by Robin Hobb
"Your Majesty, there is no word from there as yet." This was not a lie.
"What goes on here?" The shouting began before he even reached the bedchamber. It was Regal, puffy with drink and fury. "Wallace!" He pointed an accusing finger at me. "Get him out of here. Get help to do it if you need it. You needn't be gentle!"
Wallace had not far to look. Two of Regal's brawny inland guardsmen had followed him up from the feasting. I was lifted off my feet; Regal had chosen burly men for this duty. I looked about for the Fool, for any ally, but the Fool had vanished. I caught a glimpse of a pale hand vanishing under the bed and resolutely looked away. I did not blame him. There was nothing he could do for me by staying except be thrown out with me.
"My father, has he disturbed your rest with his wild tales? And you so ill?" Regal bent solicitously over the bed.
They had me almost to the door when the King spoke. His voice was not loud, but command was in it. "Stand where you are," King Shrewd ordered the guards. He still was prone in his bed, but he turned his eyes to Regal. "Neatbay is besieged," King Shrewd said firmly. "We must send aid."
Regal shook his head sadly. "It is just another of the Bastard's ploys, to upset you and steal rest from you. There has been no call for help, no message of any kind."
One of the guards was very professional in his grip. The other seemed intent on dislocating my shoulder even if I refused to struggle against him. I carefully memorized his face while trying not to show the pain.
"You need not have troubled yourself, Regal. I will discover the truth or the lie here." Queen Kettricken had paused to dress. Short white fur jacket, purple trousers and boots. Her long Mountain sword was at her side and Burrich stood in the door, holding a heavy-hooded riding cloak and gloves. She spoke as one would to a spoiled child. "Go back to your guests. I will ride to Neatbay."
"I forbid it!" Regal's voice rang out strangely shrill. Stillness suddenly flooded the room.
Queen Kettricken pointed out quietly what everyone in the room already knew. "A Prince does not forbid the Queen-in-Waiting. I ride tonight."
Regal's face purpled. "This is a hoax, a plot of the Bastard's to throw Buckkeep into an uproar, and instill fear in the folk. There has been no word of an attack on Neatbay."
"Silence!" The King spat out the word. Everyone in the room froze. "FitzChivalry? Damn it, release that man. FitzChivalry, stand before me. Report. Whence came your news?"
I tugged my jerkin square again and smoothed my hair back. As I went to stand before my king I was painfully aware of my bare feet and tousled hair. I took a breath and threw it all away. "In my sleep I had a vision, sire. Of the Pocked Man, scrying in a pool of water. He showed me the Red-Ships at Neatbay."
I dared emphasize no word. I stood firm before them. One of the guardsmen snorted in disbelief. Burrich's jaw dropped open and his eyes widened. Kettricken merely looked confused. On the bed, King Shrewd closed his eyes and breathed out slowly.
"He's drunk," Regal declared. "Get him out of here." I had never heard so much satisfaction in Regal's voice. His guards reacted swiftly to seize me again.
"As…" — the King drew a deep breath in, obviously fighting pain — "I commanded." He found a bit of strength. "As I commanded. Go now. NOW!"
I jerked my arms free from the astonished guards. "Yes, Your Majesty," I said into the silence. I spoke clearly for the benefit of all. "That is, all warships dispatched to Neatbay, and as many of the fishing fleet as can be rallied. And all available horse to be sent overland, under Kerf's command."
"Yes." The King sighed the word. He swallowed, took a breath, opened his eyes. "Yes, I order it so. Now go."
"Some wine, my liege?" The Fool had materialized on the other side of the bed. I was the only one who startled. The Fool smiled a secret smile over that. Then he bent over the King, helping him to raise his head and sip at the wine. I bowed deeply, deeply, to my king. I straightened and turned to leave the room.
"You may ride with my guard, if you wish," Queen Kettricken told me.
Regal's face was scarlet. "The King did not tell you to go!" he sputtered at her.
"Nor did he `forbid' it." The Queen looked at him flatly.
"My queen!" One of her guard announced herself at the door. "We are ready to ride." I looked at her in astonishment. Kettricken merely nodded.
She glanced at me. "You'd best make haste, Fitz. Unless you plan to ride like that."
Burrich shook out the Queen's cloak for her. "Is my horse ready?" Kettricken asked her guard.
"Hands promised it at the door by the time you descended."
"I will need but a moment or two to ready myself," Burrich said quietly. I noticed he did not phrase it as a request.
"Go then. Both of you. Plan on catching up with us as quickly as you can."
Burrich nodded. He followed me to my room, where he helped himself to winter garb from my clothing chest while I got dressed. "Brush your hair back and wash your face," he ordered me tersely. "Warriors have more confidence in a man who looks like he expected to be awake at this hour."
I did as he advised and then we hastened down the stairs. His lame leg seemed forgotten tonight. Once we were in the courtyard, he started bellowing for stable boys to bring up Sooty and Rud. He sent another boy scrambling to find Kerf and pass on the orders, and another to ready every available horse in the stables. Four men he dispatched to town, one to the warships, three others to make the rounds of the taverns and rally the fleet. I envied his efficiency. He did not realize he had taken command away from me until we were mounting. He looked suddenly uncomfortable. I smiled at him. "Experience counts," I told him.
We rode for the gates. "We should be able to catch up with Queen Kettricken before she reaches the coast road," Burrich was saying just as a guardsman stepped out to bar our way.
"Hold!" he commanded, his voice breaking on the word.
Our horses reared back in alarm. We reined in. "What's this?" Burrich demanded.
The man stood firm. "You may pass, sir," he told Burrich respectfully. "But I have orders that the Bastard is not allowed out of Buckkeep."
"The Bastard?" I had never heard such outrage in Burrich's voice. "Say 'FitzChivalry, son of Prince Chivalry.' "
The man gaped at him in astonishment.
"Say it now!" Burrich bellowed, and pulled steel. He suddenly seemed twice as large as he had. Anger radiated from him in waves I could feel.
"FitzChivalry, son of Prince Chivalry," the man babbled.
He took a breath and swallowed. "But however I call him, I have my orders. He is not allowed out."
"Not an hour ago I heard our queen command us to ride with her, or to catch up as swiftly as we might. Do you say your order is superior to hers?"
The man looked uncertain. "One moment, sir." He stepped back into the guardhouse.
Burrich snorted. "Whoever trained him ought to be ashamed. He relies entirely on our honor to keep us from riding through."
"Maybe he just knows you," I suggested.
Burrich glared at me. After a moment the captain of the watch came out. He grinned at us. "Ride well, and best of luck at Neatbay."
Burrich flung him something between a salute and a farewell, and we urged our horses through. I let Burrich choose the pace. It was dark, but once we were down the hill, the road was straight and good and there was a bit of a moon. Burrich was as reckless as I had ever seen him, for he put the horses to a canter and kept up the pace until we saw the Queen's guard ahead of us. He slowed us just short of joining them. I saw them turn to recognize us, and one soldier raised a hand in greeting.
"A pregnant mare, in early pregnancy, does well to be exercised." He looked over at me through the darkness. "I don't know that much about women," he said hesitantly.
I grinned at him. "And you think I do?" I shook my head and grew sober. "I don't know. Some women don't ride at all when they are carrying. Some do. I think Kettricken would not put Verity's child at risk. Besides. She is safer with u
s here than left behind with Regal."
Burrich said nothing, but I sensed his assent. It was not all I sensed.
We hunt together again at last!
Quietly! I warned him with a sideways glance at Burrich. I kept my thoughts tiny and private. We go far. Will you be able to keep pace with the horses?
Over a short distance they can outspeed me. But nothing outdistances the trotting wolf.
Burrich stiffened slightly in his saddle. I knew Nighteyes was off to the side of the road, trotting through the shadows. It did feel good to be out and alongside him again. It felt good to be out and doing things. It was not that I rejoiced at Neatbay being attacked; it was that at last I would have a chance to do something about it, even if it was only to clean up whatever was left standing. I glanced over at Burrich. Anger radiated from him.
"Burrich?" I ventured.
"It's a wolf, isn't it?" Burrich spoke grudgingly into the darkness. He looked straight ahead as we rode. I knew the set of his mouth.
You know I am. A grinning, tongue-lolling reply.
Burrich flinched as if poked.
"Nighteyes," I admitted quietly, rendering the image of his name into human words. Dread sat me. Burrich had sensed him. He knew. No point in denying anything anymore. But there was a tiny edge of relief in it as well. I was deathly tired of all the lies I lived. Burrich rode on silently, not looking at me. "I did not intend for it to happen. It just did." An explanation. Not an apology.
I gave him no choice. Nighteyes was being very jocular about Burrich's silence.
I put my hand on Sooty's neck, took comfort in the warmth and life there. I waited. Burrich still said nothing. "I know you will never approve," I said quietly. "But it is not something I can choose. It is what I am."
It is what we all are. Nighteyes smirked. Come, Heart of the Pack, speak to me. Will not we hunt well together?
Heart of the Pack? I wondered.
He knows it is his name. It is what they called him, all those dogs that worshiped him, when they all gave tongue in the chase. It was what they taunted one another with. "Heart of the Pack, here, here, the game is here, and I have found it for you, for you!" So they all yelped and tried to be first to yelp it to him. But now they are all gone, taken far away. They did not like to leave him. They knew he heard, even if he would not reply. Had you never heard them?
I suppose I tried not to.
A waste. Why choose to be deaf? Or mute?
"Must you do this in my presence?" Burrich's voice was stiff.
"Beg pardon," I said, gravely aware that he was truly offended. Nighteyes snickered again. I ignored him. Burrich would not look at me. After a bit he nudged Ruddy and cantered forward to overtake Kettricken's guard. I hesitated, then kept pace with him. He formally reported to Kettricken of all he had done before leaving Buckkeep, and she nodded gravely as if accustomed to taking such reports. At a signal from her, we were honored to fall back and ride to her left, while her captain of the guard, one Foxglove, rode to her right. Before dawn found us, the rest of the mounted soldiers from Buckkeep had caught up with us. When they joined us, Foxglove slowed the pace for a time, to allow their winded horses to breathe. But after we had come to a stream and let all the beasts water, we pushed on determinedly. Burrich did not speak to me.
Years earlier, I had made a trip to Neatbay as part of Verity's entourage. Then it had taken us five days, but we had traveled with wagons and litters, jugglers and musicians and valets. This time we traveled by horse, with seasoned warriors, and we need not keep to the wide coast road. The only thing that did not favor us was the weather. By midmorning of our first day out, a winter storm swept in. It was miserable riding, not just for the physical discomfort but in the unsettling knowledge that the driving winds would slow our companion ships. Whenever our path took us overlooking the water, I watched for sails, but never saw any.
The pace Foxglove set was demanding but not destructive to horse or rider. While stops were not frequent, she varied the pace and saw that no animal wanted for water. At such stops, there was grain for the horses and hard bread and dried fish for their riders. If anyone ever noticed a wolf shadowing us, no one spoke of it. Two full days later, as dawn and a gap in the weather found us, we were looking out over the wide river valley that opened onto Neatbay.
Bayguard was the Keep of Neatbay. And Bayguard was the home Keep of Duke Kelvar and Lady Grace, the heart of Rippon Duchy. The watchtower was on a sandy cliff above the town. The Keep itself had been built on fairly level land, but fortified with a series of earthen walls and ditches. Once I had been told that no enemy had ever made it past the second wall. It was no longer true. We halted and looked out over the destruction.
The five Red-Ships were still drawn up on the beach. The boats of Neatbay, mostly small fishing vessels, were a burned and scuttled wreckage spread along the beach. The tides had played with them since the Raiders had destroyed them. Blackened buildings and smoldering wreckage fanned out from where they had landed, marking their path like a spreading contagion. Foxglove stood in her stirrups and pointed out over Neatbay, combining her observations with what she knew of the town and Keep. "It's a shallow, sandy bay, all the way out. So when the tide goes out, it goes way out. They've drawn their boats up too high. If we can force them to retreat, we want to do it on a low tide, when their ships are sitting high and dry. They've cut through the town like a hot knife through butter: I doubt there was much of an effort to defend it, it's not really defensible. Probably everyone headed for the Keep at the first sight of a red keel. It looks to me like the Outislanders have battered their way in past the third circle. But Kelvar should be able to hold them off almost indefinitely now. The fourth wall is worked stone. It took years to build. Bayguard has a good well, and her warehouses should still be fat with grain, this early in winter. She won't fall unless she falls to treachery." Foxglove stopped gesturing and settled in her saddle again. "It makes no sense, this attack," she said more softly. "How can the Red-Ships expect to sustain a long siege? Especially if they are, in turn, attacked by our forces?"
"The answer could be that they did not expect anyone to come to Bayguard's aid," Kettricken said succinctly. "They have the town to pillage for supplies, and perhaps other ships are expected." She turned to Kerf, motioned him alongside Foxglove. "I have no battle experience," she said simply. "You two will have to plan this. I listen now, as a soldier. What should we do next?"
I saw Burrich wince. Such honesty is admirable, but not always good leadership. I saw Foxglove and Kerf exchange measuring glances. "My queen, Kerf has more battle experience than I. I would accept his command," Foxglove offered quietly.
Kerf looked down, as if mildly ashamed. "Burrich was Chivalry's man. He has seen far more battles than I have," he observed to his mare's neck. He looked up suddenly. "I commend him to you, my queen."
Burrich's face was a struggle of conflicting emotions. For a moment his eyes lit. Then I saw a hesitation build.
Heart of the Pack, they will hunt well for you, Nighteyes urged him.
"Burrich, take command. They will fight with heart for you."
My skin prickled to hear Queen Kettricken virtually echo Nighteyes' thought. From where I sat, I could actually see a shiver run over Burrich. He straightened in his saddle. "We have no hope of surprising them in this flat country. And the three circles they have already gained can become defenses for them. We are not a vast force. What we have most of, my queen, is time. We can pen them. They have no access to fresh water. If Bayguard stands, and we keep the Outislanders trapped where they are, between the third earthwork and the wall, we can simply wait for our ships to arrive. At that time we can judge if we wish to join an attack on them, or simply starve them out."
"This seems wise to me," the Queen approved.
"They are fools if they have not left at least a small force with their ships. Those we will have to contend with immediately. Then we must set our own guards to the ships, with orders to destroy them
if it looks like any of the Outislanders have gotten past us and are trying to escape. If not, you will have ships to add to King-in-Waiting Verity's fleet."
"This, too, seems sensible." The idea clearly pleased Kettricken.
"It is tidy, but only if we act swiftly. They will soon be aware of us, if they are not already. Certainly they will see the situation as clearly as we have. We need to get down there, and contain those besieging the Keep and destroy those guarding the ships."
Kerf and Foxglove were both nodding. Burrich looked at them. "I want your archers for our circle around the Keep. We want to contain them there, not get into any close fighting. Simply pin them down where they are. Wherever they breached the walls is where they will try to trickle out again. Guard most heavily there, but watch all along the outer wall. And for now, do not try to go within the outer wall at all. Let them scuttle about like crabs in a pot."
Terse nods from both captains. Burrich continued.
"I want swords for the ships. Expect the fighting to be nasty. They'll be defending their only escape routes. Send a few lesser archers, and have them prepare fire arrows. If all else fails, burn the ships where they're beached. But try to take them first."
"The Rurisk!" Someone in the back ranks gave a cry. All heads turned to the water. There was the Rurisk, rounding the north tooth of Neatbay. In a moment a second sail appeared. Behind us, the mounted warriors raised a shout. But out beyond our ships, anchored in deep water, white as a dead man's belly and her sails as bloated, floated the white ship. The moment I saw it, an icicle of terror sliced my guts.
"The white ship!" I choked. Fear sent a shudder through me that was almost like pain.
"What?" Burrich asked, startled. It was the first word he had spoken to me that day.
"The white ship!" I repeated, and pointed a hand.
"What? Where? That? That's a fog bank. Our ships are coming into the harbor over there."
I looked. He was right. A fog bank, melting in the morning sun even as I watched. My terror receded like the ghost of mocking laughter. But the day seemed suddenly chillier, and the sun that had briefly parted the storm clouds a weak and watery thing. An evil cast lingered on the day, like a bad smell.
