Assassin 3 - Royal Assassin (9 page)

I could not, I muttered, unable to mask how
distasteful I would find the drawing off of another man's strength
to replace my own. I instantly regretted the moment of shame I saw
in my prince's eyes.

I, too, could once speak with such pride, he
said quietly. Go get some rest, boy. He turned slowly aside from
me. He busied himself setting out his inks and his vellum once
more. I left quietly.

We had been closeted for the whole day. Outside,
it was full dark. The castle had the settled air of a winter's
evening. The tables cleared, the folk would be gathered about the
hearths in the Great Hall. Minstrels might be singing, or a
puppeteer moving his gangly charges through a story. Some folk
would watch while fletching arrows, some would be plying needles,
children would be spinning tops or matching markers or drowsing
against their parents' knees or shoulders. All was secure. Outside,
the winter storms blew and kept us safe.

I walked with a drunkard's caution, avoiding the
common areas where folk had gathered for the evening. I folded my
arms and hunched my shoulders as if chilled, and so stilled the
trembling in my arms. I climbed the first flight of stairs slowly,
as if lost in thought. On the landing I permitted myself to pause
for a count of ten, then forced myself to begin the next
flight.

But as I set my foot to the first step, Lacey
came bounding down. A plump woman more than a score of years older
than myself, she still moved down the steps with a child's skipping
gait. As she reached the bottom she seized me with a cry of There
you are! as if I were a pair of shears she'd misplaced from her
sewing basket. She clutched my arm firmly and turned me toward the
hall. I've been up and down those stairs a dozen times today if
I've been once. My, you've gotten taller. Lady Patience has not
been at all herself and it's your fault. At first she expected you
to tap on the door any moment. She was so pleased you were finally
home. She paused to look up at me with her bright bird eyes. That
was this morning, she confided. Then: You have been ill! Such
circles under your eyes.

Without giving me a chance to reply, she went
on, By early afternoon, when you hadn't arrived, she began to be
insulted and a bit cross. By dinner she was in such a temper over
your rudeness she could scarcely eat. Since then, she's decided to
believe the rumors about how sick you've been. She's sure that
you've either collapsed somewhere, or that Burrich has kept you
down in the stables cleaning up after horses and dogs despite your
health. Now, here we are, in you go, I have him, my lady. And she
whisked me into Patience's chambers.

Lacey's chatter had an odd undertone to it, as
if she avoided something. I entered hesitantly, wondering if
Patience herself had been ill or if some misfortune had befallen
her. If either were so, then it hadn't affected her living habits
at all. Her chambers were much as they always were. All her
greenery had grown and twined and dropped leaves. A new layer of
sudden interests overlay all the discarded ones in the room. Two
doves had been added to her menagerie. A dozen or so horseshoes
were scattered about the room. A fat bayberry candle burned on the
table, giving off a pleasant scent, but dripping wax onto some
dried flowers and herbs on a tray beside it. Some oddly carved
little sticks in a bundle were also threatened. They appeared to be
fortune-telling sticks such as the Chyurda used. As I entered, her
tough little terrier bitch came up to greet me. I stooped to pat
her, then wondered if I could stand again. To cover my delay, I
carefully picked up a tablet from the floor. It was a rather old
one, and probably rare, on the use of the fortune-telling sticks.
Patience turned away from her loom to greet me.

Oh, get up and stop being ridiculous, she
exclaimed at seeing me crouch. Going down on one knee is idiocy. Or
did you think it would make me forget how rude you've been in not
coming to see me right away. What's that you've brought me? Oh, how
thoughtful! How did you know I'd been studying them? You know, I've
searched all the castle's libraries and not found much on the
predicting sticks at all!

She took the tablet from my hand and smiled up
at me at the supposed gift. Over her shoulder, Lacey winked at me.
I gave a minuscule shrug in return. I glanced back at Lady
Patience, who set the tablet atop a teetering stack of tablets. She
turned back to me. For a moment she regarded me warmly, then she
called up a frown to her face. Her brows gathered over her hazel
eyes, while her small straight mouth held a firm line. The effect
of her reproving look was rather spoiled by the fact that she came
just to my shoulder now, and that she had two ivy leaves stuck in
her hair. Excuse me, I said, and boldly plucked them from the
unruly dark curls. She took them from my hand seriously, as if they
were important, and set them atop the tablet.

Where have you been, all these months, when you
were needed here? she demanded. Your uncle's bride arrived months
ago. You've missed the formal wedding, you've missed the feasting
and the dancing and the gathering of the nobles. Here I am,
expending all my energies to see that you are treated as the son of
a Prince, and there you are, avoiding all your social obligations.
And when you do get home, you don't come to see me, but go all
about the Keep where anyone else might talk to you, dressed like a
ragged tinker. Whatever possessed you to cut your hair like that?
My father's wife, once horrified to discover that he had sired a
bastard before they were wed, had gone from abhorring me to
aggressively bettering me. Sometimes that was more difficult to
deal with than if she had ostracized me. Now she demanded, Had you
no thought that you might have social duties here that were more
important than gallivanting about with Burrich looking at
horses?

I am sorry, my lady. Experience had taught me
never to argue with Patience. Her eccentricity had delighted Prince
Chivalry. It drove me to distraction on a good day. Tonight I felt
overwhelmed by it. For a time I was ill. I did not feel well enough
to travel. By the time I recovered, the weather delayed us. I am
sorry to have missed the wedding.

And that was all? That was the sole reason for
your delay? She spoke sharply, as if suspecting some heinous
deception.

It was, I answered gravely. But I did think of
you. I have something for you, out in my packs. I haven't brought
them up from the stable yet, but I will tomorrow.

What is it? she demanded, curious as a
child.

I took a deep breath. I desperately wished for
my bed. It's a sort of an herbal. A simple one, for they are
delicate, and the more ornate ones would not have stood up to the
trip. The Chyurda don't use tablets or scrolls for teaching herbs,
as we do. Instead, this is a wooden case. When you open it, you
will discover tiny wax models of the herbs, tinted to the correct
colors and scented with each herb to make it easier to learn them.
The lettering is in Chyurda, of course, but I still thought you
would enjoy it.

It sounds quite interesting, she said, and her
eyes shone. I look forward to seeing it.

Shall I bring him a chair, my lady? He does look
as if he has been ill, Lacey interjected.

Oh, of course, Lacey. Sit down, boy. Tell me,
what was your illness? .

I ate something, one of the foreign herbs, and
had a strong reaction to it. There. That was truthful. Lacey
brought me a small stool and I sat gratefully. A wave of weariness
passed through me.

Oh. I see. She dismissed my illness. She took a
breath, glanced about, then suddenly demanded, Tell me. Have you
ever considered marriage?

The abrupt change in subject was so like
Patience that I had to smile. I tried to put my mind to the
question. For a moment I saw Molly, her cheeks reddened with the
wind that teased her dark hair loose. Molly. Tomorrow, I promised
myself. Siltbay.

Fitz! Stop that! I won't have you staring
through me as if I were not here. Do you hear me? Are you
well?

With an effort I called myself back. Not really,
I answered honestly. It's been a tiring day for me ....

Lacey, fetch the boy a cup of elderberry wine.
He does look worn. Maybe this isn't the best time for talk, Lady
Patience decided falteringly. For the first time she really looked
at me. Genuine concern grew in her eyes. Perhaps, she suggested
softly, after a moment, I do not know the full tale of your
adventures.

I looked down at my padded mountain buskins. The
truth hovered inside me, then fell and was drowned in the danger of
her knowing all that truth. A long journey. Bad food. Dirty inns
with sour beds and sticky tables. That sums it up. I don't think
you really want to hear all the details.

An odd thing happened. Our eyes met, and I knew
she saw my lie. She nodded slowly, accepting the lie as necessary,
and looked aside. I wondered how many times my father had told her
similar lies. What did it cost her to nod?

Lacey put the cup of wine into my hand firmly. I
lifted it, and the sweet sting of the first sip revived me. I held
it in both hands and managed to smile at Patience over it. Tell me,
I began, and despite myself, my voice quavered like an old man's. I
cleared my throat to steady it. How have you been? I imagine that
having a Queen here at Buckkeep has made your life much busier.
Tell me of all I have missed.

Oh, she said, as if pricked with a pin. Now it
was Patience's turn to look aside. You know what a solitary
creature I am. My health is not always strong. To stay up late,
dancing and talking, leaves me abed for two days afterward. No. I
have presented myself to the Queen and sat at table with her a time
or two. But she is young and busy and caught up in her new life.
And I am old and odd, and my life is full of my own interests
....

Kettricken shares your love of growing things, I
ventured. She would probably be most interested- A sudden tremor
rattled my bones and my teeth chattered to stillness. `.`I am just
... a bit cold. I excused myself and lifted my wine cup again. I
took a gulp instead of the sip I had intended. My hands shook and
wine sloshed over my chin and down my shirtfront. I jumped up in
dismay and my traitorous hands let go the cup. It struck the carpet
and rolled away, leaving a trail of dark wine like blood. I sat
down again abruptly and clasped my arms around myself to try to
still my shaking. I am very tired, I attempted.

Lacey came at me with a cloth and dabbed at me
until I took it from her. I wiped my chin and blotted most of the
wine from my shirt. But when I crouched down to mop up what had
spilled, I almost pitched forward onto my face.

No, Fitz, forget the wine. We can tidy up. You
are tired, and half-sick. Just take yourself up to bed. Come and
see me when you've rested. I've something serious to discuss with
you, but it will keep another night. Now off you go, boy. Off to
bed.

I stood, grateful for the reprieve, and made my
cautious courtesies. Lacey saw me as far as the door, and then
stood watching after me anxiously as far as the landing. I tried to
walk as if the walls and floors weren't wavering. I paused at the
stairs to give her a small wave, and then started up them. Three
steps up and out of her sight, I stopped to lean on the wall and
catch my breath. I lifted my hands to shield my eyes from the
brilliant candlelight. Dizziness was washing over me in waves. When
I opened my eyes, my vision was wreathed in rainbow fogs. I closed
them tight and pressed my hands to them.

I heard a light step coming down the stairs
toward me. It paused two steps above me. Are you all right, sir?
someone asked uncertainly.

A bit too much to drink, I lied. Certainly the
wine I had dumped over myself made me smell like a drunk. I'll be
fine in a moment.

Let me help you up the stairs. A stumble here
might be dangerous. There was starched disapproval in the voice
now. I opened my eyes and peered through my fingers. Blue skirts.
Of the sensible fabric that all the servants wore. No doubt she'd
had to deal with drunks before.

I shook my head, but she ignored that, just as I
would have in her position. I felt a strong hand grip my upper arm
firmly, while her other arm encircled my waist. Let's just get you
up the stairs, she encouraged me. I leaned on her, not wanting to,
and stumbled up to the next landing.

Thank you, I muttered, thinking she would leave
me now, but she kept her grip.

Are you sure you belong on this level? The
servants' quarters are the next flight up, you know.

I managed a nod. Third door. If you don't
mind.

She was silent for longer than a moment. That's
the Bastard's room. The words were flung like a cold
challenge.

I did not flinch to the words as I would have
once. I did not even lift my head. Yes. You may go now. I dismissed
her as coldly.

Instead she stepped closer. She seized my hair,
jerked my head up to face her. Newboy! she hissed in fury. I should
drop you right here.

I jerked my head up. I could not make my eyes
focus on her eyes, but all the same, I knew her, knew the shape of
her face and how her hair fell forward on her shoulders, and her
scent, like a summer afternoon. Relief crashed over me like a wave.
It was Molly, my Molly the candlemaker. You're alive! I cried out.
My heart leaped in me like a hooked fish. I took her in my arms and
kissed her.