Royal Assassin (85 page)

His laughter was not a wholly reassuring sound as it followed me down the stairs.

P
RINCE REGAL WAS
the only child of King Shrewd and Queen Desire to survive birth. Some say the midwives never cared for the Queen and did not do overmuch to see her babes lived. Others that the midwives, in their anxiety to spare the Queen her birth pangs, gave her too much of those herbs that dull pain. But as only two of her stillborn children had been carried more than seven months in her womb, most midwives say the Queen’s use of intoxicants was at fault, as well as her evil habit of carrying her belt knife with the blade toward her belly, as all know this is bad luck for a woman of childbearing years
.

I did not sleep. Whenever I pushed my worries about King Shrewd from my mind, Molly stood there instead, beside someone else. My mind shuttled between them, weaving me a coat of misery and worry. I promised myself that as soon as King Shrewd and Kettricken were safe, I would find a way to win Molly back from whoever had stolen her from me. That decided, I turned over and stared into the dark some more.

Night’s reign was still solid when I rolled from my bed. I ghosted past empty stalls and sleeping animals to go silently up
Burrich’s stairs. He heard me out, then asked gently, “Are you sure you’ve not had a bad dream?”

“If I have, it’s lasted most of my life,” I pointed out quietly.

“I begin to feel that way myself,” he agreed. We were talking in the dark. He was still in bed and I was sitting on the floor beside it, whispering. I would not suffer Burrich to build up his fire, or even light a candle, for I did not desire anyone to wonder about a sudden departure from his routine. “For us to accomplish all he is asking in two days means that every task must be done perfectly the first time. I have come to you first. Can you do it?”

He was silent and in the darkness I could not see his face. “Three sturdy horses, a mule, a litter, and supplies for three. All without anyone noticing it.” Another silence. “I can’t very well just load up the King and Queen and ride out through the gates of Buckkeep, either.”

“You know that copse of alder where the big dog fox used to den? Have the horses waiting there. The King and Kettricken will meet you there.” Reluctantly I added, “The wolf will guide them to you.”

“Must they know, as well as I, what you do?” He was aghast at the thought.

“I use what tools I have. And I do not perceive it as you do.”

“How long can you share minds with one who scratches and licks himself, who will roll in carrion, who goes mad when a female is in season, who thinks no further than his next meal, before you accept his values as your own? Then what will you be?”

“A guardsman?” I hazarded.

Despite himself, Burrich gave a snort of laughter. “I was serious,” he said after a moment.

“So am I, about the King and Queen. We must put our minds to how we will accomplish this. I no longer care what I sacrifice to accomplish it.”

He was quiet a moment. “So somehow I’m to get four animals and a litter out of Buckkeep without exciting any interest?”

I nodded in the dark, then: “Can it be done?”

Grudgingly he said, “There’s a stable hand or two left that I trust. It’s not a favor I like to ask of anyone. I don’t want a lad swinging over something I asked him to do. But I suppose it could be made to look as if they were part of a coffle being taken upriver. But my lads are not stupid; I won’t have a stupid hand in the stable. Once the news is out that the King is missing, they’ll figure it out quickly.”

“Choose one who loves the King.”

Burrich sighed. “Food supplies. It won’t be sumptuous rations. More like marching fare. Am I to supply winter clothing as well?”

“No. Only for yourself. Kettricken can wear and carry what she’ll need. And Chade can see to the King’s needs.”

“Chade. The name is almost familiar, as if I heard it before, long ago.”

“He is supposed to have died, long ago. Before that, he was seen about the Keep.”

“To live all these years as a shadow.” He marveled.

“And he plans to go on living as a shadow.”

“You need not fear I’ll betray him.” Burrich sounded hurt.

“I know. I am just so—”

“I know. Go on, then. You’ve told me enough for me to do my part. I’ll be there with the horses and supplies. What time?”

“Sometime in the night, when the feasting is still lively. I don’t know. I’ll get word to you somehow.”

He shrugged. “As soon as it gets dark, I’ll go out there and wait.”

“Burrich. Thank you.”

“He is my king. She is my queen. I need no thanks from you to do my duty.”

I left Burrich to creep down his staircase. I kept to the shadows and extended every sense I had to try to be sure no one was spying on me. Once I was clear of the stables, I flitted from warehouse to sty to pen, from shadow to shadow until I came to the old hut. Nighteyes came panting to meet me.
What is it? Why am I called back from my hunting?

Tomorrow night, when it gets dark. I may need you. Will you stay here, within the Keep, to come quickly if I send for you?

Of course. But why summon me here for this? You need not be this close to me to ask such a simple favor
.

I crouched down in the snow and he came to me, to rest his throat on my shoulder. I hugged him hard.

Foolishness
, he told me gruffly.
Go on, now. I will be here in case you need me
.

My thanks
.

My brother
.

Stealth and haste battled as I made my way back to the Keep and up to my room. I fastened my door shut and lay down on my bed. Excitement thundered through me. I would know no real rest until all had been accomplished.

At midmorning I was admitted to the Queen’s chamber. I brought with me a number of scrolls on herbs. Kettricken was reclining on a couch before the hearth, playing the part of both bereaved wife and anxious mother-to-be. I could see that it wore on her, and that her fall had caused her more pain in truth than she cared to admit. She looked little better than she had the night before, but I greeted her warmly and proceeded to work my way through every herb listed, one after the other, with much discussion as to the benefits of each. I succeeded in boring most of her ladies away, and she finally dismissed the last three to bring tea, find her more pillows, and look for another scroll on herbs that Kettricken said was in Verity’s study. Little Rosemary had long since dozed off in a warm corner by the hearth. As soon as the rustle of their skirts had faded, I spoke quickly, knowing I had little time.

“You will be leaving tomorrow night, after the King-in-Waiting ceremony,” I told her, and spoke on although she had parted her lips to ask a question. “Dress warmly and take winter things. Not many. Go to your bedchamber alone, as early as you decently can. Plead that the ceremony and your grief have exhausted you. Send your attendants away, say you must sleep, and tell them not to come back until you summon them. Bar your door. No. Only listen. There is little time. Ready yourself to leave, and then stay in your room. One will
come for you. Trust the Pocked Man. The King is going with you. Trust me,” I told her desperately as we heard returning footsteps. “All else will be arranged. Trust me.”

Trust. I did not trust that any of it would come to pass. Daffodil was back with the pillows, and shortly after that, the tea arrived. We chatted amiably, and one of Kettricken’s younger ladies even flirted with me. Queen Kettricken asked me to leave the herbal scrolls with her, as her back still pained her. She had decided she would retire early this evening, and perhaps the scrolls would help her while away the time before she slept. I made my gracious farewells and escaped.

Chade had said he would handle the Fool. I had made my pathetic attempts at planning the escape. Now all that remained was for me somehow to arrange for the King to be alone after the ceremony. A few minutes were all Chade had asked for. I wondered if I would have to give my life for them. I put the notion aside. Just a few minutes. The two broken doors would be a hindrance or a help. I wasn’t sure which. I considered all the obvious ploys. I could feign drunkenness and bait the guards out to fight. Unless I had an ax, it wouldn’t take them more than a few minutes to deal with me. Plain fisticuffs had never worked very well for me. No. I wanted to remain functional. I considered and rejected a dozen schemes. Too much depended on factors I couldn’t control. How many guards would be there, would they be ones I knew, would Wallace be there, would Regal have dropped by for a chat?

On my earlier foray to Kettricken’s room, I had noticed that makeshift curtains had been tacked up over the splintered door frames of the King’s chambers. Most of the wreckage had been carried off, but bits of oaken door still littered the corridor. No workmen had been called in to do repairs. Another sign that Regal had no intention of ever returning to Buckkeep.

I tried to find some excuse to introduce myself into that room. The Keep downstairs was busier than ever, for today the Dukes of Bearns, Rippon, and Shoaks Duchies were expected to arrive with their retinues to witness the King-in-Waiting ceremony for Regal. They were being put in the lesser guest rooms, across the Keep. I wondered how they would react to the sudden disappearance of the King and Queen. Would it be
seen as treachery, or would Regal find some way to conceal it from them? What would it auger for his new reign to begin so? I put it from my mind; it wasn’t helping me get the King alone in his chamber.

I left my room and went pacing through Buckkeep, hoping for inspiration. Instead I found only confusion. Noble folk of every degree were arriving for Regal’s ceremony, and the influx of guests and their households and servants swept and eddied about the outflow of goods and folk that Regal was sending inland. My feet carried me unplanned to Verity’s study. The door was ajar and I went in. The hearth was cold, the room musty with disuse. There was a distinct odor of mouse in the air. I hoped whatever scrolls they were nesting in weren’t irreplaceable. I was fairly certain I had removed the ones Verity treasured to Chade’s rooms. I walked about the room, touching his things. I suddenly missed him acutely. His unyielding steadiness, his calmness, his strength; he would never have let things come to such a situation. I sat down in his work chair at his map table. Scuffs and scribbles of ink where he had tried colors on it marred the tabletop. Here were two badly cut quills, discarded with a brush worn hairless. In a box on the table were several little pots of color, cracked and dried now. They smelled like Verity to me, in the same way that leather and harness oil always smelled like Burrich. I leaned forward on the table and put my head in my hands. “Verity, we need you now.”

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.