Assassin 3 - Royal Assassin (55 page)

BOOK: Assassin 3 - Royal Assassin
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I will try, I replied absently. For how many
years would Molly have to worry? How much bitterness must she
swallow?

What are you looking at? Patience
demanded.

Nothing. Why?

Because I've asked you twice to get down so we
can move the chair. We've all these other packets to hang, you
know.

Beg pardon. I didn't get much sleep last night;
it's left me dull-witted today.

I agree. You should start sleeping more at
night. These words were uttered a bit heavily. Now come down and
move the chair so we can hang these mints.

I didn't eat much at dinner. Regal was alone on
the high dais, looking sullen. His usual circle of fawners
clustered at a table just below him. I did not understand why he
chose to dine separately. Certainly, he had the rank to, but why
choose this isolation? He summoned one of the more flattering of
the minstrels he had recently imported to Buckkeep. Most of them
were from Farrow. All of them affected the nasal intonations of
that region and favored the long, chanting styles of epics. This
one sang a long telling of some adventure of Regal's maternal
grandfather. I listened as little as I was able; it seemed to have
to do with riding a horse to death in order to be the one to shoot
a great stag that had eluded a generation of hunters. It praised
endlessly the greathearted horse who had gone to his death at his
master's bidding. It said nothing of the master's stupidity in
wasting such an animal to gain some tough meat and a rack of
antlers.

You look half-sick, Burrich observed as he
paused beside me. I rose to leave table and walked through the hall
with him.

Too much on my mind. Too many directions to
think in all at once. I sometimes feel that if I had time to focus
my mind on just one problem, I could solve it. And then go on to
solve the others.

Every man believes that. It isn't so. Slay the
ones you can as they come to hand, and after a while you get used
to the ones you can do nothing about.

Such as?

He shrugged and gestured downward. Such as
having a game leg. Or being a bastard. We all get used to things we
once swore we could never live with. But what's eating your liver
this time?

Nothing I can tell you about just yet. Not here,
anyway.

Oh. More of those, huh. He shook his head. I
don't envy you, Fitz. Sometimes all a man needs is to growl about
his problems to another man. They've denied you even that. But take
heart. I have faith you can handle them even if you think you
can't.

He clapped me on the shoulders, and then left in
a blast of cold air from the outer doors. Verity was right. The
winter storms were rising, if tonight's wind was any indicator. I
was halfway up the stairs before I reflected that Burrich now spoke
to me straight across. He finally believed I was a man grown. Well,
maybe I would do better if I believed that about myself. I squared
my shoulders and went up to my room.

I put more effort into dressing than I had in a
long time. As I did I thought of Verity hastily changing his shirt
for Kettricken. How had he ever managed to be so blind to her? And
I to Molly? What other things did Molly do for our sake that I had
never realized? My misery returned, stronger than ever. Tonight.
Tonight after Shrewd was done with me. I could not let her continue
her sacrifices. For now, I could do nothing save put it out of my
mind. I pulled my hair back into the warrior's tail that I felt
fully earned now, and tugged the front of my blue jerkin straight.
It was a bit snug across the shoulders, but so was everything I
owned lately. I left my room.

In the hallway outside King Shrewd's apartments,
I encountered Verity with Kettricken on his arm. Never had I seen
them as they presented themselves now. Here, suddenly, was the
King-in-Waiting and his queen. Verity was dressed in a long formal
robe of deep forest green. An embroidered band of stylized bucks
graced the sleeves and hem. He wore on his brow the silver circlet
with the blue gem that was the mark of the King-in-Waiting. I had
not seen him wear it in some time: Kettricken was dressed in the
purple and white that she so often chose. Her gown of purple was
very simple, the sleeves cut short and wide to reveal narrower and
longer sleeves of white beneath them. She wore the jewelry, that
Verity had gifted her with, and her long blond hair had been
intricately dressed with a net of silver chain junctured with
amethysts. I halted at the sight of them. Their faces were grave.
They could be going nowhere except to see King Shrewd.

I presented myself formally, and carefully let
Verity know that King Shrewd had summoned me.

No, he told me gently. I summoned you to present
yourself to King Shrewd. Along with Kettricken and me. I wished you
witness for this.

Relief flooded me. This was not about Celerity,
then. Witness for what, my prince? I managed to ask.

He looked at me as if I were daft. I ask the
King's permission to leave on a quest. To seek out the Elderlings
and bring back the aid we so desperately need.

Oh. I should have noticed the quiet page, all in
black, bearing an armful of scrolls and tablets. The boy's face was
white and stiff. I would wager he had never before done anything
more formal for Verity than wax his boots. Rosemary, freshly washed
and clothed in Kettricken's colors, reminded me of a scrubbed
purple-and-white turnip. I smiled at the chubby child, but she
returned my look gravely.

Without preamble, Verity rapped once on King
Shrewd's door. A moment! called a voice. Wallace's. He opened the
door a crack, glared out, then realized that this was Verity he was
keeping out. He had a moment of too obvious hesitation before he
swung the door wide.

Sir, he quavered. I did not expect you. That is,
I was not informed that the King was to have-

You are not needed for this. You may go, now.
Usually Verity did not dismiss even a page so coldly.

But ... the King may have need of me .... The
man's eyes shifted wildly about. He feared something.

Verity's eyes narrowed. If he does, I will see
you are summoned. In fact, you may wait. Just outside the door. Be
there if I call for you.

After an instant's pause Wallace stepped outside
the door and stood beside it. We entered the King's chambers.
Verity himself set hand to the door and shut it. I do not like that
man, he observed, more than loudly enough to be heard through the
door. He is officiously subservient, and greasily obsequious. A
very poor combination.

The King was not in his sitting room. As Verity
crossed it the Fool suddenly appeared in Shrewd's bedroom doorway.
He goggled at us, grinned in a sudden lift of joy, and then made a
floor-sweeping bow to all of us. Sire! Awaken! It is as I have
foretold, the minstrels have arrived!

Fool, Verity growled, but it was good-natured.
He brushed past him, fending off the Fool's mocking attempts to
kiss the hem of his robe. Kettricken lifted a hand to smother a
smile and followed Verity. The Fool all but succeeded in tripping
me with a suddenly stretched-forth foot. I avoided it, but made a
clumsy entrance, nearly colliding with Kettricken. The Fool grinned
and simpered at me, then capered over to Shrewd's bedside. He
lifted the old man's hand, patted it with true gentleness. Your
Majesty? Your Majesty? You have callers.

In the bed, Shrewd stirred and took a sudden
deep breath. What's this? Who's here? Verity? Pull back the
curtains, Fool, I can scarcely see who's here. Queen Kettricken?
What's all this? The Fitz! What is this about? His voice was not
strong, and there was a querulous note to it, but for all that, he
was better than I had expected. As the Fool drew back the bed
curtains and propped pillows behind him, I found myself facing a
man who looked older than Chade. The resemblance between the two
seemed to become more marked as Shrewd aged. The flesh of the
King's face had fallen, to reveal the same browline and cheekbones
as his bastard brother. The eyes beneath those brows were alert,
but weary. He seemed better than the last time I had seen him. He
pushed himself more upright to confront us. Well, what is this
about? he demanded, his eyes scanning our circle.

Verity bowed deeply, formally, and Kettricken
echoed it with her curtsy. I did as I knew was required: went down
on one knee and stayed there, head bowed. I still managed to peek
up when Verity spoke. King Shrewd. My father. I come to ask your
permission for an undertaking.

Which is? the King asked testily.

Verity lifted his eyes to meet his father's. I
wish to leave Buckkeep with a picked band of men, to attempt to
follow the same path King Wisdom took so long ago. I wish to
journey this winter to the Rain Wilds beyond the Mountain Kingdom,
to find the Elderlings and ask them to keep the pledge they made to
our ancestor.

An incredulous look passed briefly over Shrewd's
face. He pushed himself upright in bed, swung his thin legs over
the side. Fool. Bring wine. Fitz, get up and help him. Kettricken,
dear, your arm if you will to help me to that chair by the fire.
Verity, fetch the small table by the window. Please.

With this handful of requests, Shrewd popped the
bubble of formality. Kettricken helped him with a familiarity that
showed me she had a genuine bond with the old man. The Fool pranced
off to the cupboard in the sitting room for wineglasses, leaving me
to select a bottle of wine from the small store that Shrewd kept in
his rooms. The bottles were covered in dust, as if he had not
tasted these wines for a long time. I wondered suspiciously what
was the source for what Wallace gave him. At least the rest of the
room, I noted, was in good order. Much better than it had been
before Winterfest. The Smoke censers that had so distressed me
stood cold in the corner. And tonight the King seemed to have his
wits still.

The Fool helped the King into a thick woolen
robe and knelt to slipper his feet. Shrewd settled into his chair
by the fire and set his wineglass on the table at his elbow. Older.
Much older. But the King I had reported to so often in my youth
once more held council before me. Suddenly I wished I could be the
one speaking to him tonight. This sharp-eyed old man might actually
hear out my reasons for wishing to wed Molly. I felt a new roiling
of anger at Wallace for the habits he had led my king
into.

But this was not my time. Despite the King's
informality, Verity and Kettricken were strung tight as bowstrings.
The Fool and I brought chairs that they might be seated to either
side of Shrewd. I stood behind Verity and waited.

Tell it simply, Shrewd requested of Verity, and
he did. Kettricken's scrolls were unfurled one at a time, and
Verity read aloud the pertinent passages. The old map was studied
at length. Shrewd did nothing but ask questions at first, making no
comments or judgments until he was sure he had from them every
scrap of information. The Fool stood at his elbow, alternately
beaming at me and making terrible faces at Verity's page in an
attempt to make the petrified boy at least smile. I think it more
likely he frightened the lad. Rosemary forgot entirely where she
was and wandered off to toy with the tassels on the bed
curtains.

When Verity had finished speaking, and
Kettricken had added her comments, the King leaned back in his
chair. He drained the bit of wine that was still in his glass, then
held it out to the Fool to refill. He took a sip, sighed, then
shook his head. No. There is too much of pecksies and nursery tales
to this for you to undertake it right now, Verity. You have shown
me enough to make me believe it worth our while to send an emissary
there. A man of your choosing, with a fitting entourage, gifts, and
letters from you and me to confirm he is there at our behest. But
yourself, the King-in-Waiting? No. We have not the resources to
spare just now. Regal was at me earlier today, going over the costs
of the new ships being built, and the fortifying of the towers on
Antler Island. Money is becoming scarce. And it might not make the
folk feel safe to have you leave the city.

I do not flee, I leave on a quest. A quest with
their benefit as my goal. And I leave behind my queen-in-waiting,
to represent me to them while I am gone. I did not have in mind a
caravan with minstrels and cooks and embroidered tents, sir. We
would be traveling on snowy roads, going into the heart of winter
itself. I would take a military contingent, and travel as soldiers
do. As I always have.

And you think this would impress the Elderlings?
If you find them? If they ever existed at all?

Legend has it that King Wisdom went on his own.
I believe the Elderlings existed, and that he found them. If I
fail, I will return, to take up again with my Skilling and my
warships. What will we have lost? If I succeed, I bring back a
powerful ally.

And if you die in the seeking? Shrewd asked
heavily.

Verity opened his mouth to reply. But before he
could speak, the sitting room door was flung open and Regal boiled
into the room. His face was flushed. What goes on here? Why was I
not informed of this council? He shot me a venomous look. Behind
him, Wallace peeked in at the door.

Verity permitted himself a small smile. If you
were not informed by your spies, why are you here now? Rebuke them
that you did not know sooner, not me. Wallace's head jerked back
out of sight.

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