Assassin 3 - Royal Assassin (85 page)

Anything that must be done, can be done, Chade
asserted. He sat thoughtfully a moment. Perhaps you have a point.
Regal cannot have the King incapacitated for the ceremony. If he is
not there, not one of the Coastal Dukes will give it any credence.
Regal will have to allow Shrewd his pain herbs, to keep him
tractable, if nothing else. Very well, then. The night after
tomorrow. And if you absolutely must speak to me tomorrow, put some
bitterbark on your hearthfire. Not a lot, I have no wish to be
smoked out. But a generous handful. I will open the way.

The Fool will want to go with the King. I
reminded myself slowly.

He cannot, Chade said decisively. There is no
disguising him. He would only increase the danger. Besides, it is
necessary he stay. We will need his help to prepare for this
disappearance.

I do not think that will change his
mind.

Leave the Fool to me. I can show him that his
King's life depends on his getting away from here cleanly. An
`atmosphere' must be created, in which the King and Queen's
disappearance is not seen as ... ah, well. Leave that part to me. I
will discourage them from smashing walls. The Queen's role is easy.
All she need do is retire early from the ceremony, and declare that
she wishes to sleep long, and send her attendants away. She should
leave word she does not wish to be disturbed until she summons
them. If all goes well, we should be able to give Shrewd and
Kettricken most of the night hours to gain some distance. He smiled
at me kindly. Well. I think that is as much planning as we can do.
No, no, I know nothing is fixed. It is better this way. We are more
flexible. Now go get what sleep you can, boy. You've a busy day
tomorrow. And I've much to do right now. I must mix enough
medicines to take King Shrewd all the way to the Mountains. And
package them clearly. Burrich reads, does he not?

Very well, I assured him. I paused. Were you at
the Keep well last night, about midnight? Supposedly the Pocked Man
was seen. Some are saying it means the well will go bad. Others are
seeing it as a bad omen for Regal's ceremony.

Oh? Well, and perhaps it is. Chade chuckled to
himself. Omens and portents they shall have, boy, until a vanishing
King and a missing Queen seem but a natural thing in the midst of
it. He grinned like a boy, and the years dropped from his face.
Something like their old spark of mischief came into his green
eyes. Go get some rest. And let Burrich and the Queen know of our
plans. I shall speak to Shrewd and the Fool. No others are to know
even a whisper. For some of it, we must trust to luck. But for the
rest, trust to me!

His laughter was not a wholly reassuring sound
as it followed me down the stairs.

CHAPTER
TWENTY-EIGHT

Treasons and
Traitors

PRINCE REGAL WAS the only child of King Shrewd
and Queen Desire to survive birth. Some say the midwives never
cared for the Queen and did not do overmuch to see her babes lived.
Others that the midwives, in their anxiety to spare the Queen her
birth pangs, gave her too much of those herbs that dull pain. But
as only two of her stillborn children had been carried more than
seven months in her womb, most midwives say the Queen's use of
intoxicants was at fault, as well as her evil habit of carrying her
belt knife with the blade toward her belly, as all know this is bad
luck for a woman of childbearing years.

I did not sleep. Whenever I pushed my worries
about King Shrewd from my mind, Molly stood there instead, beside
someone else. My mind shuttled between them, weaving me a coat of
misery and worry. I promised myself that as soon as King Shrewd and
Kettricken were safe, I would find a way to win Molly back from
whoever had stolen her from me. That decided, I turned over and
stared into the dark some more.

Night's reign was still solid when I rolled from
my bed. I ghosted past empty stalls and sleeping animals to go
silently up Burrich's stairs. He heard me out, then asked gently,
Are you sure you've not had a bad dream?

If I have, it's lasted most of my life, I
pointed out quietly.

I begin to feel that way myself, he agreed. We
were talking in the dark. He was still in bed and I was sitting on
the floor beside it, whispering. I would not suffer Burrich to
build up his fire, or even light a candle, for I did not desire
anyone to wonder about a sudden departure from his routine. For us
to accomplish all he is asking in two days means that every task
must be done perfectly the first time. I have come to you first.
Can you do it?

He was silent and in the darkness I could not
see his face. Three sturdy horses, a mule, a litter, and supplies
for three. All without anyone noticing it. Another silence. I can't
very well just load up the King and Queen and ride out through the
gates of Buckkeep, either.

You know that copse of alder where the big dog
fox used to den? Have the horses waiting there. The King and
Kettricken will meet you there. Reluctantly I added, The wolf will
guide them to you.

Must they know, as well as I, what you do? He
was aghast at the thought.

I use what tools I have. And I do not perceive
it as you do.

How long can you share minds with one who
scratches and licks himself, who will roll in carrion, who goes mad
when a female is in season, who thinks no further than his next
meal, before you accept his values as your own? Then what will you
be?

A guardsman? I hazarded.

Despite himself, Burrich gave a snort of
laughter. I was serious, he said after a moment.

So am I, about the King and Queen. We must put
our minds to how we will accomplish this. I no longer care what I
sacrifice to accomplish it.

He was quiet a moment. So somehow I'm to get
four animals and a litter out of Buckkeep without exciting any
interest?

I nodded in the dark, then Can it be
done?

Grudgingly he said, There's a stable hand or two
left that I trust. It's not a favor I like to ask of anyone. I
don't want a lad swinging over something I asked him to do. But I
suppose it could be made to look as if they were part of a coffle
being taken upriver. But my lads are not stupid; I won't have a
stupid hand in the stable. Once the news is out that the King is
missing, they'll figure it out quickly.

Choose one who loves the King.

Burrich sighed. Food supplies. It won't be
sumptuous rations. More like marching fare. Am I to supply winter
clothing as well?

No. Only for yourself. Kettricken can wear and
carry what she'll need. And Chade can see to the King's
needs.

Chade. The name is almost familiar, as if I
heard it before, long ago.

He is supposed to have died, long ago. Before
that, he was seen about the Keep.

To live all these years as a shadow. He
marveled.

And he plans to go on living as a
shadow.

You need not fear I'll betray him. Burrich
sounded hurt.

I know. I am just so-

I know. Go on, then. You've told me enough for
me to do my part. I'll be there with the horses and supplies. What
time?

Sometime in the night, when the feasting is
still lively. I don't know. I'll get word to you
somehow.

He shrugged. As soon as it gets dark, I'll go
out there and wait.

Burrich. Thank you.

He is my king. She is my queen. I need no thanks
from you to do my duty.

I left Burrich to creep down his staircase. I
kept to the shadows and extended every sense I had to try to be
sure no one was spying on me. Once I was clear of the stables, I
flitted from warehouse to sty to pen, from shadow to shadow until I
came to the old hut. Nighteyes came panting to meet me. What is it?
Why am I called back from my hunting?

Tomorrow night, when it gets dark. I may need
you. Will you stay here, within the Keep, to come quickly if I send
for you?

Of course. But why summon me here for this? You
need not be this close to me to ask such a simple favor.

I crouched down in the snow and he came to me,
to rest his throat on my shoulder. I hugged him hard.

Foolishness, he told me gruffly. Go on, now. I
will be here in case you need me.

My thanks.

My brother.

Stealth and haste battled as I made my way back
to the Keep and up to my room. I fastened my door shut and lay down
on my bed. Excitement thundered through me. I would know no real
rest until all had been accomplished.

At midmorning I was admitted to the Queen's
chamber. I brought with me a number of scrolls on herbs. Kettricken
was reclining on a couch before the hearth, playing the part of
both bereaved wife and anxious mother-to-be. I could see that it
wore on her, and that her fall had caused her more pain in truth
than she cared to admit. She looked little better than she had the
night before, but I greeted her warmly and proceeded to work my way
through every herb listed, one after the other, with much
discussion as to the benefits of each. I succeeded in boring most
of her ladies away, and she finally dismissed the last three to
bring tea, find her more pillows, and look for another scroll on
herbs that Kettricken said was in Verity's study. Little Rosemary
had long since dozed off in a warm corner by the hearth. As soon as
the rustle of their skirts had faded, I spoke quickly, knowing I
had little time.

You will be leaving tomorrow night, after the
King-in-Waiting ceremony, I told her, and spoke on although she had
parted her lips to ask a question. Dress warmly and take winter
things. Not many. Go to your bedchamber alone, as early as you
decently can. Plead that the ceremony and your grief have exhausted
you. Send your attendants away, say you must sleep, and tell them
not to come back until you summon them. Bar your door. No. Only
listen. There is little time. Ready yourself to leave, and then
stay in your room. One will come for you. Trust the Pocked Man. The
King is going with you. Trust me, I told her desperately as we
heard returning footsteps. All else will be arranged. Trust
me.

Trust. I did not trust that any of it would come
to pass. Daffodil was back with the pillows, and shortly after
that, the tea arrived. We chatted amiably, and one of Kettricken's
younger ladies even flirted with me. Queen Kettricken asked me to
leave the herbal scrolls with her, as her back still pained her.
She had decided she would retire early this evening, and perhaps
the scrolls would help her while away the time before she slept. I
made my gracious farewells and escaped.

Chade had said he would handle the Fool. I had
made my pathetic attempts at planning the escape. Now all that
remained was for me somehow to arrange for the King to be alone
after the ceremony. A few minutes were all Chade had asked for. I
wondered if I would have to give my life for them. I put the notion
aside. Just a few minutes. The two broken doors would be a
hindrance or a help. I wasn't sure which. I considered all the
obvious ploys. I could feign drunkenness and bait the guards out to
fight. Unless I had an ax, it wouldn't take them more than a few
minutes to deal with me. Plain fisticuffs had never worked very
well for me. No. I wanted to remain functional. I considered and
rejected a dozen schemes. Too much depended on factors I couldn't
control. How many guards would be there, would they be ones I knew,
would Wallace be there, would Regal have dropped by for a
chat?

On my earlier foray to Kettricken's room, I had
noticed that makeshift curtains had been tacked up over the
splintered door frames of the King's chambers. Most of the wreckage
had been carried off, but bits of oaken door still littered the
corridor. No workmen had been called in to do repairs. Another sign
that Regal had no intention of ever returning to
Buckkeep.

I tried to find some excuse to introduce myself
into that room. The Keep downstairs was busier than ever, for today
the Dukes of Bea
rn
s,
Rippon, and Shoaks Duchies were expected to arrive with their
retinues to witness the King-in-Waiting ceremony for Regal. They
were being put in the lesser guest rooms, across the Keep. I
wondered how they would react to the sudden disappearance of the
King and Queen. Would it be seen as treachery, or would Regal find
some way to conceal it from them? What would it auger for his new
reign to begin so? I put it from my mind; it wasn't helping me get
the King alone in his chamber.

I left my room and went pacing through Buckkeep,
hoping for inspiration. Instead I found only confusion. Noble folk
of every degree were arriving for Regal's ceremony, and the influx
of guests and their households and servants swept and eddied about
the outflow of goods and folk that Regal was sending inland. My
feet carried me unplanned to Verity's study. The door was ajar and
I went in. The hearth was cold, the room musty with disuse. There
was a distinct odor of mouse in the air. I hoped whatever scrolls
they were nesting in weren't irreplaceable. I was fairly certain I
had removed the ones Verity treasured to Chade's rooms. I walked
about the room, touching his things. I suddenly missed him acutely.
His unyielding steadiness, his calmness, his strength; he would
never have let things come to such a situation. I sat down in his
work chair at his map table. Scuffs and scribbles of ink where he
had tried colors on it marred the tabletop. Here were two badly cut
quills, discarded with a brush worn hairless. In a box on the table
were several little pots of color, cracked and dried now. They
smelled like Verity to me, in the same way that leather and harness
oil always smelled like Burrich. I leaned forward on the table and
put my head in my hands. Verity, we need you now.