Assassin 3 - Royal Assassin (45 page)

Brother, are you mad? Have you eaten fishbones,
are you burned by fever?

Huh?

Your mind is clouded. Your thoughts are
bloodless and sickly. You move like prey.

I feel fine. .

Do you, sir? Then I do, too. She smiled up at
me. Chubby little face, dark eyes, curly hair peeking out from
under her cap. Verity would like this one. She patted my leg
companionably. A bit higher than she had touched me
before.

FitzChivalry!

I looked up slowly. Patience was standing over
me, with Lacey at her elbow. I smiled to see her there. She so
seldom came out of her rooms to socialize. Especially in winter.
Winter was a hard time for her. I shall be so glad when summer
returns, and we can walk in the gardens together, I told
her.

She looked at me silently for a moment. I have
something heavy I wish carried up to my rooms. Will you bring it
for me?

Certainly. I stood carefully. I have to go, I
told the little servant girl. My mother needs me. I liked your
song.

Good-bye, sir! she chirped at me, and Lacey
glared at her. Patience's cheeks were very rosy. I followed her
through the ebb and press of folk. We came to the foot of the
stairs.

I forget how to do these, I told her. And where
is the heavy thing you wish carried?

That was an excuse to get you away from there
before you completely disgraced yourself! she hissed at me. What is
the matter with you? How could you behave so badly? Are you
drunk?

I thought about it. Nighteyes said I was
poisoned by fishbones. But I feel fine.

Lacey and Patience looked at me very carefully.
Then they each took an arm and guided me upstairs. Patience made
tea. I talked to Lacey. I told her how much I loved Molly and that
I was going to marry her as soon as the King said I could. She
patted my hand and felt my forehead and asked what I'd eaten today
and where. I couldn't remember. Patience gave me tea. Very soon I
puked. Lacey gave me cold water. Patience gave me more tea. I puked
again. I said I didn't want any more tea. Patience and Lacey
argued. Lacey said she thought I'd be all right after I slept. She
took me back to my room.

I woke up with no clear idea of what had been
dream and what had been real, if anything. My entire recall of the
evening's events had the same distance as events that had happened
years ago. This was compounded by the open staircase with its
beckoning yellow light and the draft from it chilling my room. I
scrabbled out of bed, swayed for a moment as a wave of dizziness
overtook me, and then slowly mounted the stairs, one hand always
touching the cold stone wall to reassure myself that it was real.
About midway up the steps, Chade came down to meet me. Here, take
my arm, he commanded, and I did.

He put his free arm around me and we went up the
stairs together. I've missed you, I told him. With my next breath,
I told him, King Shrewd is in danger.

I know. King Shrewd is always in
danger.

We gained the top of the stairwell. There was a
fire in his hearth, and a meal set out next to it on a tray. He
guided me toward both.

I think I might have been poisoned today. A
sudden shivering ran up me and I shuddered all over. When it
passed, I felt more alert. I seem to be waking up in stages. I keep
thinking I'm awake, and then suddenly everything is
clearer.

Chade nodded gravely. I suspect it was the ash
residue. You weren't thinking when you tidied King Shrewd's room
for him. Many times the burned residue of an herb concentrates the
potency of the herb. You got it all over your hands and then sat
there eating pastries. There was little I could do. I thought you
would sleep it off. What possessed you to go downstairs?

I don't know. Then: How do you always know so
much? I asked peevishly as he pushed me down into his old chair. He
took my usual perch on the hearthstones. Even in my fuddled state,
I noticed how fluidly he moved, as if he had somewhere abandoned
the cramps and aches of an old man's body. There was windburned
color to his face and arms as well, the tan fading the pocks'
stigma. I had once noticed his resemblance to Shrewd. Now I saw
Verity in his face as well.

I have my little ways of finding things out. He
grinned at me wolfishly. How much do you remember of Winterfest
tonight?

I winced as I considered it. Enough to know that
tomorrow is going to be a difficult day. The little servant girl
suddenly popped up in my memory. Leaning on my shoulder, her hand
on my thigh. Molly. I had to get to Molly tonight and somehow
explain things to her. If she came to my room tonight, and I wasn't
there to answer her knock ... I started up in my chair, but then
another shiver ran up over me. It felt almost like a skin being
peeled off me.

Here. Eat something. Puking your guts out wasn't
the best thing for you, but I'm sure Patience meant well. And under
other circumstances, it could have been a lifesaver. No, you idiot,
wash your hands first. Haven't you heard a word I've
said?

I noticed then the vinegar water set out beside
the food. I washed my hands carefully to remove every trace of
whatever had clung to them, and then my face, amazed at how much
more alert I suddenly felt. It's been like an extended dream, all
day ... is this what Shrewd has been feeling?

I've no idea. Perhaps not all those burning
herbs down there are what I think they are. It was one of the
things I wanted to discuss with you tonight. How has Shrewd been?
Has this come on him suddenly? How long has Wallace been calling
himself a healer?

I don't know. I hung my head in shame. I forced
myself to report to Chade just how lax I had been in his absence.
And how stupid. When I was finished, he did not disagree with
me.

Well, he said heavily. We can't undo, we can
only salvage. Too much is happening here to sort at one sitting. He
looked at me consideringly. Much of what you tell me does not
surprise me. Forged ones converging still on Buckkeep, the King's
illness lingering. But King Shrewd's health has declined much more
swiftly than I can account for, and the squalor in his rooms makes
no sense to me. Unless ... He did not finish the thought. Perhaps
they believe that Lady Thyme was his only defender. Perhaps they
think we no longer care; perhaps they believe him an isolated old
man, an obstacle to be removed. Your carelessness has drawn them
out, at least. And having drawn them out, perhaps we can cut them
off. He sighed. I thought I could use Wallace as a tool, lead him
subtly through the advice of others. He has little knowledge of
herbs of his own; the man is a dabbler. But the tool I left
carelessly lying about, perhaps another employs now. We shall have
to see. Still. There are ways to stop this.

I bit my tongue before I could utter Regal's
name. How? I asked instead.

Chade smiled. How were you rendered ineffective
as an assassin in the Mountain Kingdom?

I winced at the memory. Regal revealed my
purpose to Kettricken.

Exactly. We shall shine a bit of daylight on
what goes on in the King's chambers. Eat while I talk.

And so I did, listening to him as he outlined my
assignments for the next day, but also noting what he chose to feed
me. The flavor of garlic predominated, and I knew his confidence in
its purifying abilities. I wondered just what I had ingested, and
also how much it colored my recollection of my conversation with
the Fool. I flinched as I recalled my brusque dismissal of him. He
would be another I would have to seek out tomorrow. Chade noticed
my preoccupation. Sometimes, he observed obliquely, you have to
trust people to understand you are not perfect.

I nodded, then suddenly yawned immensely. Beg
pardon, I muttered. My eyelids were suddenly so heavy I could
barely keep my head up. You were saying?

No, no. Go to bed. Rest. It's the real
healer.

But I haven't even asked you where you've been.
Or what you've been doing. You move and act as if you'd lost ten
years of age.

Chade puckered his mouth. `Is that a compliment?
Never mind. Such questions would be useless anyway, so you may save
them for another time, and be frustrated then when I refuse to
answer them. As to my condition ... well, the more one forces one's
body to do, the more it can do. It was not an easy journey. Yet I
believe it was worth the hardship. He held up a halting hand as I
opened my mouth. And that is all I am going to say. To bed, now,
Fitz. To bed.

I yawned again as I rose, and stretched until my
joints popped. You've grown again, Chade complained admiringly. At
this rate, you'll even top your father's height.

I've missed you, I mumbled as I headed toward
the stair.

And I you. But we shall have tomorrow night for
catching up. For now, bed for you.

I went down his stairs with the sincere
intention of following his suggestion. As it always did, the
staircase sealed itself moments after I exited it, by a mechanism I
had never been able to discover. I threw three more logs on my
dying fire and then crossed to my bed. I sat down on it to pull my
shirt off. I was exhausted. But not so tired that I could not catch
a faint trace of Molly's scent on my own skin as I pulled my shirt
off. I sat a moment longer, holding my shirt in my hands. Then I
put it back on and rose. I went to my door and slipped out into the
hallway.

It was late, by any other night's standard. Yet
this was the first night of Winterfest. There were many below who
would not think of their beds until dawn was on the horizon. Others
who would not find their own beds at all this night. I smiled
suddenly as I realized I intended to be part of the latter
group.

There were others in the halls that night and on
the staircases. Most were too inebriated, or too engrossed in
themselves to notice me. As for the others, I resolved to let
Winterfest be my excuse for any questions asked of me the next day.
Still, I was discreet enough to be sure the corridor was clear
before I tapped on her door. I heard no reply. But as I lifted my
hand to tap again, the door swung silently open into
darkness.

It terrified me. In an instant I was sure harm
had come to her, that someone had been here and hurt her and left
her there in the darkness. I sprang into the room, crying out her
name. The door swung shut behind me and Hush! she
commanded.

I turned to find her, but it took a moment for
my eyes to adjust to the darkness. The light from the hearth fire
was the only illumination in the room, and it was to my back. When
my eyes did penetrate the darkness, I felt as if I could not
breathe.

Were you expecting me? I asked at
last.

In a little cat voice, she replied, Only for
hours.

I thought you would be at the merrymaking in the
Great Hall. Slowly it dawned on me that I had not seen her
there.

I knew I would not be missed there. Except by
one. And I thought perhaps that one might come seeking me
here.

I stood motionless and looked at her. She wore a
wreath of holly atop the tumble of her hair. That was all. And she
stood against the door, wanting me to look at her. How can I
explain the line that had been crossed? Before we had ventured
into, this together, exploring and inquisitive. But this was
different. This was a woman's frank invitation. Can there be
anything so compelling as the knowledge that a woman desires you?
It overwhelmed me and blessed me and somehow redeemed me from every
stupid thing I had ever done.

Winterfest.

The heart of night's secret.

Yes.

She shook me awake before dawn, and put me out
of her rooms. The farewell kiss that she gave me before shooing me
out the door was such that I stood in the hall trying to persuade
myself that dawn was not all that close. After a few moments I
recalled that discretion was called for, and wiped the foolish
smile off my face. I straightened my rumpled shirt and headed for
the stairs.

Once inside my room, an almost dizzying
weariness overtook me. How long had it been since I had had a full
night's sleep? I sat down on my bed and dragged my shirt off. I
dropped it to the floor. I fell back onto the bed and closed my
eyes.

A soft tap at my door jerked me upright. I
crossed the room swiftly, smiling to myself. I was still smiling as
I swung the door wide.

Good, you're up! And almost dressed. I was
afraid from the way you looked last night that I'd be dragging you
out of your bed by the scruff of your neck.

It was Burrich, freshly washed and brushed. The
lines across his forehead were the only visible signs of the last
night's revelry. From my years of sharing quarters with him, I knew
that no matter how fierce a hangover he might have, he would still
rise to face his duties. I sighed. No good asking quarter, for none
would be given. Instead I went to my clothes chest and found a
clean shirt. I put it on as I followed him to Verity's
tower.

There is an odd threshold, physical as well as
mental. There have been but a few times in my life that I have been
pushed over it, but each time an extraordinary thing happened. That
morning was one of those times. After an hour or so had passed, I
stood in Verity's tower room, shirtless and sweating. The tower
windows were open to the winter wind, but I felt no chill. The
padded ax Burrich had given me was but a little lighter than the
world itself, and the weight of Verity's presence in my mind felt
as if it were forcing my brain out my eyes. I could no longer keep
my ax up to guard myself. Burrich came at me again, and I made no
more than a token defense. He batted it aside with ease, then came
in swiftly, one, two blows, not hard, but not softly either. And
you're dead, he told me, and stood back. He let the head of his ax
sag to the floor and stood leaning on it and breathing. I let my
own ax thud headfirst to the floor. Useless.