The Complete Farseer Trilogy Omnibus

by Robin Hobb

  The pitiful bodies were carried in, a heart-breaking stream of them. I did not count how many. More than I had expected, more than Verity’s reports had led us to believe. I followed behind Kettricken, and carried the basin of warm, scented water as she moved from body to body, and gently bathed each ravaged face and closed tormented eyes forever. Behind us came others, a snaking procession as each body was undressed gently, completely bathed, hair combed, and wound in clean cloth. At some point I became aware that Verity was there, a young scribe beside him, going from body to body, taking down the names of those few who were recognized, writing briefly of every other.

  One name I supplied him myself: Kerry. The last Molly and I had known of this street boy, he had gone off as a puppeteer’s apprentice. He’d ended his days as little more than a puppet. His laughing mouth was stilled forever. As boys, we’d run errands together, to earn a penny or two. He’d been beside me the first time I got puking drunk, and laughed until his own stomach betrayed him. He’d wedged the rotten fish in the trestles of the tavern-keeper’s table, the one who had accused us of stealing. The days we had shared I alone would remember now. I suddenly felt less real. Part of my past, Forged away from me.

  When we were finished, and stood silently looking at the tables of bodies, Verity stepped forward, to read his tally aloud in the silence. The names were few, but he did not neglect those unknown. ‘A young man, newly bearded, dark hair, the scars of fishing on his hands …’ he said of one, and of another, ‘A woman, curly haired and comely, tattooed with the puppeteers’ guild sign.’ We listened to the litany of those we had lost, and if any did not weep, they had hearts of stone. As a people, we lifted our dead and carried them to the funeral pyre, to set them carefully upon this last bed. Verity himself brought the torch for the kindling, but he handed it to the Queen who waited beside the pyre. As she set flame to the pitch-laden boughs, she cried out to the dark skies, ‘You shall not be forgotten!’ All echoed her with a shout. Blade, the old sergeant, stood beside the pyre with shears, to take from every soldier a finger’s length lock of hair, a symbol of the mourning for a fallen comrade. Verity joined the queue, and Kettricken stood behind him, to offer up a pale lock of her own hair.

  There followed a night such as I had never known. Most of Buckkeep Town came to the keep that night, and were admitted without question. All followed the Queen’s example and kept a watching fast until the pyre had burned itself to ash and bone. Then the Great Hall and the Lesser were filled, and planks laid as tables outside in the courtyard for those who could not crowd within. Kegs of drink were rolled out, and such a setting out of bread and roasted meat and other viands as I had not even imagined that Buckkeep possessed. Later I was to learn that much of it had simply come up from the town, unsought but offered freely.

  The King descended, as he had not for some weeks, to sit in his throne at the high table and preside over the gathering. The Fool came too, to stand beside and behind his chair and accept from his plate whatever the King offered. But this night he made not merry for the King; his fool’s prattle was stilled, and even the bells on his cap and sleeves had been tied in strips of fabric to mute them. Only once did our eyes meet that night, but for me, the glance carried no discernible message. To the King’s right was Verity, to his left Kettricken. Regal was there, too, of course, in so sumptuous a costume of black that only the colour denoted any sort of mourning. He scowled and sulked and drank, and I suppose for some his surly silence passed for grieving. For me, I could sense the anger seething within him, and knew that someone, somewhere would pay for what he saw as insult to himself. Even Patience was there, her appearance as rare as the King’s, and I sensed the unity of purpose we displayed.

  The King ate but little. He waited until those at the high table were filled before he arose to speak. As he spoke, his words were repeated at the lower tables, and in the Lesser Hall, and even outside in the courtyard by minstrels. He spoke briefly of those we had lost to the Red Ships. He said nothing of Forging, or of the day’s task of hunting down and killing the Forged ones. He spoke instead as if they had but recently died in a battle against the Red Ships, and said only that we must remember them. Then, pleading fatigue and grief, he left the table to return to his own chambers.

  Then it was that Verity arose. He did little more than to repeat Kettricken’s words of earlier, that we grieved now, but when the grieving was over, we must make ready our vengeance. He lacked the fire and passion of Kettricken’s earlier speech, but I could see all at table responding to it. Folk nodded and began to talk amongst themselves, while Regal sat and glowered silently. Verity and Kettricken left the table late that night, she on his arm, and they made sure that all marked how they left together. Regal remained, drinking and muttering to himself. I myself slipped away shortly after Verity and Kettricken left, to seek my own bed.

  I made no attempt to fall asleep, but only flung myself on my bed to stare into the fire. When the concealed door opened, I rose immediately to ascend to Chade’s chambers. I found him ajitter with an infectious excitement. There was even a pinkness to his pale cheeks about his pock scars. His grey hair was wild, his green eyes glittered like gems. He was pacing about his chambers, and as I entered, he actually seized me in a rough embrace. He stepped back and laughed aloud at my shocked expression.

  ‘She was born to rule! Born to it, and somehow now she has awakened to it! It could not have come at a better time! She may yet save us all!’

  His exultation was unholy in its glee.

  ‘I know not how many folk died today,’ I rebuked him.

  ‘Ah! But not in vain! At least not in vain! Those were not wasted deaths, FitzChivalry. By El and Eda, Kettricken has the instinct and the grace! I had not suspected it in her. Now had we still your father alive, boy, and him paired with her on the throne, we could have a pair as could cup the whole world in their hands.’ He took another sip of his wine and paced again about his chambers. I had never seen him so elated. He all but capered. A covered basket rested on a table close to hand, and its contents had been set out on a cloth. Wine, cheese, sausages, pickles and bread. So even here in his tower, Chade shared the funeral feast. Slink the weasel popped up from the other side of the table, to regard me past the food with avaricious eyes. Chade’s voice broke me from my thoughts.

  ‘She has an ample share of what Chivalry had. The instinct for seizing the moment and turning it to advantage. She took an unavoidable, unmentionable situation and made high tragedy of what might have been simple slaughter in lesser hands. Boy, we have a queen, a queen again at Buckkeep!’

  I felt slightly repulsed by his joy. And, for an instant, cheated. Hesitantly, I asked, ‘Do you think, really, that the Queen did as she did for show? That it was all a calculated political move?’

  He halted in his tracks, considered briefly. ‘No. No, FitzChivalry, I believe she acted from her heart. But that does not make it any less tactically brilliant. Ah, you think me heartless. Or callous in my ignorance. The truth is, I know only too well. Know far better than you what today meant to us. I know men died today. I even know that six of our own force took injuries, mostly minor, in today’s action. I can tell you how many Forged ones fell, and within a day or so, I expect to know most of their names. Names already listed by me, included in the tallies of all the Red Ships have done to us. It will be I, boy, who sees that the purses of blood-gold are paid to surviving kin. Those families will be told the King regards their fallen as the equal of any of his soldiers who fall in battle with the Red Ships. And entreats their aid in taking vengeance for them. They will not be pleasant letters to pen, Fitz. But pen them I shall, in Verity’s own hand, for Shrewd’s signature. Or did you think I did naught but kill for my king?’

  ‘I beg pardon. It was just that you seemed so merry when first I entered …’ I began.

  ‘And merry I am! As you should be. We have been rudderless and drifted, pounded by the waves and pushed by every wind. And now, comes a woman, to take the till
er and cry the course. I find it a course full to my liking! As shall everyone in the kingdom who has sickened these past years from being always on our knees. We rise, boy, we rise to fight!’

  I saw then how his ebullience was borne on the wave of his fury and his grief. I remembered the expression he had worn when first we rode into Forge town on that black day and saw what the Raiders had left of our folk. He had told me then that I would learn to care, that it was in my blood. With a rush I felt the rightness of his sentiment, and seized up a glass to join him. Together we toasted our queen. Then Chade grew more sober, and divulged the reason for his summons. The King, Shrewd himself, had once more repeated his order that I watch over Kettricken.

  ‘I’ve been meaning to speak to you about that; that Shrewd sometimes now repeats an order already given or a comment already made.’

  ‘I’m aware enough of that, Fitz. What can be done, is. But the King’s health is another topic for another time. For now, I myself assure you that his repetition was not the rattling of a sickly mind. No. The King made this request again today, as he was preparing himself to descend to dinner. He repeats it to make sure your efforts will be redoubled. He sees, as I do, that by arousing folk to follow her, the Queen puts herself more at risk. Though he would not speak it so plain. Be on your guard for her safety.’

  ‘Regal,’ I snorted.

  ‘Prince Regal?’ Chade queried.

  ‘He is who we have to fear, especially now that the Queen has taken a place of power.’

  ‘I said nothing of the kind. Nor should you,’ Chade observed quietly. His voice was calm but his face was severe.

  ‘Why not?’ I challenged him. ‘Why may not we, at least once, speak plain to one another?’

  ‘To one another, we might, if we were entirely alone and it concerned only you and I. But such is not the case. We are King’s Men sworn, and King’s Men do not entertain even thoughts of treason, let alone …’

  There was a gagging noise, and Slink disgorged himself. On the table, beside the food basket. He snorted, spraying drops of moisture.

  ‘Greedy little wretch! Choked yourself, did you?' Chade rebuked him unconcernedly.

  I found a rag to clean up the mess. But when I got there, Slink was lying on his side, panting, while Chade poked at the vomit with a skewer. I nearly retched myself. He waved my rag aside, picking up Slink instead and handing me the shivering creature. ‘Calm him, and get water down him,’ he directed me tersely. ‘Go on, old man, go to Fitz, he’ll see to you.’ This to the weasel.

  I carried him over by the fire, where he promptly puked all down my shirt. At closer range, the smell was overpowering. As I set him down and pulled my shirt off, I caught an underlying scent, more bitter than vomit even. Even as I opened my mouth to speak, Chade confirmed my suspicions. ‘Varta leaves. Crushed fine. The spiciness of the sausage would conceal the taste well. Let’s hope the wine wasn’t poisoned as well, or we’re both dead.’

  Every hair on my body stood up in horror. Chade looked up to see me frozen, and pushed gently past me to pick Slink up. He offered him a saucer of water and looked pleased when Slink sampled it. ‘I think he’ll live. The little pig stuffed his mouth full, and got a better taste of it than a human would have. Up it came. The stuff on the table looks chewed, but not digested. I think the taste made him gag, not the poison.’

  ‘I hope so,’ I said faintly. Every one of my nerves was tuned to an inner waiting. Had I been poisoned? Did I feel sleepy, nauseous, dizzy? Was my mouth numb, dry, watering? I broke out in a sudden sweat and began to tremble. Not again.

  ‘Stop it,’ Chade said quietly. ‘Sit down. Drink some water. You’re doing this to yourself, Fitz. That bottle was well sealed with an old cork. If the wine was poisoned, it was done years ago. I know of few men with the patience to poison a bottle of wine, and then age it. I think we’re fine.’

  I drew a shaky breath. ‘But such was not someone’s intent. Who brought your food?’

  Chade gave a snort. ‘I prepared my own food, as always. But that on the table was from a gift basket left for Lady Thyme. From time to time, folk seek to curry favour with her, as it is rumoured she has the King’s ear. I did not think my masquerade woman a likely target for poison.’

  ‘Regal,’ I said again. ‘I told you he believes she is the King’s poisoner. How could you have been so careless? You know he blames Lady Thyme for his mother’s death! Shall we be so polite as to let him kill us all? He will not stop until the throne is his.’

  ‘And I tell you again, I will hear nothing of treason!’ Chade all but shouted the words. He sat down in his chair and cradled Slink in his lap. The little beast sat up, tidied his whiskers, and then curled up again to compose himself for sleep. I watched Chade’s pale hand, the standing tendons, the paper skin, as he stroked his small pet. He looked only at the weasel, his face closed. After a moment, he spoke more calmly. ‘I think our king was right. We should all redouble our caution. And not just for Kettricken. Or ourselves.’ He lifted tortured eyes to mine. ‘Watch over your women, boy. Neither innocence nor ignorance is any protection against this night’s work. Patience, Molly, even Lacey. Find a way, a subtle way, to give Burrich warning as well.’ He sighed, asked of no one, ‘Have we not enemies enough outside our walls?’

  ‘Aplenty,’ I assured him. But I said no more of Regal to him.

  He shook his head. ‘This is an ill way for me to begin a journey.’

  ‘A journey? You?’ I was incredulous. Chade almost never left the keep. ‘Where?’

  ‘Where I need to go. Now I think I need almost as much to stay.’ He shook his head to himself. ‘Take care of yourself while I’m gone, boy. I won’t be about to watch over you.’ And that was as much as he would tell me.

  When I left him, he was still staring into the fire, his lax hands sheltering Slink. I went down the stairs on jelly legs. The attempt on Chade had shaken me more than anything ever had. Not even the secret of his existence had been enough to shield him. And there were other, easier targets, just as close to my heart.

  I damned the bravado that had earlier let me make Regal aware of how much stronger I had grown. I had been a fool to tempt him to attack me, I should have known he would find a less obvious target. In my room, I changed hastily into fresh clothing. Then I left my chamber, climbed the stairs and went straight to Molly’s bedchamber. I tapped lightly on the door.

  No answer. I did not tap louder. It lacked but an hour or two until dawn, most of the keep was exhausted, abed. Still, I had no desire to rouse the wrong person to see me at Molly’s door. Yet I had to know.

  Her door was latched, but it was a simple one. I slipped it in a matter of seconds, and made note to myself that she would have a better one before tomorrow night. Soft as shadow, I entered her room and drew the door closed behind me.

  A fire had burned low in the hearth. Its lingering embers cast an uncertain haze of light. I stood still a moment, letting my eyes adjust, then I moved carefully into the room, staying away from the hearth light. I could hear the steady sleep rhythm of Molly’s breath from her bed. It should have been enough for me. But I teased myself that she might be fevered and sinking even now into a death sleep from poison. I promised myself that I would do no more than touch her pillow, just to see if her skin were fevered or normal. No more than that. I drifted to the bedside.

  I could just make out her shape under the covers in the dim light. She smelled heathery and warm and sweet. Healthy. No feverish poison victim slept here. I knew I should go. ‘Sleep well,’ I breathed.

  Silently she sprang up at me. The ember light ran red along the blade in her hand. ‘Molly!’ I cried as I parried her knife hand aside with the back of my forearm. She froze, her other hand drawn back in a fist, and for an instant all in the room was silent and motionless. Then, ‘Newboy!’ she hissed furiously, and punched me in the belly with her left hand. As I doubled over, gasping for air, she rolled from the bed. ‘You idiot! You frightened me to death! What do you thin
k you’re about, rattling at my latch and sneaking about in my room! I should call the keep guardsmen to put you out!’

  ‘No!’ I begged, as she threw wood on the fire, and then kindled a candle at it. ‘Please. I’ll go. I meant no harm or offence. I just wanted to be sure you were all right.’

  ‘Well, I’m not!’ she stormed in a whisper. Her hair was confined for the night into two thick braids, reminding me sharply of the little girl I had met so long ago. A girl no longer. She caught me staring at her. She threw a heavier robe about her shoulders and belted it at her waist. ‘I’m a shaking wreck! I shan’t sleep another wink tonight! You’ve been drinking, haven’t you? Are you drunk, then? What do you want?’

  She advanced on me with the candle as if it were a weapon. ‘No,’ I assured her. I drew myself upright and tugged my shirt straight. ‘I promise you, I’m not drunk. And truly, I had no bad intentions. But … something happened tonight, something that made me worry that something bad might happen to you, so I thought I had best come and make sure you were all right, but I knew Patience would not approve, and I certainly didn’t want to go waking up the whole keep, so I thought I would just slip in and …’

  ‘Newboy. You’re babbling,’ she informed me icily.

  It was true. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said again, and sat down on the corner of the bed.

  ‘Don’t get comfortable,’ she warned me. ‘You were just leaving. Alone, or with the keep guards. Your choice.’