Assassin 3 - Royal Assassin (6 page)

I nodded, and looked at Burrich to find him
regarding me strangely. When I turned to exchange a puzzled glance
with Hands, I met the same startlement on his face. I could not
guess the reason.

Well, good night to you, Sergeant. Don't chide
your man with the pike. He did well to stop strangers at Buckkeep's
gate.

Yes, sir. Good night, sir. Blade gave me a rusty
salute and the great wooden gates swung wide before us as we
entered the keep. Sooty lifted her head and some of the weariness
fell from her. Behind me, Hands's horse whinnied softly and
Burrich's snorted. Never before had the road from the keep wall to
the stables seemed so long. As Hands dismounted, Burrich caught me
by the sleeve and held me back. Hands greeted the drowsy stable boy
who appeared to light our way.

We've been some time in the Mountain Kingdom,
Fitz, Burrich cautioned me in a low voice. Up there, no one cares
what side of the sheets you were born on. But we're home now. Here,
Chivalry's son is not a Prince, but a bastard.

I know that. I was stung by his directness. I've
known it all my life. Lived it all my life.

You have, he conceded. A strange look stole over
his face, a smile half-incredulous and half-proud. So why are you
demanding reports of the sergeant, and giving out commendations as
briskly as if you were Chivalry himself? I scarce believed it, how
you spoke, and how those men came to heel. You didn't even take
notice of how they responded to you, you didn't even realize you'd
stepped up and taken command away from me.

I felt a slow flush creep up my face. All in the
Mountain Kingdom had treated me as if I were a Prince in fact,
instead of a Prince's bastard. Had I so quickly accustomed myself
to that higher station?

Burrich chuckled at my expression, then quickly
grew sober. Fitz, you need to find your caution again. Keep your
eyes down and don't carry your head like a young stallion. Regal
will take it as a challenge, and that's something we aren't ready
to face. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

I nodded grimly, my eyes on the churned snow of
the stable yard. I had become careless. When I reported to Chade,
the old assassin would not be pleased with his apprentice. I would
have to answer for it. I had no doubt that he would know all about
the incident at the gate before he next summoned me.

Don't be a sluggard. Get down, boy. Burrich
interrupted my musings abruptly. I jumped to his tone and realized
that he, too, was having to readjust to our comparative positions
at Buckkeep. How many years had I been his stable boy and ward?
Best that we resume those roles as closely as possible. It would
save kitchen gossip. I dismounted and, leading Sooty, followed
Burrich into his stables.

Inside it was warm and close. The blackness and
cold of the winter night were shut outside the thick stone walls.
Here was home, the lanterns shone yellow and the stalled horses
breathed slow and deep. But as Burrich passed, the stables came to
life. Not a horse or a dog in the whole place didn't catch his
scent and rouse to give greeting. The stablemaster was home, and he
was greeted warmly by those who knew him best. Two stable boys soon
trailed after us, rattling off simultaneously every bit of news
concerning hawk or hound or horse, Burrich was in full command
here, nodding sagely and asking a terse question or two as he
absorbed every detail. His reserve only broke when his old bitch
hound Vixen came walking stiff to greet him. He went down on one
knee to hug and thump her and she wiggled puppyishly and tried to
lick his face. Now, here's a real dog, he greeted her. Then he
stood again, to continue his round. She followed him, hindquarters
wobbling with every wag of her tail.

I lagged behind, the warmth robbing the strength
from my limbs. One boy came hurrying back to leave a lamp with me,
and then hastened away to pay court to Burrich. I came to Sooty's
stall and unlatched the door. She entered eagerly, snorting her
appreciation. I set my light on its shelf and looked about me.
Home. This was home, more than my chamber up in the castle, more
than anywhere else in the world. A stall in Burrich's stable, safe
in his domain, one of his creatures. If only I could turn back the
days, and burrow into the deep straw and drag a horse blanket over
my head.

Sooty snorted again, this time rebukingly. She'd
carried me all those days and ways, and deserved every comfort I
could give her. But every buckle resisted my numbed and weary
fingers. I dragged the saddle down from her back and very nearly
dropped it. I fumbled at her bridle endlessly, the bright metal of
the buckles dancing before my eyes. Finally I closed them and let
my fingers work alone to take her bridle off. When I opened my
eyes, Hands was at my elbow. I nodded at him, and the bridle
dropped from my lifeless fingers. He glanced at it, but said
nothing. Instead he poured for Sooty the bucket of fresh water he
had brought, and shook out oats for her and fetched an armful of
sweet hay with much green still to it. I had taken down Sooty's
brushes when he reached past me and took them from my feeble grip.
I'll do this, he said quietly.

Take care of your own horse first, I chided
him.

I already did, Fitz. Look. You can't do a good
job on her. Let me do it. You can barely stand up. Go get some
rest. He added, almost kindly, Another time, when we ride, you can
do Stoutheart for me.

Burrich will have my hide off if I leave my
animal's care for someone else.

No, he won't. He wouldn't leave an animal in the
care of someone who can barely stand, Burrich observed from outside
the stall. Leave Sooty to Hands, boy. He knows his job. Hands, take
charge of things here for a bit. When you've done with Sooty, check
on that one spotted mare at the south end of the stables. I don't
know who owns her or where she came from, but she looks sick. If
you find it so, have the boys move her away from the other horses
and scrub out the stall with vinegar. I'll be back in a bit after I
see FitzChivalry to his quarters. I'll bring you food, and we'll
eat in my room. Oh. Tell a boy to start us a fire there. Probably
cold as a cave up there.

Hands nodded, already busy with my horse.
Sooty's nose was in her oats. Burrich took my arm. Come along, he
said, just as he spoke to a horse. I found myself unwillingly
leaning on him as we walked the long row of stalls. At the door he
picked up a lantern. The night seemed colder and darker after the
warmth of the stables. As we walked up the frozen path to the
kitchens, the snow began falling again. My mind went swirling and
drifting with the flakes. I wasn't sure where my feet were. It's
all changed, forever, now, I observed to the night. My words
whirled away with the snowflakes.

What has? Burrich asked cautiously. His tone
bespoke his worry that I might be getting feverish
again.

Everything. How you treat me. When you aren't
thinking about it. How Hands treats me. Two years ago he and I were
friends. Just two boys working in the stables. He'd never have
offered to brush down my horse for me. But tonight, he treated me
like some sickly weakling ... not even someone he can insult about
it. Like I should just expect him to do things like that for me.
The men at the gate didn't even know me. Even you, Burrich. Six
months or a year ago, if I took sick, you'd have dragged me up to
your loft and dosed me like a hound. And if I'd complained, you'd
have had no tolerance for it. Now you walk me up to the kitchen
doors and-

Stop whining, Burrich said gruffly. Stop
complaining and stop pitying yourself. If Hands looked like you do,
you'd do the same for him. Almost unwillingly he added, Things
change, because time passes. Hands hasn't stopped being your
friend. But you are not the same boy who left Buckkeep at harvest
time. That Fitz was an errand boy for Verity, and had been my
stable boy, but wasn't much more than that. A royal bastard, yes,
but that seemed of small importance to any save me. But up at
Jhaampe in the Mountain Kingdom, you showed yourself more than
that. It doesn't matter if your face is pale, or if you can barely
walk after a day in the saddle. You move as Chivalry's son should.
That is what shows in your bearing, and what those guards responded
to. And Hands. He took a breath and paused to shoulder the heavy
kitchen door open. And I, Eda help us all, he added in a
mutter.

But then, as if to belie his own words, he
steered me into the watch room off the kitchen and-unceremoniously
dumped me at one of the long benches beside the scarred wooden
table. The watch room smelled incredibly good. Here was where any
soldier, no matter how muddy or snowy or drunk, could come and find
comfort. Cook always kept a kettle of stew simmering over the fire
here, and bread and cheese waited on the table, as well as a slab
of yellow summer butter from the deep larder. Burrich served us up
bowls of hot stew thick with barley and mugs of cold ale to go with
the bread and butter and cheese.

For a moment I just looked at it, too weary to
lift a spoon. But the smell tempted me to one mouthful and that was
all it took. Midway through, I paused to shoulder out of my quilted
smock and break off another slab of bread. I looked up from my
second bowl of stew to find Burrich watching me with amusement.
Better? he asked.

I stopped to think about it. Yes. I was warm,
fed, and though I was tired, it was a good weariness, one that
might be cured by simple sleep. I lifted my hand and looked at it.
I could still feel the tremors, but they were no longer obvious to
the eye. Much better. I stood, and found my legs steady under
me.

Now you're fit to report to the King.

I stared at him in disbelief. Now? Tonight? King
Shrewd's long abed. I won't get past his door guard.

Perhaps not, and you should be grateful for
that. But you must at least announce yourself there tonight. It's
the King's decision as to when he will see you. If you're turned
away, then, you can go to bed. But I'll wager that if King Shrewd
turns you aside, King-in-Waiting Verity will still want a report.
And probably right away.

Are you going back to the stables?

Of course. He smiled in wolfish
self-satisfaction. Me, I'm just the stablemaster, Fitz. I have
nothing to report. And I promised Hands I'd bring him something to
eat.

I watched silently as he loaded a platter. He
sliced the bread lengthwise and covered two bowls of the hot stew
with a slab of it, and then loaded a wedge of cheese and a thick
slice of yellow butter onto the side of it.

What do you think of Hands?

He's a good lad, Burrich said
grudgingly.

He's more than that. You chose him to stay in
the Mountain Kingdom and ride home with us, when you sent all the
others back with the main caravan.

I needed someone steady. At that time you were
... very ill. And I wasn't much better, truth to tell. He lifted a
hand to a streak of white in his dark hair, testimony to the blow
that had nearly killed him.

How did you come to choose him?

I didn't, really. He came to me. Somehow he
found where they'd housed us, and then talked his way past Jonqui.
I was still bandaged up and scarce able to make my eyes focus. I
felt him standing there more than saw him. I asked him what he
wanted, and he told me that I needed to put someone in charge,
because with me sick and Cob gone, the stable help were getting
sloppy.

And that impressed you.

He got to the point. No idle questions about me,
or you, or what was going on. He had found the thing he could do
and come to do it. I like that in a man. Knowing what he can do,
and doing it. So I put him in charge. He managed it well. I kept
him when I sent the others home because I knew I might need a man
who could do that. And also to see for myself what he was. Was he
all ambition, or was there a genuine understanding of what a man
owes a beast when he claims to own him? Did he want power over
those under him, or the well-being of his animals?

What do you think of him now?

I am not so young as I once was. I think there
still may be a good stablemaster in Buckkeep stables when I can no
longer manage an ill-tempered stallion. Not that I expect to step
down soon. There is still much he needs to be taught. But we are
both still young enough, him to learn and me to teach. There is a
satisfaction in that.

I nodded. Once, I supposed, he had planned that
spot for me. Now we both knew it would never be.

He turned to go. Burrich, I said quietly. He
paused. No one can replace you. Thank you. For all you've done
these last few months. I owe you my life. Not just that you saved
me from death. But you gave me my life, and who I am. Ever since I
was six. Chivalry was my father, I know. But I never met him.
You've fathered me day in and day out, over a lot of years. I
didn't always appreciate-

Burrich snorted and opened the door. Save
speeches like that for when one of us is dying. Go report, and then
go to bed.

Yes, sir, I heard myself say, and knew that he
smiled even as I did. He shouldered the door open and bore Hands's
dinner out to the stables for him. He was home there.

And this, here, was my home. Time I dealt with
that. I took a moment to straighten my damp clothing and run a hand
through my hair. I cleared our dishes from the table and then
folded my wet smock over my arm.