Assassin's Quest (UK)

by Robin Hobb

  Oth­ers come! And above us!

  Nighteyes’ warn­ing nearly killed me. For in the in­stant I lif­ted my eyes, Will sprang at me. I gave ground, all but run­ning back­wards to avoid his blade. Far be­hind him, from the mouth of the quarry, a dozen men ran to­ward us, bran­dish­ing blades. They moved, not in step, but with a one­ness to them far more co­hes­ive than any mere troops could have mastered. A co­terie. I sensed their Skill as they ap­proached like the storm winds that pre­cede a squall. Will sud­denly hal­ted his ad­vance. My wolf raced to meet them, teeth bared, snarling.

  Nighteyes! Stop! You can­not fight twelve blades wiel­ded by one mind!

  Will lowered his blade, then cas­u­ally sheathed it. He called to the co­terie over his shoulder, ‘Don’t bother with them. Let the arch­ers fin­ish them.’

  A glance at the tower­ing walls of the quarry showed me this was no bluff. Gold-and-brown-clad sol­diers were com­ing into po­s­i­tion. I grasped this was what the troops were about. Not to de­feat Ver­ity, but to take and hold this quarry. An­other wave of hu­mi­li­ation and des­pair washed over me. Then I lif­ted my blade and charged at Will. Him, at least, I would kill.

  An ar­row clattered across the stone where I had stood, an­other skittered right between Nighteyes’ legs. A scream rose from the walls of the quarry to the west of us. Girl on a Dragon swept low over me, the Fool on her back, a gold and brown archer writh­ing in the dragon’s jaws. The man was gone sud­denly, a puff of smoke or steam swept away by the wind of her pas­sage. She banked her wings, came in low again, snatch­ing up an­other archer and send­ing one leap­ing into the quarry to avoid her. An­other puff of smoke.

  On the floor of the quarry, all of us were frozen, gap­ing up. Will re­covered more quickly than I did. An angry shout to his arch­ers, ringing with Skill. ‘Fire upon her! Bring her down!’

  Al­most in­stantly a phalanx of ar­rows went singing to­ward her. Some arched and fell be­fore they even reached her. The rest she de­flec­ted with a single power­ful beat of her wings. The ar­rows sud­denly wobbled in the gust of her wind, and fell tum­bling like straws to shat­ter on the quarry floor. Girl on a Dragon ab­ruptly stooped and came diving dir­ec­tly at Will.

  He fled. I be­lieve Regal aban­doned him for at least as long as it took him to make that de­cision. He ran, and for an in­stant it ap­peared that he chased the wolf who had nearly closed the dis­tance between him and the co­terie. Save at the mo­ment the co­terie real­ized that Will was flee­ing to­ward them with a dragon sheer­ing through the air be­hind him, the co­terie turned on their heels and fled as well. I caught a brief flash of Nighteyes’ de­lighted tri­umph that twelve swords­men would not stand to meet his charge. Then he cowered to the earth as Girl on a Dragon swept low over all of us.

  It was not only the harsh wind of her pas­sage that I felt, but also a dizzy­ing sweep of Skill, that in an in­stant snatched from my mind every thought I had been hold­ing. It was as if the world had been plunged briefly into ab­so­lute dark­ness and then handed back to me in full bright­ness. I stumbled as I ran, and for an in­stant could not re­call why I car­ried a bared sword or whom I chased. Ahead of me Will faltered as her shadow swept him, and then the co­terie staggered in their turn.

  Her claws snatched fruit­lessly at Will as she passed. The scattered blocks of black stone were his sal­va­tion, for such was her wing span that he could elude her in the nar­row­ness of their maze. She shrieked her frus­tra­tion, the high wild cry of a hawk thwarted. She rose and banked to make a second sweep at him. I gasped as she flew right into a singing flight of ar­rows. They rattled use­lessly off her hide as if the arch­ers had tar­geted the black stone of the quarry it­self. Only the Fool cowered away from them. Girl on a Dragon changed course ab­ruptly, to fly low over the arch­ers and snatch an­other from their midst and con­sume him in an in­stant.

  Again her shadow swept over me, and again a mo­ment of my life was snatched from me. I opened my eyes to find Will gone. Then I caught a brief glimpse of him, veer­ing as he ran dodging between the stand­ing blocks of stone much as a hare breaks his trail as he flees from a hawk. I could no longer see the co­terie, but sud­denly Nighteyes sprang from the shadow of a stone block to race by my side.

  Oh, my brother, the Scent­less One hunts well! he ex­ul­ted. We were wise to take him into our pack!

  Will is my kill! I de­clared to him.

  Your kill is my kill, he poin­ted out, quite ser­i­ously. That is pack. And he shall be no one’s kill un­less we spread out to find him.

  He was right. Ahead of us, I heard shouts and oc­ca­sion­ally saw a gold and brown flash as a man dashed across a wide space between the blocks of stone. But most of them had rap­idly un­der­stood that the way to re­main sheltered from the dragon was to cling closely to the edges of the im­mense stone blocks.

  They are run­ning for the pil­lar. If we get to where we can see it, we can wait for him there.

  It seemed lo­gical. To flee through the pil­lar would be the only way they could hope to es­cape the dragon for any length of time. I still heard the oc­ca­sional clat­ter as ar­rows rained down in the dragon’s wake, but a good por­tion of the arch­ers who had ringed the quarry walls had re­treated to the shel­ter of the sur­round­ing forest.

  Nighteyes and I aban­doned all ef­forts to find Will and simply went dir­ec­tly to the pil­lar. I had to ad­mire the dis­cip­line of some of Regal’s arch­ers. Des­pite all else, if the wolf and I broke cover for more than a few strides, we would hear a cry of ‘There they are!’ and mo­ments later ar­rows would be hail­ing down where we had been.

  We reached the pil­lar in time to see two of Regal’s new co­terie dash across the open, hands reach­ing, to plunge into the dark pil­lar it­self the mo­ment they touched it. The rune for the stone garden was the one they chose, but per­haps it was only be­cause it was the side of the pil­lar closest to cover. We did not move from the angle of a great block that sheltered us from ar­rows.

  Did he go through already?

  Per­haps. Wait.

  Sev­eral etern­it­ies passed. I be­came cer­tain that Will had eluded us. Above us Girl on a Dragon swept her shadow over the quarry walls. The cries of her vic­tims were less fre­quent. The arch­ers were us­ing the cover of trees to hide them­selves. Briefly I watched her rise, circ­ling high above the quarry. She hung shin­ing green high against the blue sky, rock­ing on her wings. I wondered what it was like for the Fool to ride so. At least he had the girl part of the dragon to cling to. Ab­ruptly Girl on a Dragon tipped, side-slipped in the sky, and then fol­ded her wings, plum­met­ing down to­ward us. At the mo­ment she did, Will broke cover and ran for the pil­lar.

  Nighteyes and I leaped after him. We were ag­on­iz­ingly close be­hind him. I ran fast, but the wolf ran faster, and Will fled the fast­est of all. At the mo­ment when his reach­ing fin­ger­tips brushed the pil­lar, the wolf made a fi­nal spring. His front paws slammed into Will’s back, send­ing him head first to­ward the pil­lar. As I saw him melt­ing into it, I cried out a warn­ing to Nighteyes and gripped his fur to drag him back. He seized one of Will’s calves as Will was snatched away from us. At the mo­ment that his jaws closed on Will’s flesh, the dragon’s shadow swept over us. I lost my grip on the world and fell into black­ness.

  Tales abound of her­oes who have wrestled dark foes in the un­der­world. There are a few told of those who have will­ingly entered the dark un­known to res­cue friends or lov­ers. In a time­less mo­ment, I was offered quite clearly a choice. I could seize Will and choke the life out of him. Or clasp Nighteyes to me and hold him to­gether against all the forces that tore at his wolf’s mind and be­ing. It was, really, no de­cision at all.

  We emerged into cool shade and trampled grass. One mo­ment there was only dark­ness and pas­sage; in the next we breathed, and felt again. And feared. I scrabbled to my feet, amazed to find I still grippe
d Ver­ity’s sword. Nighteyes heaved him­self up, staggered two steps and fell over. Sick. Poisoned. The whole world sways.

  Lie still and breathe. I stood be­fore him and lif­ted my eyes to glare around us. My gaze was re­turned, not only by Will but by most of Regal’s new co­terie. Most of them were still breath­ing hard, and one gave a shout of alarm at the sight of us. When Will shouted, a num­ber of Far­row guards came run­ning as well. They fanned out to sur­round us.

  We must go back through the pil­lar. It’s our only chance.

  I can­not. You go. Nighteyes’ head drooped to­ward his paws and his eyes closed.

  That is not pack! I told him sternly. I lif­ted Ver­ity’s sword. So this was how I was go­ing to die. I was glad the Fool had not told me. I prob­ably would have killed my­self first.

  ‘Just kill him,’ Will ordered them. ‘We’ve wasted enough time on him. Kill him and the wolf. And then find me an archer who can shoot a man off a dragon’s back for me.’ Regal turned Will’s back to me and strode away, still is­su­ing or­ders. ‘You, Third Co­terie. You told me a fin­ished dragon could not be wakened and made to serve. Well, I have just seen an un­Skilled Fool do that very thing. You will find out how it was done. You will be­gin now. Let the Bas­tard test his Skill against swords.’

  I lif­ted my sword and Nighteyes pulled him­self to his feet. His queas­i­ness lapped against my fear as the circle of sol­diers closed around us. Well, if I must die now, there was no more to fear. Per­haps I would try my Skill against their swords. I dis­carded my walls, fling­ing them aside dis­dain­fully. The Skill was a river that raged all around me, a river that in this place was al­ways in flood. As eas­ily as draw­ing a breath it was to fill my­self with it. A second breath ban­ished my body’s wear­i­ness and pains. I reached out with strength to my wolf. Be­side me, Nighteyes gave him­self a shake. The rising of his hackles and the bar­ing of his teeth made him twice as large. My eyes circled the swords that sur­roun­ded us. Then we no longer waited, but sprang to meet them. As swords lif­ted to meet mine, Nighteyes raced for­ward and un­der them, then spun to slash a man’s leg from be­hind.

  Nighteyes be­came a creature of speed, teeth and fur. He did not try to bite and hold. In­stead he used his weight to knock men off bal­ance, send­ing them stum­bling into one an­other, ham­string­ing them when he could, slash­ing with his teeth rather than bit­ing. For me the chal­lenge be­came not to strike at him as he dashed thither and yon. He never tried to chal­lenge their swords. The mo­ment a man turned to him and ad­vanced, he fled, to shoulder past the legs of those who sought to con­front me.

  As for me I wiel­ded Ver­ity’s sword with a grace and a skill I had never be­fore known with such a weapon. Hod’s les­sons and Hod’s work fi­nally came to­gether for me, and if such a thing were pos­sible, I would say that the spirit of the sword­mas­ter was in the weapon and that she sang to me as I wiel­ded it. I could not break out of the circle they pinned me in, but neither could they get past my guard to do more than minor dam­age.

  In that first flurry of battle, we fought well and did well, but the odds were im­pos­sible. I could force men back from my sword and step to­ward them, but in the next mo­ment I must turn to fight those who had closed be­hind me. I could move the circle of battle, but not es­cape it. Still, I blessed the greater reach of Ver­ity’s sword that kept me alive. Other men were com­ing at a run to the din and shouts of fight­ing. Those who came drove a wedge between Nighteyes and me, for­cing him ever fur­ther away.

  Get clear of them all and run. Run. Live, my brother.

  For an­swer he raced away from them all, then sud­denly came loop­ing back, char­ging right through their midst. Regal’s men hacked at each other in a fu­tile ef­fort to stop him. They were not used to an op­pon­ent less than half the height of a man and with twice the speed of one. Most aimed chop­ping blows at him that did no more than cleave the earth in his wake. In an in­stant, he was past them and had van­ished once more into the lush forest. Men glared about wildly, won­der­ing where next he would come from.

  But even at the hot­test of the fight, I knew the hope­less­ness of what we did. Regal would win. Even were I to kill every man here, Will in­cluded, Regal would win. Had already won for that mat­ter. And had I not known he al­ways would? Had not I known, from the very be­gin­ning, that Regal was destined to rule?

  I took a sud­den step for­ward, took off a man’s arm at the el­bow, and used the mo­mentum of that blow to call the sword’s blade back in an arc that took the tip across the face of an­other man. As the two fell, tangling to­gether, there was a tiny open­ing in the circle. I took a step into the brief space, fo­cused my Skill and seized Will’s in­si­di­ous grip upon my mind. I felt a blade lick against my left shoulder as I did so. I spun to en­gage my at­tacker’s sword, then bade my body think for it­self for a mo­ment and made good my grip on Will. Wound through Will’s con­scious­ness I found Regal, twis­ted into him like a drill-worm in a deer’s heart. Will could not have broken free of him even if he had been able to think of do­ing it. And it seemed to me that there was not enough left of Will to even form a thought for him­self. Will was a body, a ves­sel of meat and blood, hold­ing Skill for Regal to wield. Bereft of the co­terie that had strengthened him, he was not all that for­mid­able a weapon any more. Less valu­able. One that might be used and cast aside with little re­morse.

  I could not fight in both dir­ec­tions at once. I kept my grip on Will’s mind, forced his thoughts away from mine, and strove to dir­ect my body as well. In the next in­stant, I took two cuts, one to my left calf and one to my right fore­arm. I knew I could not sus­tain it. I could not see Nighteyes. He at least had a chance. Get clear of this, Nighteyes. It’s all over.

  It but be­gins! he con­tra­dicted me. He surged through me like a flash of heat. From some other part of the camp, I heard a cry in Will’s voice. Some­where, a Wit-wolf rav­aged his body. I could sense Regal try­ing to un­wind his mind from Will’s. I clamped my hold tighter on them both. Stay and face it, Regal!

  The point of a sword found my hip. I jerked away from it and stumbled against stone, leav­ing a bloody hand­print as I pushed my­self up­right again. It was Realder’s dragon; I had dragged the battle that far. I put my back to him thank­fully and turned to face my at­tack­ers. Nighteyes and Will still fought; plainly Regal had learned some­thing from his tor­tures of Wit­ted ones. He was not as vul­ner­able to the wolf as he once would have been. He could not hurt the wolf with Skill, but he could wrap him with layer upon layer of fear. Nighteyes’ heart was sud­denly thun­der­ing in my ears. I opened my­self once more to the Skill, filled my­self and did what I had never at­temp­ted be­fore. I fed Skill-strength as Wit to Nighteyes. For you, my brother. I felt Nighteyes re­pel at Will, break­ing free of him for an in­stant. Will used that in­stant to flee us both. I longed to give chase, but be­hind me, I felt an an­swer­ing stir of the Wit in Realder’s dragon. In a brief stench, my bloody hand­print on his hide smoked away. He stirred. He was awaken­ing. And he was hungry.

  There was a sud­den crack­ling of branches and a storm of torn leaves as a great wind broke into the still heart of the forest. Girl on a Dragon landed ab­ruptly in the small cleared space by the pil­lar. Her lash­ing tail cleared the area around her of men. ‘Over there!’ the Fool shouted to her, and in a mo­ment her head snaked out, to seize one of my at­tack­ers in her fear­some jaws. He van­ished in a puff of smoke, and I felt her Skill swell with the life she had con­sumed.

  Be­hind me, a wedge-shaped rep­tilian head lif­ted sud­denly. For a mo­ment all was black­ness as that shadow passed over me. Then the head dar­ted out, swifter than a strik­ing snake, to seize the man nearest us. He van­ished, the steam of what he had been stink­ing briefly past me. The roar the dragon gave near deafened me.

  My brother?

  I live, Nighteyes.

  As do I, brother.
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br />   AS DO I, BROTHER. AND I HUN­GER!

  The Wit-voice of a very large car­ni­vore. Old Blood in­deed. The strength of it shivered through my bones. Nighteyes had the wit to reply.

  Feed, then, large brother. Make our kill yours, and wel­come. That is pack.

  Realder’s dragon did not have to be in­vited twice. Who­ever Realder had been, he had put a healthy ap­pet­ite into his dragon. Great clawed feet tore clear of the moss and earth, a tail lashed free, felling a small tree as it passed. I was barely able to scramble out of his path as he lunged to en­gulf an­other Far­row­man in his jaws.

  Blood and the Wit! That is what it takes. Blood and the Wit. We can wake the dragons.

  Blood and the Wit? At the mo­ment, we are drenched in both. He un­der­stood me in­stantly.

  In the midst of slaughter, Nighteyes and I played an in­sane child’s game. It was al­most a con­test to see who could wake the most, a con­test the wolf eas­ily won. He would dart to a dragon, shake blood from his coat onto it, then bid it, Wake, brother, and feed. We have brought you meat. And as each great body smoked with wolf-blood and then stirred, he would re­mind it, We are pack!

  I found King Wis­dom. His was the antlered dragon, and he roused from his sleep shout­ing Buck! For Buck­keep! Eda and El, but I am hungry!

  There are Red Ships aplenty off the coast of Buck, my lord. They but await your jaws, I told him. For all his words, there was little hu­man left about him. Stone and souls had merged, to be­come dragons in truth. We un­der­stood one an­other as car­ni­vores do. They had hunted as a pack be­fore, and that they re­called well. Most of the other dragons had noth­ing at all hu­man about them. They had been shaped by Eld­er­lings, not men, and we un­der­stood little more of one an­other than that we were broth­ers and had brought them meat. Those who had been formed by co­ter­ies had dim re­col­lec­tions of Buck and Farseer kings. It was not those memor­ies that bound them to me, but my prom­ise of food. I coun­ted it as the greatest bless­ing that I could im­print that much on those strange minds.