his eyes darting to the watching assassins. "I'm not afraid of you."
"You're a fool if you think you can defeat the Queen's Blade in a Dance of Death. No one has been stupid enough to try that before." Blade grinned. "I'm going to cut you to pieces."
Ice glanced around again, took two of Blade's daggers from an elder and walked over to hand them to the Jashimari assassin.
"You know the rules, I presume."
"Better than you, Cotti pup."
Blade took the weapons and turned away as Ice collected his own from his elders. The rules were simple. You only had two daggers, and if you threw one and missed, you only had one. A thrown dagger could not be retrieved, so it was better to keep them in hand. The Dance was varied for the different types of assassins, who used their weapon of choice, except for poisoners, who fought empty-handed. Seldom had a duel been fought between two assassins who used different weapons, and then they both had to use daggers, or nothing. That was in the days before the Dance was outlawed. Ice handed his familiar to one of the elders and turned to face Blade again.
"Where's your familiar?"
"Killed by Shandor's soldiers, a crime for which he paid with his life."
"Ah." Ice studied his daggers, fingering their edges. His apparent cheerfulness was a ruse, Blade knew. Beneath his smiling façade beat a heart of pure malevolence, one that enjoyed dealing out death and pain to hapless victims, and he hid his true nature behind a false grin. He embodied everything Blade hated about the Cotti; their arrogance, cruelty and indifference to the suffering of others.
Blade's hands tightened on his daggers, and he tensed, his muscles thrumming with energy seeking explosive outlet. An electrical jolt went through him as Ice tapped his feet in the distinctive rhythm of the Dance of Death, beginning the duel. The rigid structure of the Dance did not apply to an armed duel, but many of the moves would be repeated in it, simply because they were so deadly.
Blade moved towards his opponent, the danger heightening his senses. Ice circled, and, from the wary glint in his eyes, Blade knew his words had dented the Cotti's confidence, as he had intended. He stopped and waited for Ice to attack, since this put the Cotti at a disadvantage. Ice had no choice, however, if he wanted to kill Blade. Ice's feet clicked as he closed the gap in a whirling leap, his blade-tipped boots lashing out towards Blade's chest.
Blade swayed back, allowing the razor edges to skim past his vest, then slashed with a dagger, opening a shallow cut in Ice's arm as the Cotti spun past. Ice landed with a clatter of metal-shod boots, and continued his spin, dropping to slash at Blade's legs, forcing him to spring into the air. Blade kicked as he leapt, his boot grazing Ice's cheek and cutting his ear when he jerked aside. As Blade landed, Ice leapt up and stabbed at him. Blade spun away and kicked his opponent, stabbing Ice in the shin. The Cotti grunted and staggered, then leapt high, one leg lashing out. The boot-blade skimmed
Raising his head, he glared at his opponent. "You've made a big mistake, Cotti. Challenging me to a Dance of Death is signing your own death warrant. I was the Master of the Dance my entire career, and even when I retired, I could have kept the title. I'm the only assassin to have ever held two belts, since an upstart Dance Master from another city challenged me. At the time I was almost crippled, and I still defeated him."
Blade's blood warmed as he spoke, and his heart swelled with the only pride that he had ever known, that of his prowess. Denied the simple pleasures of a normal man, he had excelled in the one thing he was good at, and that pride now bolstered his confidence, just as his words were designed to diminish Ice's.
The Cotti assassin smirked, his eyes darting to the watching assassins. "I'm not afraid of you."
"You're a fool if you think you can defeat the Queen's Blade in a Dance of Death. No one has been stupid enough to try that before." Blade grinned. "I'm going to cut you to pieces."
Ice glanced around again, took two of Blade's daggers from an elder and walked over to hand them to the Jashimari assassin.
"You know the rules, I presume."
"Better than you, Cotti pup."
Blade took the weapons and turned away as Ice collected his own from his elders. The rules were simple. You only had two daggers, and if you threw one and missed, you only had one. A thrown dagger could not be retrieved, so it was better to keep them in hand. The Dance was varied for the different types of assassins, who used their weapon of choice, except for poisoners, who fought empty-handed. Seldom had a duel been fought between two assassins who used different weapons, and then they both had to use daggers, or nothing. That was in the days before the Dance was outlawed. Ice handed his familiar to one of the elders and turned to face Blade again.
"Where's your familiar?"
"Killed by Shandor's soldiers, a crime for which he paid with his life."
"Ah." Ice studied his daggers, fingering their edges. His apparent cheerfulness was a ruse, Blade knew. Beneath his smiling façade beat a heart of pure malevolence, one that enjoyed dealing out death and pain to hapless victims, and he hid his true nature behind a false grin. He embodied everything Blade hated about the Cotti; their arrogance, cruelty and indifference to the suffering of others.
Blade's hands tightened on his daggers, and he tensed, his muscles thrumming with energy seeking explosive outlet. An electrical jolt went through him as Ice tapped his feet in the distinctive rhythm of the Dance of Death, beginning the duel. The rigid structure of the Dance did not apply to an armed duel, but many of the moves would be repeated in it, simply because they were so deadly.
Blade moved towards his opponent, the danger heightening his senses. Ice circled, and, from the wary glint in his eyes, Blade knew his words had dented the Cotti's confidence, as he had intended. He stopped and waited for Ice to attack, since this put the Cotti at a disadvantage. Ice had no choice, however, if he wanted to kill Blade. Ice's feet clicked as he closed the gap in a whirling leap, his blade-tipped boots lashing out towards Blade's chest.
Blade swayed back, allowing the razor edges to skim past his vest, then slashed with a dagger, opening a shallow cut in Ice's arm as the Cotti spun past. Ice landed with a clatter of metal-shod boots, and continued his spin, dropping to slash at Blade's legs, forcing him to spring into the air. Blade kicked as he leapt, his boot grazing Ice's cheek and cutting his ear when he jerked aside. As Blade landed, Ice leapt up and stabbed at him. Blade spun away and kicked his opponent, stabbing Ice in the shin. The Cotti grunted and staggered, then leapt high, one leg lashing out. The boot-blade skimmed
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