Assassin 3 - Royal Assassin (11 page)

My gratitude outweighed my puzzlement. I managed
to get out of bed and take advantage of everything. Afterward I
felt much better. My dizziness was replaced by a feeling of
unnatural lightness, but that quickly succumbed to the bread and
cheese. The tea had a hint of elfbark in it; I instantly suspected
Chade and wondered if he was the one who'd tried to wake me. But
no, Chade only summoned me at night.

I was dragging the clean nightshirt over my head
when the door opened quietly. The Fool came slipping into my room.
He was in his winter motley of black and white, and his colorless
skin seemed even paler because of it. His garments were made of
some silky fabric, and cut so loosely that he looked like a stick
swathed in it. He'd gotten taller, and even thinner, if that were
possible. As always, his white eyes were a shock, even in his
bloodless face. He smiled at me, and then waggled a pale pink
tongue derisively.

You, I surmised, and gestured 'round. Thank
you.

No, he denied. His pale hair floated out from
beneath his cap in a halo as he shook his head. But I assisted.
Thank you for bathing. It makes my task of checking on you less
onerous. I'm glad you're awake. You snore abominably.

I let his comment pass. You've grown, I
observed.

Yes. So have you. And you've been sick. And you
slept quite a long time. And now you are awake and bathed and fed.
You still look terrible. But you no longer smell. It's late
afternoon now. Are there any other obvious facts you'd like to
review?

I dreamed about you. While I was
gone.

He gave me a dubious look. Did you? How
touching. I can't say I dreamed of you.

I've missed you, I said, and enjoyed the brief
flash of surprise on the Fool's face.

How droll. Does that explain why you've been
playing the fool yourself so much?

I suppose. Sit down. Tell me what's been
happening while I was gone.

I can't. King Shrewd is expecting me. Rather, he
isn't expecting me, and that is precisely why I must go to him now.
When you feel better, you should go and see him. Especially if he
isn't expecting you. He turned abruptly to go. He whisked himself
out the door, then leaned back in abruptly. He lifted the silver
bells at the end of one ridiculously long sleeve and jingled them
at me. Farewell, Fitz. Do try to do a bit better at not letting
people kill you. The door closed silently behind him.

I was left alone. I poured myself another cup of
tea and sipped at it. My door opened again. I looked up, expecting
the Fool. Lacey peeked in and announced, Oh, he's awake, and then,
more severely, demanded, Why didn't you say how tired you were?
It's fair scared me to death, you sleeping a whole day 'round like
that. She did not wait to be invited, but bustled into the room,
clean linens and blankets in her arms and Lady Patience on her
heels.

Oh, he is awake! she exclaimed to Lacey, as if
she had doubted it. They ignored my humiliation at confronting them
in my nightshirt. Lady Patience seated herself on my bed while
Lacey fussed about the room, putting it to rights. There was not
much to do in my bare chamber, but she stacked my dirty dishes,
poked at my fire, tsk-tsked over my dirty bathwater and scattered
garments. I stood at bay by the hearth while she stripped my bed,
made it up fresh, gathered my dirty clothes over her arm with a
disdainful sniff, glanced about, and then sailed out the door with
her plunder.

I was going to tidy that up, I muttered,
embarrassed, but Lady Patience didn't appear to notice. She
gestured imperiously at the bed. Reluctantly I got into it. I don't
believe I have ever felt more at a disadvantage. She emphasized it
by leaning over and tucking the covers around me.

About Molly, she announced abruptly. Your
behavior that night was reprehensible. You used your weakness to
lure her to your room. And upset her no end with your accusations.
Fitz, I will not allow it. If you were not so sick, I would be
furious with you. As it is, I am gravely disappointed. I cannot
think what to say about how you deceived that poor girl, and led
her on. So I will simply say that it will happen no more. You shall
behave honorably to her, in every way.

A simple misunderstanding between Molly and me
had suddenly become a serious matter. There's been a mistake here,
I said, trying to sound competent and calm. Molly and I need to
straighten it out. By talking together, privately. I assure you,
for your peace of mind, that it is not at all what you seem to
think it is.

Bear in mind who you are. The son of a Prince
does not-

Fitz, I reminded her firmly. I am FitzChivalry.
Chivalry's bastard. Patience looked stricken. I felt again how much
I had changed since I had left Buckkeep. I was not a boy anymore
for her to supervise and correct. She had to see me as I was.
Still, I tried to soften my tone as I pointed out, Not the proper
son of Prince Chivalry, my lady. Only your husband's
bastard.

She sat on the foot of my bed and looked at me.
Her hazel eyes met mine squarely and held. I saw past her giddiness
and distractibility, into a soul capable of more pain and vaster
regret than I had ever suspected. How do you think I could ever
forget that? she asked quietly.

My voice died in my throat as I sought for an
answer. I was rescued by Lacey's return. She had recruited two
serving men and a couple of small boys. The dirty water from my
bath and my dishes was whisked away by them while Lacey set out a
tray of small pastries and two more cups, and measured out fresh
brewing herbs for another pot of tea. Patience and I were silent
until the serving folk left the room. Lacey made the tea, poured
cups for all, and then settled herself with her everpresent
tatting.

It is precisely because of who you are that this
is more than a misunderstanding. Patience launched back into the
topic, as if I had never dared interrupt. If you were just
Fedwren's apprentice, or a stable hand, then you would be free to
court and marry however you wished. But you are not, FitzChivalry
Farseer. You are of the royal blood. Even a bastard -she stumbled
slightly on the word--of that line must observe certain customs.
And practice certain discretions. Consider your position in the
royal household. You must have the King's permission to marry.
Surely you are aware of that. Courtesy to King Shrewd demanded that
you inform him of your intention to court so that he might consider
the case's merits, and tell you if it pleased him or not. He would
consider it. Is it a good time for you to wed? Does it benefit the
throne? Is the match an acceptable one, or is it likely to cause
scandal? Will your courting interfere with your duties? Are the
lady's bloodlines acceptable? Does the King wish you to have
offspring?

With each question she posed, I felt the shock
go deeper. I lay back on my pillows and stared at the bed hangings.
I had never really set out to court Molly. From a childhood
friendship, we had drifted to a deeper companionship. I had known
how my heart wished it to go, but my head had never stopped to
consider it. She read my face plainly.

Remember, too, FitzChivalry, that you have
already sworn an oath to another. Your life belongs to your king
already. What would you offer Molly if you wed her? His leavings?
The bits of time that he did not demand? A man whose duty is sworn
to a King has little time for anyone else in his life. Tears stood
suddenly in her eyes. Some women are willing to take what such a
man can honestly offer, and content themselves with it. For others,
it is not enough. Could never be enough. You must ... She
hesitated, and it seemed as if the words were wrung from her. You
must consider that. One horse cannot bear two saddles. However much
he may wish to ... Her voice dwindled off on the last words. She
closed her eyes as if something hurt her. Then she took a breath
and went on briskly, as if she had never paused, Another
consideration, FitzChivalry. Molly is, or was, a woman of
prospects.

She has a trade, and knows it well. I expect she
will be able to reestablish herself, after a time of hiring out.
But what about you? What do you bring to her? You write a fair
hand, but you cannot claim a full scriber's skills. You are a good
stable hand, yes, but that is not how you earn your bread. You are
a Prince's bastard. You live in the Keep, you are fed, you are
clothed. But you have no fixed allowance. This could be a
comfortable chamber, for one person. But did you expect to bring
Molly here to live with you? Or did you seriously believe the King
would grant you permission to leave Buckkeep? And if he did, then
what? Will you live with your wife and eat the bread she earns with
the work of her hands, and do naught? Or would you be content to
learn her trade, and be a help to her?

She finally paused. She did not expect me to
answer any of her questions. I did not try. She took a breath and
resumed. You have behaved as a thoughtless boy. I know you meant no
harm, and we must see that no harm comes of it. To anyone. But most
especially to Molly. You have grown up amidst the gossip and
intrigues of the royal court. She has not. Will you let it be said
she is your concubine, or worse, a Keep whore? For long years now,
Buckkeep has been a man's court. Queen Desire was ... the Queen,
but she did not hold court as Queen Constance did. We have a Queen
at Buckkeep again. Already, things are different here, as you will
discover. If you truly hope to make Molly your wife, she must be
brought into this court a step at a time. Or she will find herself
an outcast among politely nodding people. I am speaking plainly to
you, FitzChivalry. Not to be cruel to you. But far better I am
cruel to you now than that Molly live a lifetime of casual cruelty.
She spoke so calmly, her eyes never leaving my face.

She waited until I asked hopelessly, What must I
do?

For a moment she looked down at her hands. Then
she met my eyes again. For now, nothing. I mean exactly that. I
have made Molly one of my serving women. I am teaching her, as best
I can, the ways of the court. She is proving an apt student, as
well as a most pleasant teacher for me in the matters of herbs and
scent making. I am having Fedwren teach her letters, something she
is most eager to learn. But for now, that is all that must be
happening. She must be accepted by the women of the court as one of
my ladies
–
not
the
Bastard's woman. After a time you may begin to call upon her. But
for now it would be unseemly for you to see her alone, or even seek
to see her at all.

But I need to speak to her alone. Just once,
just briefly, then I promise I'll abide by your rules. She thinks I
deliberately deceived her, Patience. She thinks I was drunk last
night. I have to explain ....

But Patience was shaking her head before the
first sentence was out of my mouth, and continued until I faltered
to a halt. We have already had a sprinkling of rumors, because she
came here seeking you. Or so the gossip was. I have crushed it,
assuring everyone that Molly came to me because she was facing
difficulties and her mother had been a tiring woman to Lady Heather
during the time of Queen Constance's court. Which is true, and
hence she does have the right to seek me out, for was not Lady
Heather a friend to me when first I came to Buckkeep?

Did you know Molly's mother? I asked
curiously.

Not really. She had left, to marry a chandler,
before I came to Buckkeep. But I did know Lady Heather, and she was
kind to me. She dismissed my question.

But couldn't I come to your chambers, and speak
to her there, privately, and-

I will not have a scandal! she declared firmly.
I will not tempt a scandal. Fitz, you have enemies at court. I will
not let Molly become their victim for their aims of hurting you.
There. Have I spoken plainly enough at last?

She had spoken plainly, and of things I had
believed her ignorant. How much did she know of my enemies? Did she
think it merely social? Though that would be enough at court. I
thought of Regal, and his sly witticisms, and how he could turn and
speak softly to his hangers-on at a feast and all would smirk to
one another and add soft-voiced comments to the Prince's criticism.
I thought how I would have to kill him.

By the set of your jaw, I see you understand.
Patience arose, setting her teacup on the table. Lacey. I believe
we should leave FitzChivalry to rest now.

Please, at least tell her not to be angry with
me, I begged. Tell her I wasn't drunk last night. Tell her I never
meant to deceive her, or to cause her any harm.

I will carry no such message! Nor shall you,
Lacey! Don't think I didn't see that wink. Both of you, I insist
that you will be decorous. Remember this, FitzChivalry. You do not
know Molly. Mistress Chandler. She does not know you. It is how it
must be. Now come, Lacey. FitzChivalry, I expect you to get some
rest tonight.

They left me. Although I tried to catch Lacey's
eyes and win her alliance, she refused to glance at me. The door
closed behind them and I leaned back on my pillows. I tried not to
let my mind rattle against the restrictions Patience had set upon
me. Annoying as it was, she was right. I could only hope that Molly
would see my behavior as thoughtless rather than deceitful or
conniving.

I arose from my bed and went to poke at the
fire. Then I sat on the hearth and looked about my chamber. After
my months in the Mountain Kingdom, it seemed a bleak place indeed.
The closest my chamber came to decoration was a rather dusty
tapestry of King Wisdom befriending the Elderlings. It had come
with the chamber, as had the cedar chest at the foot of my bed. I
stared up at the tapestry critically. It was old and moth-eaten; I
could see why it had been banished to here. When I had been
younger, it had given me nightmares. Woven in an old style, King
Wisdom appeared strangely elongated, while the Elderlings bore no
resemblance to any creatures I had ever seen. There was a
suggestion of wings on their bulging shoulders. Or perhaps that was
meant to be a halo of light surrounding them. I leaned back on the
hearth to consider them.