Assassin’s Fate

Fellowdy rose, nodded at her several times, and then almost ran from the room. Even I could tell that she had given him the errand he most desired to be rid of him.

As soon as the door closed behind him, she stood. ‘Guards. Let us return her to her cell. There is work to do.’

One guard hoarsely asked, ‘Shall I fetch Coultrie and bring back Fellowdy for his key?’

She lifted a shoulder, dismissing it. She almost smiled. ‘From now on, a lock of two will suffice, I am sure.’

THIRTY Barriers and a Black Banner

A big set of scales, like the money-changer at Oaksbywater has. On one pan a bee alights, and the pan is suddenly weighed all the way down. A very old woman, her face impassive, asks, ‘What is the value of this life? What is a fair measure to buy it?’

A blue buck comes charging across the market. It leaps and lands in the empty pan. The bee’s pan rises and they balance exactly.

The very old woman nods and smiles. Her teeth are red and pointed.

From Bee Farseer’s dream journal

I have never liked climbing down a ladder into a ship’s boat. I always imagine I will step wrong at that crucial moment. Climbing up the worn wooden ladder onto the docks was almost as bad. The firepots bounced against my back as I climbed. The beautiful Buck cloak was already too warm. And the exposed barnacles on the dock’s legs told me that the tide was already starting to go out. Anchoring the ship in the deepest section of the harbour had taken a maddeningly long time. ‘Hurry,’ I said needlessly to my companions. ‘The causeway to the castle is open at the lowest tide. We need to get there, trade the fire-brick for coin and buy our passage tickets.’

One after another, they followed me up on to the dock. Spark was now Sparkle, a very well-turned-out young lady of substance who cursed colourfully when her lace petticoat snagged on some barnacles. Lant looked rather a dandy in his elegant vest, lacy shirt and plumed hat. I did not like my green shirt with the blue cloak, but hoped the contrast would simply mark me as a foreigner and an acceptably wealthy merchant. Per was the only one who looked comfortable in his well-worn clothes. The knife at his hip was long, but not so long as to attract comment.

Brashen and Althea had ridden in with us. There had been little conversation. Now Althea said only, ‘Good luck.’

‘Thank you,’ I replied.

Brashen nodded slowly and they walked away from us. I watched as they turned and strolled toward the warehouses that fronted onto the docks, doubtless to see what sort of merchandise was being loaded out of them. They paced side by side, together and yet apart. Matching stride like two horses long in harness together. I would have had Molly’s hand on my arm, and she would have looked up at me and talked and laughed as we walked. They turned a corner and were gone. I blew out a breath and hoped I would not be bringing disaster down on them and their ship.

I turned to my small party. ‘Are you ready?’ Nods. I looked down at the men who had rowed us to the docks. They looked as merry as sailors who had drunk all night, returned to the ship for a fiery dressing down, and then had to row from the harbour to the docks. ‘You’ll be here?’ I asked them. ‘When we come back?’ Reluctantly I added, ‘It may be quite a wait.’

One of Etta’s sailor soldiers had ascended with us and was checking my knots. She straightened, shrugged, and said, ‘Every sailor knows how to wait. We’ll be here.’ She offered me a grin. ‘Nice togs, Prince FitzChivalry. Luck to yer. I’d hate to see them clothes get bloody.’

‘Me, too,’ I said quietly.

Her grin widened. ‘Do ’em rough, cap. Getcher little girl back.’

This wish, from a relative stranger, inexplicably cheered me. I nodded and my small party followed me as we moved down the docks. ‘Are we going to look for Amber first?’ Lant asked me.

I shook my head. ‘That would be a useless waste of time. She has the butterfly cloak. If she has decided to hide, we will not see her. And she certainly won’t see us.’

Spark frowned as she took my arm, a very proper daughter. ‘Why wouldn’t she?’

‘Because she’s blind.’

‘No, she’s not. Short-sighted, yes, but no longer blind. I told you that.’

‘What? When?’

‘Her vision has come back to her. Very slowly, and still imperfect. But when you share a room with someone, such a thing is hard to conceal.’

I controlled my breathing, and smiled as if we discussed the weather. ‘Why didn’t she tell me that? Why didn’t you tell me that?’