Assassin's Quest (UK)

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Assassin's Quest (UK) Page 76

by Robin Hobb


  Odd thoughts popped into my head all day. I could not see a flower bud without won­der­ing if Molly would have used it for scent or col­our in her work. I found my­self won­der­ing if Burrich was as good with a wood axe as he was with a battle axe, and if it would be enough to save them. If Regal knew of them, he would send sol­diers after them. Could he know of them without know­ing ex­actly where they were?

  ‘Stop that!’ Kettle rep­rim­an­ded me sharply, with a light rap of her walk­ing stick. I jol­ted back to full aware­ness. The Fool glanced over at us curi­ously.

  ‘Stop what?’ I de­man­ded.

  ‘Think­ing those thoughts. You know what I mean. Were you think­ing of any­thing else, I would not have been able to walk up be­hind you. Find your dis­cip­line.’

  I did, and re­luct­antly dredged up the game prob­lem from the night be­fore to con­cen­trate on.

  ‘That’s bet­ter,’ Kettle told me in quiet ap­proval.

  ‘What are you do­ing back here?’ I asked sud­denly. ‘I thought you and Starling were lead­ing the jep­pas.’

  ‘We’ve come to a fork in the road. And an­other pil­lar. Be­fore we pro­ceed, we want the Queen to see it.’

  The Fool and I hastened ahead, leav­ing Kettle to go back and tell Kettricken of the junc­ture. We found Starling sit­ting on some or­na­men­tal stone­work at the side of the road while the jep­pas browsed greed­ily. The junc­ture of the road was marked by a great paved circle, sur­roun­ded by open grassy meadow, with an­other mono­lith at its centre. I would have ex­pec­ted it to be crowned with moss and scarred by lichen. In­stead the black stone was smooth and clean save for dust de­pos­ited by wind and rain. I stood star­ing up at the stone, study­ing the glyphs while the Fool wandered about. I was won­der­ing if any of the mark­ings on this one matched the mark­ings I had copied to the map when the Fool ex­claimed, ‘There was a vil­lage here, once!’ He ges­tured wide with his hands.

  I glanced up, and saw what he meant. There were in­dent­a­tions in the mead­ows where stun­ted grass cloaked old, paved walk­ways. A wide, straight way that might have been a street once ran through the meadow and off be­neath the trees. Moss- and vine-shrouded up­thrusts were all that re­mained of cot­tage and shop walls that had lined it. Trees grew where once hearths had burned and folk had dined. The Fool found a large block of stone and climbed upon it to spy in all dir­ec­tions. ‘It might have been a size­able town, at one time.’

  It made sense. If this road had been the high­way for com­merce that I had seen in my Skill-see­ing, then it was only nat­ural that a town or mar­ket would spring up at every cross­roads. I could ima­gine it on a bright spring day, when farm­ers brought fresh eggs and new spring greens to town and weavers hung out their new goods to tempt the buy­ers and …

  For half an in­stant, the circle about the pil­lar thronged with folk. The vis­ion began and ended at the pave­ment stones. Only within the vir­tue of the black stone did the people laugh and ges­ture and barter with one an­other. A girl crowned with a twist of green vine came through the crowd, glan­cing back over her shoulder at someone. I swear she caught my eye and winked at me. I thought I heard my name called and turned my head. Upon a dais stood a fig­ure dressed in a flow­ing gar­ment that shimmered with the glint of gold thread. She wore a gil­ded wooden crown dec­or­ated with cun­ningly carved and painted rooster heads and tail feath­ers. Her sceptre was no more than a feather duster but she ges­tured with it roy­ally as she is­sued some de­cree. In the circle about me, folk roared with laughter. I could only stare at her ice-white skin and col­our­less eyes. She looked right at me.

  Starling slapped me, hard. My head snapped on my neck with the force of her blow. I looked at her in as­ton­ish­ment, blood pool­ing in my mouth where my teeth had cut my cheek. She lif­ted her clenched fist again, and I real­ized she had not slapped me. I stepped back hast­ily, catch­ing her wrist as her fist went by. ‘Stop it!’ I cried an­grily.

  ‘You … stop it!’ she panted. ‘And make her stop it, too!’ She ges­tured an­grily to where the Fool perched still upon his stone, frozen in art­ful mime of a statue. He did not breathe nor blink. But as I watched he slowly toppled over, fall­ing like a stone.

  I ex­pec­ted him to change it to a hand­spring in mid-fall, to come flash­ing to his feet as he so of­ten had when he amused King Shrewd’s court. In­stead he meas­ured his length in the meadow grass and lay still.

  For a mo­ment I stood stunned. Then I raced to his side. I seized the Fool un­der the arms and dragged him away from both the black circle and the black stone he had climbed upon. Some in­stinct made me take him into shade and lean him back against the trunk of a live oak. ‘Get wa­ter!’ I snapped at Starling, and her scold­ing and flut­ter­ing ceased. She ran back to the loaded jep­pas and got a wa­ter­skin.

  I put my fin­gers along­side his throat and found his life pulsing stead­ily there. His eyes were only half-closed and he lay like a man stunned. I called his name and pat­ted at his cheek un­til Starling re­turned with the wa­ter. I un­stoppered the skin and let a cold stream of it spat­ter down over his face. For a time there was no re­sponse. Then he gasped, snorted out wa­ter and sat up ab­ruptly. His eyes were blank. Then his gaze met mine and he grinned wildly. ‘Such a folk and such a day! It was the an­noun­cing of Realder’s dragon, and he had prom­ised he would fly me …’ He frowned sud­denly and looked about in con­fu­sion. ‘It fades, like a dream it fades, leav­ing less than its shadow be­hind …’

  Kettle and Kettricken were sud­denly with us as well. Starling tattled out all that had happened while I helped the Fool to drink some wa­ter. When she was fin­ished, Kettricken looked grave, but it was Kettle who lashed out at us. ‘The White Prophet and the Cata­lyst!’ she cried in dis­gust. ‘Rather name them as they are, the Fool and the Idiot. Of all the care­less, fool­ish things to do! He has no train­ing at all, how is he to pro­tect him­self from the co­terie?’

  ‘Do you know what happened?’ I de­man­ded, cut­ting into her tirade.

  ‘I … well, of course not. But I can sur­mise. The stone he clambered on must be a Skill-stone, the same stuff as the road and the pil­lars. And some­how this time the road seized you both with its power in­stead of just you.’

  ‘Did you know it could hap­pen?’ I didn’t wait for her reply. ‘Why didn’t you warn us?’

  ‘I didn’t know!’ she re­tor­ted, and then ad­ded guiltily, ‘I only sus­pec­ted, and I never thought either of you would be so fool­ish as to …’

  ‘Never mind!’ the Fool cut in. Ab­ruptly he laughed and stood up, push­ing away my arm. ‘Oh, this! This is such as I have not felt in years, not since I was a child. The cer­tainty, the power of it. Kettle! Would you hear a White Prophet speak? Then hearken to this, and be glad as I am glad. We are not only where we must be, we are when we must be. All junc­tures co­in­cide, we draw closer and closer to the centre of the web. You and I.’ He clasped my head sud­denly between his two hands and placed his brow against mine. ‘We are even who we must be!’ He freed me sud­denly and spun away. He launched the hand­spring I had ex­pec­ted earlier, came to his feet, curt­seyed deeply and laughed aloud again, ex­ult­antly. We all gawked at him.

  ‘You are in great danger!’ Kettle told him severely.

  ‘I know,’ he replied, al­most sin­cerely, and then ad­ded, ‘as I said. Ex­actly where we need to be.’ He paused, then asked me sud­denly, ‘Did you see my crown? Wasn’t it mag­ni­fi­cent? I won­der if I shall be able to carve it from memory?’

  ‘I saw the rooster crown,’ I said slowly. ‘But what to make of any of this, I do not know.’

  ‘You don’t?’ He cocked his head at me, then smiled pity­ingly. ‘Oh, Fitzy-fitz, I would ex­plain it if I could. It is not that I wish to keep secrets, but these secrets defy telling in mere words. They are more than half a feel­ing, a grasp­ing of right­ness. Can you trust me in this?�


  ‘You are alive again,’ I said won­der­ingly. I had not seen such light in his eyes since the days when he had made King Shrewd bel­low with laughter.

  ‘Yes,’ he said gently. ‘And when we have fin­ished, I prom­ise that you will be, also.’

  The three wo­men stood glar­ing and ex­cluded. When I looked at the out­rage on Starling’s face, the re­buke in Kettle’s and the ex­as­per­a­tion in Kettricken’s, I sud­denly had to grin. Be­hind me the Fool chuckled. And try as we might, we could not ex­plain to their sat­is­fac­tion ex­actly what had happened. Nev­er­the­less, we wasted quite some time in at­tempt­ing it.

  Kettricken took out both maps and con­sul­ted them. Kettle in­sis­ted on ac­com­pa­ny­ing me when I took my map back to the cent­ral pil­lar to com­pare the glyphs on it to the ones on the map. They shared a num­ber of marks in com­mon, but the only one that Kettricken re­cog­nized was the one she had named be­fore. Stone. When I re­luct­antly offered to see if this pil­lar might not trans­port me as the other one had, Kettricken adam­antly re­fused. I am ashamed to ad­mit I was greatly re­lieved. ‘We began to­gether, and I in­tend that we shall fin­ish to­gether,’ she said darkly. I knew she sus­pec­ted that the Fool and I were keep­ing some­thing from her.

  ‘What do you pro­pose then?’ I asked her humbly.

  ‘What I first sug­ges­ted. We will fol­low that old road that goes off through the trees. It ap­pears to match what is marked here. It can­not take us more than two marches to reach the end of it. Es­pe­cially if we start now.’

  And with no more an­nounce­ment than that, she got up and clicked to the jep­pas. The leader came im­me­di­ately and the rest obed­i­ently fell into line be­hind her. I watched her long even strides as she led them off down the shady road.

  ‘Well, get along, both of you!’ Kettle snapped at the Fool and me. She shook her walk­ing stick and I al­most sus­pec­ted she wished she could prod us along like er­rant sheep. But the Fool and I both fell obed­i­ently into line be­hind the jep­pas, leav­ing Starling and Kettle to fol­low us.

  That night the Fool and I left the tent’s shel­ter and went with Nighteyes. Both Kettle and Kettricken had been du­bi­ous as to the wis­dom of this, but I had as­sured them I would act with all cau­tion. The Fool had prom­ised not to let me out of his sight. Kettle rolled her eyes at this, but said noth­ing. Plainly we were both still sus­pec­ted of be­ing idi­ots, but they let us leave any­way. Starling was sulkily si­lent, but as we had not had words, I as­sumed her pique had some other source. As we left the fireside, Kettricken said quietly, ‘Watch over them, wolf,’ and Nighteyes replied with a wave of his tail.

  Nighteyes led us swiftly away from the grassy road and up into the wooded hills. The road had been lead­ing us stead­ily down­wards into more sheltered coun­try. The woods that we moved through were open groves of oaks with wide mead­ows between. I saw sign of wild boar but was re­lieved when we did not en­counter any. In­stead, the wolf ran down and killed two rab­bits that he gra­ciously al­lowed me to carry for him. As we were re­turn­ing to the camp by a round­about path we came on a stream. The wa­ter was icy and sweet and cress grew thick along one bank. The Fool and I tickled for fish un­til our hands and arms were numb with the cold wa­ter. As I hauled out a fi­nal fish, its lash­ing tail splashed the en­thu­si­as­tic wolf. He leaped back from it then snapped at me in re­buke. The Fool play­fully scooped up an­other hand­ful and flung it at him. Nighteyes leaped, jaws wide to meet it. Mo­ments later, all three of us were in­volved in a wa­ter battle, but I was the only one who landed bod­ily in the stream when the wolf sprang on me. Both Fool and wolf were laugh­ing heart­ily as I staggered out, soaked and chilled. I found my­self laugh­ing also. I could not re­call the last time I had simply laughed aloud about so simple a thing. We re­turned to camp late, but with fresh meat, fish, and wa­ter­cress to share.

  There was a small, wel­com­ing fire burn­ing out­side the tent. Kettle and Starling had already made por­ridge for our meal, but Kettle vo­lun­teered to cook again for the sake of the fresh food. While she was pre­par­ing it, Starling stared at me un­til I de­man­ded, ‘What?’

  ‘How did you all get so wet?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh. By the stream where we got the fish. Nighteyes pushed me in.’ I gave him a passing nudge with my knee as I headed to­ward the tent. He made a mock snap at my leg.

  ‘And the Fool fell in as well?’

  ‘We were throw­ing wa­ter at one an­other,’ I ad­mit­ted wryly. I grinned at her, but she did not smile. In­stead she gave a small snort as if dis­dain­ful. I shrugged and went into the tent. Kettricken glanced up at me from her map, but said noth­ing. I rucked through my pack and found clothes that were dry if not clean. Her back was turned so I changed hast­ily. We had grown ac­cus­tomed to grant­ing one an­other the pri­vacy of ig­nor­ing such things.

  ‘FitzChiv­alry,’ she said sud­denly in a voice that com­man­ded my at­ten­tion.

  I dragged my shirt down over my head and buttoned it. ‘Yes, my queen?’ I came to kneel be­side her, think­ing she wanted to con­sult on the map. In­stead, she set it aside and turned to me. Her blue eyes met mine squarely.

  ‘We are a small com­pany, all de­pend­ent on one an­other,’ she ab­ruptly told me. ‘Any kind of strife within our group serves the pur­pose of our en­emy.’

  I waited, but she said no more. ‘I do not un­der­stand why you tell me this,’ I said humbly at last.

  She sighed and shook her head. ‘I feared as much. And per­haps I do more harm than good to speak of it at all. Starling is tor­men­ted by your at­ten­tions to the Fool.’

  I was speech­less. Kettricken speared me with a blue glance, then looked aside from me again. ‘She be­lieves the Fool is a wo­man and that you kept a tryst with her to­night. It chag­rins her that you dis­dain her so com­pletely.’

  I found my tongue. ‘My lady queen, I do not dis­dain Mis­tress Starling.’ My out­rage had rendered me formal. ‘In truth, she is the one who has avoided my com­pany and put a dis­tance between us since find­ing that I am Wit­ted and sus­tain a bond with the wolf. Re­spect­ing her wishes, I have not pressed my friend­ship upon her. As to what she says of the Fool, surely you must find it as ludicrous as I do.’

  ‘Should I?’ Kettricken asked me softly. ‘All I can truth­fully say I know of it is that he is not a man like other men.’

  ‘I can­not dis­agree with that,’ I said quietly. ‘He is unique among all the people I have ever known.’

  ‘Can­not you show some kind­ness to her, FitzChiv­alry?’ Kettricken burst out sud­denly. ‘I do not ask that you court her, only that you do not let her be rent with jeal­ousy.’

  I fol­ded my lips, forced my feel­ings to find cour­teous an­swer. ‘My queen, I will of­fer her, as I ever have, my friend­ship. She has given me small sign of late of even want­ing that, let alone more. But as to that topic, I do not dis­dain her nor any other wo­man. My heart is given already. It is no more right to say that I dis­dain Starling than it is to say that you dis­dain me be­cause your heart is filled with my Lord Ver­ity.’

  Kettricken shot me an oddly startled look. For a mo­ment she seemed flustered. Then she looked down at the map she still gripped. ‘It is as I feared. I have only made it worse by speak­ing to you. I am so tired, Fitz. Des­pair drags at my heart al­ways. To have Starling moody is like sand against raw flesh to me. I but sought to put things right between you. I beg your par­don if I have in­truded. But you are a comely youth still, and it will not be the last time you have such cares.’

  ‘Comely?’ I laughed aloud, both in­cred­u­lous and bit­ter. ‘With this scarred face and battered body? It haunts my night­mares that when next Molly sees me, she shall turn aside from me in hor­ror. Comely.’ I turned aside from her, my throat sud­denly too tight to speak. It was not that I mourned my ap­pear­ance so much as I dreaded that M
olly must look some day on my scars.

  ‘Fitz,’ Kettricken said quietly. Her voice was sud­denly that of a friend, not the Queen. ‘I speak to you as a wo­man, to tell you that al­though you bear scars, you are far from the grot­esque you seem to be­lieve your­self. You are, still, a comely youth, in ways that have noth­ing to do with your face. And were my heart not full with my Lord Ver­ity, I would not dis­dain you.’ She reached out a hand and ran cool fin­gers down the old split down my cheek, as if her touch could erase it. My heart turned over in me, an echo of Ver­ity’s em­bed­ded pas­sion for her amp­li­fied by my grat­it­ude that she would say such a thing to me.

  ‘You well de­serve my lord’s love,’ I told her art­lessly from a full heart.

  ‘Oh, do not look at me with his eyes,’ she said dole­fully. She rose sud­denly, clasp­ing the map to her breast like a shield, and left the tent.

  THIRTY

  Stone Garden

  Dim­ity Keep, a very small hold­ing on the coast of Buck, fell shortly be­fore Regal crowned him­self King of the Six Duch­ies. A great many vil­lages were des­troyed in that dread time, and there has never been a true count made of all the lives that were lost. Small keeps like Dim­ity were fre­quent tar­gets for the Red Ships. Their strategy was to at­tack simple vil­lages and the smal­ler hold­ings to weaken the over­all de­fence line. Lord Bronze, to whom the Keep of Dim­ity was en­trus­ted, was an old man, but non­ethe­less he led his men in de­fend­ing his small castle. Un­for­tu­nately, heavy tax­a­tion for gen­eral coast­line pro­tec­tion had drained his re­sources for some time, and Dim­ity Keep’s de­fences were in poor re­pair. Lord Bronze was among the first to fall. The Red Ships took the keep al­most eas­ily, and re­duced it with fire and sword to the rubble-strewn mound that it is today.

 

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