FF3 Assassin’s Fate

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FF3 Assassin’s Fate Page 48

by Robin Hobb


  I did not think it would be wise to say anything to this. I stood silent and waiting.

  A long breath was blown out through her nostrils, a deep thrumming in her throat accompanying it. She shuddered her scaled skin, resettled her wings and ordered me, ‘Lead me to the docks. I will speak as we go. Then I will feed. It is difficult to speak simply to a human, and almost impossible when I am hungry.’

  So reassuring to hear. I pitched my voice to carry. ‘I believe it has been long since a dragon of your magnificent size descended here. Queen Etta of the Pirate Isles has provided well for your feeding.’

  ‘And we are honoured, most beauteous queen! Azure and amazing you are!’ Wintrow charged past the queen’s guard and descended the steps to the furrowed green. He flourished an extravagant bow to Tintaglia. ‘Perhaps you remember me, glorious one? My sister is Queen Malta of the Dragon Traders of Kelsingra. My younger brother, Selden, has often sung your praises to me.’

  ‘Selden,’ Tintaglia said, and her eyes whirled in sudden pleasure. ‘Yes, that is a name I well recall. Such a sweet dragon-singer! Is he here?’

  ‘I am saddened to tell you that he is not. And even more mortified to hear that our landing area was inadequate!’

  Queen Etta had caught Wintrow’s desperate hints. She stepped forward. ‘Guards! Clear a path for our extraordinary guest and offer her an escort of honour to the cattle-pen. See that fresh water fills the troughs for her!’ A flick of her fingers, and her personal guard peeled away from her and dashed across the green. With sheathed swords, they began to nudge a wide corridor through the gaping mob.

  A shimmering of colours down Tintaglia’s neck and a rippling of the frills at her jaw indicated, I hoped, her pleasure. ‘A fine welcome,’ she decided. ‘I am pleased.’

  Wintrow once more swept his elegant bow and with a sideways glance at me, walked a backwards retreat.

  Tintaglia’s attention returned to me, and a sensation like a heavy blanket dropped over me. I kept my walls tight against her glamor as she advanced on the avenue the guard had opened in the crowd.

  Walking alongside her was challenging. Her pace was neither a human stroll nor a dash. It had been long since I’d been forced to trot so hastily. I glanced back to see Lant and Per following at a safe distance. Spark was guiding Amber toward the portico.

  ‘You,’ Tintaglia rumbled, almost quietly. Her tail lashed the ground as she walked, like a lazy cat’s tail. ‘Presumptuously, you asked me for information in Kelsingra. However, I have cornered IceFyre, and wrung from him with shame and threats much that he should have shared with us years ago. Even Heeby has more courage than he!’

  ‘Your surmise was correct. Whites and their Servants have done great injury to dragonkind. I burn with fury to think that generations of them believed they could wrong us without consequences! That shame is due entirely to IceFyre’s cowardice, but I have no belief that he will act. So I will.’

  We had reached the warehouse district, an older quarter of Divvytown where the streets were narrower. I walked uncomfortably close to Tintaglia, and several times heard crashes as her lashing tail encountered the fronts of the buildings. If there had been people here, the scurrying guards had cleared them away.

  ‘Understand, Farseer, this vengeance belongs to me. No mere human can deliver the punishment that Clerres deserves. When we come upon it, we will tumble it stone from stone and devour those who have dared to kill dragons, just as we did at Chalced. The satisfaction of those kills belongs to me!’

  ‘Not if I get there first,’ I muttered.

  Abruptly Tintaglia halted. For an instant, I regretted my ill-considered words. But then she lifted her head, snuffing the air. I smelled it, too. The cattle-pen, where animals were held during the loading or unloading of a ship. We were close.

  Emotions battled in me. I wanted my own vengeance. And if the Fool was correct and my daughter lived, I did not want her caught up in a dragon’s furious attacks on Clerres. Could I dissuade Tintaglia? Was there any chance that Paragon would be swifter than a vengeful dragon? My doubts that Bee lived were swept away in fear that I might never know. ‘You will take revenge on the Servants?’

  ‘Did not I just tell you that? Humans. Everything must be repeated!’ She spoke with total disdain. ‘Listen, now, before I go to feed. I tell you this in little pieces for your little mind. Yes. I allow you to go to Clerres. As you rudely asserted, if you arrive before me, you have permission to slaughter as you please. I will not count that as your stealing my kills. Do you understand this favour I grant you?’

  ‘Yes. Yes, I do. But we now think it’s possible that my daughter is still alive. That she might be a prisoner there in Clerres.’

  I might have been one of the flies buzzing on the manure pile for all the heed she gave me. The cattle-pen was before us. The lowing, milling cows had caught her scent. They crowded hard against the walls of the corral. She trumpeted, a fierce, hungry sound that conveyed no words to my mind, and charged forward. Luck, not dexterity, saved me from a blow from her whipping tail.

  Then she was upon the poor trapped beasts, trampling them under her great claws and savaging them with her teeth. She seized one in her jaws and flung the bawling animal aloft. Lant snatched at my sleeve and dragged me back as the cow’s broken body landed in the street close to where I had been. Per’s face was a mask of horror and fascination. The guards who had run ahead to clear her way jeered and roared in the way that some men do when faced with carnage. They were closer than I would have chosen to be, caught up in the barbarity of the moment.

  ‘We should leave her to feed,’ I told Lant and Per.

  We turned and started back the way we had come. More than one building had suffered damage from Tintaglia’s lashing tail. We walked around a splintered loading dock. I moved more slowly than I had, still trying to catch my breath.

  ‘Sir, will you tell me what the dragon has been saying?’ Per demanded.

  My throat was parched dry from my hasty jog to the cattle-pen. I kept it short. ‘She says we have her permission to go to Clerres and kill people there. She also plans her own vengeance on Clerres, when she gets there.’

  Per was nodding in a way that he said he didn’t comprehend it at all. ‘Vengeance for what? Why?’ he asked.

  ‘She didn’t share the details. Evidently the Clerres folk once harmed some dragons. She is insulted that IceFyre never punished them for it. She warned me that all of them are her rightful kills, but that she will permit us our own vengeance. If we get there first.’

  ‘Perhaps the black dragon thought that caving in half of Aslevjal was enough vengeance,’ Lant suggested.

  I shook my head. ‘Tintaglia doesn’t agree.’

  ‘But sir!’ Perseverance caught at my arm. ‘What if the dragon arrives before us? Amber says that Bee is there! She could be hurt or killed by them! They do not seem to make much difference between us. Did you warn her that Bee was there, did you tell her she must be careful?’

  ‘I mentioned that to her.’

  Lant shied to one side as Motley swooped down to land on Per’s shoulder.

  ‘Heeby!’ the bird announced. ‘Sparkling Heeby! Come, come, come! Hurry!’ As quickly as she had perched, she lifted from Per’s shoulder and flew back toward the manor house.

  ‘I’d forgotten Heeby was coming,’ I admitted.

  Per muttered, ‘Only you could forget about a dragon.’ In a louder voice he added, ‘Can we hurry?’

  My pride forced me to do just that. A crowd had reformed around the green before the royal mansion. Per pushed through, boldly shouting, ‘Make a path for Prince FitzChivalry! Make a path!’ I was too breathless to object. The pristine green was now as rumpled as a ploughed field. In the middle of the churned earth, Heeby stood. She wore a glorious harness of gleaming red leather and shining brass, topped with a sort of box: a perch for a rider. Hunger and weariness radiated from her like heat from a stove. She was making a sound in her throat as she breathed, as if an immense k
ettle were about to come to a boil.

  In the portico of the manor, Queen Etta, Kennitsson and Wintrow stood, with Amber and Spark to one side at a respectful distance. A rank of fresh guards, staves at the ready, stood between the queen and her uninvited guest. On a lower step, but so tall he was not looking up at them, clad all in scarlet leather and armour, was an Elderling. ‘Rapskal is here!’ Per exclaimed in a mixture of surprise and dread. The Elderling was gesticulating grandly and as we circled well away from Heeby and approached the manor, I caught his words.

  ‘… and a night and a day, until we came here. We have travelled far, all the way from Kelsingra in the Rain Wilds. My dragon and I bear important tidings for FitzChivalry Farseer. If live meat could be found for her, I would be grateful. Please.’

  I had never heard General Rapskal so courteous, but it seemed that for Heeby he could humble himself and beg. Wintrow leaned closer to Queen Etta and said something softly. She did not look pleased, but issued her command. ‘Bring her three goats. Let her have them here; the green is ruined anyway.’

  ‘And you are wise, Queen Etta, to let her feed at a safe distance from Tintaglia. I am grateful.’ Rapskal looked over his shoulder at his impatient dragon and his face softened with fondness. ‘She is so hungry, and I have asked so much of her, to carry me so far. And we have farther yet to go, all the way to Others’ Island. And then Clerres.’ He saw me then and turned away from Etta, exclaiming, ‘FitzChivalry, there you are! I bring you important tidings!’

  I advanced hastily. ‘Tintaglia has shared them with me already, General Rapskal. I am surprised to see you here.’

  ‘As are we all,’ Queen Etta announced icily. ‘Especially since you have not yet shared with me the reason for this … visit.’ There was no mistaking her displeasure. But just as unnerving to me was how Kennitsson was staring at Heeby. He suddenly stepped down, past the startled guard and even past Rapskal, and walked directly toward her.

  My breath caught in my throat. The dragon was hungry and he was a stranger. But she only twisted her head at him and regarded him with gently whirling eyes.

  ‘Bring this wondrous dragon a tub of water!’ he commanded suddenly. ‘She is parched with thirst! No creature so glorious should suffer such privation! And where are the goats? Should not they be here by now? Bring her one of the brown bullocks as well! She is famished!’ And the idiot approached the hungry dragon, his hand outstretched.

  A murmur of dismay and consternation rose from the gathered crowd. Etta’s mouth hung slightly ajar in breathless fear.

  ‘No!’ Wintrow cried, starting forward. I expected Rapskal to leap forward to save the prince. But although the Elderling was in motion, he was coming across the green toward me. I noticed Sorcor moving swiftly and too late to shadow Kennitsson’s movement. Heeby would eat the prince.

  But Heeby only extended her head until her scaled snout touched Kennitsson’s hand. My breath eased out of me. I wondered if Kennitsson’s display had been true bravery or if he had fallen prey to the dragon’s glamor.

  He lifted his other hand and set it to her face. ‘Lovely one!’ the prince said, and the dragon lowered her head to allow him to scratch her brow.

  A sigh, a murmur of approval from the gathered throng, told me what I had not guessed before: the people of the Pirate Isles adored their prince. I might have seen him as spoiled man-boy, but his flair of elegance and this show of bravado dazzled the crowd. As the goats came blatting around the corner of the manor house, Heeby lifted her head and looked over her shoulder at them.

  ‘Go!’ the prince bade her. ‘Satisfy your hunger, you beauteous thing!’ He stood fearlessly as she spun and leapt. For the second time that day, I watched a dragon make a kill and listened to a roar of approval from the crowd.

  ‘Ware!’ Lant muttered, stepping up beside me, and Per quickly moved to my other flank as Rapskal approached, his hand extended to clasp wrists with me. A wide smile of white teeth looked peculiar in his scarlet-scaled face. I met his hand, but he did not release it after our clasp. Instead he tugged at me as if I had forgotten my manners. ‘Don’t stand there, FitzChivalry! I must present myself to their queen.’ He lifted his voice to cry, ‘Enjoy your meal, Heeby, my glorious one! Prince, thank you for such a kind greeting! Now that my dragon is well tended, I shall convey to FitzChivalry all that he must know.’

  He took my arm and I let him. We advanced together across the dragon-torn turf, Lant and Per close behind us. A bullock bellowed in alarm and I turned to see the poor panicked creature being dragged and chivvied toward the dragon.

  ‘Release it!’ Kennitsson bellowed, and they did. The cattle-boys barely evaded the dragon’s charge as bullock and predator savaged another half-acre of garden. This bullock was a fighter and his horns had not been removed. He made several attempts to gore Heeby. She sprang into the air and came down on him with all four feet, a cat pouncing on a mouse. His bellow ended in a terrible wet crunch. Per made a sound of dismay but the mob shouted with piratical amusement. Rapskal could not have planned a better entertainment for them than bull-baiting in the queen’s garden. The prince lifted his arms wide overhead in triumph and shouted, ‘Fear her not, my people! This scarlet beauty has come in friendship!’

  The crowd’s resounding approval was deafening.

  Queen Etta and her party had retreated slightly from the steps, but Wintrow had remained on the portico and was gesturing to us to join them. Rapskal and I reached the wide white steps and ascended them to where Queen Etta stood transfixed by her son’s spectacle. I heard her whisper softly, ‘He has his father’s gift for winning hearts. This is good.’

  We climbed more steps to where a stiffly smiling Wintrow posed. Amber and Spark awaited us there, faces frozen in uncertainty.

  ‘What is this about?’ he demanded in a low voice while greeting me in apparently affable fashion. ‘What chaos have you brought to our doorstep, FitzChivalry? A mad ship, stealing our prince for your mission of vengeance and now dragons on our green?’

  Etta kept her eyes on her son. ‘Stand down, Wintrow. We appear to be establishing diplomatic relations with the Rain Wilds.’ She gave Wintrow a sideways glance. ‘I think the prince who befriends dragons may deserve a bride that comes with a larger dowry.’ She lifted her hand from her sword hilt and turned her smile toward Rapskal. There was a lilt of amusement in her voice. ‘Greetings. I am Queen Etta of the Pirate Isles. This is my chief minister and admiral, Wintrow Vestrit.’

  ‘Names well known to me.’ Rapskal offered them a bow. ‘I am General Rapskal of the Dragon Traders of Kelsingra. No diplomat, I fear, most gracious queen, but a loyal messenger for the dragons.’ He still had a firm hold on my arm and he patted it fondly. ‘When Prince FitzChivalry visited us, he wished to know if the history of the dragons intersected with that of the Servants of the pale folk. We have obtained that information from IceFyre, and it is of great importance that he know that his vengeance may align with ours, but does not supersede it.’ He turned to me and added, ‘I assure you that I can convey the information much more concisely than Tintaglia, and without her impatience.’

  ‘How comforting,’ I replied, and to my surprise, that won a soft chuckle from Queen Etta.

  ‘Doubtless you can then tell me, swiftly and clearly, what an invasion of dragons has to do with this man’s mission to rescue his daughter.’

  ‘A coincidence of fate!’ Rapskal assured her. ‘But I beg you, may I have food and drink before I begin my telling?’

  Wintrow chose a smile. ‘Please, enter. I’ll be with you shortly. I must issue a few orders to the guards. Few of them are familiar with dragons. But I’ve had enough interactions with them to know that careless words or deeds can bring death.’

  ‘Ask my son to attend me,’ Etta directed him.

  ‘Oh, he will not wish to leave Heeby,’ Rapskal informed her familiarly and fondly. ‘I saw the look on his face and sensed her approval of him. He will stay by her while she is feeding, and possibly while she sle
eps as well.’

  Wintrow was nodding. ‘Likely it will be as he says. They are enamoured of one another. She had much the same effect on my brother Selden. She will be unlikely to harm him. And the citizens are taking great pleasure in watching their prince befriend a dragon.’ The queen’s expression did not change. ‘Nonetheless, I will invite him.’ Wintrow assured her and left us. Rapskal hooked his arm firmly through mine, a gesture I thoroughly disliked. We followed Queen Etta. I did not like how her guard closed in around us but I held my tongue. As it was with dragons, so it is with queens. A careless word or deed could have severe consequences.

  Inside the royal mansion, it was cooler and dimmer. Everywhere I looked, a history of pirate looting prevailed in tapestries and statuary, exotic draperies and foreign treasures. There was a remarkable lack of formality as the queen herself guided us to a sitting room. ‘Find food and drink,’ she commanded one of her servants.

  ‘Oh, I would be so grateful for that,’ Rapskal responded. He turned his attention back to me. ‘Heeby could not keep pace with Tintaglia, try as she might. We knew Tintaglia would not wait for us. Our errand is urgent, with little time to spare, even to give this message.’

  The queen had taken her seat at the head of a very long table. There were more than enough chairs for all of us. I manoeuvred Rapskal so that he sat at Etta’s left hand and took a chair next to him, leaving a place for Amber beside me. Lant took the next place and after some uncertainty, Spark and Per took chairs. They exchanged a look; seated at a pirate queen’s table!

  Queen Etta let her gaze rove over all of us. ‘Welcome to my home,’ she said.

  The sarcasm in her greeting was wasted on the Elderling.

  ‘You are so gracious,’ Rapskal replied artlessly. ‘And far more beautiful than I expected! Oh, and here is the refreshment you sent for. I am so parched and so hungry.’ As soon as the serving woman had filled his glass, he lifted it and drank deeply.

  For a moment, she stared at him. I waited for her to rebuke him for his ill manners. Instead she suddenly leaned back on one arm of her chair. I saw the pirate who had become a queen as she said, ‘And you are much more forthright and simple than I expected an envoy to be.’

 

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