by Robin Hobb
You did.
Nighteyes. I acknowledged him. I had no spirit to do more than that.
Come with me. Come with me and we will hunt. I can take you far from all of this.
In a while, perhaps, I put him off. I did not have the strength to deal with him.
I sat for a long time, actually. My encounter with Burrich hurt as badly as the beating had. I tried to think of one person in my life whom I had not failed, had not disappointed. I could think of no one.
I glanced down at Brawndy’s cloak. I was cold enough to want it, but too sore to pick it up. A pebble on the floor beside it caught my eye. It puzzled me. I had looked at this floor long enough to know there were no loose dark pebbles in my cell.
Curiosity is a disturbingly strong force. Finally, I leaned over and picked up the cloak, and the pebble next to it. It took some time to get the cloak around me. Then I examined my pebble. It wasn’t a pebble. It was dark and wet. A wad of something? Leaves. A pellet of wadded leaves. A pellet that had stung my chin when Burrich spat at me? Cautiously I held it up to the fickle light that wandered in the barred window. Something white secured the outer leaf. I picked it loose. What had caught my eye was the white end of a porcupine quill, while the black, barbed tip had secured the leaf wrapping. Unfolded, the leaf revealed a sticky brown wad. I lifted it to my nose and sniffed it cautiously. A mixture of herbs, but one dominated. I recognized the scent queasily. Carryme. A mountain herb. A powerful painkiller and sedative, sometimes used to extinguish life mercifully. Kettricken had used it when she had tried to kill me in the mountains.
Come with me.
Not just now.
This was Burrich’s parting gift to me? A merciful end? I thought over what he had said. Better just to lie down and die. This, from the man who had taught me the fight wasn’t over until you had won it? The contradiction was too sharp.
Heart of the Pack says you should come with me. Now. Tonight. Lie down, he says. Be a bone for the dogs to dig up later, he says. I could feel the effort Nighteyes was putting into relaying this message.
I was silent, thinking.
He took the quill from my lip, brother. I think we can trust him. Come with me now, tonight.
I considered the three things that lay in my hand. The leaf, the quill, the pellet. I rewrapped the pellet in the leaf, secured it with the quill again.
I don’t understand what he wants me to do, I complained.
Lie down and be still. Still yourself, and go with me, as myself. A long pause as Nighteyes worked something through in his head. Eat what he gave you only if you must. Only if you cannot come to me on your own.
I have no idea what he is up to. But, like you, I think we can trust him. In the dimness, past all weariness, I sat picking at the stitching in my sleeve. When it finally came loose, I coaxed the tiny paper packet of powder out, and then pushed the leaf-wrapped pellet in. I managed to force the quill to hold it there. I looked at the paper packet in my hand. A tiny idea came to me, but I refused to dwell on it. I gripped it in my hand. Then I wrapped myself in Brawndy’s cloak and slowly lay myself down on the bench. I knew I should keep vigil, lest Will come back. I was too hopeless and too weary. I am with you, Nighteyes.
We sped away together, over crusted white snow, into a wolf world.
THIRTY-TWO
Execution
Stablemaster Burrich was renowned during his years at Buckkeep as an extraordinary horse-handler as well as a houndsman and hawker. His skill with beasts was near legendary even in his own lifetime.
He began his years of service as a common soldier. It is said he came from folk who had settled in Shoaks. Some say his grandmother was of slave stock, who bought herself free from a Bingtown master by an extraordinary service.
As a soldier, his fierceness in battle brought him to the attention of a young Prince Chivalry. It is rumoured that he first appeared before his prince on a disciplinary matter regarding a tavern brawl. He served Chivalry for a time as a weapons partner, but Chivalry discovered his gift for animals and put him in charge of his guards’ horses. He was soon caring for Chivalry’s hounds and hawks as well, and eventually came to oversee the entire stables of Buckkeep. His sage doctoring of beasts and knowledge of their internal workings extended to cattle, sheep and swine and the occasional treatment of fowl. No one exceeded him in his understanding of beasts.
Severely injured in a boar-hunting accident, Burrich acquired a limp he was to suffer the rest of his life. It seems to have mitigated the quick and savage temper that was his reputation as a young man. However, it is also true he remained a man that few crossed willingly to the end of his days.
His herbal remedy was responsible for halting the outbreak of scallers that afflicted the lambs in Bearns Duchy following the Blood Plague years. He saved the flocks from total decimation, and kept the disease from spreading into Buck Duchy.
A clear night under shining stars. A sound healthy body, surging down a snowy hillside in a series of exuberant leaps. Our passage left snow cascading from bushes in our wake. We had killed, we had eaten. All hungers were satisfied. The night was fresh and open, cracking cold. No cage held us, no men beat us. Together, we knew the fullness of our freedom. We went to where the spring welled up so strongly it almost never froze, and lapped the icy water. Nighteyes shook ourselves all over, then took a deep snuff of the air.
Morning comes.
I know. I do not wish to think of it. Morning, when dreams must end and reality be endured.
You must come with me.
Nighteyes, I am already with you.
No. You must come with me, all the way. You must let go.
So he had told me, at least twenty times already. I could not mistake the urgency of his thoughts. His insistence was plain, and his single-mindedness amazed me. It was not like Nighteyes to cling so firmly to an idea that had nothing to do with food. This was a thing he and Burrich had decided. I must go with him.
I could not fathom what he wanted me to do.
Over and over, I had explained to him that I was trapped, my body in a cage, just as he had once been trapped in a cage. My mind could go with him, for a time at least, but I could not go with him as he urged me to. Each time he told me that he understood that, but I was not understanding him. And now we were back to it again.
I sensed him attempting patience. You must come with me, now. All the way. Before they come to wake you.
I cannot. My body is locked in a cage.
Leave it! he said savagely. Let go!
What?
Leave it, let go of it, come with me.
You mean, die? Eat the poison?
Only if you have to. But do it now, quickly, before they can hurt you more. Leave it and come with me. Let go of it. You did it once before. Remember?
The effort of making sense of his words was making me aware of our bond. The pain of my own racked body broke through to haunt me. Somewhere I was stiff with the cold, and aching with pain. Somewhere, every breath brought an answering twinge from my ribs. I scrabbled away from that, back to the wolf’s strong sound body.
That’s right, that’s right. Just leave it. Now. Let go of it. Just let go.
I knew abruptly what he wanted me to do. I did not know quite how to do it, and I was not sure that I could. Once, yes, I remembered that I had let go of my body and left it in his care. Only to awaken hours later beside Molly. But I was not sure how I had done it. And it had been different. I had left the wolf to guard me, when I had gone wherever I had gone. This time he wanted me just to break
my consciousness free from my body. To willingly let go the tie that bound mind to flesh. Even if I could discover how to do it, I did not know if I had the will to do it.
Just lie down and die, Burrich had told me.
Yes. That’s right. Die if you must, but come with me.
I made an abrupt decision. Trust. Trust Burrich, trust the wolf. What did I have to lose?
I drew a deep breath, poised inside myself as for a dive into cold water.
No. No, just let go.
I am. I am. I groped about inside myself, looking for whatever bound me to my body. I slowed my breathing, I willed my heart to beat more slowly. I refused the sensations of pain, of cold, of stiffness. I sank away from all of it, deep into myself.
No! No! Nighteyes howled in desperation. To me! Come to me, let go of that, come to me!
But there was the scuff of footsteps, and the mutter of voices. A shudder of fear went through me and despite myself, I cowered deeper into Brawndy’s cloak. One eye would open a bit. It showed me the same dimly lit cell, the same tiny barred window. There was a deep cold pain inside me, something more insidious than hunger. They had broken no bones, but inside me, something was torn. I knew it.
You are back in the cage! Nighteyes cried. Leave it! Leave your body and come to me!
It’s too late, I whispered. Run away, run away. Don’t share this.
Are we not pack? Desperation as throbbing as a wolf’s drawn-out howl.
They were at my door, it was swinging open. Fear seized me in its jaws and shook me. Almost I lifted my cuff to my mouth and chewed the pellet from my sleeve right then. Instead, I gripped the tiny paper packet in my fist, and made a determined resolution to forget about it.
The same man with the torch, the same two guards. The same command. ‘You. On your feet.’
I pushed Brawndy’s cloak aside. One of the guards was still human enough to pale at what he saw. The other two were stolid. And when I could not move swiftly enough to suit them, one seized me by the arm and jerked me to my feet. I cried out wordlessly with pain; I could not help it. And that response set me to trembling with fear. If I could not keep from crying out, how could I hold my defences against Will?
They took me from my cell and down the hall. I do not say I walked. All my bruises had stiffened in the night. The beating had reopened the sword cuts on my right forearm and on my thigh. Those pains, too, had been renewed. Pain was like air now; I moved through it, I breathed it in and out of myself. In the centre of the guard-room, one shoved me and I fell. I lay on the floor on my side. I saw no point to struggling to sit up; I had no dignity to save. Better that they thought I could not stand. While I could, I would be still and marshal whatever strength I could still call my own. Slowly, laboriously, I cleared myself and began to set the guards on my mind. Over and over, through the pain haze, I went over the Skill walls I had erected, strengthening them, sealing myself away behind them. The walls of my mind were what I must guard, not the flesh of my body. Around me in the room, men lined the walls. They shuffled, and spoke quietly amongst themselves, waiting. I scarcely noticed them. My world was my walls and my pain.
There was the creak and draught of an opened door. Regal came in. Will walked behind him, carelessly radiating Skill strength. I was aware of him as I had never before been aware of a man. Even without sight, I could sense him, the shape of him, the heat of the Skill that burned inside him. He was dangerous. Regal supposed he was only a tool. I dared a tiny satisfaction in knowing Regal did not know the perils of such a tool as Will.
Regal took his chair. Someone brought a small table for him. I heard a bottle opened, then smelled wine as it was poured. The pain had tuned my senses to an unbearable keenness. I listened to Regal drink. I refused to acknowledge how much I longed for it.
‘Dear me. Look at him. Do you suppose we have gone too far, Will?’ Something in the arch amusement in Regal’s voice informed me that he had taken more than wine today. Smoke, perhaps? So early? The wolf had said dawn. Regal would never be up at dawn … something was wrong with my time sense.
Will walked slowly toward me, stood over me. I did not try to move to see his face. I gripped my tiny store of strength firmly. He nudged me sharply with his foot and I gasped despite myself. At almost the same instant, he slammed his Skill strength against me. There, at least, I held firm. Will took a short breath through his nose, snorted it out. He walked back to Regal.
‘Your majesty. You’ve done almost as much as you can to his body, without risking damage that would plainly show even a month hence. But within, he still resists. Pain can distract him from warding his mind, but it does not inherently weaken his Skill strength. I do not think you will break him this way.’
‘I did not ask you that, Will!’ Regal rebuked him sharply. I listened to him shift himself to a more comfortable position. ‘Ah, this takes too long. My dukes grow impatient. He must be broken today.’ Almost pensively, he asked Will, ‘Almost as much as I can, you say, to his body? What then would you suggest as the next step?’
‘Leave him alone with me. I can get what you wish from him.’
‘No.’ Regal’s refusal was flat. ‘I know what you want from him, Will. You see him as a fat wineskin, full of Skill strength, which you would like to drain. Well, perhaps, at the end, there will be a way for you to have him. But not just yet. I want him to stand before the dukes and confess himself a traitor. More, I want him to grovel before the throne, and beg for mercy. I will have him denounce all those who have defied me. He, himself, shall accuse them. No one will doubt it when he says they are traitors. Let Duke Brawndy see his own daughter accused, let all the court hear that the Lady Patience who cries so loudly for justice has herself betrayed the crown. And for him … that candle-maker girl, that Molly.’
My heart lurched sideways inside me.
‘I have not yet found her, my lord,’ Will ventured.
‘Silence!’ Regal thundered. Almost, he sounded like King Shrewd. ‘Do not hearten him with that. She need not be found to be declared a traitor by his own lips. We can find her at our leisure. He can go to his death, knowing she will follow him, betrayed by his words. I will cleanse Buckkeep from dungheap to tower top of all who have sought to betray me and defy me!’ He lifted his cup in a toast to himself and drank deeply.
He sounded, I thought to myself, very like Queen Desire had in her cups. One part braggart and one part snivelling coward. He would fear everyone he did not control. And the next day he would fear those he controlled even more.
Regal set his wine cup down with a thud. He leaned back in his chair. ‘Well, let’s continue, shall we? Kelfry, stand him up for us.’
Kelfry was a competent man who took no joy in his work. He was not gentle, but neither was he rougher than he needed to be. He stood behind me, gripping me by the upper arms to keep me upright. Hod had not trained him. I knew if I snapped my head back swiftly, I could break his nose and possibly take out some of his front teeth. Snapping my head back swiftly struck me as only slightly simpler than picking up the floor under my own feet would be. I stood, hands curled defensively over my belly, pushing the pain aside, gathering my strength. After a moment, I lifted my head and regarded Regal.
I ran my tongue about the inside of my mouth to free my lips from my teeth, then spoke. ‘You killed your own father.’
Regal stiffened in his chair. The man holding me tensed. I leaned in his arms, forcing him to support my weight.
‘Serene and Justin did it, but you ordered it,’ I said quietly. Regal came to his feet.
‘But not before we had Skilled to Verity,’ I made my voice louder. The
effort broke sweat on me. ‘Verity knows everything.’ Regal was coming at me, with Will right behind him. I swung my gaze to Will, put threat in my voice. ‘He knows about you, too, Will. He knows it all.’
The guard held me as Regal backhanded me. Once. Another slap, and I felt the swollen skin of my face split under the impact. Regal drew his fist back. I set myself to take it, pushed away all pain, centred myself, got ready.
‘Look out!’ Will yelled, and sprang to knock Regal aside.
I had wanted it too badly, he had Skilled what I intended to do. As Regal swung, I jerked free of my guard, slipped aside from Regal’s blow, then stepped in. With one hand I seized the back of Regal’s neck, to pull his face toward my other hand that gripped the now-crushed paper of powder. My intent had been to rub it into his nose and mouth, to hope against hope he’d get enough of it to kill him.
Will spoiled it all. My swollen fingers would not close on Regal’s neck. Will snatched Regal from my wooden grasp, swung him sideways away from me. As Will’s shoulder collided with my chest, I reached for his face instead, grinding the torn paper and fine white powder into his nose and mouth and eyes. Most of it floated up in a fine cloud between us. I saw him gasp at the bitterness and then we were down, both of us, under a wave of Regal’s guards.
I dived for unconsciousness, but it eluded me. I was struck, kicked and throttled before Regal’s frenzied cries of, ‘Don’t kill him! Don’t kill him!’ seemed to matter to anyone save me. I felt them get off me, felt them drag Will from under me, but I could not see. Blood was sheeting down over my face. My tears mingled with it. My last chance, and I had failed. I had not even killed Will. Oh, he would be sick for a few days, but I doubted he would die of it. Even now I heard them muttering over him.
