Fool's Quest - Страница 122

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He sat a little straighter on his throne. “You did disobey me. You know that.”

I did. I felt childish as I tempered it with, “Not directly.”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. This does no honor to either of us. Fitz, you have stepped out of the shadows and into the sunlight where everything you do will be scrutinized. Because you are so newly restored to us, even your smallest action is of great interest and fuel for gossip. I am not Chade, able to invent an instant veil of lies to drape whatever you do in respectability.” He drew a breath in my silence. “Report. Leave nothing out. Tell me all you did not share with my mother and your daughter. Report to me as if I were Chade.”

I forgot myself. “How is Chade?”

“Somewhat better. You may go from here to his chamber and see for yourself. Later. Prince FitzChivalry Farseer, I am not reporting to you. Give me an account of all you did since you decided to leave Buckkeep Castle. Spare me nothing.”

I made my decision quickly. Perhaps it was time my king truly knew me. Perhaps his assassins should not conceal the dirty work they did for the throne. And what I was capable of doing for myself. And so I told him, and left out no detail. I spoke of drugging my companions, and how I had taken both carris seed and elfbark. And then I told him in detail of what I had done to the handsome rapist and to “Duke” Ellik.

He did not interrupt my account. His expression remained impassive. When I finished, he was silent for some time. I tried to be unobtrusive as I shifted my weight. He looked down on me. Did he evaluate me and find me wanting? Did he wish he had never drawn me out of the shadows?

“Prince FitzChivalry Farseer. You were a witness to my trying to run away from who and what I was. You reminded me of my duty and brought me back to it.

“I know you have not always been treated as if you were a prince. You have been given duties ill suited to your bloodlines, trained to tasks that should never have been yours. Or Chade’s. I know it was my grandfather’s will that put both of you on that path.

“And now it is my will that removes you from it.” He waited while I tried to make sense of his words. “Do you understand me? I see you don’t. Very well. Prince FitzChivalry Farseer, you are never again to consider yourself an assassin. Never to be the one to do the so-called quiet work or be the king’s justice. My justice will be rendered in daylight, before all. Not by poison or a knife in the dark. Now do you understand me?”

I nodded slowly. My head was spinning. So many times, over decades of my life, I had protested that I did not want to kill anymore. Over and over, I had said that I was no longer an assassin. But now my king snatched the title and those duties away from me, and it felt like a rebuke. I blinked. Not a husband. Scarcely a father. And not an assassin. What was left of me?

Had he sensed my question? “You will behave as befits a prince of the Farseer line. With honor and dignity. With courtesy. You will share the wisdom of your years with my sons and assist in guiding them through their early manhood. If I choose to send you on a diplomatic mission, you will go to negotiate, not poison someone! As Prince FitzChivalry Farseer.”

Each time he said my full name with that title attached to it, I almost felt as if he were reciting a magic spell of binding. As if he would set a boundary around me. I found I was nodding slowly. Was this what the Fool had meant? Someone would find a life for me. And what he was describing was not so terrible. So why did it feel so hollow?

He was still staring at me.

I bowed gravely. “I understand, my king.”

“Say it.” His words were stiff with command.

I drew a breath. The words I spoke seemed almost traitorous. “I am no longer your assassin, King Dutiful. I am to comport myself always as Prince FitzChivalry Farseer.”

“No.” He spoke precisely. “Not ‘comport.’ Be. You are Prince FitzChivalry Farseer.”

I hesitated. “Lady Rosemary—”

“Is Lady Rosemary.” Finality in that.

Questions darted about in my mind like trapped fish in a barrel.

“Prince FitzChivalry, I will look forward to seeing you at dinner this evening.”

I winced at the thought of plunging back into court life. He said more quietly, “Stand with your family, FitzChivalry. This is something we will bear together.”

That was a dismissal. I bowed again. “My king,” I said, and withdrew.

I was completely distracted as I passed through the antechamber and back into the corridors of Buckkeep Castle. I had no destination in mind when I heard a soft patter of hasty footsteps behind me. I turned to find Spark hurrying to catch up with me. “Sir, please, a moment!” Her cheeks were very pink and I knew a spike of terror. What had happened to the Fool?

But when she caught up to me, her news could not have startled me more. “Sir, I wished to let you know that I’ve finished moving your things to your new chambers.”

“My new chambers?”

“Rooms more fitting to your, um, new standing, sir.” Spark was plainly as uneasy with this as I was. She dangled a shining brass key attached to a braided silk fob. “You have the Heliotrope apartments now.”

I stared at her.

“I was told that they were once occupied by Lady Patience and her staff.”

Her staff. One serving woman. But the suite was substantially larger than my single bedchamber. Just down the hall from Lord Chade. With no access to the spy-warren. I was staring at Spark still.

“Of course, they’ve been redone since she lived there. Several times, I imagine. They’re very nice, sir. There’s a splendid view of the sea and you can look down on the gardens.”

“Yes. I know,” I said faintly.

“And your friend is to occupy the chambers once given to Lord Golden. Familiar rooms for him, though I am not to divulge that to anyone save you. I am to serve him now. As well as you, of course. I’ll have a room that is part of his chambers.”

A room I once occupied. I found my voice. “It sounds as if you’ve had a change in occupation as well.”

She shook her head and a curl escaped from her cap to dance on her brow. “Oh, no, sir, I’ve been a serving girl since I came to Buckkeep Castle.” She smiled but there was worry in her eyes. We shared that anxiety.

“Of course you have. Thank you.”

“Oh, your key, sir. Here. To your new chambers.”

“Thank you.” I accepted it gravely. “I think I shall call on Lord Chade now.”

“As you will, sir, I’m sure.” She curtsied again, this time with a bit of a flourish, then turned and hurried off. I made my way to Chade’s chambers, suspecting that he was behind these changes, for some arcane reason of his own. I expected he would explain everything to me.

I tapped on the door, and a servant admitted me. I turned toward his bedchamber, but the serving man waved toward the sitting room instead. I breathed a sigh of relief. He was better, then.

His sitting room was decorated in moss green and acorn brown. A handsome portrait of King Shrewd in his prime hung over the fireplace. A warm and spicy aroma from a steaming pot flavored the air. Chade, attired in a soft dressing gown, was seated by the fire. Shine sat in a cushioned chair across from him, a cup in her hands. She wore a simple and modest dress, and the green brought out her eyes. Her hair was braided and coiled at the back of her neck. Kettricken’s influence, I was certain. They both looked toward me as I entered. Shine seemed apprehensive to see me.

But it was Chade who stopped me in my tracks. He smiled at me benevolently. It was an old man’s gentle, bemused smile. In the short time since I’d last seen him, he’d aged. I could see the shape of his skull beneath the thinning flesh on his face. His eyes looked almost glassy. I wondered for an instant if he recognized me. Then, “Oh, there you are, my boy. Just in time. Shine has made us some tea. It’s lovely. Would you care for some?”

“What kind is it? I don’t recognize the fragrance.” I advanced slowly into the room. Chade gestured to a chair beside his own, and I cautiously sank into it.

“Oh, it’s tea, you know. Made from spices and whatnot. Ginger, I think. Licorice root, perhaps? It’s sweet. And spicy. Very pleasant on a cold day.”

“Thank you,” I said, for Shine had already poured a cup and was offering it to me. I smiled as I took it. “It’s almost as if you were expecting me.”

“Oh, it’s always nice to have company. I was hoping Lant would come by. Have you met my boy Lant?”

“Yes. Yes, I have. You sent him to me at Withywoods, remember? To be a teacher for my little girl. For Bee.”

“I did? Yes, yes. A teacher. Lant would do well at that. He’s a kind soul. A gentle soul.”

He was nodding as he spoke. No. Not nodding. It was a palsy, a shaking of his head. I glanced at Shine. She met my gaze, but said nothing.

“Chade. Please,” I said, not knowing what I asked for. “Are you well?”

“He’s well enough,” Shine said, warning me. “When no one makes him fret. Or brings up unpleasant things.” I wondered if she were not in much the same state.

I lifted the cup of tea to my mouth and let it lap against my lip as I smelled it. No herbs that I knew as medicine. I watched Shine take a sip of hers. Her gaze met mine. “There are some calming herbs in the tea as well. But they are very mild.”

“Very mild,” Chade agreed and again gave me an unnervingly genial smile.

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