Assassin 3 - Royal Assassin (57 page)

My prince. I hesitated. He was right. This was
not a thing I wished to grant him. But I had already said I would.
I knew that for the sake of the kingdom, it was a wise thing to do.
But for myself? Already I had felt the boundaries of my self
eroding before Verity's strong presence. We were not talking about
a contact of hours now, or days, but of weeks and likely months. I
wondered if this was what happened to coterie members, if
eventually they ceased having separate lives. What of your coterie?
I asked quietly.

What of them? he retorted. I leave them in
place, in the watchtowers and on my ships for now. Whatever
messages they must send, they can send to Serene. In my absence,
she will take them to Shrewd. If there is anything they feel I must
know, they can Skill me. He paused. There will be other sorts of
information that I would seek through you. Things I would prefer
kept private.

Tidings of his queen, I thought to myself. How
Regal would employ his powers in his brother's absence. Gossip and
intrigues. In one sense, trifling things. In another, the detail
that secured Verity's position. I wished for the thousandth time
that I could Skill reliably of my own accord. If I had had that
ability, Verity would not have needed to ask this of me. I would
have been able to reach out to him at any time. But as matters
stood, the touch-imposed Skill bond we had used over the summer was
our only resource. Through it, he could be aware of what went on at
Buckkeep when he chose to, and I could receive instructions from
him. I hesitated, but already knew that I would accede. From
loyalty to him and to the Six Duchies, I told myself. Not from any
Skill hunger in myself. I looked up at him. I will do
it.

Knowing well that this is how it begins, he
said. It was not a question. Already, this was how accurately we
could read one another. He did not wait for my answer. I will be as
inconspicuous as I can, he promised. I walked to him. He lifted a
hand and touched my shoulder. Verity was with me again, as he had
not consciously been since the day in his study when he had bid me
to shield myself.

The day of the departure was fine, crisply cold,
but the skies were clear blue. Verity, true to his word, had kept
his expedition to a minimum. Riders had been dispatched the morning
after the council to precede him on his route and arrange supplies
and lodgings in the towns where he would pass. This would allow him
to travel swiftly and lightly through much of the Six
Duchies.

As his expedition set off that chill morning I
alone of the crowd did not bid Verity farewell. He nestled inside
my mind, small and silent as a seed waiting for spring. As
unnoticed, almost, as Nighteyes. Kettricken had chosen to watch the
departure from the frosty walls of the Queen's Garden. She had said
her farewells to him earlier, and chosen this spot so that if she
wept, none would take it amiss. I stood at her side and endured the
resonance of what she and Verity had come to share in the last
week. I was both glad for her and heartsick that what she had so
recently found must so quickly be taken from her. Horses and men,
pack animals and banners finally passed behind a shoulder of hills
and out of our sight. Then I felt that which sent a chill up my
spine. She Wit-quested after him. Very faintly, it was true, but
enough that somewhere in my heart, Nighteyes sat up, eyes aflame,
and asked, What's this?

Nothing. Nothing to do with us, anyway. I added,
We hunt together soon, my brother, as we have not for too
long.

For a few days after the cavalcade's departure,
I almost had my own life again. I had dreaded Burrich's leaving
with Verity. I understood what drove him to follow his
king-in-waiting, but felt uncomfortably exposed with them both
gone. That told me much about myself that I really did not want to
know. But the other side of that coin was that with Burrich gone
and Verity's presence inside me coiled tight, Nighteyes and I were
finally free to use the Wit as openly as we wished. Almost every
dawn I was with him, miles from the Keep. On the days when we
sought Forged ones, I rode Sooty, but she did not ever feel
completely comfortable around the wolf. After a time there seemed
far fewer of them, and no more coming into the area. We began to be
able to hunt game for ourselves. For that, I went afoot, for we
hunted more companionably that way. Nighteyes approved of my
physical improvement over the summer. That winter, for the first
time since Regal had poisoned me, I felt I had the full use of my
body and strength again. The vigorous mornings of hunting and the
deep hours of the night with Molly would have been enough life for
any man. There is something completely satisfying about simple
things such as these.

I suppose I wanted my life to be always this
simple and complete. I tried to ignore things I knew were
dangerous. The continued fine weather, I told myself, would assure
Verity a fine start to his journey. I put from my mind whether
there would be any end-of-season raids from the Red-Ships while we
were so unprotected. I avoided, too, Regal and the sudden round of
social occasions that filled Buckkeep with his followers and kept
the torches burning late every night in the Great Hall. Serene and
Justin were also much more in evidence about Buckkeep. I never
entered a room where they were but that I felt the arrows of their
dislike. I began to avoid the common rooms in the evenings, where I
must either encounter them, or Regal's guests who had come to swell
our winter court.

Verity had not been gone more than two days
before I heard rumors that the true purpose of his quest was to
seek the Elderlings. I could not blame these on Regal. Those Verity
had hand-chosen had known of their true mission. Burrich had
ferreted it out for himself. If he could, so could another, and
noise it about. But when I overheard two pantry boys laughing about
King Wisdom's folly, and Prince Verity's myth, I suspected the
ridicule was Regal's doing. Verity's Skilling had made him too much
the recluse. Folk wondered what he did so long alone in his tower.
That is, they knew he Skilled, but that was too tame a topic for
gossip. His preoccupied stare, his odd hours for eating and rest,
his silent ghosting through the castle while other folks were abed
were all grist for this mill. Had he lost his mind, and set out on
a madman's errand? Speculation began to grow, and Regal gave it
fertile ground. He found excuses and reasons for all sorts of
banquets and gatherings of his nobles. King Shrewd was seldom well
enough to be present and Kettricken did not enjoy the company of
the witty knaves that Regal cultivated. I knew enough to stay away.
I had only myself and Chade to grumble to about the cost of these
parties when Regal had insisted that there were scarcely funds for
Verity's expedition. Chade only shook his head.

The old man had become more closemouthed of
late, even with me. I had the uncomfortable feeling that Chade kept
a secret from me. Secrets in themselves were nothing new. The old
assassin was stuffed full of secrets. I simply could not be rid of
the feeling that this secret somehow touched on me directly. I
could not ask him outright, but I watched him. His worktable showed
signs of heavy use when I was not about. Even stranger, all messes
associated with that work had been cleaned meticulously away
whenever he summoned me. This was bizarre. For years I had tidied
after him and his cooking. Now for him to straighten up after
himself seemed either a sharp rebuke to me or a concealment of
whatever he had been doing.

Unable to resist, I watched him whenever I
could. I learned nothing of his secret, but saw much that I had
previously missed. Chade was getting old. The stiffness cold
weather brought to his joints no longer yielded to the cozy
evenings before his hearth. He was Shrewd's elder half brother,
bastard as I was, and despite his stiffness, he still seemed the
younger of the two. But he held scrolls farther from his nose when
he read now and avoided reaching for anything over his head. To
watch these changes in him was as painful as to know he kept a
secret from me.

Twenty-three days after Verity left, I came back
from a dawn hunt with Nighteyes to find the Keep abuzz. The feeling
was that of a stirred ant nest, but with none of their
purposefulness. I went straight to Cook Sara and asked her what had
happened. The kitchen of any keep is the heart of the rumor mill,
second only to the guardroom. At Buckkeep, the kitchen gossip was
usually more accurate.

A rider come in, his horse near to dead. Said
there's been a raid up at Ferry. The whole city near gone from the
fires they set. Seventy folk Forged. How many dead, there's not
telling yet. And more will die, made homeless in this cold. Three
shiploads of Raiders, the boy said. He went straight to Prince
Regal, he did, and reported. Prince Regal sent him here to be fed;
he's in the guardroom now, asleep. She lowered her voice. That boy
came all this way on his own. Got fresh horses in towns he went
through, coming down the coast road, but wouldn't let no one else
carry his message for him. He told me that every leg of the way, he
kept expecting to find help coming, to hear from someone that they
already knew and that ships had been sent out. But there was
nothing.

From Ferry? Then it's been at least five days
since it happened. Why weren't the signal tower fires lit? I
demanded. Or the message birds sent to Gull and Sealbay?
King-in-Waiting Verity left a patrol ship in that area. The patrol
ship should have been able to see the light from Gull or Ferry. And
there's a coterie member, Will, at Red Tower. He should have seen
the signal fires. He should have sent word back here, to Serene.
How could it be that no word was received here; how could we know
nothing at all of this?

Cook lowered her voice even more, gave the dough
she was kneading a meaningful thump. Boy said the signal fires were
lit, at Ferry and at Ice Town. He says the birds were sent to Gull.
The ship never came.

Then why didn't we know? I took a deep
shuddering breath, set aside my useless anger. Within me, I felt a
faint stirring of concern from Verity. Too faint. The Skill bond
was fading, just when I wished it strong. Well, I suppose' it's no
good asking that just now. What has Regal done? Sent out the
Rurisk? I wish I'd been here to go with them.

Cook snorted and paused to throttle the dough a
bit. Go now, then, for you won't be late. Nothing's been done, no
one sent that I've heard. No one sent, no one is being sent. No
one.

You know I've no tongue for gossip, Fitz, but
what was whispered was that Prince Regal did know of it. When the
boy came in, oh, the Prince was so kind, so full of sympathy as to
make the ladies' hearts melt. A meal, a new coat, a small purse for
his troubles. But he told the boy it was too late now. The Raiders
would be long gone. No sense to send a ship out now, or
soldiers.

Too late to fight Raiders, perhaps. But what of
those burned out in Ferry? A contingent of workers to help repair
houses, some wagons of food ...

Says there's no coin for it. Cook bit each word
off separately. She began to break her dough into rolls and to slap
each one down to rise. Says the treasury was drained to build ships
and man them. Said Verity took what little was left for this
expedition to find Elderlings. A world of disdain on that last
word. Cook paused to wipe her hands on her apron. Then he said he
was very sorry. Very truly sorry.

A cold fury uncoiled inside me. I patted Cook's
shoulder and assured her that everything would be all right. Like a
man in a daze, I left the kitchen and went to Verity's study.
Outside the study, I paused, groping. One clear glimpse of Verity's
intent. In the back of a drawer, I would find an antique emerald
necklace, the stones set in gold. It had been his mother's,
mother's. It would be enough to hire men, and buy grain to send
with them. I pushed open the study door, and halted.

Verity was an untidy man, and he had packed
hastily. Charim had gone with him; he had not been here to clean up
after him. But this was no act of either of them. To another man's
eyes, probably little would have seemed amiss. But I saw the room
both as myself and as Verity. It had been gone through. Whoever had
done it had either not cared if it was detected, or had not known
Verity well. Every drawer was neatly shut, every cupboard closed.
The chair was pushed up close to the table. It was all too tidy.
Without much hope, I went to the drawer and opened it. I pulled it
completely open and peered into the back corner. Perhaps Verity's
own untidiness had saved it. I would not have looked for an emerald
necklace under a jumble that included an old spur, a broken belt
buckle, and a piece of antler partly worked into a knife haft. But
it was there, wrapped up in a scrap of homespun. There were several
other small but valuable items to be removed from the room. As I
gathered them I was puzzled. If these had not been taken, what had
been the goal of the search? If not minor valuables, then
what?

Methodically, I sorted out a dozen vellum maps,
and then began to remove several others from the wall. As I was
carefully rolling one of them Kettricken entered silently. My Wit
had made me aware of her before she had even touched the door, so I
glanced up to meet her eyes without surprise. I stood firm before
the surge of Verity's emotion that rushed through me. The sight of
her seemed to strengthen him within me. She was lovely, pale and
slender in a robe of soft blue wool. I caught my breath and looked
aside. She looked at me quizzically.