Farseer 1 - Assassin's Apprentice

by Robin Hobb

  "FitzChivalry Farseer," Verity said in his sleep. King Shrewd and Chade played at dice bones together. Patience stirred in her sleep. "Chivalry?" she asked softly. "Is that you?"

  "No," I said. "It's no one. No one at all."

  She nodded and slept on.

  When my eyes focused again, it was dark and I was alone. My jaws trembled, and my chin and shirtfront were wet with my own saliva. The numbness seemed less. I wondered if that meant the poison wouldn't kill me. I doubted that it mattered; I would have small chance to speak in my own behalf. My hands had gone numb. At least they didn't hurt anymore. I was horribly thirsty. I wondered if Rurisk was dead yet. He had taken a lot more of the wine than I had. And Chade had said it was quick.

  As if in answer to my question, a cry of purest pain rose to the moon. The ululation seemed to hang there, and to pull my heart out with it as it rose. Nosy's master was dead.

  I flung myself toward him, wrapped the Wit around him. I know, I know, and we shivered together as one he had loved passed beyond reach. The great aloneness wrapped us together.

  Boy? Faint, but true. A paw and a nose, and a door edged open. He padded toward me, his nose telling me how bad I smelled. Smoke and blood and fear sweat. When he reached me, he lay down beside me and put his head on my back. With the touch came the bond again. Stronger now that Rurisk was gone.

  He left me. It hurts.

  I know. A long time passed. Free me? The old dog lifted his head. Men cannot grieve as dogs do. We should be grateful for that. But from the depths of his anguish, he still rose, and set worn teeth to my bonds. I felt them loosen, a strand at a time, but had not even the strength to pull them apart. Nosy turned his head to set his back teeth to them.

  At last the thongs parted. I pulled my arms forward. That made everything hurt differently. I still could not feel my hands, but I could roll over and get my face out of the straw. Nosy and I sighed together. He put his head on my chest and I wrapped a stiff arm around him. Another tremor shook me. My muscles clenched and unclenched themselves so violently that I saw dots of light. But it passed, and I still breathed.

  I opened my eyes again. Light blinded me, but I did not know if it was real. Beside me, Nosy's tail thumped the straw. Burrich slowly sank down beside us. He put a gentle hand on Nosy's back. As my eyes adjusted to his lantern I could see the grief in his face. "Are you dying?" he asked me. His voice was so neutral, it was like hearing a stone speak.

  "I'm not sure." That was what I tried to say. My mouth still wasn't working very well. He rose and walked away. He took the lantern with him. I lay alone in the dark.

  Then the light came back and Burrich with a bucket of water. He lifted my head and sloshed some into my mouth. "Don't swallow it," he cautioned me, but I couldn't have made those muscles work anyway. He washed out my mouth twice more and then half drowned me trying to get me to drink some. I fended off the bucket with a wooden hand. "No," I managed.

  After a bit my head seemed to clear. I moved my tongue against my teeth and could feel them. "I killed Cob," I told him.

  "I know. They brought his body out to the stables. No one wanted to tell me anything."

  "How did you know to find me?"

  He sighed. "I just had a feeling."

  "You heard Nosy."

  "Yes. The howling."

  "That isn't what I meant."

  He was quiet a long time. "Sensing a thing isn't the same as using a thing."

  I couldn't think of anything to say back to that. After a while I said, "Cob is the one who knifed you on the stairs."

  "Was he?" Burrich considered. "I had wondered why the dogs barked so little. They knew him. Only Smithy reacted."

  My hands screamed suddenly to life. I folded them to my chest and rocked over them. Nosy whined.

  "Stop it," Burrich hissed.

  "Just now, I can't help it," I replied. "It all hurts so bad, I'm spilling out all over."

  Burrich was silent. "Are you going to help me?" I asked finally.

  "I don't know," he said softly, and then, almost pleadingly, "Fitz, what are you? What have you become?"

  "I am what you are," I told him honestly. "A king's man. Burrich, they're going to kill Verity. If they do, Regal will become King."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "If we stay here while I explain it all, it will happen. Help me get out of here."

  He seemed to take a very long time to think about it. But in the end, he helped me to stand and I held on to his sleeve as I staggered out of the stables and into the night.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  The Wedding

  THE ART OF DIPLOMACY is the luck of knowing more of your rival's secrets than he knows of yours. Always deal from a position of power. These were Shrewd's maxims. And Verity abided by them.

  "You have to get August. He's the only hope Verity has." We were sitting in the grayness before dawn on a hillside above the palace. We had not gotten far. The terrain was steep, and I was in no condition for hiking. I was beginning to suspect that Regal's kick had renewed Galen's old damage to my ribs. Every deep breath stabbed me. Regal's poison still sent tremors through me, and my legs buckled often and unpredictably. Alone, I could not stand, for my legs would not support me. I could not even cling to a tree trunk and hold myself upright; there was no strength in my arms. Around us in the dawn forest birds called, squirrels were gathering stores for the winter, and insects chirred. It was hard, in the midst of all that life, to wonder how much of this damage was permanent. Were the days and strength of my youth already spent, and nothing left to me but trembling and weakness? I tried to push the question from my mind., to concentrate on the greater problems facing the Six Duchies. I stilled myself, as Chade had taught me. Around us, the trees were immense, with a presence like peace. I understood why Eyod would not cut them for timber. Their needles were soft beneath us, the fragrance soothing. I wished I could just lie back and sleep, like Nosy at my side. Our pains still mingled together, but at least Nosy could escape his in sleep.

  "What makes you think August would help us?" Burrich asked. "If I could get him out here."

  I pulled my thoughts back to our dilemma. "I don't think he's involved with the rest of it. I think he is still loyal to the King." I had presented my information to Burrich as my own careful conclusions. He was not a man likely to be convinced by phantom voices overheard in my head. So I could not tell him that Galen had not suggested killing August, and therefore he was probably ignorant of their plot. I was still unsure myself of what I had experienced. Regal could not Skill. Even if he could, how could I have overheard Skilling between two others? No, it had to be something else, some other magic. Of Galen's devising? Was he capable of a magic that strong? I did not know. So much I did not know. I forced myself to set it all aside. For now, it fit the facts I had, better than any other supposition I could imagine.

  "If he's loyal to the King, and has no suspicions of Regal, then he is loyal to Regal as well," Burrich pointed out as if I were a witling.

  "Then we'll have to force him, somehow. Verity must be warned."

  "Of course. I'll just walk in, put a knife to August's back, and march him out of there. No one will bother us."

  I floundered for ideas. "Bribe someone to lure him out here. Then jump him."

  "Even if I knew someone bribable, what would we use?"

  "I have this." I touched the earring in my ear.

  Burrich looked at it and almost jumped. "Where did you get that?"

  "Patience gave it to me. Right before I left."

  "She had no right!" And then, more quietly: "I thought it went to his grave with him."

  I was silent, waiting.

  Burrich looked aside. "It was your father's. I gave it to him." He spoke quietly.

  "Why?"

  "Because I wanted to, obviously." He closed the topic.

  I reached up and began to unfasten it.

  "No," he said gruffly. "Keep it where it is. But it is not a thing to be
spent in a bribe. These Chyurda can't be bribed anyway."

  I knew he was right about that. I tried to think of other plans. The sun was coming up. Morning, when Galen would act. Perhaps had already acted. I wished I knew what was going on in the palace below. Did they know I was missing? Was Kettricken preparing to pledge herself to a man she would hate? Were Sevrens and Rowd dead yet? If not, could I turn them against Regal by warning them?

  "Someone's coming!" Burrich flattened himself. I lay back, resigned to whatever happened. I had no physical fight left in me. "Do you know her?" Burrich breathed.

  I turned my head. Jonqui, preceded by a little dog that would never climb a tree for Rurisk again. "The King's sister." I didn't bother whispering. She was carrying one of my nightshirts, and an instant later the tiny dog was leaping joyously around us. He romped invitingly at Nosy, but Nosy just looked at him mournfully. An instant later Jonqui strode up to us.

  "You must come back," she said to me without preamble. "And you must hurry."

  "Hard enough to come back," I told her, "without hurrying to my death." I was watching behind her for other trackers. Burrich had risen and taken a defensive posture over me.

  "No death," she promised me calmly. "Kettricken has forgiven you. I have been counseling her since last night, but only lately convinced her. She has invoked her kin right to forgive kin for injury to kin. By our law, if kin forgive kin, no other can do otherwise. Your Regal sought to dissuade her, but only made her angry. `Here, while I am in this palace, I can still invoke the law of the mountain people,' she told him. King Eyed agreed. Not because he does not mourn Rurisk, but because the strength and wisdom of Jhaampe law must be respected, by all. So, you must come back."

  I considered. "And have you forgiven me?"

  "No," she snorted. "I do not forgive my nephew's murderer. But I cannot forgive you for what you did not do. I do not believe you would drink wine you had poisoned. Not even a little. Those of us who know best the dangers of poisons tempt them least. You would have just pretended to drink, and never spoken of poison at all. No. This was done by someone who believes himself very clever, and believes others are very stupid."

  I felt rather than saw Burrich lower his guard. But I couldn't completely relax. "Why can't Kettricken just forgive me and let me go away? Why must I come back?"

  "There is no time for this!" Jonqui hissed, and it was the closest I had seen to an angry Chyurda. "Shall I take months and years to teach you all I know about balances? For a pull, a push, for a breath, a sigh? Do you think no one can feel how power slews and tilts just now? A princess must endure being bartered away like a cow. But my niece is not a playing piece to be won in a dice game. Whoever killed my nephew clearly wished you to die also. Shall I let him win that toss? I think not. I do not know who I wish to win; until I do, I will let no player be eliminated."

  "That's logic I understand," Burrich said approvingly. He stooped and hauled me suddenly to my feet. The world rocked alarmingly. Jonqui came to put her shoulder under my other arm. They walked and my feet marionetted across the ground between them. Nosy heaved himself to his feet and followed. And so we returned to the palace at Jhaampe.

  Burrich and Jonqui took me right through the people gathered all throughout the grounds and palace to my room. I actually excited little interest. I was just an outlander who had had too much wine and smoke last night. People were too absorbed in finding good places from which to view the dais to worry about me. There was no air of mourning, so I assumed the word of Rurisk's death had not been released. When we finally entered my room, Jonqui's placid face darkened.

  "I did not do this! I only took a nightshirt, to give Ruta a scent."

  "This" was the disassembly of my room. It had been thoroughly if not discreetly done. Jonqui immediately set to putting things right, and after a moment Burrich helped her. I sat in a chair and tried to make sense of the situation. Nosy, unnoticed, curled up in a corner. I unthinkingly extended comfort to him. Burrich immediately glanced at me, then at the woebegone dog. He looked away. When Jonqui left to fetch wash water and food for me, I asked Burrich, "Have you found a tiny wooden chest? Carved with acorns?"

  He shook his head. So they had taken my poison cache. I would have liked to prepare another dagger, or even a powder to fling. Burrich could not be always beside me to protect me, and I certainly couldn't fend off an attacker, or run away in my present condition. But my trade tools were gone. I would have to hope I wouldn't need them. I suspected Rowd was the one who had been here and wondered if this had been his last act. Jonqui returned with water and food and then excused herself. Burrich and I shared wash water and with some help I managed to change into clean, if simple, clothes. Burrich ate an apple. My stomach quailed at the mere thought of food, but I drank the water, cold from the well, that Jonqui had brought me. Getting my throat muscles to swallow still took conscious effort, and I felt like the water sloshed unpleasantly inside me. But I suspected it was good for me.

  And I felt each moment ticking by, and wondered when Galen would make his move.

  The screen slid aside. I looked up, expecting Jonqui again, but August entered on a wave of contempt. He spoke immediately, anxious to do his errand and depart. "I do not come here of my own volition. I come at the bidding of the King-in-Waiting, Verity, to speak his words for him. This is his message, exactly. He is grieved beyond telling by-"

  "You Skilled to him? Today? Was he well?"

  August seethed at my question. "He was scarcely well. He is grieved beyond telling at Rurisk's death, and at your betrayal. He bids you draw strength from those around you loyal to you, for you will need it to face him."

  "Is that all?" I asked.

  "From the King-in-Waiting, Verity, it is. Prince Regal bids you attend upon him, and swiftly, for the time of the ceremony is only hours away, and he must be attired for it. And your cowardly poison, no doubt meant for Regal, has found poor Sevrens and Rowd. Now Regal must do with an untrained valet. It will take him longer to dress. So do not keep him waiting. He is in the steams, to try to restore himself. You may find him there."

  "How tragic for him. An untrained valet," Burrich said acidly.

  August puffed up like a toad. "It is scarcely humorous. Have not you lost Cob as well to this scoundrel? How can you bear to aid him?"

  "If your ignorance were not protecting you, August, I might dispel it." Burrich stood, looking dangerous.

  "You, too, will face charges," August warned him as he retreated. "I am to say to you, Burrich, that King-in-Waiting Verity is not unaware of how you attempted to help the bastard escape, serving him as if he were your king instead of Verity. You will be judged."

  "Did Verity say so?" Burrich asked curiously.

  "He did. He said you were once the best of king's men to Chivalry, but apparently you had forgotten how to aid those who truly serve the King. Recall it, he bids you, and assures you of his great wrath if you do not return to stand before him and receive what your deeds merit."

  "I recall it only too well. I will bring Fitz to Regal."

  "Now?"

  "As soon as he has eaten."

  August glowered at him and left. Screens cannot be effectively slammed, but he tried.

  "I have no stomach to eat, Burrich," I protested.

  "I know that. But we need time for this. I marked Verity's choice of words, and found more in them than August did. Did you?"

  I nodded, feeling defeated. "I understood also. But it is beyond me."

  "Are you sure? Verity does not think so, and he knows of such things. And you told me that was why Cob tried to kill me, because they suspected you of drawing on my strength. So Galen believes you can do it, too." Burrich crossed to me and went down stiffly on one knee. His bad leg stretched awkwardly behind him. He took my lax hand and placed it on his shoulder. "I was king's man to Chivalry," he told me quietly. "Verity knew it. I have no Skill myself, you understand. But Chivalry gave me to understand that for such a taking, it was not as important
as the friendship between us. I have strength, and there were some few times that he needed it, and I gave it willingly. So I have withstood this before, in worse circumstances. Try, boy. If we fail, we fail, but at least we will have tried."

  "I don't know how. I don't know how to Skill, and I certainly don't know how to tap someone else's strength to do it. And even if I did, if I succeeded, I might kill you."

  "If you succeed, our king may live. That is what I am sworn to. And you?" He made it all seem so simple.

  So I tried. I opened my mind, I reached for Verity. I tried, with no idea how, to draw strength from Burrich. But all I heard was the twittering of birds outside the palace walls, and Burrich's shoulder was only a place to rest my hand. I opened my eyes. I didn't have to tell him I'd failed; he knew. He sighed heavily.

  "Well. I suppose I take you to Regal," he said.

  "If we did not go, we would be forever curious as to what he wanted," I added.

  Burrich did not smile. "You have a fey mood on you," he said. "You sound more like the Fool than yourself."

  "Does the Fool talk to you?" I asked curiously.

  "Sometimes," he said, and took my arm to help me up.

  "It seems like the closer I walk to death," I told him, "the funnier everything seems."

  "To you, perhaps," he said crossly. "I wonder what he wants."

  "To bargain. There can be nothing else. And if he wants to bargain, we may be able to gain something."

  "You speak as if Regal follows the same rules of common sense as the rest of us. I've never known him to do that. And I've always hated court intrigue," Burrich complained. "I'd rather clean stalls." He pulled me again to my feet.

  If I had ever wondered how deadroot felt to its victim, I knew it now. I did not think I would die of it. But I did not know how much of a life it would leave me either. My legs trembled under me, and my grip was uncertain. I could feel random muscle twitches throughout my body. Neither my breath nor the beating of my heart was predictable. I longed to be still, where I could listen to my own body and decide what had been done to it. But Burrich guided my steps patiently, and Nosy drooped along behind us.