Assassin’s Fate

‘Oh, Fitz. No. The dreams do not even make it my choice. It is simply a divide in the possible ways the future may go.’ His voice grew tight. ‘On one, the Destroyer dies and the Unexpected Son lives. On the other, the Unexpected Son perishes. So, if it comes down to some act of mine, an act I cannot foresee, but desperately hope it will not, I will do what I must to see that Bee lives. Bee is who I will preserve, at all costs.’ His voice squeaked to a halt. Tears glinted in his sightless eyes.

‘Of course. Yes. That would be my choice as well.’

‘Knowing that still does not make me eager to confront such a decision.’

A tap at the door stopped his words and he hastily wiped his tears on his sleeve. I opened the door. ‘I’m sorry it took so long. I had to wait for the water to boil,’ Spark said. She angled sideways to carry the tray into the room, pushed aside garments and set the tray on the bunk. ‘We’ve not much left of the Kelsingra teas. What would you like?’

The Fool smiled. Spark looked at me accusingly. She knew he’d been weeping. The Fool spoke. ‘Actually, I’ve a tea I brought from Buckkeep. I’ve been saving it, but tonight I think I shall indulge myself. It has peppermint and spearmint from the Women’s Garden, and fine grated gingerroot dried to a powder. A bit of elderberry as well.’

‘Patience used to brew that for me,’ I recalled, and he smiled as he groped among his possessions and brought out a little leather pouch.

‘I got the recipe from Burrich,’ he admitted. ‘There is just enough for a pot. Dump it in.’ He handed the pouch to Spark, and she upended it into the waiting teapot. As it brewed, the fragrance of a homely time, of simple teas and simple pleasures, filled the small room. Spark poured for us and we drank tea together as if we were not going to face death the next day. The fragrance stirred old memories, and Fool told her a tale or two of how Buckkeep Castle had been, once upon a time. He spoke of his fondness for King Shrewd and the pranks Hands and I had played in the stables. Of Garetha the garden girl who had loved him from afar, and Cook Nutmeg’s wonderful bread. Of Smithy and ginger-cakes and how the Women’s Garden smelled when the summer sun struck the lavender.

Spark was reclining on her bunk and the Fool’s eyes were closed. When his voice faded to a murmur, I slipped away, closing the door softly behind me. I went to my hammock between Lant’s and Per’s. I climbed in and to my astonishment sleep came to find me.

TWENTY-SEVEN Feather to Blade

To Merchants Clifton, Anrosen and Bellidy,

With our greatest apologies, we are unable to fulfil the terms of our contract with you. Our liveship, Kendry, has become unmanageable, and a threat to not only his own captain and crew but to other vessels we encounter. He has twice deliberately taken on water to spoil cargo. He fights the rudder and lists at will.

For the safety and security of our crew, and of your cargoes, we therefore must terminate our agreement. You have the right to bring suit against us for this breach. However, if you are willing, we have made arrangements with the liveship Ophelia, owned and managed by the Tenira family, a fine Bingtown Trader family with a long history of reliable dealings. At no additional cost to you, they will take over our contracts and fulfil them.

We hope you will agree that this is the most equitable arrangement for all of us.

With the utmost respect,

Captain Osfor of the liveship Kendry