Assassin 3 - Royal Assassin (86 page)

I cannot come.

I leaped to my feet, my legs tangling in the
chair's, and fell on the rug. Frantically I scrabbled to my feet,
and even more frantically scrabbled after the contact.
Verity!

I hear you. What is it, boy? A pause. You've
reached me on your own, have you? Well done!

We need you to come home right now!

Why?

Thoughts tumbled so much faster than words, and
in far greater detail than he could have wished to know. I felt him
grow sad with the information, and wearier. Come home. If you were
here, you could put it all to rights. Regal could not claim to be
King-in-Waiting, he could not strip Buckkeep like this, or take
away the King.

I cannot. Be calm now. Think this through. I
could not come home in time to prevent any of this. It grieves me.
But I am too close now to give up my goal. And if I am to be a
father –
his
thoughts were warm with this
new feeling
–
it becomes even more
important that I succeed. My goal must be to retain the Six Duchies
intact, and with a coast freed of sea wolves. This, for the child
to inherit.

What am I to do?

Just as you have planned. My father, my wife,
and my child; it is a weighty burden I have put upon you. He
sounded suddenly uncertain.

I will do what I can do, I told him, fearing to
promise any more than that.

I have faith in you. He paused. Did you feel
that?

What?

Another is here, trying to break in, to listen
on our Skilling. One of Galen's spying brood of vipers.

I did not think that possible!

Galen found a way, and schooled his poisonous
offspring in it. Skill no more to me now.

I felt something similar to when he had broken
our Skill contact the last time to save Shrewd's strength, but much
rougher. A surging outward of Verity's Skill that pushed someone
away from us. I thought I felt the effort it cost him. Our Skill
contact broke.

He was gone, as abruptly as I had found him. I
groped tentatively after our contact, found nothing. What he had
said about another listening in on us rattled me. Fear warred with
triumph in me. I had Skilled. We had been spied upon. But I had
Skilled, alone and unaided! But how much had they overheard? I
pushed back the chair from the table, sat a moment longer in the
storm of my thoughts. Skilling had been easy. I still didn't know
quite how I had initiated it, but it had been easy. I felt like a
child who had worked a puzzle box, but was unable to recall the
exact sequence of moves. The knowledge that it could be done made
me want instantly to attempt it again. I set the temptation aside
firmly. I had other tasks to accomplish, ones of far more
weight.

I sprang up and rushed out of the study, almost
tripping over Justin. He sat, legs outstretched, with his back
against the wall. He looked drunk. I knew better. He was
half-stunned by the push Verity had given him. I brought myself up
short and stared down at him. I knew I should kill him. The poison
I had composed for Wallace so long ago still rode in a pocket in my
cuff. I could force it down his throat. But it was not designed to
act quickly. As if he could guess my thoughts, he cowered away from
me, scrabbling along the wall.

For a moment longer I stared at him, striving to
think calmly. I had promised Chade to take no more actions on my
own without consulting him. Verity had not bid me find and kill the
spy. He could have, in less than an instant of thought. This
decision did not belong to me. One of the hardest things I have
ever done was to force myself to walk away from Justin. Half a
dozen strides down the hall, I suddenly heard him blurt, I know
what you've been doing!

I rounded to confront him. What are you talking
about? I asked in a low voice. My heart began to thunder. I hoped
he'd make me kill him. Frightening to know suddenly how badly I
wanted to.

He blanched but did not back down. He reminded
me of a braggart child. You walk like you are the King himself, you
sneer down at me, and make mock of me behind my back. Don't think I
don't know it! He clawed his way up the wall, staggered to his
feet. But you are not so great. You Skill once, and think you are a
master, but your Skilling stinks of your dog magic! Do not think
you will walk so proud always. You will be brought down! And
soon!

A wolf clamored in me for instant vengeance. I
leashed my temper. Do you dare to spy upon my Skilling to Prince
Verity, Justin? I did not think you had the courage.

You know I did, Bastard. I do not fear you so
that I must hide from you. I dare much; Bastard! Much more than you
would suppose. His stance showed him growing braver by the
minute.

Not if I suppose treachery and treason, though.
Has not King-in-Waiting Verity been declared dead, oh loyally sworn
coterie member? Yet you spy upon me Skilling to him, and you
express no surprise?

For a moment Justin stood stock-still. Then he
grew bold. Say what you like, Bastard. No one will believe you if
we deny it.

Have the sense to be silent at least, Serene
declared. She came down the hallway like a ship under full sail. I
did not step aside, but forced her to brush past me. She seized
Justin's arm, claiming him like a dropped basket.

Silence is but another form of lying, Serene.
She had turned Justin about and was walking him away from me. You
know that King Verity still lives! I shouted after them. Do you
think he will never return? Do you think you will never have to
answer for the lie you live?

They turned a corner and were gone, leaving me
to seethe silently, and curse myself for shouting so blatantly
aloud what as yet we must conceal. But the incident had pushed me
into an aggressive frame of mind. I left Verity's study and prowled
the Keep. The kitchens were abustle and Cook had no time for me,
other than to ask if I had heard that a serpent had been found
lying before the fire on the main hearth. I said doubtless it had
crawled into the firewood to shelter for the winter and come in
with a log. The warmth would have brought it to life. She just
shook her head and said she had never heard of the like, but that
it boded evil. She told me again of the Pocked Man by the well, but
in her story, he had been drinking from the bucket, and when he
lowered it from his spotted face, the water that ran down his chin
was red as blood. She was making the kitchen boys bring water from
the well in the washing courts for all the cooking. She'd have no
one dropping dead at her table.

On that cheerful note, I left the kitchen, with
a couple of sweet cakes I had light-fingered from a tray. I had not
gotten far before a page stood before me. FitzChivalry, son of
Chivalry? he addressed me cautiously.

His wider cheekbones marked him as probably
being Bearns stock, and when I looked for it, I found the yellow
flower that was the Bearns sigil sewn to his patched jerkin. For a
boy of his height, he was wretchedly thin. I nodded
gravely.

My master, Duke Brawndy of
Bea
rn
s, desires that you
wait upon him as soon as you handily may. He spoke the words
carefully. I doubted he had been a page long.

That would be now.

Then shall I show you to him?

I can find my way. Here. I should not take these
up there with me. I handed him the sweet cakes, and he received
them doubtfully.

Shall I save them for you, sir? he asked
seriously, and it smote me to see a boy put such a high value on
food.

Perhaps you would eat them for me, and if they
suit you, you might go in the kitchens and tell our cook Sara what
you think of her work.

No matter how busy it was in there, I knew a
compliment from a skinny boy would win him at least a bowl of
stew.

Yes, sir! His face lit at my orders and he
hastened away from me, half of one cake already in his
mouth.

The lesser guest rooms were those on the
opposite side of the Great Hall from the King's rooms. They were
considered lesser, I suppose, mostly because their windows faced
onto the mountains rather than the sea, and hence the rooms were
gloomier. But the chambers were no smaller, nor less handsome in
any other way.

Save that the last time I had been admitted to
one, it had been decently furnished. Bea
rn
s guards admitted me to a sitting room
that offered only three chairs in which to sit and a bare rickety
table in the middle. Faith greeted me, neutrally formal, and then
went to let Duke Brawndy know I was there. The tapestries and
hangings that had once warmed the walls and given color to the
stone chamber were gone. It was as cheery as a dungeon, save that a
warm fire on the hearth brightened it. I remained standing in the
center of the room until Duke Brawndy emerged from his bedchamber
to greet me. He invited me to be seated, and awkwardly we drew two
of the chairs closer to the hearth. There should have been breads
and pastries upon the table, there should have been kettles and
mugs and brewing herbs for tea, and bottles of wine in these rooms
to welcome Buckkeep's guests. It pained me that there were not.
Faith hovered in the background like a hunting hawk. I could not
help but wonder where Celerity was.

We exchanged a few minor pleasantries, and then
Brawndy plunged into his topic like a draft horse into a snowdrift.
I understand King Shrewd is ill, too ill to see any of his dukes.
Regal, of course, is much too busy with preparations for tomorrow.
The sarcasm was heavy as thick cream. So I wished to visit Her
Majesty Queen Kettricken, he announced ponderously. For as you
know, she has been most courteous to me in the past. But at her
door, her ladies told me she was not well and should not have
visitors. I have heard a rumor that she was with child, and that
now, in her grief and her foolishness at riding to Rippon's
defense, she has lost it. Is this so?

I took a breath, studied fair words for my
response. Our king is, as you say, very ill. I do not think you
shall see him, save at the ceremony. Our queen is likewise
indisposed, but I am sure that if she had been told you were at her
door yourself, you would have been admitted. She has not lost the
child. She rode to the defense of Neatbay for the same reasons she
has gifted you with opals; for fear that if she did not act, no
other would. Nor was it her actions at Neatbay that threatened her
child, but a fall down a tower stair here at Buckkeep. And the
child was only threatened, not lost, though our queen was sorely
bruised.

I see. He sat back in his chair and pondered for
a bit. The silence took root between us and grew while I waited. At
last he leaned forward and motioned me to do the same. When our
heads were close together, he asked quietly, FitzChivalry, have you
any ambitions?

This was the moment. King Shrewd had predicted
it years ago, and Chade more recently. When I made no immediate
answer, Brawndy went on as if each word were a stone he shaped
before handing it to me. The heir to the Farseer throne is a babe
as yet unborn. Once Regal has declared himself King-in-Waiting, do
you think he will wait long to claim the throne? We do not. For
although these words come from my lips, I speak for Rippon and
Shoaks Duchies as well. Shrewd has become old, and feeble. A King
in name only. We have had a taste of what kind of king Regal would
be. What should we suffer while Regal holds title until Verity's
child comes of age? Not that I expect the child will manage to be
born, let alone mount the throne. He paused, cleared his throat,
and looked at me earnestly. Faith stood by the door as if guarding
our talk. I kept my silence.

You're a man we know, a son of a man we knew.
You bear his looks and almost his name. You've as much a right to
call yourself royal as many who have worn the crown. He paused
again. Waiting.

Again I kept silent. It was not, I told myself,
a temptation. I would simply hear him out. That was all. He had
said nothing, as yet, that suggested I would betray my
king.

He floundered for words, then looked up and met
my eyes. Times are difficult.

They are, I agreed quietly.

He looked down at his hands. They were worn
hands, hands that bore the small scars and roughness of a man who
did things with them. His shirt was freshly washed and mended, but
it was not a new garment made especially for this occasion. Times
might be hard in Buckkeep, but they were harder in
Bea
rn
s. Quietly he said
it. If you saw fit to oppose Regal, to declare yourself
king-in-waiting in his stead, Bea
rn
s and Rippon and Shoaks would support
you. It is my belief that Queen Kettricken would support you as
well, and that Buck would follow her. He looked up at me again. We
have talked much of this. We believe Verity's child would stand a
better chance of gaining the throne with you as regent than with
Regal.

So. They had dismissed Shrewd already. Why not
follow Kettricken? I asked carefully.

He looked into the flames. It's a hard thing to
say, after she has shown herself so true. But she is foreign-born,
and in some ways untried. It is not that we doubt her; we do not.
Nor would we be setting her aside. Queen she is, and would remain,
and her child to reign after her. But in these times, we need both
king-in-waiting and queen.