Royal Assassin

He had painstakingly recopied Kettricken’s map over the last few days. As I watched he rolled it carefully and slid it into a leather case. The difference the last week had made in the man amazed me. He was still gray, his body still worn and sadly dwindled from too many months of sitting. But he moved with energy, and both he and Kettricken had graced the Great Hall every evening since the decision had been made. It had been a pleasure to watch him eat with an appetite, and once more linger over a glass of wine while Mellow or another of the minstrels entertained us all. The renewed warmth between Kettricken and him was another appetite he had recovered. Her eyes seldom left her lord’s countenance when they were at table. While the minstrels entertained, her fingers were always resting on the back of his forearm. She glowed in his presence like a burning candle. Shield myself as I might, I was all too aware of how much they enjoyed their nights. I had attempted to hide from their passions by immersing myself in Molly. I ended up feeling guilty that Molly was so pleased with my renewed ardor. How would she feel if she knew my appetites were not entirely my own?

The Skill. I had been warned of its powers and pitfalls, of how it might call to a man and drain him of everything except a hunger for its use. This was one trap I had never been warned about. In some ways, I was looking forward to Verity leaving so I could call my soul my own again.

“What you do in that tower is not a lesser task. If folk could but understand how you burn yourself for them . . .”

“As you understand only too well. We’ve grown close this summer, boy. Closer than I’d ever have thought possible. Closer than any man has been to me since your father died.”

Closer even than you might suspect, my prince. But I did not utter those words. “We have.”

“I’ve a favor to ask you. Two, actually.”

“You know that I won’t refuse you.”

“Never say that so easily. The first is that you look after my lady. She has grown wiser in Buckkeep ways, but she is still far too trusting. Keep her safe until I return.”

“That is always yours without asking, my prince.”

“And the other.” He took a breath, sighed it out. “I wish to try to stay here as well. In your mind. For as long as I can.”

“My prince.” I hesitated. He was right. This was not a thing I wished to grant him. But I had already said I would. I knew that for the sake of the kingdom, it was a wise thing to do. But for myself? Already I had felt the boundaries of my self eroding before Verity’s strong presence. We were not talking about a contact of hours now, or days, but of weeks and likely months. I wondered if this was what happened to coterie members, if eventually they ceased having separate lives. “What of your coterie?” I asked quietly.

“What of them?” he retorted. “I leave them in place, in the watchtowers and on my ships for now. Whatever messages they must send, they can send to Serene. In my absence, she will take them to Shrewd. If there is anything they feel I must know, they can Skill me.” He paused. “There will be other sorts of information that I would seek through you. Things I would prefer kept private.”

Tidings of his Queen, I thought to myself. How Regal would employ his powers in his brother’s absence. Gossip and intrigues. In one sense, trifling things. In another, the detail that secured Verity’s position. I wished for the thousandth time that I could Skill reliably of my own accord. If I had had that ability, Verity would not have needed to ask this of me. I would have been able to reach out to him at any time. But as matters stood, the touch-imposed Skill bond we had used over the summer was our only resource. Through it, he could be aware of what went on at Buckkeep when he chose to, and I could receive instructions from him. I hesitated, but already knew that I would accede. From loyalty to him and to the Six Duchies, I told myself. Not from any Skill hunger in myself. I looked up at him. “I will do it.”

“Knowing well that this is how it begins,” he said. It was not a question. Already, this was how accurately we could read one another. He did not wait for my answer. “I will be as inconspicuous as I can,” he promised. I walked to him. He lifted a hand and touched my shoulder. Verity was with me again, as he had not consciously been since the day in his study when he had bid me to shield myself.

The day of the departure was fine, crisply cold, but the skies were clear blue. Verity, true to his word, had kept his expedition to a minimum. Riders had been dispatched the morning after the council to precede him on his route and arrange supplies and lodgings in the towns where he would pass. This would allow him to travel swiftly and lightly through much of the Six Duchies.