Assassin 3 - Royal Assassin (10 page)

BOOK: Assassin 3 - Royal Assassin
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At least, I attempted to. She stiff-armed me
away, saying gruffly, I shall never kiss a drunk. That's one
promise I've made to myself and shall always keep. Nor be kissed by
one. Her voice was tight.

I'm not drunk, I'm ... sick, I protested. The
surge of excitement had made my head spin more than ever. I swayed
on my feet. It doesn't matter anyway. You're here and
safe.

She steadied me. A reflex she had learned taking
care of her father. Oh. I see. You're not drunk. Disgust and
disbelief mingled in her voice. You're not the scriber's boy,
either. Nor a stable hand. Is lying how you always begin with
people? It seems to be how you always end.

I didn't lie, I said querulously, confused by
the anger in her voice. I wished I could make my eyes meet hers. I
just didn't tell you quite ... it's too complicated. Molly, I'm
just so glad you're all right. And here in Buckkeep! I thought I
was going to have to search ... She still gripped me, holding me on
my feet. I'm not drunk. Really. I did lie just now, because it was
embarrassing to admit how weak I am.

And so you lie. Her voice cut like a whip. You
should be more embarrassed to lie, Newboy. Or is lying permitted to
a Prince's son?

She let go of me and I sagged against a wall. I
tried to get a grip on my whirling thoughts while keeping my body
vertical. I'm not a Prince's son, I said at last. I'm a bastard.
That's different. And yes, that was too embarrassing to admit, too.
But I never told you I wasn't the Bastard. I just always felt, when
I was with you, I was Newboy. It was nice, having a few friends who
looked at me and thought, `Newboy' instead of `the
Bastard.'

Molly didn't reply. Instead she grabbed me, much
more roughly than before, by my shirtfront, and hauled me down the
hall to my room. I was amazed at how strong women were when they
were angry. She shouldered the door open as if it were a personal
enemy and propelled me toward my bed. As soon as I was close, she
let go and I fell against it. I righted myself and managed to sit
down. By clutching my hands tightly together and gripping them
between my knees, I could control my trembling. Molly stood glaring
at me. I couldn't precisely see her. Her outline was blurred, her
features a smear, but I could tell by the way she stood that she
was furious.

After a moment I ventured, I dreamed of you.
While I was gone.

She still didn't speak. I felt a bit braver. I
dreamed you were at Siltbay. When it was raided. My words came out
tight with my effort to keep my voice from shaking. I dreamed of
fires, and Raiders attacking. In my dream, there were two children
you had to protect. It seemed like they were yours. Her silence
held like a wall against my words. She probably thought I was ten
kinds of an idiot, babbling about dreams. And why, oh why, of all
the people in the world who could have seen me so unmanned, why did
it have to be Molly? The silence had grown long. But you were here,
at Buckkeep and safe. I tried to steady my quavering voice. I'm
glad you're safe. But what are you doing at Buckkeep?

What am I doing here? Her voice was as tight as
mine. Anger made it cold, but I thought it was hedged with fear,
too. I came looking for a friend. She paused and seemed to strangle
for a bit. When she spoke again, her voice was artificially calm,
almost kind. You see, my father died and left me a debtor. So my
creditors took my shop from me. I went to stay with relatives, to
help with the harvest, to earn money to start again. In Siltbay.
Though how you came to know of it, I cannot even guess. I earned a
bit and my cousin was willing to loan me the rest. The harvest had
been good. I was to come back to Buckkeep the next day. But Siltbay
was raided. I was there, with my nieces .... Briefly, her voice
trailed away. I remembered with her. The ships, the fire, the
laughing woman with the sword. I looked up at her and could almost
focus on her. I could not speak. But she was looking off, over my
head. She spoke on calmly.

My cousins lost everything they owned. They
counted themselves lucky, for their children survived. I couldn't
ask them to loan me money still. Truth was, they couldn't even have
paid me for the work I had done, if I had thought to ask. So I came
back to Buckkeep, with winter closing in, and no place to stay. And
I thought, I've always been friends with Newboy. If there's anyone
I could ask to loan me money to tide me over, it would be him. So I
came up to the Keep, and asked for the scriber's boy. But everyone
shrugged and sent me to Fedwren. And Fedwren listened as I
described you, and frowned, and sent me to Patience. Molly paused
significantly. I tried to imagine that meeting, but shuddered away
from it. She took me on as a lady's maid, Molly said softly. She
said it was the least she could do, after you had shamed
me.

Shamed you? I jerked upright. The world rocked
around me and my blurry vision dissolved into sparks. How? How
shamed you?

Molly's voice was quiet. She said you had
obviously won my affections, and then left me. Under my false
assumption that you would someday be able to marry me, I'd let you
court me.

I didn't ... I faltered, and then: We were
friends. I didn't know you felt any more than that ....

You didn't? She lifted her chin; I knew that
gesture. Six years ago she would have followed it with a punch to
my stomach. I still flinched. But she just spoke more quietly when
she said, I suppose I should have expected you to say that. It's an
easy thing to say.

It was my turn to be nettled. You're the one who
left me, with not even a word of farewell. And with that sailor,
Jade. Do you think I don't know about him? I was there, Molly. I
saw you take his arm and walk away with him. Why didn't you come to
me, then, before leaving with him?

She drew herself up. I had been a woman with
prospects. Then I became, all unwittingly, a debtor. Do you imagine
that I knew of the debts my father had incurred, and then ignored?
Not till after he was buried did the creditors come knocking. I
lost everything. Should I have come to you as a beggar, hoping
you'd take me in? I'd thought that you'd cared about me. I believed
that you wanted ... El damn you, why do I have to admit this to
you! Her words rattled against me like flung stones. I knew her
eyes were blazing, her cheeks flushed. I thought you did want to
marry me, that you did want a future with me. I wanted to bring
something to it, not come to you penniless and prospectless. I'd
imagined us with a little shop, me with my candles and herbs and
honey, and you with your scriber's skills .... And so I went to my
cousin, to ask to borrow money. He had none to spare, but arranged
for my passage to Siltbay, to talk to his elder brother Flint. I've
told you how that ended. I worked my way back here on a fishing
boat, Newboy, gutting fish and putting them down in salt. I came
back to Buckkeep like a beaten dog. And I swallowed my pride and
came up here that day, and found out how stupid I was, how you'd
pretended and lied to me. You are a bastard, Newboy. You
are.

For a moment I listened to an odd sound, trying
to comprehend what it was. Then I knew. She was crying, in little
catches of her breath. I knew if I tried to stand and go to her,
I'd fall on my face. Or I'd reach her, and she'd knock me flat. So
stupidly as any drunk, I repeated, Well, what about Jade, then? Why
did you find it so easy to go to him? Why didn't you come to me
first?

I told you! He's my cousin, you moron! Her anger
flared past her tears. When you're in trouble, you turn to your
family. I asked him for help, and he took me to his family's farm,
to help out with the harvest. A moment of silence. Then,
incredulously: What did you think? That I was the type of woman who
could have another man on the side? Icily. That I would let you
court me, and be seeing someone else?

No. I didn't say that.

Of course you would. She said it as if it
suddenly all made sense. You're like my father. He always believed
I lied, because he told so many lies himself. Just like you. `Oh,
I'm not drunk,' when you stink of it and you can barely stand. And
your stupid story: `I dreamed of you at Siltbay.' Everyone in town
knew I went to Siltbay. You probably heard the whole story tonight,
while you were sitting in some tavern.

No, I didn't, Molly. You have to believe me. I
clutched at the blankets on the bed to keep myself upright. She had
turned her back on me.

No. I don't! I don't have to believe anyone
anymore. She paused, as if considering something. You know, once, a
long time ago, when I was a little, little girl. Before I even met
you. Her voice was getting oddly calmer. Emptier, but calmer. It
was at Springfest. I remember when I asked my daddy for some
pennies for the fair booths, he slapped me and said he wouldn't
waste money on foolish things like that. And then he locked me in
the shop and went drinking. But even then I knew how to get out of
the shop. I went to the fair booths anyway, just to see them. One
was an old man telling fortunes with crystals. You know how they
do. They hold the crystal to a candle's light, and tell your future
by how the colors fall across your face. She paused.

I know, I admitted to her silence. I knew the
type of Hedge wizard she meant. I'd seen the dance of colored
lights across a woman's close-eyed face. Right now I only wished I
could see Molly clearly. I thought if I could meet her eyes, I
could make her see the truth inside me. I wished I dared stand, to
go to her and try to hold her again. But she thought me drunk, and
I knew I'd fall. I would not shame myself in front of her
again.

A lot of the other girls and women were getting
their fortunes told. But I didn't have a penny, so I could only
watch. But after a bit the old man noticed me. I guess he thought I
was shy. He asked me if I didn't want to know my fortune. And I
started crying, because I did, but I didn't have a penny. Then
Brinna the fishwife laughed, and said there was no need for me to
pay to know it. Everyone knew my future already. I was the daughter
of a drunk, I'd be the wife of a drunk, and the mother of drunks.
She whispered, Everyone started laughing. Even the old
man.

Molly, I said. I don't think she even heard
me.

I still don't have a penny, she said slowly. But
at least I know I won't be the wife of a drunk. I don't think I
even want to be friends with one.

You have to listen to me. You're not being fair!
My traitorous tongue slurred my words. I-

The door slammed.

-didn't know you liked me that way, I said
stupidly to the cold and empty room.

The shaking overtook me in earnest. But I wasn't
going to lose her that easily again. I rose and managed two strides
before the floor rocked beneath me and I went to my knees. I
remained there a bit, head hanging like a dog. I didn't think she'd
be impressed if I crawled after her. She'd probably kick me. If I
could even find her. I crawled back to my bed instead, and
clambered back onto it. I didn't undress, but just dragged the edge
of my blanket over me. My vision dimmed, closing in black from the
edges, but I didn't sleep right away. Instead, I lay there and
thought what a stupid boy I had been last summer. I had courted a
woman, thinking that I was walking out with a girl. Those three
years difference in age had mattered so much to me, but in all the
wrong ways. I had thought she had seen me as a boy, and despaired
of winning her. So I had acted like a boy, instead of trying to
make her see me as a man. And the boy had hurt her, and yes,
deceived her, and in all likelihood, lost her forever. The dark
closed down, blackness everywhere but for one whirling
spark.

She had loved the boy, and foreseen a life
together for us. I clung to the spark and sank into
sleep.

CHAPTER FOUR

Dilemmas

AS REGARDS THE Wit and the Skill, I
suspect that every human has at least some capacity. I have seen
women rise abruptly from their tasks to go into an adjacent room
where an infant is just beginning to awake. Cannot this be some
form of the Skill? Or witness the wordless cooperation that arises
among a crew that has long tended the same vessel. They function,
without spoken words, as closely as a coterie, so that the ship
becomes almost a beast alive, and the crew her life force. Other
folk sense an affinity for certain animals, and express it in a
crest or in the names they bestow upon their children. The Wit
opens one to that affinity. The Wit allows awareness of all
animals, but folklore insists that most Wit users eventually
develop a bond with one certain animal. Some tales recount that
users of the Wit eventually took on the ways and finally the form
of the beasts they bonded to. These tales, I believe, we can
dismiss as scare tales to discourage children from Beast
magic.

I awoke in the afternoon. My room was cold. No
fire at all. My sweaty clothes clung to me. I staggered downstairs
to the kitchen, ate something, went out to the bathhouse, began
trembling, and went back up to my room. I got back into my bed,
shaking with cold. Later someone came in and talked to me. I don't
remember what was said, but I do remember being shaken. It was
unpleasant, but I could ignore it and did.

I awoke in early evening. There was a fire in my
hearth, and a neat pile of firewood in the hod. A little table had
been drawn up near my bed, and some bread and meat and cheese was
set out on a platter atop an embroidered cloth with tatted edges. A
fat pot with brewing herbs in the bottom was waiting for water from
the very large kettle steaming over the fire. A washtub and soap
were set out on the other side of the hearth. A clean nightshirt
had been left across the foot of my bed; it wasn't one of my old
ones. It might actually fit me.

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