And Regal had said, twice last night, that he had asked his father to send Lady Thyme. But he had like­wise be­trayed her name to Kettricken. Who did Regal really want dead? Prince Rurisk? Or Lady Thyme, or I, after an as­sas­sin­a­tion at­tempt was dis­covered? And how did any of it be­ne­fit him, and this mar­riage he had en­gin­eered? And why was he in­sist­ing I kill Rurisk, when all the polit­ical ad­vant­ages were to his liv­ing?

  I needed to talk to Chade. I couldn’t. I had to some­how de­cide this, my­self. Un­less.

  Ser­vants again brought wa­ter and fruit. I arose and dressed in my an­noy­ing clothes, and ate, and left my cham­bers. This day was much the same as yes­ter­day. The hol­i­day at­mo­sphere was be­gin­ning to wear on me. I at­temp­ted to em­ploy my time to ad­vant­age, en­lar­ging my know­ledge of the palace, its routines and lay­out. I found Eyod’s, Kettricken’s, and Rurisk’s cham­bers. I also care­fully stud­ied the stair­case and sup­port struc­tures to Regal’s. I dis­covered that Cob slept in the stables, as did Burrich. I ex­pec­ted that of Burrich; he would not sur­render the care of Buck­keep horses un­til he left Jhaampe; but why was Cob sleep­ing there? To im­press Burrich, or to watch him? Sevren and Rowd both slept in the ante­cham­ber of Regal’s apart­ments, des­pite a plen­it­ude of rooms in the palace. I tried to study the dis­tri­bu­tion and sched­ules of the guards and sentries, but couldn’t find any. And all the while I watched for Au­gust. It took me the bet­ter part of the morn­ing be­fore I could find him in quiet cir­cum­stance. ‘I need to talk to you. Privately,’ I told him.

  He looked an­noyed, and glanced about to see if any­one were watch­ing us. ‘Not here, Fitz. Maybe when we get back to Buck­keep. I’ve of­fi­cial du­ties, and …’

  I had been pre­pared for that. I opened my hand, to show him the pin the King had given me so many years ago. ‘Do you see this? I had it from King Shrewd, a long time ago. And with it, his prom­ise that if I ever needed to speak to him, I need only show it and I would be ad­mit­ted to his cham­bers.’

  ‘How touch­ing,’ Au­gust ob­served cyn­ic­ally. ‘And had you some reason for telling me this story? To im­press me with your im­por-tance, per­haps?’

  ‘I need to speak to the King. Now.’

  ‘He isn’t here,’ Au­gust poin­ted out. He turned to walk away.

  I took hold of his arm, turned him back to me.

  ‘You can Skill to him.’

  He shook me off an­grily, and glanced about us again. ‘I most cer­tainly can­not. And would not, if I could. Do you think every man who can Skill is al­lowed to in­ter­rupt the King?’

  ‘I have shown you the pin. I prom­ise you, he would not re­gard this as an in­ter­rup­tion.’

  ‘I can­not.’

  ‘Ver­ity, then.’

  ‘I do not Skill to Ver­ity un­til he Skills to me first. Bas­tard, you don’t un­der­stand. You took the train­ing and you failed at it, and you really have not the slight­est com­pre­hen­sion of what the Skill is about. It is not like hal­loo­ing to a friend across a val­ley. It is a ser­i­ous thing, not to be used ex­cept for ser­i­ous pur­poses.’ Again he turned away from me.

  ‘Turn back, Au­gust, or re­gret it long.’ I put every ounce of men­ace I could into my voice. It was an empty threat; I had no real way to make him re­gret it, other than threat­en­ing to tattle to the King. ‘Shrewd will not be pleased that you ig­nored his token.’

  Au­gust turned slowly back. He glared at me. ‘Well. I will do this thing, then, but you must prom­ise to take all blame for it.’

  ‘I will. Will you come to my cham­bers, then, and Skill for me now?’

  ‘Is there no other place?’

  ‘Your cham­bers?’ I sug­ges­ted.

  ‘No, that is even worse. Do not take it amiss, bas­tard, but I do not wish to seem to as­so­ci­ate with you.’

  ‘Take it not amiss, lord­ling, that I feel the same about you.’

  In the end, on a stone bench, in a quiet part of Kettricken’s herb-garden, Au­gust sat down and closed his eyes. ‘What mes­sage am I to Skill to Shrewd?’

  I con­sidered. This would be a game of riddles, if I were to keep Au­gust un­aware of my true prob­lem. ‘Tell him Prince Rurisk’s health is ex­cel­lent, and we may all hope to see him live to old age. Regal still wishes to give him the gift, but I do not think it ap­pro­pri­ate.’

  Au­gust opened his eyes. ‘The Skill is an im­port­ant …’

  ‘I know. Tell him.’

  So Au­gust sat and took sev­eral breaths, and closed his eyes. After a few mo­ments, he opened his eyes. ‘He says to listen to Regal.’

  ‘That’s all?’

  ‘He was busy. And very ir­rit­ated. Now leave me alone. I fear you’ve made me a fool be­fore my king.’

  There were a dozen witty replies I could have made to that. But I let him walk away. I wondered if he had Skilled to King Shrewd at all. I sat down on the stone bench and re­flec­ted that I had gained noth­ing at all, and wasted much time. The tempta­tion came and I tried it. I closed my own eyes, breathed, fo­cused, opened my­self. Shrewd, my king.

  Noth­ing. No reply. I doubt that I Skilled at all. I rose and went back into the palace.

  Again that day, at noon, Kettricken as­cen­ded the dais alone. Her words today were just as simple, as she an­nounced that she was bind­ing her­self to the people of the Six Duch­ies. From this mo­ment hence, she was their Sac­ri­fice, in all things, for any reason that they com­manded of her. And then she thanked her own people, blood of her blood, who had raised her and treated her well, and re­minded them she did not change her al­le­gi­ance out of any lack of af­fec­tion for them, but only in the hopes that it would be­ne­fit both peoples. Again the si­lence held as she des­cen­ded the steps. To­mor­row would be her day to pledge her­self to Ver­ity as a wo­man to a man. From what I un­der­stood, Regal and Au­gust would stand be­side her to­mor­row in Ver­ity’s stead, and Au­gust would Skill that Ver­ity might see his bride make her pledge to him.

  The day dragged for me. Jon­qui came and took me to visit the Blue Foun­tains. I did my best to be in­ter­ested and pleas­ant. We re­turned to the palace for more min­strels and feast­ing and that even­ing’s dis­plays of arts by the moun­tain people. Jug­glers and ac­robats per­formed, and dogs did tricks and swords­men dis­played their prowess in staged bouts. Blues­moke was very much in evid­ence, and many were in­dul­ging, swinging their tiny censers be­fore them as they milled about and talked to one an­other. I un­der­stood that for them, it was like a car­ris seed cake, a hol­i­day in­dulge­ment, but I avoided the trail­ing smoke of the burn-pots. I had to keep a clear head. Chade had sup­plied me with a po­tion to clear the head of wine fumes, but I had and knew of none for smoke. And I was un­used to smoke. I found a clearer corner and stood ap­par­ently en­rap­tured by a min­strel’s song, but watch­ing Regal over his shoulder.

  Regal sat at a table, flanked by two brass burn­ers. A very re­served Au­gust sat a slight way away from him. From time to time they spoke, Au­gust ser­i­ously, the prince dis­missively. I was not close enough to hear the words, but I saw my name and Skill from Au­gust’s lips. I saw Kettricken ap­proach Regal, and noted that she avoided be­ing in the dir­ect draught of the smoke. Regal spoke long to her, smil­ing and lan­guid, and reached once to tap her hand and the sil­ver rings she wore. He seemed to be one of those that the smoke made talk­at­ive and boast­ful. She seemed to teeter like a bird on a branch, now draw­ing closer to him and smil­ing, now draw­ing back and be­com­ing more formal. Then Rurisk came, to stand be­hind his sis­ter. He spoke to Regal briefly, and then took Kettricken’s arm and drew her away. Sevrens ap­peared and re­plen­ished Regal’s burn­ers. Regal gave a fool­ish smile of thanks and said some­thing, in­dic­at­ing the whole hall with a wave of his hand. Sevrens laughed, and left. Shortly af­ter­ward, Cob and Rowd ar­rived to speak to Regal. Au­gust rose and stalked in­dig­nantly off. Regal glared, and sent Cob to fetch him back. Au­gust came, but not gra­ciously. Regal re­buked, and Au­gust glowered, then lowered his eyes and con­ceded. I wished des­per­ately that I were close enough to hear what was said. Some­thing, I felt, was def­in­itely afoot. It might be noth­ing to do with me and my task. But some­how I doubted it.

  I went over my mea­gre store of facts, feel­ing sure I was miss­ing the sig­ni­fic­ance of some­thing. But I also wondered if I were not de­ceiv­ing my­self. Per­haps I was over-re­act­ing to everything. Per­haps the safest course was simply to do as Regal told me and let him ac­cept the re­spons­ib­il­ity. Per­haps I should save time and cut my own throat.

  I could, of course, go dir­ectly to Rurisk, tell him that, des­pite my best ef­forts, Regal still wanted him dead, and beg asylum of him. After all, who would not find at­tract­ive a trained as­sas­sin who had already turned on one mas­ter?

  I could tell Regal I was go­ing to kill Rurisk and then simply not do it. I thought care­fully about that.

  I could tell Regal I was go­ing to kill Rurisk, and then kill Regal in­stead. The smoke, I told my­self. Only the smoke made that sound so wise.

  I could go to Burrich and tell him I was really an as­sas­sin, and ask his ad­vice about my situ­ation.

  I could take the Prin­cess’s mare and ride off into the moun­tains.

  ‘So, are you en­joy­ing your­self?’ Jon­qui asked as she came up and took my arm.

  I real­ized I was star­ing at a man jug­gling knives and torches. ‘I shall long re­mem­ber this ex­per­i­ence,’ I told her. And then sug­ges­ted a stroll through the cool of the gar­dens.

  Late that night, I re­por­ted to Regal’s cham­ber. Rowd ad­mit­ted me this time, smil­ing pleas­antly. ‘Good even­ing,’ he greeted me, and I walked in as if into a wol­ver­ine’s den. But the air within the cham­ber was blue with smoke, and this seemed the source of Rowd’s cheer­ful­ness. Regal kept me wait­ing again, and though I tucked my chin to my chest and breathed shal­lowly, I knew the smoke was af­fect­ing me. Con­trol, I re­minded my­self, and tried not to feel the gid­di­ness. I shif­ted in my seat sev­eral times, and fi­nally re­sor­ted to cov­er­ing my mouth and nose openly with a hand. It had small ef­fect on screen­ing the smoke.

  I looked up as the screen to the in­ner cham­ber slid aside, but it was only Sevrens. He glanced at Rowd, then came to sit be­side me. After a mo­ment of his si­lence, I asked, ‘Will Regal see me now?’

  Sevrens shook his head. ‘He is with a … com­pan­ion. But he has trus­ted me with all you need to know.’ He opened his hand on the bench between us, to show me a tiny white pouch. ‘He has ob­tained this for you. He trusts you will ap­prove. A little of this, mixed with wine, will cause death, but not soon. There will not even be symp­tom of death for sev­eral weeks, and then it comes as a leth­argy that gradu­ally in­creases. The man does not suf­fer,’ he ad­ded, as if this were my primary con­cern.

  I racked my brains. ‘Is this Kex gum?’ I had heard of such a poison, but never seen it. If Regal had a source, Chade would want to know.

  ‘I do not know its name, nor does it mat­ter. Only this. Prince Regal says you will have a use for it to­night. You will make an op­por­tun­ity.’

  ‘What does he ex­pect of me? That I will go to his cham­bers, knock, and enter with poisoned wine for him? Isn’t that a bit ob­vi­ous?’

  ‘Done that way, of course it is. But surely your train­ing has given you more fin­esse than that?’

  ‘My train­ing tells me that things like this are not dis­cussed with a valet. I must hear this from Regal, or I do not act.’

  Sevrens sighed. ‘My mas­ter foresaw this. This is his mes­sage. By the pin you carry and the crest on your breast, he com­mands this. Re­fuse it, and you re­fuse your king. You will be com­mit­ting treason, and he will see you hang for it.’

  ‘But I …’

  ‘Take it and go. The longer you wait, the later it is, and the more con­trived will seem your visit to his cham­bers.’

  Sevrens rose ab­ruptly and left me. Rowd sat like a toad in the corner, eye­ing me and smil­ing. I would have to kill both of them be­fore we re­turned to Buck­keep, if I were to pre­serve my use­ful­ness as an as­sas­sin. I wondered if they knew that. I smiled back at Rowd, tast­ing smoke in the back of my throat. I took my poison and left.

  Once at the base of Regal’s stair­case, I re­treated to the wall where it was most shad­owed, and clambered as swiftly as I could up one of the sup­ports of Regal’s cham­ber. Cling­ing like a cat, I snugged my­self up to the sup­ports of the cham­ber floor and waited. And waited. Un­til between the smoke whirl­ing in my head and my own wear­i­ness and the linger­ing ef­fects of Kettricken’s herbs, I wondered if I were dream­ing all of it. I wondered if my clumsy trap would yield me noth­ing. I con­sidered, fi­nally, that Regal had told me he had spe­cific­ally re­ques­ted Lady Thyme. But Shrewd had sent me in­stead. I re­called how Chade had puzzled over that. And fi­nally, I re­called his words to me. Had my king given me up to Regal? And if he had, what did I owe to any of them? Even­tu­ally, I saw Rowd de­part, and after what seemed a very long time, re­turn with Cob.

  I could hear little through the floor, but enough to know Regal’s voice. My even­ing’s plans were be­ing di­vulged to Cob. When I was cer­tain of it, I wriggled out of my hid­ing-place, clambered down and re­treated to my own room. There I made cer­tain of some spe­cial­ized sup­plies. I re­minded my­self, firmly, that I was a King’s man. I had told Ver­ity so. I left my cham­ber and walked softly through the palace. In the great hall, the com­mon folk slept on mats on the floor, in con­cent­ric circles around the dais, to have re­served the best view­ing of their prin­cess’s pledging to­mor­row. I walked among them and they did not stir. So much trust, so ill-placed.

  The cham­bers of the roy­als were at the ex­treme rear of the palace, farthest from the main entry. There were no guards. I walked past the door that led to the bed­room of the re­clus­ive King, past Rurisk’s door, and to Kettricken’s. Her door was dec­or­ated with hum­ming­birds and hon­ey­suckle. I thought how much the Fool would have liked it. I tapped lightly and waited. Slow mo­ments passed. I tapped again.

  I heard the scuff of bare feet on wood, and the painted screen slid open. Kettricken’s hair had been freshly braided, but fine strands had already pulled free around her face. Her long white nightrobe ac­cen­ted her fair­ness, so that she seemed as pale as the Fool. ‘Did you need some­thing?’ she asked sleepily.

  ‘Only the an­swer to a ques­tion.’ The smoke still twined through my thoughts. I wanted to smile, to be witty and clever be­fore her. Pale beauty, I thought. I pushed the im­pulse aside. She was wait­ing. ‘If I killed your brother to­night,’ I said care­fully, ‘what would you do?’

  She did not even draw back from me. ‘I would kill you, of course. At least, I would de­mand it done, in justice. As I am pledged to your fam­ily now, I could not take your blood my­self.’

  ‘But would you go on with the wed­ding? Would you still marry Ver­ity?’

  ‘Would you like to come in?’

  ‘I haven’t time. Would you marry Ver­ity?’

  ‘I am pledged to the Six Duch­ies, to be their queen. I am pledged to their people. To­mor­row, I pledge to the King-in-Wait­ing. Not to a man named Ver­ity. But even were it oth­er­wise, ask your­self, which is the most bind­ing? I am bound already. It is not just my word, but my father’s. And my brother’s. I would not want to marry a man who had ordered my brother’s death. But it is not the man I am pledged to. It is the Six Duch­ies. I am given there, in the hopes of it be­ne­fit­ing my people. There I must go.’

  I nod­ded. ‘Thank you, my lady. For­give my dis­turb­ing your rest.’

  ‘Where do you go now?’

  ‘To your brother.’

  She re­mained stand­ing in her door as I turned and walked to her brother’s cham­ber. I tapped and waited. Rurisk must have been rest­ive, for he opened the door much more quickly.

  ‘May I come in?’

  ‘Cer­tainly.’ Gra­cious, as I had ex­pec­ted. The edge of a giggle teased at my re­solve. Chade would not be proud of you just now, I coun­selled my­self, and re­fused to smile.

  I entered and he closed the door be­hind me. ‘Shall we have wine?’ I asked him.

  ‘If you wish it,’ he said, puzzled but po­lite. I seated my­self on a chair while he un­stoppered a carafe and poured for us. There was a censer on his table, too, still warm. I had not seen him in­dulge earlier. He prob­ably had thought it more safe to wait un­til he was alone in his cham­ber. But you never can tell when an as­sas­sin will come call­ing with a pocket full of death. I pushed down a silly smile. He filled two glasses. I leaned for­ward, and showed him my twist of pa­per. Painstak­ingly, I tipped it into his wine, picked up the glass and swirled it to see it well dis­solved. I handed it to him.

  ‘I’ve come to poison you, you see. You die. Then Kettricken kills me. Then she mar­ries Ver­ity.’ I lif­ted my glass and sipped from it. Apple wine. From Far­row, I guessed. Prob­ably part of the wed­ding gifts. ‘So what does Regal gain?’

  Rurisk eyed his wine with dis­taste, and set it aside. He took my glass from my hand. He drank from it. There was no shock in his voice as he said, ‘He’s rid of you. I gather he does not value your com­pany. He has been very gra­cious to me, ex­tend­ing many gifts to me as well as to my king­dom. But if I were dead, Kettricken would be left sole heir to the Moun­tain King­dom. That would be­ne­fit the Six Duch­ies, would it not?’

  ‘We can­not pro­tect the land we already have. And I think Regal would see it as be­ne­fit­ing Ver­ity, not the king­dom.’ I heard a noise out­side the door. ‘That will be Cob, com­ing to catch me in the act of pois­on­ing you,’ I sur­mised. I rose, went to the door, and opened it. Kettricken pushed past me into the room. I closed the screen quickly be­hind her.

 

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