by Robin Hobb
A disease was eating King Shrewd, gnawing him away from the inside. He drugged himself against the pain. In an effort to have some corner of his mind to himself, a place where the pain could not come and rob him. If someone had just told me of that a few hours ago, I would have scoffed. Now, lying on my bed, trying to breathe softly because the slightest movement triggered another wave of agony, I could understand. Pain. I'd only been enduring this for a few minutes, and I'd already sent the Fool running for elfbark. Another consideration pushed itself into my mind. I expected this pain to pass, that by tomorrow I would rise up free from it. What if I had to face it every moment for the rest of my life, with the certainty that it was devouring what hours were left to me? No wonder Shrewd kept himself drugged.
I heard my door open and close quietly. When I did not hear the Fool begin to make tea, I forced my eyes open. Justin and Serene stood inside the doors of my room. They stood frozen, as if in the lair of a savage beast. When I shifted my head slightly to look at them, Serene's lips actually drew back as if she snarled. Within me, Nighteyes snarled back. The tempo of my heart suddenly increased. Danger here. I tried to loosen my muscles, to be ready to take any action. But the pain bludgeoning my head bade me only be still, be still. "I didn't hear your knock," I managed to say. Each word was edged in red as my voice echoed in my skull.
"I didn't knock," Serene said harshly. Her clearly spoken words were as painful to me as a clubbing. I prayed she didn't know how much power she had over me just then. I prayed for the Fool to come back. I tried to appear nonchalant, as if I kept to my bed only because I considered Serene's visit so unimportant.
"Did you need something from me?" I sounded brusque. In reality, each word cost too much effort to waste even one.
"Need? Never," Serene scoffed.
Skill 'nudged me. Clumsily. Justin, prodding at me. I could not repress the shudder that went through me. My king's use of me had left my mind as raw as a bleeding wound. Justin's awkward Skilling was like having cat's claws rake my brain.
Shield yourself. Verity was a whisper. I made an effort to set my guards, but could not find enough of myself to do it. Serene was smiling.
Justin was pushing into my mind like a hand shoving into a pudding. My senses jumbled suddenly. He smelled foul in my head, he was a terrible rotten greenish yellow and sounded like spurs jingling. Shield, Verity pleaded. He sounded desperate, weak, and I knew he was trying very hard to hold the tattered pieces of myself together for me. He's going to kill you with sheer stupidity. He doesn't even know what he's doing.
Help me!
From Verity, nothing. Our link was fading like perfume in the wind as my strength dwindled.
WE ARE PACK!
Justin slammed back against the door of my room so hard his head bounced. It was more than repelling. I had no word for what Nighteyes did from within Justin's own mind. It was a hybrid magic, Nighteyes using the Wit through a bridge the Skill had created. He attacked Justin's body from within Justin's mind. Justin's hands flew to his throat, fighting jaws he could not seize. Claws shredded skin and raised red welts on the skin beneath Justin's fine tunic. Serene screamed, a sword of a sound slashing through me, and flung herself on Justin, trying to help him.
Don't kill. Don't kill! DON'T KILL!
Nighteyes finally heard me. He dropped Justin, flinging him aside like a rat. He came and stood astraddle me, guarding me. Almost I could hear his panting breath, feel the warmth of his hide. I had no energy to question what had happened. I curled myself into a puppy, sheltered beneath him. I knew no one could get through Nighteyes' defense of me.
"What was that? What was that? What was that?" Serene was screaming hysterically. She had Justin by the shirtfront and had dragged him to his feet. There were livid marks on his throat and chest, but through barely opened eyes, I could see them fading rapidly. Soon there was no sign of Nighteyes' attack save the wet stain spreading down the front of Justin's trousers. His eyes sagged closed. Serene shook him like a doll. "Justin! Open your eyes. Justin!"
"What are you doing to that man?" The Fool's stage voice, expressing outrage and surprise, filled my room. Behind him, my door stood open wide. A passing maid, arms full of shirts, peeped in, startled, then stopped to stare. The little page girl carrying a basket behind her came hurrying to peek around the door's edge. The Fool set the tray he was carrying down on the floor and came into my room. "What is the meaning of this?"
"He attacked Justin," Serene sobbed.
Disbelief flooded the Fool's face. "Him? He looks like he could not attack a pillow. You were the one I saw worrying that boy. "
Serene let go of Justin's collar, and he dropped like a rag at her feet. The Fool looked down at him pityingly.
"Poor fellow! Was she trying to force herself on you?"
"Don't be ridiculous!" Serene was outraged. "It was him!" She pointed at me.
The Fool looked at me consideringly. "This is a grave accusation. Answer me truthfully, Bastard. Was she really trying to force herself on you?"
"No." My voice came out like I felt. Sick, exhausted and groggy. "I was sleeping. They came quietly into my room. Then ..." I knit my brows, and let my voice trail off. "I think I have had too much Smoke this night."
"And I agree!" There was fine disdain in the Fool's voice. "Such an unseemly show of lust I have seldom seen!" The Fool spun suddenly on the peeping page and maid. "This shames all of Buckkeep! To find our own Skilled ones behaving so. I charge you to speak of this to no one. Let no gossip about this begin." He turned back suddenly on Serene and Justin. Serene's face was flooded scarlet, her mouth open in outrage. Justin pulled himself to a sitting position at her feet and sat, swaying. He clutched at her skirts like a toddler trying to stand.
"I do not lust after this man," she said coldly and clearly. "Nor did I attack him."
"Well, whatever it is you are doing, it were better done in your own chambers!" The Fool cut across her words sternly. Without another glance at her, he turned, picked up his tray, and bore it off down the hallway. At the sight of the elfbark tea departing, I could not contain a groan of despair. Serene spun back to me, lips drawn back in a grimace.
"I will get to the bottom of this!" she snarled at me.
I took a breath. "But in your own chambers, please." I managed to lift a hand and point at the open door. She stormed out, with Justin staggering along in her wake. The maid and page drew back in distaste from them as they passed. My chamber door was left standing ajar. It took a vast effort to rise and go close it. I felt as if my head were something I balanced on my shoulders. Once the door was closed, I didn't even try to return to bed, but just slid down the wall to sit with my back to the door. I felt raw,.
My brother. Are you dying?
No. But it hurts.
Rest. I will stand watch.
I cannot explain what happened next. I let go of something, something I had clutched all my life without being aware of gripping it. I sank down into soft warm darkness, into a safe place, while a wolf kept watch through my eyes.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Burrich
LADY PATIENCE, SHE who was queen-in-waiting to Chivalry's king-in-waiting, came originally of inland stock. Her parents, Lord Oakdell and Lady Averia, were of very minor nobility. For their daughter to rise in rank to marry a Prince of the realm had to have been a shock to them, especially given their daughter's wayward and, some might say, obtuse nature. Chivalry's avowed ambition to wed Lady Patience was the cause of his first difference with his father, King Shrewd. By this marriage, he gained no valuable alliances or political advantages; only a highly eccentric woman whose great love for her husband did not preclude her forthright declaring of unpopular opinions. Nor did it dissuade her from the single-minded pursuit of any avocation that caught her fleeting fancy. Her parents preceded her in death, dying in the year of the Blood Plague, and she was childless and presumed barren when her husband, Chivalry, fell to his death from a horse.
I awoke. Or,
at least, I came back to myself. I was in my bed, surrounded by warmth and gentleness. I didn't move, but cautiously searched myself for pain. My head no longer pounded, but I felt tired and achy, stiff as one sometimes is after pain passes. A shiver went up my back. Molly was naked beside me, breathing gently against my shoulder. The fire had burned low, nearly out. I listened. It was either very very late, or very early. The Keep was near silent.
I didn't remember getting here.
I shivered again. Beside me, Molly stirred. She pulled closer to me, smiled sleepily. "You are so strange sometimes," she breathed. "But I love you." She closed her eyes again.
Nighteyes!
I am here. He was always there.
Suddenly I couldn't ask, I didn't want to know. I just lay still, feeling sick and sad and sorry for myself.
I tried to rouse you, but you were not ready to come back. That Other One had drained you.
That "Other One" is our king.
Your king. Wolves have no kings.
What did ... I let the thought trail off. Thank you for guarding me.
He sensed my reservations. What should I have done? Turned her away? She was grieving.
I don't know. Let us not talk of it. Molly was sad, and he had comforted her? I didn't even know why she was sad. Had been sad, l amended, looking at the soft smile on her sleeping face. I sighed. Better face it sooner than later. Besides, I had to send her back to her own room. It would not do for her to be here when the Keep awoke.
"Molly?" I said gently.
She stirred and opened her eyes. "Fitz," she agreed sleepily.
"For safety's sake, you have to go back to your own room."
"I know. I shouldn't have come in the first place." She stopped. "All those things I said to you a few days ago. I didn't-"
I put a finger across her lips. She smiled past it. "You make these new silences ... very interesting." She pushed my hand aside, kissed me warmly. Then she slid from my bed and began to dress briskly. I arose, moving more slowly. She glanced over at me, her face full of love. "I'll go alone. It's safer. We should not be seen together."
"Someday, that will-" I began. This time she silenced me, small hand on my lips.
"We will talk of nothing like that now. Let us leave tonight as it is. Perfect." She kissed me again, quickly, and slipped from my arms and then out the door. She shut it silently behind her. Perfect?
I finished dressing and built up my fire. I sat down in my chair by the hearth and waited. It was not long before I was rewarded. The entrance to Chade's domain opened. I went up the stairs as quickly as I could manage. Chade was sitting before his hearth. "You have to listen to me," I greeted him. His eyebrows rose in alarm at the intensity in my voice. He gestured at the chair opposite him, and I took it. I opened my mouth to speak. What Chade did then put every hair on my body on end. He glanced all around himself, as if we stood in the midst of a great crowd. Then he touched his own lips, and made a gesture for softness. He leaned toward me until our heads were nearly touching. "Softly, softly. Sit down. What is it.
I sat, in my old place on the hearth. My heart was hammering in my chest. Of all places in Buckkeep, I had never expected to have to use caution in what I said here.
"All right," he breathed out to me. "Report."
I took a breath and began. I left out nothing, revealing my link with Verity so that the entire story would make sense. I put in every detail: the Fool's beating, and Kettricken's offering to Beams, as well as my service to the King that evening. Serene and Justin in my room. When I whispered of Regal's spies, he pursed his mouth, but did not seem overly surprised. When I was finished, he regarded me calmly.
A whisper again. "And what do you conclude from all this?" he asked me, as if it were a puzzle he had set me as a lesson.
"May I speak frankly of my suspicions?" I asked quietly.
A nod.
I sighed in relief. As I spoke of the picture that had emerged for me over the past weeks, I felt a great burden lifting. Chade would know what to do. And so I spoke, quickly, tersely. Regal knew that the King was dying of disease. Wallace was his tool, to keep the King sedated and open to Regal's whisperings. He would discredit Verity, he would strip Buckkeep of every bit of wealth that he could. He would abandon Beams to the Red-Ships, to keep them busy while Regal acted on his own ambitions. Paint Kettricken as a foreigner with ambitions to the throne. A devious, disloyal wife. Gather power to himself. His eventual aim, as ever, was the throne. Or at least as much of the Six Duchies as he could gather to himself. Hence his lavish entertainments for the Inland Dukes and their nobles.
Chade nodded unwillingly as I spoke. When I paused, he injected softly, "There are many holes in this web you say Regal is weaving."
"I can fill in a few," I whispered. "Suppose the coterie that Galen created is loyal to Regal? Suppose all messages go to him first, and only those he approves continue to their intended destination?"
Chade's face grew still and grave.
My whisper grew more desperate. "What if messages are delayed just enough to make our efforts to defend ourselves pathetic? He makes Verity look a fool, he undermines confidence in the man."
"Wouldn't Verity be able to tell?"
I shook my head slowly. "He is powerfully Skilled. But he cannot be listening everywhere at once. The strength of his talent is his ability to focus it so tightly. To spy on his own coterie, he would have had to give off watching the coast waters for Red-Ships."
"Does he ... is Verity aware of this discussion right now?"
I shrugged ashamedly. "I don't know. That is the curse of my flaws. My link with him is erratic. Sometimes I know his mind as clearly as if he stood beside me and spoke it aloud. At other times I am scarcely aware of him at all. Last night, when they spoke through me, I heard every word. Right now ..." I felt about inside myself, a pocket-patting sort of thinking. "I feel nothing more than that we are still linked." I leaned forward and put my head in my hands. I felt drained.
"Tea?" Chade asked me gently.
"Please. And if I could just sit for a bit longer, quietly. I don't know when my head has throbbed this badly."
Chade set the kettle over the fire. I watched with distaste as he mixed brewing herbs for it. Some elfbark, but not near as much as I would have required earlier. Peppermint and catmint leaves. A bit of precious ginger root. I recognized much of what he used to give Verity for his Skill exhaustion. Then he came back to sit close beside me again. "It could not be. What you suggest would require blind loyalty from the coterie to Regal."
"It can be created by one strongly Skilled. My flaw is a result of what Galen did to me. Do you remember Galen's fanatical admiration of Chivalry? That was a created loyalty. Galen could have done it to them, before he died, when he was finishing their training."
Chade shook his head slowly. "Do you think Regal could be so stupid as to think the Red-Ships would stop at Beams? Eventually they will want Buck, they will want Rippon and Shoaks. Where does that leave him?"
"With the Inland Duchies. The only ones he cares about, the only ones with which he has a mutual loyalty. It would give him a vast perimeter of land as an insulation against anything the Red-Ships might do. And like you, perhaps, he may believe they are not after territory, but only a raiding grounds. They are sea folk. They will not come that far inland to trouble him. And the Coastal Duchies will be too busy fighting the Red-Ships to turn on Regal."
"If the Six Duchies loses her seacoast, she loses her trade, her shipping. How pleased will his Inland Dukes be with that?"
I shrugged. "I do not know. I have not all the answers, Chade. But this is the only theory I've been able to put together in which almost all the pieces fit."
He rose, to pour steaming water from the kettle into a fat brown pot. He rinsed it well with the boiling water, then dumped in the paper of herbs he had compounded. I watched him pour the boiling water over the herbs. The scent of a garden filled his chambers. I took the image of the old man putting th
e lid on the pot, wrapped up the homey simple moment of him setting the pot on the tray with some cups, and stowed it carefully somewhere in my heart. Age was creeping up on Chade, just as surely as disease devoured Shrewd. His deft movements were no longer quite so sure, his bird alertness not as quick as it once had been. My heart ached suddenly with my glimpse of the inevitable. As he set a warm cup of steaming tea in my hand, he frowned at my expression.
"What's wrong?" he whispered. "Do you want some honey in that?"
I shook my head to his questions, took a sip of tea, and near scalded my tongue. A pleasant taste overlay the bite of the elfbark. After a few moments I felt my mind clear and a pain I had scarcely been aware of went back to sleep. "That's much better." I sighed, and Chade sketched a bow at me, pleased with himself.
He leaned close again. "It is still a weak theory. Perhaps we simply have a self-indulgent Prince, who pleases himself with entertainments for his flatterers while the heir is away. He neglects protecting his coastline because he is shortsighted, and because he expects his brother will come home and tidy up his mess. He raids the treasury and sells off horses and cattle to amass wealth to himself while there is no one to stop him."
"Then why paint Beams as a traitor? And set up Kettricken as an outsider? Why spread rumors of ridicule about Verity and his quest?"
"Jealousy. Regal has always been his father's spoiled pet. I do not think he would turn on Shrewd." Something in Chade's voice made me realize this was what he desperately wished to believe. "I supply the herbs that Wallace administers to Shrewd for his pain."
"I do not doubt your herbs. But I think others are added to them."
"What would be the point? Even if Shrewd dies, Verity is still the heir."