Assassin's Quest (UK)

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Assassin's Quest (UK) Page 24

by Robin Hobb


  Un­like tra­di­tional co­ter­ies that se­lec­ted their own mem­ber­ship and leader, Ga­len cre­ated his from hand-picked stu­dents and dur­ing his life re­tained a tre­mend­ous amount of con­trol over them. Au­gust, the nom­inal head of the co­terie, had his tal­ent blas­ted from him in a Skill mis­hap while on a mis­sion to the Moun­tain King­dom. Se­rene, who next as­sumed lead­er­ship fol­low­ing Ga­len’s death, per­ished along with an­other mem­ber, Justin, dur­ing the riot that fol­lowed the dis­cov­ery of King Shrewd’s murder. Will was next to as­sume the lead­er­ship of what has come to be known as Ga­len’s Co­terie. At that time but three mem­bers re­mained: Will him­self, Burl and Car­rod. It seems likely that Ga­len had im­prin­ted all three with an un­swerving loy­alty to Regal, but this did not pre­vent rivalry among them for Regal’s fa­vour.

  By the time dusk fell, I had ex­plored the outer grounds of the royal es­tate rather thor­oughly. I had dis­covered that any­one might stroll the lower walks freely, en­joy­ing the foun­tains and gar­dens, the yew hedges and the chest­nut trees, and there were a num­ber of folk in fine clothes do­ing just that. Most looked at me with stern dis­ap­proval, a few with pity and the one liv­er­ied guard I en­countered re­minded me firmly that no beg­ging was al­lowed within the King’s Gar­dens. I as­sured him that I had come only to see the won­ders I had so of­ten heard of in tales. In turn, he sug­ges­ted that tales of the gar­dens were more than suf­fi­cient for my ilk, and poin­ted out to me the most dir­ect path for leav­ing the gar­dens. I thanked him most humbly and walked off. He stood watch­ing me leave un­til the path car­ried me around the end of a hedge and out of his sight.

  My next foray was more dis­creet. I had briefly con­sidered way-lay­ing one of the young nobles strolling amongst the flowers and herb­aceous bor­ders and avail­ing my­self of his clothes, but had de­cided against it. I was un­likely to find one lean enough for his clothes to fit me prop­erly, and the fash­ion­able ap­parel they were wear­ing seemed to re­quire a lot of la­cing up with gaily-col­oured rib­bons. I doubted I could get my­self into any of the shirts without the as­sist­ance of a valet, let alone get an un­con­scious man out of one. The tink­ling sil­ver charms stitched onto the dangling lace at the cuffs were not con­du­cive to an as­sas­sin’s quiet work any­way. In­stead, I re­lied on the thick plant­ings along the low walls for shel­ter and made my way gradu­ally up the hill.

  Even­tu­ally I en­countered a wall of smooth, worked stone that en­circled the crown of the hill. It was only slightly higher than a tall man could reach at a jump. I did not think it had been in­ten­ded as a ser­i­ous bar­rier. There were no plant­ings along it, but stubs of old trunks and roots showed that once it had been graced with vines and bushes. I wondered if Regal had ordered it cleared. Over the wall I could see the tops of nu­mer­ous trees, and so dared to count on their shel­ter.

  It took me most of the af­ter­noon to make a full cir­cuit of the wall without com­ing out into the open. There were sev­eral gates in it. One fine main one had guards in liv­ery greet­ing car­riages of folk as they came and went. From the num­ber of car­riages ar­riv­ing some sort of fest­iv­ity was sched­uled for the even­ing. One guard turned, and laughed harshly. The hair stood up on my neck. For a time I stood frozen, star­ing from my place of con­ceal­ment. Had I seen his face be­fore? It was dif­fi­cult to tell at my dis­tance, but the thought roused a strange mix­ture of fear and an­ger in me. Regal, I re­minded my­self. Regal was my tar­get. I moved on.

  Sev­eral lesser gates for de­liv­ery folk and ser­vants had guards lack­ing in lace, but mak­ing up for it in their mil­it­ant ques­tion­ing of every man or wo­man who went in and out. If my clothes had been bet­ter I would have risked im­per­son­at­ing a serving-man but I dared not at­tempt it in my beg­gar’s rags. In­stead, I po­si­tioned my­self out of sight of the guards on the gate and began to beg of the trade­folk com­ing and go­ing. I did so mutely, simply ap­proach­ing them with cupped hands and a plead­ing ex­pres­sion. Most of them did what folk do when con­fron­ted with a beg­gar. They ig­nored me and con­tin­ued their con­ver­sa­tions. And so I learned that to­night was the night of the Scar­let Ball, that ex­tra ser­vants, mu­si­cians and con­jur­ers had been brought in for the fest­iv­ity, that merry­bud had re­placed mirth­weed as the King’s fa­vour­ite smoke, and that the King had been very angry with the qual­ity of the yel­low silk one Festro had brought him, and had threatened to flog the mer­chant for even bring­ing him such poor stuff. The ball was also a farewell to the King, be­fore he em­barked on the mor­row for a trip to visit his dear friend Lady Ce­lestra at Am­ber Hall on the Vin River. I heard a great deal more, be­sides, but little that re­lated to my pur­pose. I ended up with a hand­ful of cop­pers for my time as well.

  I re­turned to Trade­ford. I found a whole street de­voted to the tail­or­ing of clothes. At the back door of Festro’s shop, I found an ap­pren­tice sweep­ing out. I gave him sev­eral cop­pers for some scraps of yel­low silk in vari­ous shades. I then sought out the humblest shop on the street, where every coin I pos­sessed was just suf­fi­cient to pur­chase loose trousers, a smock and a head ker­chief such as the ap­pren­tice had been wear­ing. I changed my clothes in the shop, braided my war­rior’s tail up and con­cealed it un­der the ker­chief, donned my boots and emerged from the shop a dif­fer­ent per­son. My sword now hung down my leg in­side the trousers. It was un­com­fort­able, but not overly no­tice­able if I af­fec­ted a lop­ing stride. I left my worn clothes and the rest of my bundle, save for my pois­ons and other per­tin­ent tools, in a patch of nettles be­hind a very smelly back­house in a tav­ern yard. I made my way back to Trade­ford’s keep.

  I did not per­mit my­self to hes­it­ate. I went dir­ec­tly to the trade­folks’ gate and stood in line with the oth­ers seek­ing ad­mit­tance. My heart hammered in­side my ribs but I af­fec­ted a calm de­mean­our. I spent my time study­ing what I could see of the house through the trees. It was im­mense. Earlier I had been amazed that so much ar­able land had been given over to dec­or­at­ive gar­dens and walks. Now I saw that the gar­dens were simply the set­ting for a dwell­ing that both sprawled and towered in a style of house com­pletely for­eign to me. Noth­ing about it spoke of fort­ress or castle; all was com­fort and el­eg­ance. When it came my turn, I showed my swatches of silk and said I came bear­ing Festro’s apo­lo­gies and some samples that he hoped would be more to the King’s lik­ing. When one surly guard poin­ted out that Festro usu­ally came him­self, I replied, some­what sulkily, that my mas­ter thought stripes would bet­ter be­come my back than his, if the samples did not please the King. The guards ex­changed grins and ad­mit­ted me.

  I hastened up the path un­til I was on the heels of a group of mu­si­cians who had come in be­fore me. I fol­lowed them around to the back of the man­or­house. I knelt to re­fasten my boot as they asked dir­ec­tions and then straightened up just in time to fol­low them in­side. I found my­self in a small entry hall, cool and al­most dark after the heat and light of the af­ter­noon sun. I trailed them down a cor­ridor. The min­strels talked and laughed among them­selves as they hastened on. I slowed my steps and dropped back. When I passed a door that was ajar on an empty room, I stepped into it and shut the door quietly be­hind me. I drew a deep breath and looked around.

  I was in a small sit­ting room. The fur­niture was shabby and ill-matched, so I sur­mised it was for ser­vants or vis­it­ing crafts­men. I could not count on be­ing alone there for long. There were, how­ever, sev­eral large cup­boards along the wall. I chose one that was not in dir­ect view of the door should it open sud­denly, and quickly re­ar­ranged its con­tents in or­der to sit in­side it. I en­sconced my­self with the door slightly ajar for some light and went to work. I in­spec­ted and or­gan­ized my vi­als and pack­ets of pois­ons. I treated both my belt knife and m
y sword’s edge with poison, then resheathed them care­fully. I ar­ranged my sword to hang out­side my trousers. Then I made my­self com­fort­able and settled down to wait.

  Days seemed to pass be­fore dusk gave way to full dark. Twice folk briefly entered the room, but from their gos­sip I gathered that every ser­vant was busy pre­par­ing for the gath­er­ing to­night. I passed the time by ima­gin­ing how Regal would kill me if he caught me. Sev­eral times I al­most lost my cour­age. Each time I re­minded my­self that if I walked away from this, I would have to live with the fear forever. In­stead, I tried to pre­pare my­self. If Regal were here, then his co­terie would surely be close by. I put my­self care­fully through the ex­er­cises Ver­ity had taught me to shield my mind from other Skilled ones. I was hor­ribly temp­ted to ven­ture out with a tiny touch of the Skill, to see if I could sense them. I re­frained. I doubted I could sense them without be­tray­ing my­self. And even if I could so de­tect them, what would it tell me that I did not already know? Bet­ter to con­cen­trate on guard­ing my­self from them. I re­fused to al­low my­self to think spe­cific­ally of what I would do, lest they pick up traces of my thoughts. When fi­nally the sky out­side the win­dow was full black and pricked with stars, I slipped out from my hid­ing place and ven­tured out into the hall­way.

  Mu­sic drif­ted on the night. Regal and his guests were at their fest­iv­it­ies. I listened for a mo­ment to the faint notes of a fa­mil­iar song about two sis­ters, one of whom drowned the other. To me, the won­der of the song was not a harp that would play by it­self, but a min­strel who would find a wo­man’s body, and be in­spired to make a harp of her breast­bone. Then I put it out of my mind and con­cen­trated on busi­ness.

  I was in a simple cor­ridor, stone-floored and pan­elled with wood, lit with torches set at wide in­ter­vals. Ser­vants’ area, I sur­mised; it was not fine enough for Regal or his friends. That did not make it safe for me, how­ever. I needed to find a ser­vants’ stair and get my­self to the second floor. I crept along the hall. I went from door to door, paus­ing to listen out­side each one. Twice I heard folk within, wo­men talk­ing to­gether in one, the clack of a weav­ing frame be­ing used in an­other. The quiet doors that were not locked, I opened briefly. They were work­rooms for the most part, with sev­eral given over to weav­ing and sew­ing. In one, a suit of fine blue fab­ric was pieced out on a table, ready for sew­ing. Regal ap­par­ently still in­dulged his fond­ness for fine cloth­ing.

  I came to the end of the cor­ridor and peered around the corner. An­other hall­way, much finer and wider. The plastered ceil­ing over­head had been im­prin­ted with fern shapes. Again I crept down a cor­ridor, listen­ing out­side doors, cau­tiously peep­ing into some of them. Get­ting closer, I told my­self. I found a lib­rary, with more vel­lum books and scrolls than I had ever known ex­is­ted. I paused in one room where brightly-plumed birds in ex­tra­vag­ant cages dozed on their perches. Slabs of white marble had been set to hold ponds of dart­ing fishes and wa­ter lilies. There were benches and cush­ioned chairs set about gam­ing tables there. Small cherry­wood tables scattered about held Smoke censers. I had never even ima­gined such a room.

  I even­tu­ally came to a proper hall with framed por­traits along the walls and a floor of gleam­ing black slate. I drew back when I spot­ted the guard and stood si­lent in an al­cove un­til his bored pa­cing car­ried him past me. Then I slipped out to flit past all those moun­ted nobles and sim­per­ing ladies in their sump­tu­ous frames.

  I blundered out into an ante­cham­ber. There were hangings on the wall and small tables sup­port­ing statu­ary and vases of flowers. Even the torch sconces here were more or­nate. There were small por­traits in gilt frames to either side of a fire­place with an elab­or­ate man­tel. Chairs were set close to­gether for in­tim­ate talk. The mu­sic was louder here, and I could hear laughter and voices as well. Des­pite the late­ness of the hour, the mer­ri­ment went on. On the op­pos­ite wall were two tall carved doors. They led to the gath­er­ing hall where Regal and his nobles danced and laughed. I pulled my­self back around the corner as I saw two ser­vants in liv­ery enter from a door to my far left. They bore trays car­ry­ing an as­sort­ment of in­cense pots. I sur­mised they were to re­place ones that had burned out. I stood frozen, listen­ing to their foot­steps and con­ver­sa­tion. They opened the tall doors and the mu­sic of harps spilled out more loudly and the nar­cotic scent of Smoke. Both were quenched by the clos­ing doors. I ven­tured to peep out again. All was clear be­fore me, but be­hind me –

  ‘What do you here?’

  My heart fell into my boots, but I forced a sheep­ish smile to my face as I turned to face the guard who had entered the room be­hind me. ‘Sir, I’ve lost my way in this great maze of a house,’ I said guile­lessly.

  ‘Have you? That doesn’t ex­plain why you wear a sword within the King’s walls. All know weapons are for­bid­den save to the King’s own guard. I saw you sneak­ing about just then. Did you think with the mer­ry­mak­ing go­ing on, you could just slip about and fill your pock­ets with whatever you found, thief?’

  I stood frozen with ter­ror, watch­ing the man ap­proach me. I am sure he be­lieved he had dis­covered my pur­pose from the stricken look on my face. Verde would never have smiled so if he thought he ad­vanced on a man he had helped beat to death in a dun­geon. His hand res­ted care­lessly on the hilt of his own blade and he grinned con­fid­ently. He was a hand­some man, very tall and fair as many of the Far­row folk were. The badge he wore was Moun­t­well of Far­row’s golden oak, with the Farseer buck over­leap­ing it. So Regal had mod­i­fied his coat of arms as well. I but wished he’d left the buck off it.

  A part of me no­ticed all these things as an­other part re­lived the night­mare of be­ing dragged to my feet by my shirt front and stood up, so that this man could strike me and drive me once more to the floor. He was not Bolt, the one who had broken my nose. No, Verde had fol­lowed him, beat­ing me in­sens­ible a second time, after Bolt had left me too battered to stand on my own. He had towered over me then and I had cowered and flinched away from him, tried vainly to scrabble away from him over the cold stone floor that was already spattered with my blood. I re­membered the oaths he had laugh­ingly uttered each time he had had to haul me to my feet so he could hit me again. ‘By Eda’s tits,’ I muttered to my­self, and with the words, fear died in me.

  ‘Let’s see what you have in that pouch,’ he de­man­ded, and came closer.

  I could not show him the pois­ons in my pouch. No way to ex­plain those away. No amount of smooth ly­ing would let me es­cape this man. I would have to kill him.

  Sud­denly it was all so simple.

  We were much too close to the gath­er­ing hall. I wished no sound to alarm or alert any­one. So I re­treated from him, a slow step at a time, back­ing in a wide circle that took me into the cham­ber I had just left. The por­traits looked down at us as I backed hes­it­antly away from the tall guards­man.

  ‘Stand still!’ he ordered, but I shook my head wildly in what I hoped was a con­vin­cing dis­play of ter­ror. ‘I said, stand still, you scrawny little thief!’ I glanced quickly over my shoulder, then back at him, des­per­ate, as if I were try­ing to find the cour­age to turn and run from him. The third time I did so, he leaped for me.

  I’d been hop­ing for that.

  I sidestepped him and then drove my el­bow sav­agely into the small of his back, adding just enough mo­mentum to his charge that he went to his knees. I heard them smack bonily against the stone floor. He gave a word­less roar of both an­ger and pain. I could see how sud­denly furi­ous it made him for the scrawny thief to dare strike him. I si­lenced him sharply when I kicked him un­der the chin, clack­ing his mouth shut. I was grate­ful that I’d switched back to my boots. Be­fore he could make an­other sound I had my knife out and across his throat. He gurgled his amazement and lif­ted both hands in
a vain at­tempt to con­tain that warm gush­ing of blood. I stood over him, look­ing down into his eyes. ‘FitzChiv­alry,’ I told him quietly. ‘FitzChiv­alry.’ His eyes widened in sud­den un­der­stand­ing and ter­ror, then lost all ex­pres­sion as life left him. Ab­ruptly he was still­ness and noth­ing­ness, as devoid of life as a stone. To my Wit sense, he had dis­ap­peared.

  So quickly it was done. Ven­geance. I stood look­ing down at him, wait­ing to feel tri­umph or re­lief, or sat­is­fac­tion. In­stead I felt noth­ing, felt as lost to all life as he was. He was not even meat I could eat. I wondered be­latedly if there was some­where a wo­man who had loved this hand­some man, blonde chil­dren who de­pen­ded on his wages for food. It is not good for an as­sas­sin to have such thoughts; they had never plagued me when I had car­ried out the King’s Justice for King Shrewd. I shook them from my head.

 

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