Assassin 3 - Royal Assassin (65 page)

Yes, my king. You have, I answered
softly.

Good. Then see you keep your word to me as well.
He leaned back heavily in his chair.

I shall, Your Majesty, I promised, and the
Fool's eyes met mine as he witnessed again that promise.

For a few moments the room was still, save for
the crackling of the fire. Then the King sat up as if startled by a
sound. He looked about confusedly. Verity? Where's
Verity?

He's gone on a quest, my king. To seek the help
of the Elderlings to drive the Red-Ships from our
shores.

Ah, yes. Of course. Of course he has. But just
for a moment, I thought ... He leaned back in his chair. Then all
the hair on my skin prickled up. I could feel him vaguely Skilling,
in an unfocused fumbling way. His mind tugged at mine like old
hands seeking for a grip. I had believed him incapable of Skilling
anymore, I had thought that he had burned out his talent years ago.
Verity had told me once that Shrewd used his talent but seldom
anymore. I had set those words aside as his loyalty to his father.
But the ghostly Skill plucked at my thoughts like unschooled
fingers at harp strings. I sensed Nighteyes hackling at this new
invasion. Silence, I cautioned him.

My breath snagged suddenly on an idea. Fostered
by Verity within me? I set aside all cautions, reminded myself that
this was what I had promised this man so long ago. Loyalty in all
things. My king? I asked his permission as I moved my stool closer
to his chair. I took his withered hand in mine.

It was like plunging myself into a rushing
river. Ah, Verity, my boy, there you are! Just for a moment I
glimpsed Verity as King Shrewd still saw him. A chubby boy of eight
or nine, more friendly than smart, not so tall as his big brother,
Chivalry. But a sound and likable Prince, an excellent second son,
not too ambitious, not too questioning. Then, just as if I had
stepped off a riverbank, I tumbled into a black, rushing roar of
Skill. It was disorienting to see suddenly through Shrewd's eyes.
The edges of his vision were filmy with haze. For a moment I
glimpsed Verity forging wearily through snow.

What's this? Fitz? Then I was whirled away,
carried into the heart of King Shrewd's pain. Skilled deep inside
him, beyond where the herbs and smoke deadened him, I was scorched
with the agony. It was a slow growing pain, along his spine and in
his skull, a pushing crowding thing that would not be ignored. His
choices were to be consumed by the agony that would not let him
think, or to deaden his body and mind with herbs and Smokes to hide
from it. But deep inside his fogged mind, a King still lived and
raged at his confinement. The spirit was still there, battling the
body that no longer obeyed him and the pain that devoured the last
years of his life. I swear I saw him, a young man, perhaps a year
or so older than myself. His hair had been as bushy and unruly as
Verity's, his eyes were wide and lively, and once his face's only
lines had been from a wide grin. This was who he still was, in his
soul, this young man, trapped and desperate. He seized on me,
asking wildly, Is there a way out? I felt myself sinking with his
grip.

Then, like two rivers merging, another force
crashed against me, sent me spinning with its current. Boy! Contain
yourself. It was as if strong hands steadied me and established me
as a separate strand in the twisting rope we were forming. Father.
I am here. Are you in need?

No. No. All is as it has been for some time. But
Verity ...

Yes. I am here.

Bearns is no longer true to us. Brawndy harbors
Red-Ships there, in exchange for protection for his own villages.
He has turned on us. When you come home, you must ...

The thought wandered, lost strength.

Father. Whence come these tidings? I sensed
Verity's sudden desperation. If what Shrewd spoke was true, there
was no hope for Buckkeep to stand the winter.

Regal has spies. They bring word to him, and he
comes to me. This must remain a secret, for a time, until we have
the strength to strike back at Brawndy. Or until we decide to
abandon him to his Red-Ship friends. Yes. That is Regal's plan. To
hold the Red-Ships off from Buck, and then they will turn on
Brawndy and punish him for us. Brawndy even sent a false call for
help, in the hopes of luring our warships to their
destruction.

Can this be so?

All Regal's spies confirm it. And I fear we can
no longer trust your foreign wife. While Brawndy was here, Regal
marked how she dallied with him, and made many excuses for private
talk. He fears that she plots with our enemies to overthrow the
throne.

THIS IS NOT SO! The force of this denial went
through me like a sword's point. For an instant I was drowning
again, lost, selfless, in the flood of Skill passing through me.
Verity sensed it, steadied me again. We must be careful of the boy.
He has not the strength to be used like this. Father. I beg you.
Trust my queen. I know she is not false. And be wary of what Regal
's spies report to you. Put spies upon the spies, before you act on
any of their reports. Consult with Chade. Promise me
this.

I am not a fool, Verity. I know how to hold my
throne.

Good. Good then. Make sure the boy is tended to.
He is not trained for this.

Someone snatched my hand back then, as if from a
burning stove. I sagged forward, put my head down between my knees
while the world spun around me. Next to me, I could hear King
Shrewd panting for his breath as if he had run a race. The Fool
pushed a glass of wine into my hand, then went back to urging small
sips of wine into the King. And over all, suddenly, Wallace's
voice, demanding, What have you done to the King?

It is both of them! There was a sharp edge of
fear to the Fool's voice. They were talking together, quite calmly,
then suddenly this! Take the damned Smoke censers away! I fear you
have killed them both!

Silence, Fool! Do not accuse my healing of this!
But I heard the hurry in Wallace's step as he made the rounds of
the room, pinching out the burning twists in each censer or capping
them with brass cups. In a moment the windows were thrown wide to
the icy winter night. The cool air steadied me. I managed to sit up
and take a sip of the wine. Gradually my senses came back to me.
Even so, I was still sitting there when Regal came bustling into
the room, demanding to know what had happened. He addressed the
question to me, as the Fool was helping Wallace put the King to
bed.

I shook my head at him dumbly, and the giddiness
was not all pretended.

How is the King? Will he recover? he called to
Wallace.

Wallace immediately came hurrying to Regal's
side. He seems to be steadying, Prince Regal. I do not know what
overcame him. There was no sign of a struggle, but he is as wearied
as if he had run a race. His health will not stand this sort of
excitement, my prince.

Regal turned an appraising glance on me. What
did you do to my father? he growled.

I? Nothing. That at least was truthful. Whatever
had happened, it had been the King's doing and Verity's. We were
talking quietly. Suddenly I felt overwhelmed. Dizzy. Weak. As if I
were losing consciousness. I turned my gaze to Wallace. Could it
have been the Smoke?

Perhaps, he conceded unhappily. He looked
nervously at Regal's darkening stare. Well, it seems every day I
must make it stronger, for it to have any effect at all. And still
he complains that-

SILENCE! Regal cut him off with a roar. He
gestured at me as if I were offal. Get him out of here. Then get
back here to tend the King.

At that moment Shrewd moaned in his sleep, and I
felt again the feathersoft brushing of the Skill against my senses.
My hair hackled.

No. Go to the King now, Wallace. Fool. You get
the Bastard out of here. And see that this is not spoken of amongst
the servants. I shall know if I am disobeyed. Hurry up, now. My
father is not well.

I had thought I could rise on my own and depart,
but found that I did need the Fool's assistance, at least to stand.
Once I was up on my feet, I teetered along precariously, feeling as
if I tottered on stilts. Walls loomed near and then far, the floor
heaved gently beneath me like the deck of a ship when she rides a
slow swell.

I can manage from here, I told the Fool once we
were outside the door. He shook his head.

You are too vulnerable to be left alone just
now, he told me quietly, and then linked arms with me, and began
some nonsensical discourse. He put a fine front of camaraderie on
helping me up the stairs and to my door. He waited, chattering on,
while I unlatched it and then followed me in.

I told you, I am all right, I said with some
annoyance. All I wanted to do was lie down.

Are you? And how is my king? What did you do to
him, back there?

I did nothing! I gritted out as I sat down on
the foot of my bed. My head was beginning to pound. Elfbark tea.
That was what I needed just now. I had none.

You did! You asked his permission, and then you
took his hand. And in the next instant you were both gasping like
fish.

Just an instant? It had felt like hours to me. I
had thought the whole evening spent.

No more than three heartbeats.

Ooh. I put my hands to my temples, tried to push
my skull back into one piece. Why did Burrich have to be gone just
now? I knew he would have elfbark. The pain demanded I take a
chance. Do you have any elfbark? For tea?

With me? No. But I could go beg some of Lacey.
She keeps a horde of all sorts of herbs.

Would you?

What did you do to the King? The trade he
offered was plain.

The pressure in my head built, pushing out on my
eyes. Nothing, I gasped. And what he did to me is for him to tell.
If he chooses. Is that plain enough for you?

A silence. Perhaps. Are you really in that much
pain?

I lay back very slowly on my bed. Even putting
my head down hurt.

I'll be back shortly, he offered. I heard the
door of my room open and shut. I lay still, eyes closed. Gradually
the sense of what I had eavesdropped on formed itself in my mind.
Despite my pain, I sorted information. Regal had spies. Or claimed
to. Brawndy was a traitor. Or so Regal claimed his supposed spies
had informed him. I suspected Brawndy was as much a traitor as
Kettricken was. Oh, the spreading poison. And the pain. Suddenly I
remembered the pain. Had not Chade bid me simply to observe as I
had been taught to find an answer to my question? It had been plain
before me all the time, if only I had not been so blinded with
fears of traitors and plots and poisons.

A disease was eating King Shrewd, gnawing him
away from the inside. He drugged himself against the pain. In an
effort to have some corner of his mind to himself, a place where
the pain could not come and rob him. If someone had just told me of
that a few hours ago, I would have scoffed. Now, lying on my bed,
trying to breathe softly because the slightest movement triggered
another wave of agony, I could understand. Pain. I'd only been
enduring this for a few minutes, and I'd already sent the Fool
running for elfbark. Another consideration pushed itself into my
mind. I expected this pain to pass, that by tomorrow I would rise
up free from it. What if I had to face it every moment for the rest
of my life, with the certainty that it was devouring what hours
were left to me? No wonder Shrewd kept himself drugged.

I heard my door open and close quietly. When I
did not hear the Fool begin to make tea, I forced my eyes open.
Justin and Serene stood inside the doors of my room. They stood
frozen, as if in the lair of a savage beast. When I shifted my head
slightly to look at them, Serene's lips actually drew back as if
she snarled. Within me, Nighteyes snarled back. The tempo of my
heart suddenly increased. Danger here. I tried to loosen my
muscles, to be ready to take any action. But the pain bludgeoning
my head bade me only be still, be still. I didn't hear your knock,
I managed to say. Each word was edged in red as my voice echoed in
my skull.

I didn't knock, Serene said harshly. Her clearly
spoken words were as painful to me as a clubbing. I prayed she
didn't know how much power she had over me just then. I prayed for
the Fool to come back. I tried to appear nonchalant, as if I kept
to my bed only because I considered Serene's visit so
unimportant.

Did you need something from me? I sounded
brusque. In reality, each word cost too much effort to waste even
one.

Need? Never, Serene scoffed.

Skill nudged me. Clumsily. Justin, prodding at
me. I could not repress the shudder that went through me. My king's
use of me had left my mind as raw as a bleeding wound. Justin's
awkward Skilling was like having cat's claws rake my
brain.

Shield yourself. Verity was a whisper. I made an
effort to set my guards, but could not find enough of myself to do
it. Serene was smiling.

Justin was pushing into my mind like a hand
shoving into a pudding. My senses jumbled suddenly. He smelled foul
in my head, he was a terrible rotten greenish yellow and sounded
like spurs jingling. Shield, Verity pleaded. He sounded desperate,
weak, and I knew he was trying very hard to hold the tattered
pieces of myself together for me. He's going to kill you with sheer
stupidity. He doesn't even know what he's doing.