The Farseer Series Books 2 and 3: Royal Assassin, Assassin’s Quest. Robin Hobb
kill people. He had also offered, wordlessly, to be my friend. I had accepted both offers.
The stone steps were cold. Here there were still cobwebs and dust and soot above the sconces on the walls. So the housekeeping hadn’t extended to this staircase. Nor to Chade’s quarters. They were as chaotic, disreputable and comfortable as ever. At one end of his chamber was his working hearth, bare stone floors and an immense table. The usual clutter overflowed it: mortars and pestles, sticky dishes of meat scraps for Slink the weasel, pots of dried herbs, tablets and scrolls, spoons and tongs, and a blackened kettle, still sending a reeking smoke curling into the chamber.
But Chade was not there. No, he was at the other end of the chamber, where a fatly cushioned chair faced a hearth with a dancing fire. Carpets overlay one another over the floor there, and an elegantly carved table held a glass bowl of autumn apples and a decanter of summer wine. Chade was ensconced in the chair, a partially unrolled scroll held to the light as he read it. Did he hold it farther from his nose than once he had, and were his spare arms more desiccated? I wondered if he had aged in the months I had been away, or if I had simply not noticed before. His grey woollen robe looked as well worn as ever, and his long grey hair overlay its shoulders and seemed the same colour. As always, I stood silent until he deigned to look up and recognize my presence. Some things changed, but some things did not.
He finally lowered the scroll and looked my way. He had green eyes, and their lightness was always surprising in his Farseer face. Despite the pox-like scars that stippled his face and arms, his bastard bloodlines were almost as plain marked as mine. I suppose I could have claimed him as a great-uncle, but our apprentice to master relationship was closer than a blood-tie. He looked me over and I self-consciously stood straighter under his scrutiny. His voice was grave as he commanded, ‘Boy, come into the light.’
I advanced a dozen steps and stood apprehensively. He studied me as intently as he had studied the scroll. ‘Were we ambitious traitors, you and I, we would make sure folk marked your resemblance to Chivalry. I could teach you to stand as he stood; you already walk as he did. I could show you how to add lines to your face to make you appear older. You have most of his height. You could learn his catch phrases, and the way he laughed. Slowly, we could gather power, in quiet ways, with none even recognizing what they were conceding. And one day, we could step up and take power.’
He paused.
Slowly I shook my head. Then we both smiled, and I came to sit on the hearth stones by his feet. The warmth of the fire on my back felt good.
‘It’s my trade, I suppose.’ He sighed and took a sip of his wine. ‘I have to think of these things, for I know that others will. One day, sooner or later, some petty noble will believe it an original idea and approach you with it. Wait and see if I am not right.’
‘I pray you are wrong. I have had enough of intrigues, Chade, and not fared as well at that game as I had expected to.’
‘You did not do badly, with the hand you were dealt. You survived.’ He looked past me into the fire. A question hung between us, almost palpably. Why had King Shrewd revealed to Prince Regal that I was his trained assassin? Why had he put me in the position of reporting to and taking orders from a man who wished me dead? Had he traded me away to Regal, to distract him from his other discontents? And if I had been a sacrificial pawn, was I still being dangled as bait and a distraction to the younger prince? I think not even Chade could have answered all my questions, and to ask any of them would have been blackest betrayal of what we were both sworn to be: King’s Men. Both of us long ago had given our lives into Shrewd’s keeping, for the protection of the royal family. It was not for us to question how he chose to spend us. That way lay treason.
So Chade lifted the summer wine and filled a waiting glass for me. For a brief time we conversed of things that were of no import to any save us, and all the more precious for that. I asked after Slink the weasel, and he haltingly offered sympathy over Nosy’s death. He asked a question or two that let me know he was privy to everything I had reported to Verity, and a lot of stable gossip as well. I was filled in on the minor gossip of the keep, and all the doings I had missed among the lesser folk while I was gone. But when I asked him what he thought of Kettricken our Queen-in-Waiting, his face grew grave.
‘She faces a difficult path. She comes to a queenless court, where she herself is and yet is not the Queen. She comes in a time of hardship, to a kingdom facing both Raiders and civil unrest. But most difficult for her is that she comes to a court that does not understand her concept of royalty. She had been besieged with feasts and gatherings in her honour. She is used to walking out among her own people, to tending her own gardens and looms and forge, to solving disputes and sacrificing herself to spare her people hardship. Here, she finds, her society is solely the nobility, the privileged, the wealthy. She does not understand the consumption of wine and exotic foods, the display of costly fabrics in dress, the flaunting of jewels that are the purpose of these gatherings. And so she does not “show well”. She is a handsome woman, in her way. But she is too big, too heartily muscled, too fair amongst the Buckkeep women. She is like a charger stabled among hunters. Her heart is good, but I do not know if she will be sufficient to the task, boy. In truth, I pity her. She came here alone, you know. Those few who accompanied her here have long since returned to the mountains. So she is very alone here, despite those who court her favour.’
‘And Verity,’ I asked, troubled. ‘He does nothing to allay that loneliness, nothing to teach her of our ways?’
‘Verity has little time for her,’ Chade said bluntly. ‘He tried to explain this to King Shrewd before the marriage was arranged, but we did not listen to him. King Shrewd and I were beguiled with the political advantages she offered. I forgot there would be a woman here, in this court, day after day. Verity has his hands full. Were they just a man and a woman, and given time, I think they could genuinely care for one another. But here and now, they must devote all their efforts to appearance. Soon an heir will be demanded. They have no time to get to know one another, let alone care for one another.’ He must have seen the pain in my face, for he added, ‘That’s how it has always been for royalty, boy. Chivalry and Patience were the exception. And they bought their happiness at the cost of political advantages. It was unheard of, for the King-in-Waiting to marry for love. I’m sure you’ve heard over and over how foolish a thing it was.’
‘And I’d always wondered if he’d cared.’
‘It cost him,’ Chade said quietly. ‘I don’t think he regretted his decision. But he was King-in-Waiting. You don’t have that latitude.’
Here it came. I’d suspected he’d know everything. And useless to hope he’d say nothing. I felt a slow flush steal up my face. ‘Molly.’
He nodded slowly. ‘It was one thing when it was down in town, and you were more or less a boy. That could be ignored. But now you’re being seen as a man. When she came here asking after you, it started tongues wagging and folk speculating. Patience was remarkably agile at hushing the rumours and taking charge of the situation. Not that I’d have kept the woman here, had it been left to me. But Patience handled it well enough.’
‘The woman …’ I repeated, stung. If he’d said ‘the whore’ I couldn’t have felt it more sharply. ‘Chade, you misjudge her. And me. It began as a friendship, a long time ago, and if anyone was at fault in … how things went, it was me, not Molly. I’d always thought that the friends I made in town, that the time I spent there as “Newboy” belonged to me.’ I faltered to a halt, hearing only the foolishness of my words.
‘Did you think you could lead two lives?’ Chade’s voice was soft but not gentle. ‘We belong to the King, boy. King’s Men. Our lives belong to him. Every moment, of every day, asleep or awake. You have no time for your own concerns. Only his.’
I shifted slightly, to look into the fire. I considered what I knew of Chade in that light. I met him here, by darkness, in these isolated chambers. I had never seen him out and about around Buckkeep. No one spoke his name to me. Occasionally, disguised as Lady Thyme, he ventured forth. Once we had ridden together through the night, to that first awful Forging at Forge. But even that had been at the King’s command. What did Chade have for