Royal Assassin (UK)

by Robin Hobb

  ‘Shut up! You’re the one who pushed me, so it was your fault as much as mine!’

  And the two were off, push­ing and scuff­ling with each other, un­til a shout from Cook sent them tum­bling from the kit­chen. But I had as much in­form­a­tion as I needed. I headed out for the stables.

  I found it a colder and nas­tier day out­side than I had ex­pec­ted. Even within the stables, the wind found every crack and came shriek­ing through the doors each time one was opened. The horses’ breath steamed in the air, and sta­blem­ates leaned com­pan­ion­ably close for the warmth they could share. I found Hands, and asked where Burrich was.

  ‘Cut­ting wood,’ he said quietly. ‘For a fu­neral pyre. He’s been drink­ing since dawn, too.’

  Al­most this drove my quest from my mind. I had never known such a thing to be. Burrich drank, but in the even­ings, when the day’s work was done. Hands read my face.

  ‘Vixen. His old bitch hound. She died in the night. Yet I have never heard of a pyre for a dog. He’s out be­hind the ex­er­cise pen now.’

  I turned to­ward the pen.

  ‘Fitz!’ Hands warned me ur­gently.

  ‘It will be all right, Hands. I know what she meant to him. The first night he had care of me, he put me in a stall be­side her, and told her to guard me. She had a pup be­side her, Nosy …’

  Hands shook his head. ‘He said he wanted to see no one. To send him no ques­tions today. No one to talk to him. He’s never given me an or­der like that.’

  ‘All right,’ I sighed.

  Hands looked dis­ap­prov­ing. ‘As old as she was, he should have ex­pec­ted it. She couldn’t even hunt with him any more. He should have re­placed her a long time ago.’

  I looked at Hands. For all his caring for the beasts, for all his gen­tle­ness and good in­stincts, he couldn’t really know. Once, I had been shocked to dis­cover my Wit sense as a sep­ar­ate sense. Now to con­front Hands’ total lack of it was to dis­cover his blind­ness. I just shook my head, and dragged my mind back to my ori­ginal er­rand. ‘Hands, have you seen the Queen today?’

  ‘Yes, but it was a while ago.’ His eyes scanned my face anxiously. ‘She came to me, and asked if Prince Ver­ity had taken Truth out of the stables and down to town. I told her no, that the Prince had come to see him, but had left him in the stables today. I told her the streets would be all iced cobbles. Ver­ity would not risk his fa­vour­ite on a sur­face like that. He walks down to Buck­keep Town as of­ten as not these days, though he comes through the stable al­most every day. He told me it’s an ex­cuse to be out in the air and the open.’

  My heart sank. With a cer­tainty that was like a vis­ion, I knew that Kettricken had fol­lowed Ver­ity into Buck­keep Town. On foot? With no one ac­com­pa­ny­ing her? On this foul day? While Hands be­rated him­self for not fore­see­ing the Queen’s in­ten­tion, I took Sidekick, a well-named but sure-footed mule, from his stall. I dared not take the time to go back to my room for warmer clothes. So I bor­rowed Hands’ cloak to sup­ple­ment mine, and dragged the re­luct­ant an­imal out of the stables and into the wind and fall­ing snow.

  Are you com­ing now?

  Not now, but soon. There is some­thing I must see to.

  May I go, too?

  No. It isn’t safe. Now be quiet and stay out of my thoughts.

  I stopped at the gate to ques­tion the guard most bluntly. Yes, a wo­man on foot had come this way this morn­ing. Sev­eral of them, for there were some whose trades made this trip ne­ces­sary, no mat­ter the weather. The Queen? The men on watch ex­changed glances. No one replied. I sug­ges­ted per­haps there had been a wo­man, heav­ily-cloaked, and hooded well? White fur trim­ming the hood? A young guard nod­ded. Em­broid­ery on the cloak, white and purple at the hem? They ex­changed un­com­fort­able glances. There had been a wo­man like that. They had not known who she was, but now that I sug­ges­ted those col­ours, they should have known …

  In a coldly level voice, I be­rated them as dolts and mor­ons. Uniden­ti­fied folk passed un­chal­lenged through our gates? They had looked on white fur and purple em­broid­ery, and never even guessed it might be the Queen? And none had seen fit to ac­com­pany her? None chose to be her guard? Even after yes­ter­day? A fine place was Buck­keep these days, when our queen had not even a foot sol­dier at her heels when she went out walk­ing in a snowstorm down to Buck­keep Town. I kicked Sidekick and left them set­tling blame amongst them­selves.

  The go­ing was miser­able. The wind was in a fickle mood, chan­ging dir­ec­tions as of­ten as I found a way to block it with my cloak. The snow not only fell, the wind caught up the frozen crys­tals from the ground and swirled it up un­der my cloak at every op­por­tun­ity. Sidekick was not happy, but he plod­ded along through the thick­en­ing snow. Be­neath the snow, the un­even trail to town was glazed with treach­er­ous ice. The mule be­came resigned to my stub­born­ness and trudged dis­con­sol­ately along. I blinked the cling­ing flakes from my eye­lashes and tried to urge him to greater speed. Im­ages of the Queen, crumpled in the snow, the blow­ing flakes cov­er­ing her over, kept try­ing to push into my mind. Non­sense! I told my­self firmly. Non­sense.

  I was on the out­skirts of Buck­keep Town be­fore I over­took her. I knew her from be­hind, even if she had not been wear­ing her purple and white. She strode through the drift­ing snow with a fine in­dif­fer­ence, her moun­tain-bred flesh as im­mune to the cold as I was to salt-breeze and damp. ‘Queen Kettricken! Lady! Please, wait for me!’

  She turned and, as she caught sight of me, smiled and waited. I slid from Sidekick’s back as I came abreast of her. I had not real­ized how wor­ried I was un­til the re­lief flooded through me at see­ing her un­harmed. ‘What are you do­ing out here, alone, in this storm?’ I de­man­ded of her, and be­lated ad­ded, ‘My lady.’

  She looked about her as if just no­ti­cing the fall­ing snow and gust­ing wind, then turned back to me with a rue­ful grin. She was not the least bit chilled or un­com­fort­able: to the con­trary, her cheeks were rosy with her walk, and the white fur around her face set off her yel­low hair and blue eyes. Here, in this white­ness, she was not pale and col­our­less, but tawny and pink, blue eyes spark­ling. She looked more vi­tal than I had seen her in days. Yes­ter­day she had been Death astride a horse, and Grief wash­ing the bod­ies of her slain. But today, here, in the snow, she was a merry girl, es­caped from keep and sta­tion to go hik­ing through the snow. ‘I go to find my hus­band.’

  ‘Alone? Does he know you are com­ing, and like this, afoot?’

  She looked startled. Then she tucked in her chin and bridled just like my mule. ‘Is he not my hus­band? Do I need an ap­point­ment to see him? Why should not I go afoot and alone? Do I seem so in­com­pet­ent to you that I might be­come lost on the road to Buck­keep Town?

  She set off walk­ing again, and I was forced to keep pace with her. I dragged the mule along with me. Sidekick was not en­thused. ‘Queen Kettricken,’ I began, but she cut me off.

  ‘I grow so weary of this.’ She hal­ted ab­ruptly and turned to face me. ‘Yes­ter­day, for the first time in many days, I felt as if I were alive and had a will of my own. I do not in­tend to let that slip away from me. If I wish to visit my hus­band at his work, I shall. Well do I know that not one of my ladies would care for this out­ing, in this weather and afoot, or oth­er­wise. So I am alone. And my horse was in­jured yes­ter­day, and the foot­ing here is not kind to a beast any­way. So I do not ride. All of this makes sense. Why have you fol­lowed me and why do you ques­tion me?’

  She had chosen blunt­ness as the weapon, so I took it up as well. But I took a breath and tuned my voice to cour­tesy be­fore I began. ‘My lady queen, I fol­lowed to be sure you had not come to any harm. Here, with only a mule’s ears to hear us, I will speak plainly. Have you so swiftly for­got­ten who tried to topple Ver­ity from the throne in your own Moun­tain King­dom? Wo
uld he hes­it­ate to plot here as well? I think not. Do you be­lieve it an ac­ci­dent you were lost and astray in the woods two nights ago? I do not. And do you think that your ac­tions yes­ter­day were pleas­ing to him? Quite the con­trary. What you do for the sake of your people, he sees as your ploy to take power to your­self. So he sulks and mut­ters and de­cides you are a greater threat than be­fore. You must know all this. So why do you set your­self out as a tar­get, here where an ar­row or a knife could find you with such ease and no wit­nesses?’

  ‘I am not so easy a tar­get as that,’ she de­fied me. ‘’I would take an ex­cel­lent archer in­deed to make an ar­row fly true in these shift­ing winds. As for a knife, well, I’ve a knife, too. To strike me, one must come where I can strike back.’ She turned and strode off again.

  I fol­lowed re­lent­lessly. ‘And where would that lead? To your killing a man. And all the keep in an up­roar, and Ver­ity chas­tising his guard, that you could be so en­dangered? And what if the killer were bet­ter with a knife than you? What con­sequence for the Six Duch­ies if I were now pulling your body out of a drift? I swal­lowed and ad­ded, ‘My queen.’

  Her pace slowed, but her chin was still up as she asked softly. ‘What con­sequence for me if I sit day after day in the keep, grow­ing soft and blind as a grub? FitzChiv­alry, I am not a game piece, to sit my space on the board un­til some player sets me in mo­tion. I am … there’s a wolf watch­ing us!’

  ‘Where?’

  She poin­ted, but he had van­ished like a swirl of snow, leav­ing only a ghostly laughter in my mind. A mo­ment later a trick of the wind brought his scent to Sidestep. The mule snorted and tugged at his lead rope. ‘I did not know we had wolves so near!’ Kettricken mar­velled.

  ‘Just a town dog, my lady. Prob­ably some mangy, home­less beast out to sniff and paw through the vil­lage mid­den-heap. He is noth­ing to fear.’

  You think not? I’m hungry enough to eat that mule.

  Go back and wait. I shall come soon.

  The mid­den-heap is nowhere near here. Be­sides, it’s full of seagulls and stinks of their drop­pings. And other things. The mule would be fresh and sweet.

  Go back, I tell you. I’ll bring you meat later.

  ‘FitzChiv­alry?’ This from Kettricken, war­ily.

  I snapped my eyes back to her face. ‘I beg par­don, my lady. My mind wandered.’

  ‘Then that an­ger in your face is not for me?

  ‘No. An­other has … crossed my will this day. For you, I have con­cern, not an­ger. Will not you mount Sidekick and let me take you back to the keep?’

  ‘I wish to see Ver­ity.’

  ‘My queen, it will not please him, to see you come so.’

  She sighed and grew a bit smal­ler in­side her cloak. She looked aside from me as she asked more quietly, ‘Have you never wished to pass your time in someone’s pres­ence, Fitz, whether they wel­comed you or not? Can­not you un­der­stand my loneli­ness …’

  I do.

  ‘To be his Queen-in-Wait­ing, to be Sac­ri­fice for Buck­keep, this I know I must do well. But there is an­other part of me … I am wo­man to his man and wife to his hus­band­ing. To that I am sworn as well, and am more will­ing than du­ti­ful to it. But he comes sel­dom to me, and when he does, he speaks little and leaves soon.’ She turned back to me. Tears sparkled sud­denly on her eye­lashes. She dashed them away and a note of an­ger crept into her voice. ‘You spoke once of my duty, of do­ing what only a queen can do for Buck­keep. Well, I shall not get with child ly­ing alone in my bed night after night!’

  ‘My queen, my lady, please,’ I begged her. Heat rose in my face.

  She was mer­ci­less. ‘Last night, I did not wait. I went to his door. But the guard claimed he was not there. That he had gone to his tower.’ She looked aside from me. ‘Even that work is prefer­able to how he must la­bour in my bed.’ Not even that bit­ter­ness could cover the hurt un­der her words.

  I reeled with the things I did not want to know. The cold of Kettricken alone in her bed. Ver­ity, drawn to Skill at night. I did not know which was worse. My voice shook as I said, ‘You must not tell me these things, my queen. To speak of this to me is not right …’

  ‘Then let me go and speak to him. He is the one who needs to hear this, I know. And I am go­ing to speak it! If he will not come to me for his heart’s sake, then he must come for his duty.’

  This makes sense. She is the one who must bear if the pack is to in­crease.

  Stay out of this. Go home.

  Home! A de­ris­ive bark of laughter in my mind. Home is a pack not a cold, empty place. Listen to the fe­male. She speaks well. We should all go, to be with him who leads. You fear fool­ishly for this bitch. She hunts well, with a keen tooth, and her kills are clean. I watched her yes­ter­day. She is worthy of he who leads.

  We are not pack. Be si­lent.

  I am. At the corner of my eye, I caught a flash of move­ment. I turned quickly, but there was noth­ing there. I turned back to find Kettricken stand­ing si­lent be­fore me still. But I sensed the spark of an­ger that had spir­ited her was now damped in pain. It bled her re­solve from her.

  I spoke quietly through the wind. ‘Please, lady, let me take you back to Buck­keep.’

  She did not reply, but pulled her hood up around her face and tightened it to hide most of her face. Then she walked to the mule and moun­ted and suffered me to lead the beast back to the keep. It seemed a longer, colder walk in her sub­dued si­lence. I was not proud of the change I had wrought in her. To take my mind from it, I ques­ted out about me care­fully. It did not take me long to find Cub. He stalked and shad­owed us, drift­ing like smoke through the tree cover, us­ing the wind­blown drifts and fall­ing snow to hide him­self. I could never once ac­tu­ally swear that I saw him. I caught mo­tion from the corner of my eye, a tiny bit of his scent on the wind. His in­stincts served him well.

  Think you I am ready to hunt?

  Not un­til you are ready to obey. I made my reply severe.

  What then shall I do when I hunt alone, pack­less one? He was stung, and angry.

  We were draw­ing near to the outer wall of Buck­keep. I wondered how he had got out­side the keep without passing through a gate.

  Shall I show you? A peace of­fer­ing.

  Per­haps later. When I come with meat. I felt his as­sent. He was no longer pa­cing us, but had raced off ahead, and would be at the cot­tage when I got there. The guards at the gate abashedly chal­lenged me. I iden­ti­fied my­self form­ally, and the ser­geant had the wit not to in­sist that I identify the lady with me. In the court­yard I hal­ted Sidekick that she might dis­mount and offered her my hand. As she climbed down, I all but felt eyes on me. I turned, and saw Molly. She car­ried two buck­ets of wa­ter fresh drawn from the well. She stood still, look­ing at me, poised like a deer be­fore flight. Her eyes were deep, her face very still. When she turned aside, there was a stiff­ness to her car­riage. She did not glance at us again as she crossed the court­yard and went to­ward the kit­chen en­trance. I felt a cold fore­bod­ing in­side me. Then Kettricken let go of my hand and gathered her cloak more closely about her­self. She did not look at me either, but only said softly, ‘Thank you, FitzChiv­alry.’ She walked slowly to­ward the door.

  I re­turned Sidekick to the stable and saw to him. Hands came by and raised an eye­brow at me. I nod­ded, and he went on about his work. Some­times, I think that was what I liked best about Hands, his abil­ity to leave alone that which was not his con­cern.

  I made bold my heart for that which I did next. I went out be­hind the ex­er­cise pens. There was a thin trail of smoke rising and a nasty scent of scorch­ing meat and hair. I walked to­ward it. Burrich stood next to the fire, watch­ing it burn. The wind and snow kept try­ing to put it out, but Burrich was de­term­ined it would burn well. He glanced at me as I came up but would not look at me or speak to me. His eyes were black hol­lows
full of dumb pain. It would turn to an­ger if I dared speak to him. But I had not come for him. I took my knife from my belt and cut from my head a fin­ger’s-length lock of hair. I ad­ded it to the pyre, and watched as it burned. Vixen. A most ex­cel­lent bitch. A memory came to me and I spoke it aloud. ‘She was there the first time Regal ever looked at me. She lay be­side me and snarled up at him.’

  After a mo­ment, Burrich nod­ded to my words. He, too, had been there. I turned and slowly walked away.

  My next stop was the kit­chen, to filch a num­ber of meat bones left over from yes­ter­day’s wake. They were not fresh meat, but they’d have to do. Cub was right. He’d have to be put out on his own soon, to hunt for him­self. See­ing Burrich’s pain had re­newed my re­solve. Vixen had lived a long life, for a hound, but still too short for Burrich’s heart. To bond to any an­imal was to prom­ise one­self that fu­ture pain. My heart had been broken suf­fi­cient times already.

  I was still pon­der­ing the best way to do this as I ap­proached the cot­tage. I lif­ted my head sud­denly, get­ting only the briefest pre­cog­ni­tion, and then his full weight hit me. He had come, swift as an ar­row, speed­ing over the snow, to fling his weight against the backs of my knees, shoul­der­ing me down as he passed. The force of his mo­mentum threw me onto my face in the snow. I lif­ted my head and got my arms un­der me as he wheeled tightly and raced up to me again. I flung up an arm but he ploughed over me again, sharp claws dig­ging into my flesh for pur­chase as he ran. Got you, got you, got you! Glor­i­ous ex­uber­ance.

  Halfway to my feet, and he hit me again, full in my chest. I flung up a fore­arm to shield my throat and face and he seized it in his jaws. He growled deeply as he mock-wor­ried it. I lost my bal­ance un­der his at­tack and went down in the snow. This time I kept a grip on him, hug­ging him to me, and we rolled over and over and over. He nipped me in a dozen places, some pain­ful, and all the time, Fun, fun, fun, got you, got you, and got you again! Here, you’re dead, here, I broke your fore­paw, there your blood runs out! Got you, got you, got you!