Assassin 3 - Royal Assassin (81 page)

A late-afternoon visit to Patience and Lacey was
not the quiet interlude I had hoped for. I knocked, and there was
an uncharacteristic pause before the door was opened. I found the
sitting room in a shambles, worse than I had ever seen it, and
Lacey dispiritedly trying to put things to rights. A great many
more things were on the floor than usual.

A new project? I hazarded, attempting a bit of
levity.

Lacey looked at me glumly. They came this
morning to take my lady's table away. And my bed. They claimed they
were needed for guests. Well, I shouldn't be surprised, with so
much of the rest of the things gone upriver. But I greatly doubt
that we'll see either item again.

Well, perhaps they'll be waiting for you when
you get to Tradeford, I suggested inanely. I had not realized the
whole extent of the liberties Regal was taking.

There was a very long silence before Lacey
spoke. Then they'll wait a long time, FitzChivalry. We are not
among those to be taken to Tradeford.

No. We're among the odd folk to be left here,
with the oddments of furniture. This from Patience as she abruptly
reentered the room. Her eyes were red and her cheeks pale, and I
suddenly knew she had hidden herself when I first knocked until she
had her tears under control.

Then surely you shall return to Withywoods, I
suggested. My mind was working very swiftly. I had assumed that
Regal was moving the entire household to Tradeford. Now I wondered
who else was to be abandoned here. I put myself at the head of the
list. I added Burrich and Chade. The Fool? Perhaps that was why he
seemed lately to be Regal's creature. That he might be allowed to
follow the King to Tradeford.

Odd, how I had not even considered that the King
and Kettricken were to be whisked not only out of Chade's reach,
but mine. Regal had renewed his orders confining me to Buckkeep
itself. I had not wanted to trouble Kettricken to override them. I
had, after all, promised Chade not to make waves.

I cannot return to Withywoods. August rules
there, the King's nephew: He who was head of Galen's coterie,
before his accident. He has no fondness for me, and I have no right
to demand to be there. No. We shall be staying here, and making the
best we can of it.

I floundered for whatever comfort I could offer.
I have a bed still. I shall have it brought down here for Lacey.
Burrich will help me bring it.

Lacey shook her head. I've made up a pallet, and
I'll be comfortable enough. Keep it where it is. Perhaps they
daren't take it from you. Were it down here, no doubt it would just
be carried off tomorrow.

Has King Shrewd no care for what is happening?
Lady Patience asked of me sadly.

I do not know. All are turned away from his door
these days. Regal has said he is too ill to see anyone.

I thought perhaps it was just me he would not
see. Ah, well. Poor man. To lose two sons, and see his kingdom come
to this. Tell me, how is Queen Kettricken? I have not had a chance
to go see her.

Well enough, last I saw her. Grieved by her
husband's death, of course, but-

Then she was not injured in her fall? I feared
she would miscarry. Patience turned aside from me, to gaze at a
wall bereft of a familiar tapestry. I was too cowardly to go and
see her myself, if you would know the truth. I know too well the
pain of losing a child before you have held it in your
arms.

Her fall? I said stupidly.

Had not you heard? On those awful steps coming
down from the Queen's Garden. There was talk that some statuary had
been removed from the gardens, and she had gone up to see what, and
on her way back down she fell. Not a great tumbling fall, but
heavily. On her back on those stone steps.

I could not keep my mind on Patience's
conversation after that. Much of it centered on the depletion of
the libraries, a thing I did not wish to think of anyway. As soon
as I graciously could, I excused myself, on the flimsy promise that
I would bring them direct word of the Queen.

I was turned away from Kettricken's door.
Several ladies told me at once not to fret, not to worry, she was
fine, she but needed to rest, oh, but it was terrible .... I
endured enough to be sure that she had not miscarried, then
fled.

But I did not go back to Patience. Not yet.
Instead, I slowly climbed the stairs to the Queen's Garden. I
carried a lamp with me, and went most carefully. On the tower top,
I found it was as I had feared. The smaller and more valuable of
the statuary had been removed. Only the sheer weight had saved the
larger pieces, I was sure. The missing bits took away the careful
balance of Kettricken's creation and added to the desolation of the
garden in winter. I shut the door carefully behind me and went down
the steps. Ever so slowly. Ever so carefully. On the ninth step
down, I found it. I nearly discovered it as Kettricken had. But I
caught my balance and then crouched low to study the step.
Lampblack had been mixed with the grease, to take the sheen off it
and blend it with the well-used steps. It was right where the foot
would most naturally fall, especially if one were hastening down
the stairs in a temper. Close enough to the tower top that a slip
could be blamed on slush or mud from the gardens still on a shoe. I
rubbed at the black on the step that came off on my fingers, then
sniffed at it.

A fine bit of pork fat, observed the Fool. I
leaped to my feet and nearly fell down the steps. A wild
pinwheeling of my arms brought my balance back.

Interesting. Do you think you could teach me to
do that?

Not funny, Fool. I have been followed of late,
and my nerves are a jangle. I peered down the stairwell into the
darkness. If the Fool had crept up on me, could not Will? How's the
King? I demanded quietly. If this attempt had been made on
Kettricken, I had no faith in Shrewd's safety.

You tell me. The Fool stepped out of the
shadows. Gone were his fine clothes, replaced with an old motley of
blue and red. It went well with the new bruises that mottled one
side of his face. On his right cheek, the flesh had been split. One
arm carried the other close to his chest. I suspected a dislocated
shoulder.

Not again, I gasped.

Exactly what I said to them. They paid small
attention. Some folk just have not the knack of
conversation.

What happened? I thought you and
Regal-

Yes, well, not even a Fool can seem stupid
enough to please Regal. I did not wish to leave King Shrewd's side
today. They were questioning him relentlessly about what had
happened the night of the feast. I became perhaps a trifle too
witty in suggesting other ways they might amuse themselves. They
threw me out.

My heart sank in me. I was sure I knew exactly
which guard had assisted him out the door. It was as Burrich had
always warned me. One could never know what Regal might dare. What
did the King tell them?

Ah! Not, was the King all right, or was the King
recovering? No. Only what did the King tell them? Do you fear your
precious hide is in danger, Princeling?

No. I could feel no resentment at his question,
or even how he phrased it. I deserved it. I had not taken good care
of our friendship lately. Despite that, when he needed help, he had
come to me. No. But as long as the King says nothing of Verity
being alive, then Regal has no reason to-

My king was being ... taciturn. It had started
out as a pleasant conversation between father and son, with Regal
telling him how pleased he should be to have him finally as
king-in-waiting. King Shrewd was rather vague, as he often is these
days. Something about it irritated Regal, and he began to accuse
him of not being pleased, of even being opposed. Finally he began
to insist there was a plot, a conspiracy to see that he never came
to the throne. No man is so dangerous as the man who cannot decide
what he fears. Regal is that man. Even Wallace was put ajar by his
rantings. He had brought the King one of his brews, to deaden his
mind along with his pain, but as he brought it near, Regal dashed
it from his hands. He then spun on the poor trembling Wall's Ass
and accused him of being part of the conspiracy. He claimed Wallace
had intended to drug our king to keep him from speaking what he
knew. He ordered Wallace from the room, saying the King would have
no need of him until he had seen fit to speak plainly to his son.
He ordered me out as well, then. My reluctance to leave was
overcome by a couple of his hulking inland plowmen.

A creeping dread rose in me. I remembered my
moment of sharing the King's pain. Regal would remorselessly watch
while that pain crept past the numbing herbs to overwhelm his
father. I could not imagine a man being capable of this. Yet I knew
Regal would do it. When did this happen?

Just an hour or so ago. You are not an easy
person to find.

I looked more closely at the Fool. Go down to
the stables, to Burrich. See what he can do for you. The healer, I
knew, would not touch the Fool. Like many around the Keep, he
feared his strange appearance.

What will you be doing? the Fool asked
quietly.

I don't know, I replied honestly. This was
exactly one of the situations I had warned Chade about. I knew
whether I acted or not, the consequences would be grave. I needed
to distract Regal from what he was doing. Chade, I was sure, was
aware of what was going on. If Regal and all others could be lured
away for a time ... I could think of only one piece of news that
might be important enough to Regal to make him leave
Shrewd.

You'll be all right?

The Fool had sunk down to sit on the cold stone
steps. He leaned his head against the wall. I suppose so.
Go.

I started down the steps.

Wait! he called suddenly

I halted.

When you take my king away, I go with
him.

I just stared up at him.

I mean it. I wore Regal's collar for the sake of
that promise from him. It means nothing now to him.

I can make no promises, I said
quietly.

I can. I promise that if my king is taken, and I
do not go with him, I will betray every one of your secrets. Every
one. The Fool's voice was shaking. He put his head back against the
wall.

I turned away hastily. The tears on his cheeks
were tinged pink from the cuts on his face. I could not bear to see
them. I ran down the stairs.

CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN

Conspiracy

The Pocked Man at your window
The Pocked Man at your door
The Pocked Man brings the plague days
To stretch you on the floor.

When blue flames at your candles
suck
You know a witch has got your luck.

Don't suffer a snake upon your
hearthstone
Or plague will whittle your children to bone.

Your bread not to rise, your milk to
stand sour,
Your butter not to churn.
Your arrow shafts to twist as they dry,
Your own knife to turn and cut you,
Your roosters to crow by moonlight
By these may a householder know himself cursed.

We will need blood from somewhere. Kettricken
had heard me out, and now made this request as calmly as if asking
for a cup of wine. She looked from Patience to Lacey seeking for
ideas.

I'll go fetch a chicken, Lacey said unwillingly
at last. I'll need a sack to put it in to keep it quiet-

Go then, Patience told her. Go quickly. Bring it
back to my room. I shall fetch a knife and a basin, and we shall do
it there, and bring but a cup of the blood back here. The less we
do here, the less we must conceal.

I had gone first to Patience and Lacey, knowing
I would never get past the Queen's attendants on my own. While I
made a quick visit to my room, they had gone before me to the
Queen, ostensibly taking her a special herbal tea but really to
quietly beg a private audience for me. She had dismissed all her
ladies, telling them she would be fine with just Patience and
Lacey, and then sent Rosemary to fetch me. Rosemary played by the
hearth now, absorbed in dressing a doll.

As Lacey and Patience left the room Kettricken
looked to me. I will splatter my gown and my bedding with the
blood, and I will send for Wallace, telling him I fear a
miscarriage from my fall. But that is as far as I will go, Fitz. I
will not allow that man to lay a hand on me, nor be so foolish as
to drink or eat anything of his concocting. I do this only for the
sake of distracting him from my king. Nor will I say I have lost
the child. Only that I fear it. She spoke fiercely. It chilled me
that she accepted so easily what Regal had done and was doing, and
what I said she must do as a countermove. I wished desperately I
was sure her trust in me was well placed. She did not speak of
treachery or evil. She only discussed strategy as coldly as a
general planning a battle.

It will be enough, I promised her. I know Prince
Regal. Wallace will run to him with the tale, and he will follow
Wallace here, no matter how inappropriate. He will not be able to
resist, he will long to see exactly how well he has
succeeded.

It is tedious enough to have all my women always
commiserating with me over Verity's death. It will be all I can
bear to have them speak as if my child were gone as well. But I can
bear it, if I must. What if they leave a guard with the King?
Kettricken asked.