Royal Assassin

“What’s this, boy? The door barred? What goes on here? Regal, what goes on here?” It pained me to hear the King’s voice crack querulously.

I crossed the room, I unbarred the door. It was flung open before I could touch it, and two of Regal’s more muscular guards seized me. They wore his satin colors like bulldogs with ribbons about their necks. I offered no resistance, so they had no real excuse to throw me up against the wall, but they did. It awoke every pain I still bore from yesterday. They held me there while Wallace rushed in, tut-tutting about how cold the room was, and what was this, eating this, why, it was no less than poison to a man in King Shrewd’s condition. Regal stood, hands on hips, very much the man in charge, and stared at me through narrowed eyes.

Rash, my boy. I very much fear that we have overplayed our hand.

“Well, Bastard? What have you to say for yourself? Exactly what were your intentions?” Regal demanded when Wallace’s litany ran down. He actually added another log to the fire in the already stifling room, and took the half-eaten pastry from the King’s hand.

“I came to report. And finding the King ill cared for, sought to remedy that situation first.” I was sweating, more from pain than nervousness. I hated to see Regal smile at it.

“Ill cared for? What exactly are you saying?” he accused me.

I took a breath for courage. Truth. “I found his chamber untidy and musty. Dirty plates left about. The linens of his bed unchanged—”

“Dare you to say such things?” Regal hissed.

“I do. I speak the truth to my King, as I ever have. Let him look about with his own eyes and see if it is not so.”

Something in the confrontation had stirred Shrewd to a shadow of his old self. He pushed himself up in bed and looked about himself. “The Fool has likewise made these complaints, in his own acid way—” he began.

Wallace dared to interrupt him. “My lord, the state of your health has been tender. Sometimes uninterrupted rest is more important than rolling you out of your bed to fuss with a change of blankets or linen. And a dish or two stacked about is less annoyance than the rattle and prattle of a page come in to tidy.”

King Shrewd looked suddenly uncertain. My heart smote me. This was what the Fool had wished me to see, why he had so often urged me to visit the King. Why had not he spoken more plainly? But then, when did the Fool ever speak plainly? Shame rose in me. This was my King, the King I had sworn to. I loved Verity, and my loyalty to him was unquestioning. But I had abandoned my King at the very moment when he needed me most. Chade was gone, for how long I did not know. I had left King Shrewd with no more than the Fool to protect him. And yet when had King Shrewd ever needed anyone to shelter him before? Always that old man had been more than capable of guarding himself. I chided myself that I should have been more emphatic with Chade about the changes I noted when first returned home. I should have been more watchful of my sovereign.

“How did he get in here?” Regal suddenly demander with a savage glare at me.

“My prince, he had a token from the King himself, he claimed. He said the King had promised always to see him if he but showed that pin—”

“What rot! You believed such nonsense—”

“Prince Regal, you know it is true. You were witness whey King Shrewd first gave it to me.” I spoke quietly but clearly. Within me, Verity was silent, waiting and watching, and learning much. At my expense, I thought bitterly, and then strove to call back the thought.

Moving calmly and unthreateningly, I pulled one wrist free of a bulldog’s grip. I turned back the collar of my jerkin and drew the pin out. I held it up for all to see.

“I recall no such thing,” Regal snapped, but Shrew sat up.

“Come closer, boy,” he instructed me. Now I shrugged clear of my guards and tugged my clothing straight. Then bore the pin up to the King’s bedside. Deliberately, King Shrewd reached out. He took the pin away from me. My hear sank inside me.

“Father, this is—” Regal began annoyedly, but Shrews interrupted him.

“Regal. You were there. You do recall it, or you should.” The King’s dark eyes were bright and alert as I remembered them, but also plain were the lines of pain about those eyes and the corner of his mouth. King Shrewd fought for this lucidity. He held the pin up and looked at Regal with a shadow of his old calculating glance. “I gave the boy this pin. And my word in exchange for his.”

“Then I suggest you take them back again, pin and word both. You will never get well with this type of disruption going on in your rooms.” Again, that edge of command in Regal’s voice. I waited, silent.