by Robin Hobb
“When will you know?” he demanded sarcastically.
“I don’t know,” I hedged. “These things cannot be done recklessly or sloppily. I need to study the man and his habits, explore his chambers, and learn the habits of his servants. I must find a way to—”
“The wedding is two days hence,” Regal interrupted. The focus of his eyes softened. “I already know all the things you say you must discover. Easiest, then, for me to plan it for you. Come to me tomorrow night, and I will give you your orders. Mind this well, bastard. I do not want you to act before you have informed me. I would find any surprise unpleasant. You would find it deadly.” He lifted his eyes to mine, but I kept my face a careful blank.
“You are dismissed,” he told me regally. “Report to me here, tomorrow night, at the same time. Do not make me send Sevrens to fetch you. He has more important tasks. And do not think my father will not hear of your laxity. He will. He will regret not sending Bitch Thyme to do this little deed.” He leaned back heavily and yawned, and I caught a whiff of wine, and a subtle smoke. I wondered if he was learning his mother’s habits.
I returned to my chambers, intending to ponder carefully all my options and formulate a plan. But so weary was I and half-sick still that I was asleep as soon as my head touched the pillow.
Chapter
22
Dilemmas
In the dream, the Fool stood by my bed. He looked down at me and shook his head. “Why cannot I speak clearly? Because you make it all a muddle. I see a crossroads through the fog, and who always stands within it? You. Do you think I keep you alive because I am so entranced with you? No. It is because you create so many possibilities. While you live you give us more choices. The more choices, the more chances to steer for calmer water. So it is not for your benefit, but for the Six Duchies that I preserve your life. And your duty is the same. To live so that you may continue to present possibilities.”
* * *
I awoke in precisely the same quandary I had gone to sleep in. I had no idea of what I was going to do. I lay in my bed, listening to the random sounds of the palace awakening. I needed to talk to Chade. That was not possible. So I lightly closed my eyes and tried to think as he had taught me. “What do you know?” he would have asked me, and “What do you suspect?” So.
Regal had lied to King Shrewd about Rurisk’s health and his attitude toward the Six Duchies. Or, possibly, King Shrewd had lied to me about what Regal had said. Or Rurisk had lied about his inclinations toward us. I pondered a moment and decided to follow my first assumption. Shrewd had never lied to me, that I knew, and Rurisk could have simply let me die instead of rushing to my room. So.
So Regal wanted Rurisk dead. Or did he? If he wanted Rurisk dead, why did he betray me to Kettricken? Unless she had lied about that. I considered. Not likely. She might wonder if Shrewd would send an assassin, but why would she immediately decide to accuse me? No. She had recognized my name. And known of Lady Thyme. So.
And Regal had said, twice last night, that he had asked his father to send Lady Thyme. But he had likewise betrayed her name to Kettricken. Who did Regal really want dead? Prince Rurisk? Or Lady Thyme or me, after an assassination attempt was discovered? And how did any of it benefit him, and this marriage he had engineered? And why was he insisting I kill Rurisk, when all the political advantages were to his living?
I needed to talk to Chade. I couldn’t. I had to somehow decide this, myself. Unless.
Servants again brought water and fruit. I arose and dressed in my annoying clothes, and ate, and left my chambers. This day was much the same as yesterday. The holiday atmosphere was beginning to wear on me. I attempted to employ my time to advantage, enlarging my knowledge of the palace, its routines and layout. I found Eyod’s, Kettricken’s, and Rurisk’s chambers. I also carefully studied the staircase and support structures to Regal’s. I discovered that Cob slept in the stables, as did Burrich. I expected that of Burrich; he would not surrender the care of Buckkeep horses until he left Jhaampe; but why was Cob sleeping there? To impress Burrich, or to watch him? Sevrens and Rowd both slept in the antechamber of Regal’s apartments, despite a plentitude of rooms in the palace. I tried to study the distribution and schedules of the guards and sentries, but couldn’t find any. And all the while I watched for August. It took me the better part of the morning before I could find him in quiet circumstance. “I need to talk to you. Privately,” I told him.
He looked annoyed and glanced about to see if anyone were watching us. “Not here, Fitz. Maybe when we get back to Buckkeep. I’ve official duties, and—”
I had been prepared for that. I opened my hand, to show him the pin the King had given me so many years ago. “Do you see this? I had it from King Shrewd, a long time ago. And with it, his promise that if I ever needed to speak to him, I need only show it and I would be admitted to his chambers.”
“How touching,” August observed cynically. “And had you some reason for telling me this story? To impress me with your importance, perhaps?”
“I need to speak to the King. Now.”
“He isn’t here,” August pointed out. He turned to walk away.
I took hold of his arm, turned him back to me. “You can Skill to him.”
He shook me off angrily and glanced about us again. “I most certainly cannot. And would not, if I could. Do you think every man who can Skill is allowed to interrupt the King?”
“I have shown you the pin. I promise you, he would not regard this as an interruption.”
“I cannot.”
“Verity, then.”
“I do not Skill to Verity until he Skills to me first. Bastard, you don’t understand. You took the training and you failed at it, and you really have not the slightest comprehension of what the Skill is about. It is not like hallooing to a friend across a valley. It is a serious thing, not to be used except for serious purposes.” Again he turned away from me.
“Turn back, August, or regret it long.” I put every ounce of menace I could into my voice. It was an empty threat; I had no real way to make him regret it, other than threatening to tattle to the King. “Shrewd will not be pleased that you ignored his token.”
August turned slowly back. He glared at me. “Well. I will do this thing, then, but you must promise to take all blame for it.”
“I will. Will you come to my chambers, then, and Skill for me now?”
“Is there no other place?”
“Your chambers?” I suggested.
“No, that is even worse. Do not take it amiss, bastard, but I do not wish to seem to associate with you.”
“Take it not amiss, lordling, that I feel the same about you.”
In the end, on a stone bench, in a quiet part of Kettricken’s herb garden, August sat down and closed his eyes. “What message am I to Skill to Shrewd?”
I considered. This would be a game of riddles, if I were to keep August unaware of my true problem. “Tell him Prince Rurisk’s health is excellent, and we may all hope to see him live to old age. Regal still wishes to give him the gift, but I do not think it appropriate.”
August opened his eyes. “The Skill is an important—”
“I know. Tell him.”
So August sat and took several breaths, and closed his eyes. After a few moments he opened his eyes. “He says to listen to Regal.”
“That’s all?”
“He was busy. And very irritated. Now leave me alone. I fear you’ve made me a fool before my king.”
There were a dozen witty replies I could have made to that. But I let him walk away. I wondered if he had Skilled to King Shrewd at all. I sat down on the stone bench and reflected that I had gained nothing at all and wasted much time. The temptation came and I tried it. I closed my own eyes, breathed, focused, opened myself. Shrewd, my king.
Nothing. No reply. I doubt that I Skilled at all. I
rose and went back into the palace.
Again that day, at noon, Kettricken ascended the dais alone. Her words today were just as simple as she announced that she was binding herself to the people of the Six Duchies. From this moment hence she was their Sacrifice, in all things, for any reason that they commanded it of her. And then she thanked her own people, blood of her blood, who had raised her and treated her well, and reminded them she did not change her allegiance out of any lack of affection for them, but only in the hopes that it would benefit both peoples. Again the silence held as she descended the steps. Tomorrow would be her day to pledge herself to Verity as a woman to a man. From what I understood, Regal and August would stand beside her tomorrow in Verity’s stead, and August would Skill so that Verity might see his bride make her pledge to him.
The day dragged for me. Jonqui came and took me to visit the Blue Fountains. I did my best to be interested and pleasant. We returned to the palace for more minstrels and feasting and that evening’s displays of arts by the mountain people. Jugglers and acrobats performed, and dogs did tricks and swordsmen displayed their prowess in staged bouts. Blue smoke was very much in evidence, and many were indulging, swinging their tiny censers before them as they milled about and talked to one another. I understood that for them, it was like a carris-seed cake, a holiday indulgence, but I avoided the trailing smoke of the burn pots. I had to keep a clear head. Chade had supplied me with a potion to clear the head of wine fumes, but I had and knew of none for smoke. And I was unused to smoke. I found a clearer corner and stood apparently enraptured by a minstrel’s song, but watching Regal over his shoulder.
Regal sat at a table, flanked by two brass burners. A very reserved August sat a slight ways from him. From time to time they spoke, August seriously, the Prince dismissively. I was not close enough to hear the words, but I saw my name and Skill from August’s lips. I saw Kettricken approach Regal, and noted that she avoided being in the direct draft of the smoke. Regal spoke long to her, smiling and languid, and reached once to tap her hand and the silver rings she wore. He seemed to be one of those that the smoke made talkative and boastful. She seemed to teeter like a bird on a branch, now drawing closer to him and smiling, now drawing back and becoming more formal. Then Rurisk came to stand behind his sister. He spoke to Regal briefly and then took Kettricken’s arm and drew her away. Sevrens appeared and replenished Regal’s burners. Regal gave a foolish smile of thanks and said something, indicating the whole hall with a wave of his hand. Sevrens laughed, and left. Shortly afterward, Cob and Rowd arrived to speak to Regal. August rose and stalked indignantly off. Regal glared and sent Cob to fetch him back. August came, but not graciously. Regal rebuked, and August glowered, then lowered his eyes and conceded. I wished desperately that I were close enough to hear what was said. Something, I felt, was definitely afoot. It might be nothing to do with me and my task. But somehow I doubted it.
I went over my meager store of facts, feeling sure I was missing the significance of something. But I also wondered if I was not deceiving myself. Perhaps I was overreacting to everything. Perhaps the safest course was simply to do as Regal told me and let him accept the responsibility. Perhaps I should save time and cut my own throat.
I could, of course, go directly to Rurisk, tell him that despite my best efforts, Regal still wanted him dead, and beg asylum of him. After all, who would not find attractive a trained assassin who had already turned on one master?
I could tell Regal I was going to kill Rurisk and then simply not do it. I thought carefully about that.
I could tell Regal I was going to kill Rurisk, and then kill Regal instead. The smoke, I told myself. Only the smoke made that sound so wise.
I could go to Burrich and tell him I was really an assassin and ask his advice about my situation.
I could take the Princess’s mare and ride off into the mountains.
“So, are you enjoying yourself?” Jonqui asked as she came up and took my arm.
I realized I was staring at a man juggling knives and torches. “I shall long remember this experience,” I told her. And then suggested a stroll through the cool of the gardens. I knew the smoke was affecting me.
Late that night, I reported to Regal’s chamber. Rowd admitted me this time, smiling pleasantly. “Good evening,” he greeted me, and I walked in as if into a wolverine’s den. But the air within the chamber was blue with smoke, and this seemed the source of Rowd’s cheerfulness. Regal kept me waiting again, and though I tucked my chin to my chest and breathed shallowly, I knew the smoke was affecting me. Control, I reminded myself, and tried not to feel the giddiness. I shifted in my seat several times and finally resorted to openly covering my mouth and nose with a hand. It had small effect on screening the smoke.
I looked up as the screen to the inner chamber slid aside, but it was only Sevrens. He glanced at Rowd, then came to sit beside me. After a moment of his silence I asked, “Will Regal see me now?”
Sevrens shook his head. “He is with a…companion. But he has trusted me with all you need to know.” He opened his hand on the bench between us to show me a tiny white pouch. “He has obtained this for you. He trusts you will approve. A little of this, mixed with wine, will cause death, but not soon. There will not even be symptoms of death for several weeks, and then it comes as a lethargy that gradually increases. The man does not suffer,” he added, as if this were my primary concern.
I racked my brains. “Is this Kex gum?” I had heard of such a poison, but never seen it. If Regal had a source, Chade would want to know.
“I do not know its name, nor does it matter. Only this. Prince Regal says you will have a use for it tonight. You will make an opportunity.”
“What does he expect of me? That I will go to his chambers, knock, and enter with poisoned wine for him? Isn’t that a bit obvious?”
“Done that way, of course it is. But surely your training has given you more finesse than that?”
“My training tells me that things like this are not discussed with a valet. I must hear this from Regal, or I do not act.”
Sevrens sighed. “My master foresaw this. This is his message. By the pin you carry and the crest on your breast, he commands this. Refuse it, and you refuse your king. You will be committing treason, and he will see you hang for it.”
“But I—”
“Take it and go. The longer you wait, the later it is, and the more contrived will seem your visit to his chambers.”
Sevrens rose abruptly and left me. Rowd sat like a toad in the corner, eyeing me and smiling. I would have to kill both of them before we returned to Buckkeep, if I were to preserve my usefulness as an assassin. I wondered if they knew that. I smiled back at Rowd, tasting smoke in the back of my throat. I took my poison and left.
Once at the base of Regal’s staircase, I retreated to the wall where it was most shadowed, and clambered as swiftly as I could up one of the supports of Regal’s chamber. Clinging like a cat, I snugged myself up to the supports of the chamber floor and waited. And waited. Until between the smoke whirling in my head and my own weariness and the lingering effects of Kettricken’s herbs, I wondered if I were dreaming all of it. I wondered if my clumsy trap would yield me nothing. I considered, finally, that Regal had told me he had specifically requested Lady Thyme. But Shrewd had sent me instead. I recalled how Chade had puzzled over that. And finally I recalled his words to me. Had my king given me up to Regal? And if he had, what did I owe to any of them? Eventually, I saw Rowd depart and, after what seemed a very long time, return with Cob.
I could hear little through the floor, but enough to know Regal’s voice. My evening’s plans were being divulged to Cob. When I was certain of it, I wriggled out of my hiding place, clambered down, and retreated to my own room. There I made certain of some specialized supplies. I reminded myself, firmly, that I was a king’s man. I had told Verity so. I left my chamber and walked softly throu
gh the palace. In the Great Hall, the common folk slept on mats on the floor, in concentric circles around the dais, to have reserved the best viewing of their Princess’s pledging tomorrow. I walked among them and they did not stir. So much trust, so ill placed.
The chambers of the royals were at the extreme rear of the palace, farthest from the main entry. There were no guards. I walked past the door that led to the bedroom of the reclusive King, past Rurisk’s door, and to Kettricken’s. Her door was decorated with hummingbirds and honeysuckle. I thought how much the Fool would have liked it. I tapped lightly and waited. Slow moments passed. I tapped again.
I heard the scuff of bare feet on wood, and the painted screen slid open. Kettricken’s hair had been freshly braided, but fine strands had already pulled free around her face. Her long white night robe accented her fairness, so that she seemed pale as the Fool. “Did you need something?” she asked sleepily.
“Only the answer to a question.” The smoke still twined through my thoughts. I wanted to smile, to be witty and clever before her. Pale beauty, I thought. I pushed the impulse aside. She was waiting. “If I killed your brother tonight,” I said carefully, “what would you do?”
She did not even draw back from me. “I would kill you, of course. At least, I would demand it done, in justice. As I am pledged to your family now, I could not take your blood myself.”
“But would you go on with the wedding? Would you still marry Verity?”
“Would you like to come in?”
“I haven’t time. Would you marry Verity?”
“I am pledged to the Six Duchies, to be their queen. I am pledged to their people. Tomorrow, I pledge to the King-in-Waiting. Not to a man named Verity. But even were it otherwise, ask yourself, which is the most binding? I am bound already. It is not just my word, but my father’s. And my brother’s. I would not want to marry a man who had ordered my brother’s death. But it is not the man I am pledged to. It is the Six Duchies. I am given there, in the hopes of it benefiting my people. There I must go.”