Assassin 3 - Royal Assassin (22 page)

Kettricken had slashed one across the face,
blinding him with blood, but still he clung to her and tried to
drag her from the saddle. The other ignored the plight of his
fellows, tugging instead at saddlebags that probably carried no
more than a bit of food and brandy packed for a day's
ride.

Sooty took me in close to the one gripping
Softstep's headstall. I saw it was a woman and then my sword was
into her and out again, as soulless an exercise as chopping wood.
Such a peculiar struggle. I could sense Kettricken and me, the
fright of her horse and Sooty's battle-trained enthusiasm, but from
her attackers, nothing. Nothing at all. No anger throbbed, no pain
of their wounds shrieked for attention. To my Wit, they were not
there at all, any more than the snow or the wind that likewise
opposed me.

I watched as in a dream as Kettricken seized her
attacker by the hair and leaned his head back that she might cut
his throat. Blood spilled black in the moonlight, drenching her
coat and leaving a sheen on the chestnut's neck and shoulder before
he fell back to spasm in the snow. I swung my short sword at the
last one, but missed. Kettricken did not. Her short knife danced
in, and punched through jerkin and rib cage and into his lung, and
out again as swift. She kicked him away. To me! she said simply
into the night, and put heels to her chestnut, driving Softstep
straight up the hill. Sooty ran with her nose at Kettricken's
stirrup, and so we crested the hill together, glimpsing the lights
of Buckkeep briefly before we plunged down the other
side.

There was brush at the bottom of the slope, and
a creek hidden by the snow, so I kicked Sooty into the lead and
turned Softstep before she could blunder into it and fall.
Kettricken said nothing as I turned her horse, but let me take the
lead as we entered the forest on the other side of the stream. I
moved us as swiftly as I dared, expecting always figures to shout
and leap out at us. But we made the road at last, just as the
clouds closed up again, stealing the moonlight from us. I slowed
the horses and let them breathe. For some time we traveled in
silence, both intently listening for any sounds of
pursuit.

After a time we felt safer, and I heard
Kettricken let out her pent breath in a long, shaky sigh. Thank
you, Fitz, she said simply, but could not keep her voice quite
steady. I made no comment, half expecting that at any moment she
would burst into weeping. I would not have blamed her. Instead she
gradually gathered herself, tugging her clothes straight, wiping
her blade on her pants and then resheathing it at her waist. She
leaned forward to pat Softstep's neck and murmur words of praise
and comfort to the horse. I felt Softstep's tension ease and
admired Kettricken's skill to have so swiftly gained the confidence
of the tall horse.

How came you here? Seeking me? she asked at
last.

I shook my head. Snow was beginning to fall
again. I was out hunting, and went farther than I had intended. It
was but good fortune that brought me to you. I paused, then
ventured, Did you get lost? Will there be riders searching for
you?

She sniffed, and took a breath. Not exactly, she
said in a shaky voice. I went out riding with Regal. A few others
rode with us, but when the storm began to threaten, we all turned
back to Buckkeep. The others rode on before us, but Regal and I
came more slowly. He was telling me a folktale from his home Duchy,
and we let the others ride ahead, that I should not have to hear it
through their chatter. She took a breath and I heard her swallow
back the last of the night's terror. Her voice was calmer when she
went on.

The others were far ahead of us, when a fox
started up suddenly from the brush by the path. `Follow me, if
you'd like to see real sport!' Regal challenged me, and he turned
his horse from the path and set off after the animal. Whether I
would or no, Softstep sprang after them. Regal rode like a mad
thing, all stretched out on his horse, urging it on with a quirt.
There was consternation, and wonder, but also a stain of admiration
in her voice as she described him.

Softstep had not answered the rein. At first she
had been fearful of their pace, for she did not know the terrain
and feared that Softstep would stumble. So she had tried to rein in
her mount. But when she had realized that she could no longer see
the road or the others, and that Regal had gotten far ahead of her,
she had given Softstep her head, in the hopes of catching up. With
the predictable result that as the storm closed in she had lost her
way completely. She had turned back to retrace her trail to the
road, but the falling snow and blowing wind had quickly erased it.
At last she had given Softstep the bit, trusting her horse to find
her way home. Probably she would have, if those wild men had not
set upon her. Her voice dwindled away into silence.

Forged ones, I told her quietly.

Forged ones, she repeated in a wondering voice.
Then, more firmly: They have no hearts left. So it was explained to
me. I felt more than saw her glance. Am I so poor a Sacrifice that
there are folk who would kill me?

In the distance we heard the winding of a horn.
Searchers.

They would have set upon any that crossed their
paths, I told her. For them, there was no thought that it was their
queen-in-waiting they attacked. I doubt greatly that they knew who
you were at all. I closed my jaws firmly before I could add that
such was not the case with Regal. If he had not intended her harm,
neither had he kept her from coming to it. I did not believe he had
ever intended to show her sport in chasing a fox across snowy hills
in the twilight. He had meant to lose her. And done so
handily.

I think my lord will be very wroth with me, she
said, woeful as a child. As if in answer to her prediction, we
rounded the shoulder of the hill and saw men on horseback bearing
torches coming toward us. We heard the horn again, more clearly,
and in a few moments we were among them. They were the forerunners
of the main search party, and a girl set out at once galloping back
to tell the King-in-Waiting that his queen had been found. In the
light of the torches, Verity's guards exclaimed and swore over the
blood that glinted yet on Softstep's neck, but Kettricken kept her
composure as she assured them that none of it was hers. She spoke
quietly of the Forged ones who had set upon her and what she had
done to defend herself. I saw admiration of her growing among the
soldiers. I heard then for the first time that the boldest attacker
had dropped out of a tree upon her. Him she had slain
first.

Four she done, and not a scratch upon her!
exulted one grizzled veteran, and then: Begging your pardon, my
lady queen. No disrespect meant!

It might have been a different tale had not Fitz
come to free my horse's head, Kettricken said quietly. Their
respect for her grew as she did not glory in her triumph, but made
sure I received my due as well.

They congratulated her loudly, and spoke angrily
of scouring the woods tomorrow all about Buckkeep. It shames us all
as soldiers, that our own queen cannot ride forth safely! declared
one woman. She set her hand to the hilt of her blade and swore on
it to have it blooded with Forged blood by the morrow. Several
others followed her example. The talk grew loud, bravado and relief
at the Queen's safety fueling it. It became a triumphal procession
home, until Verity arrived. He came at a dead gallop, on a horse
lathered by both distance and speed. I knew then that the search
had not been a brief one, and could only guess at how many roads
Verity had traveled since he had received word his lady was
missing.

How could you be so foolish as to go so far
astray! were his first words to her. His voice was not tender. I
saw her head lose its proud lift, and heard the muttered comments
of the man closest to me. From there nothing went well. He did not
scold her before his men, but I saw him wince as she told him
plainly what had become of her and how she had killed to defend
herself. He was not pleased to have her speak so plainly of a band
of Forged ones, brave enough to attack the Queen, and scarce out of
Buckkeep's shadow. That which Verity had sought to keep quiet would
be on everyone's lips tomorrow, with the added fillip that it had
been the Queen herself they'd dared to attack. Verity shot me a
murderous glance, as if it were all my doing, and roughly
commandeered fresh horses from two of his guard to take himself and
his queen back to Buckkeep. He whisked her away from them, carrying
her back to Buckkeep at a gallop as if arriving there sooner would
somehow make the breach of safety less real. He seemed not to
realize he had denied his guard the honor of bringing her safely
home.

I myself rode back slowly with them, trying not
to hear the disgruntled words of the soldiers. They did not quite
criticize the King-in-Waiting, but complimented the Queen more on
her spirit and thought it sad she'd not been welcomed back with an
embrace and a kind word or two. If any gave thought to Regal's
behavior, they did not speak it aloud.

Later that night, in the stables, after I'd seen
to Sooty, I helped Burrich and Hands put Softstep and Truth,
Verity's horse, to rights. Burrich grumbled at how hard both beasts
had been used. Softstep had taken a minor scratch during the
attack, and her mouth was sore, bruised from fighting for her head,
but neither animal would take permanent hurt. Burrich sent Hands
off to fix a warm mash of grain for them both. Only then did he
quietly tell how Regal had come in, given his horse over for
stabling, and gone up to the Keep without so much as mentioning
Kettricken. Burrich himself had been alerted by a stable boy,
asking where Softstep was. When Burrich had set about to find out,
and made so bold as to ask Regal himself, Regal had replied that he
had thought Kettricken had stayed on the road and come in with her
attendants. So Burrich had been the one to sound the alarm, with
Regal very vague as to where he had actually left the road, and
what direction the fox had led him, and presumably Kettricken. He's
covered his tracks well, Burrich muttered to me as Hands came back
with the grain. I knew he did not refer to the fox.

My feet were leaden as I made my way up to the
Keep that night, and my heart as well. I did not want to imagine
what Kettricken was feeling, nor did I care to consider what the
talk was in the guardroom. I pulled off my clothes and fell into
bed, and instantly into a sleep. Molly was waiting for me in my
dreams, and the only peace I knew.

I was awakened a short time later, by someone
pounding on my latched door. I arose and opened it to a sleepy
page, who'd been sent to fetch me to Verity's map room. I told him
I knew the way and sent him back to bed. I dragged on my clothes
hastily and raced down the stairs, wondering what disaster had
befallen us now.

Verity was waiting for me there, the hearthfire
almost the only light in the room. His hair was rumpled, and he had
thrown a robe on over his nightshirt. Plainly he had just come from
his bed himself, and I braced myself for whatever news he'd
received. Shut the door! he commanded me tersely. I did and then
came to stand before him. I could not tell if the glint in his eyes
was anger or amusement as he abruptly demanded, Who is Lady
Red-Skirts, and why do I dream of her every night?

I could not find my tongue. Desperately I
wondered just how privy to my dreams he had been. Embarrassment
dizzied me. Had I stood naked before the whole court, I could not
have felt more exposed.

Verity turned his face aside and gave a cough
that might have started as a chuckle. Come, boy, it is not as if I
cannot understand. I did not wish to be privy to your secret;
rather you have thrust it upon me, especially so these last few
nights. And I need my sleep, not to start up in bed fevered with
your ... admiration for this woman. He stopped speaking abruptly.
My flaming blush was warmer than any hearthfire.

So, he said uncomfortably. Then abruptly: Sit
down. I am going to teach you to guard your thoughts as well as you
guard your tongue. He shook his head. Strange, Fitz, that you can
block my Skilling so completely from your mind at times, but spill
your most private desires out like a wolf howling into the night. I
suppose it springs from what Galen did to you. Would we could undo
that. But as we can't, I shall teach you what I can, whenever I
can.

I had not moved. Suddenly neither of us could
look at the other. Come here, he repeated gruffly. Sit down here
with me. Look into the flames.

And in the space of an hour, he gave me an
exercise to practice, one that would keep my dreams to myself, or
more likely, ensure that I had no dreams at all. With a sinking
heart I realized I would lose even the Molly of my imagination as
surely as I'd lost the real one. He sensed my glumness.

Come, Fitz, it will pass. Keep a rein on
yourself and endure. It can be done. May come a day when you will
wish your life to be as empty of women as it is now. As I
do.

She didn't mean to get lost, sir.

Verity shot me a baleful glance. Intentions
cannot be exchanged for results. She is queen-in-waiting, boy. She
must always think, not once, but thrice, before she takes
action.

She told me that Softstep followed Regal's
horse, and would not respond to the rein. You can fault Burrich and
I for that; we're supposed to have trained that horse.