The Farseer Series Books 2 and 3: Royal Assassin, Assassin’s Quest

‘Once he was very young.’ Chade permitted himself a small smile. ‘Perhaps he remembers that Constance was a woman chosen for him by his parents. He did not court her willingly, nor wed her gladly. It took her death to make him know how deeply he had come to love her. Desire, on the other hand, he chose for himself, in a passion that fevered him.’ He paused. ‘I will not speak ill of the dead.’

‘This is different,’ I said.

‘How?’

‘I am not to be king. Whom I wed affects no one but me.’

‘Would it were that simple,’ Chade said softly. ‘Can you believe you can refuse Celerity’s courtship without offending Brawndy? At a time when the Six Duchies needs every bond of unity?’

‘I am convinced I can make her decide she does not want me.’

‘How? By being an oaf? And shaming Shrewd?’

I felt caged. I tried to think of solutions, but found only one answer in me. ‘I will marry no one except Molly.’ I felt better simply by saying it aloud. I met Chade’s eyes.

He shook his head. ‘Then you will marry no one,’ he pointed out.

‘Perhaps not,’ I acceded. ‘Perhaps we shall never be married in name. But we shall have a life together …’

‘And little bastards of your own.’

I stood convulsively, my fists knotting of their own accord. ‘Don’t say that,’ I warned Chade. I turned away from him to glare into his fire.

‘I wouldn’t. But everyone else will.’ He sighed. ‘Fitz, Fitz, Fitz.’ He came up behind me and put his hands on my shoulders. Very, very gently, he said, ‘It might be best to let her go.’

The touch and the gentleness had disarmed me of my anger. I lifted my hands to cover my face. ‘I cannot,’ I said through my fingers. ‘I need her.’

‘What does Molly need?’

A little chandlery with bee hives in the back yard. Children. A legitimate husband. ‘You are doing this for Shrewd. To make me do as he wishes,’ I accused Chade.

He lifted his hands from my shoulders. I listened to him walk away, to wine being poured into a single cup. He brought his wine with him to his chair and sat down before his fire.

‘I’m sorry.’

He looked at me. ‘Someday, FitzChivalry,’ he warned me, ‘those words will not be enough. Sometimes it is easier to pull a knife out of a man than to ask him to forget words you have uttered. Even words uttered in anger.’

‘I am sorry,’ I repeated.

‘So am I,’ he said shortly.

After a time, I asked humbly, ‘Why did you wish to see me tonight?’

He sighed. ‘Forged ones. Southwest of Buckkeep.’

I felt ill. ‘I had thought I would not have to do that any more,’ I said quietly. ‘When Verity put me on a ship to Skill for him, he said that perhaps …’

‘This does not come from Verity. It was reported to Shrewd, and he wishes it taken care of. Verity is already … overtaxed. We do not wish to trouble him with anything else just now.’

I put my head back into my hands. ‘Is there no one else who can do this?’ I begged him.

‘Only you and I are trained for this.’

‘I did not mean you,’ I said wearily. ‘I do not expect you to do that sort of work any more.’

‘Don’t you?’ I looked up to find the anger back in his eyes. ‘You arrogant pup! Who do you think kept them from Buckkeep all summer, Fitz, while you were out on the Rurisk? Did you think that because you wished to avoid a task, the need for such work ceased?’

I was as shamed then as I have ever been. I looked aside from his anger. ‘Oh, Chade. I am sorry.’

‘Sorry that you avoided it? Or sorry that you thought me incapable of doing it any more?’

‘Both. Everything,’ I conceded it all suddenly. ‘Please, Chade, if one more person I care about becomes angry with me, I don’t think I shall be able to bear it.’ I lifted my head and looked at him steadily until he was forced to meet my eyes.

He lifted a hand to scratch at his beard. ‘It has been a long summer for both of us. Pray El for storms to drive the Red Ships away forever.’

We sat a time in silence.

‘Sometimes,’ Chade observed, ‘it would be much easier to die for one’s king than to give one’s life for him.’

I bowed my head in assent. The rest of the night we spent preparing the poisons I would need in order to begin killing for my king again.

EIGHTEEN (#ulink_9e46d9c3-4ca2-5ec4-997c-7410c2d2dd26)

Elderlings (#ulink_9e46d9c3-4ca2-5ec4-997c-7410c2d2dd26)

The autumn of the third year of the Red Ship War was a bitter one for King-in-Waiting Verity. His warships had been his dream. He had founded all his hopes on them. He had believed he could rid his own coast of Raiders, and be so successful at it that he could send forth raiders against the hostile Outisland coasts even during the worst of the winter storms. Despite early victories, the ships never achieved the command of the coast that he had hoped they would. Early winter found him with a fleet of five ships, two of which had recently sustained severe damage. One intact was the captured Red Ship vessel, which had been refitted and sent out with a crew to assist in patrols and escorting of merchant vessels. When the winds of autumn finally arrived, only one of his shipmasters expressed enough confidence in his crew’s skills and his vessel to be willing to undertake a raid against the Outislander coasts. The other masters argued for at least one winter of practising seamanship along our own rough coast, and another summer of practising tactics before undertaking such an ambitious goal.

Verity would not send unwilling men, but neither did he hide his disappointment. He expressed it well when he outfitted the one willing ship, for the Revenge, as the vessel had been renamed, was provisioned handsomely. The master’s hand-picked crew were outfitted as well, in whatever armour they chose for themselves, and were given new weapons of the best craftsmanship available. There was quite a ceremony at her send-off, with even King Shrewd in attendance despite his failing health. The Queen herself hung the gull’s feathers from the ship’s mast that are said to bring a vessel swiftly and safely back to her home port. A great cheer arose as the Revenge set out, and the health of the captain and crew were drunk many times over that evening.

A month later, to Verity’s chagrin, we would receive word that a vessel matching that description was pirating in the calmer waters to the south of the Six Duchies, and bringing much misery to the merchants of Bingtown and the Chalced States. That was as much news of the captain and crew and ship as ever came back to Buckkeep. Some blamed it on the Outislanders among the crew, but there were as many good Six Duchies hands aboard as Outislanders, and the captain had been raised right in Buckkeep Town. This was a crushing blow to Verity’s pride and to his leadership of his people. Some believe it was then that he decided to sacrifice himself in the hopes of finding a final solution.

I think the Fool put her up to it. Certainly he had spent a great many hours in the tower-top garden with Kettricken, and his admiration for what she had accomplished there was unfeigned. Much goodwill can be won with a sincere compliment. By the end of the summer, not only was she laughing at his jests when he came up to entertain her and her ladies, but he had persuaded her to be a frequent caller in the King’s chambers. As Queen-in-Waiting, she was immune to Wallace’s humours. Kettricken herself undertook to mix King Shrewd strengthening tonics, and for a time the King did seem to rally under her care and attention. I think the Fool decided that he would accomplish through her what he had been unable to nag Verity and me into doing.

It was a wintry autumn evening when she first broached the subject to me. I was up on the tower top with her, helping her to tie bundles of straw about the more tender of the plants there, that they might withstand the winter snows better. This was something Patience had decreed must be done, and she and Lacey were performing the same task on a bed of windbower plants behind me. She had become a frequent advisor to Queen Kettricken in matters of growing things, albeit a very timid one. Little Rosemary was at my elbow, handing me twine as we needed it. One or two of Kettricken’s other ladies, well-bundled, had stayed, but they were at the other end of the garden, talking quietly together. The others she had dismissed back to their hearths when she had noted them shivering and blowing on their fingers. My bare hands were near numb, as were my ears, but Kettricken seemed perfectly comfortable. As was Verity, tucked away somewhere inside my skull. He had insisted that I start carrying him again after he had discovered that once more I was going out after Forged ones alone. I scarcely noticed his presence in the back of my mind any more. Yet I believe that I felt him startle when Kettricken asked me, as she knotted a string about a bundled plant I was supporting, what I knew of the Elderlings.

‘Little enough, my lady queen,’ I replied honestly, and once more made a promise to myself to go through the long neglected manuscripts and scrolls.