Assassin's Apprentice (The Illustrated Edition) Page 23

  I sat still as a mouse. Slink came and perched on my knee. It was rare to hear Chade so talkative, especially about matters relating to the royal family. I scarcely breathed for fear of interrupting him.

  “Sometimes I think there was something in Patience that Chivalry instinctively knew he needed. He was a thoughtful, orderly man, always correct in his manners, always aware of precisely what was going on around him. He was chivalrous, boy, in the best sense of that word. He did not give in to ugly or petty impulses. That meant he exuded a certain air of restraint at all times. So those who did not know him well thought him cold or cavalier.

  “And then he met this girl…and she was scarcely more than a girl. And there was no more substance to her than to cobwebs and sea foam. Thoughts and tongue always flying from this to that, nitterdy-natterdy, with never a pause or connection I could see. It used to exhaust me just to listen to her. But Chivalry would smile, and marvel. Perhaps it was that she had absolutely no awe of him. Perhaps it was that she didn’t seem particularly eager to win him. But with a score of more eligible ladies, of better birth and brighter brains, pursuing him, he chose Patience. And it wasn’t even timely for him to wed; when he took her to wife, he shut the gate on a dozen possible alliances that a wife could have brought him. There was no good reason for him to get married at that time. Not one.”

  “Except that he wanted to,” I said, and then I could have bitten out my tongue. For Chade nodded, and then gave himself a bit of a shake. He took his gaze off the fire and looked at me.

  “Well. Enough of that. I won’t ask you how you made such an impression on her, or what changed her heart toward you. But last week she came to Shrewd and demanded that you be recognized as Chivalry’s son and heir and given an education appropriate to a prince.”

  I was dizzied. Did the wall tapestries move before me, or was it a trick of my eyes?

  “Of course he refused,” Chade continued mercilessly. “He tried to explain to her why such a thing is totally impossible. All she kept saying was, ‘But you are the King. How can it be impossible for you?’ ‘The nobles would never accept him. It would mean civil war. And think what it would do to an unprepared boy, to plunge him suddenly into this.’ So he told her.”

  “Oh,” I said quietly. I couldn’t remember what I had felt for the one instant. Elation? Anger? Fear? I only knew that the feeling was gone now, and I felt oddly stripped and humiliated that I had felt anything at all.

  “Patience, of course, was not convinced at all. ‘Prepare the boy,’ she told the King. ‘And when he is ready, judge for yourself.’ Only Patience would ask such a thing, and in front of both Verity and Regal. Verity listened quietly, knowing how it must end, but Regal was livid. He becomes overwrought far too easily. Even an idiot should know Shrewd could not accede to Patience’s demand. But he knows when to compromise. In all else, he gave way to her, mostly I think to stop her tongue.”

  “In all else?” I repeated stupidly.

  “Some for our good, some for our detriment. Or at least, for our damned inconvenience.” Chade sounded both annoyed and elated. “I hope you can find more hours in the day, boy, for I’m not willing to sacrifice any of my plans for hers. Patience has demanded that you be educated as befits your bloodlines. And she has vowed to undertake such educating herself. Music, poetry, dance, song, manners…I hope you’ve a better tolerance for it than I did. Though it never seemed to hurt Chivalry. Sometimes he even put such knowledge to good use. But it will take up a good part of your day. You’ll be acting as page for Patience as well. You’re old for it, but she insisted. Personally, I think she regrets much and is trying to make up for lost time, something that never works. You’ll have to cut back your weapons training. And Burrich will have to find himself another stable boy.”

  I didn’t give a peg about the weapons training. As Chade had often pointed out to me, a really good assassin worked close and quietly. If I learned my trade well, I wouldn’t be swinging a long blade at anyone. But my time with Burrich—again I had the odd sensation of not knowing how I felt. I hated Burrich. Sometimes. He was overbearing, dictatorial, and insensitive. He expected me to be perfect, yet bluntly told me that I would never be rewarded for it. But he was also open, and blunt, and believed I could achieve what he demanded….

  “You’re probably wondering what advantage she won us,” Chade went on obliviously. I heard suppressed excitement in his voice. “It’s something I’ve tried for twice for you, and been twice refused. But Patience nattered at Shrewd until he surrendered. It’s the Skill, boy. You’re to be trained in the Skill.”

  “The Skill,” I repeated, without sense of what I was saying. It was all going too fast for me.

  “Yes.”

  I scrabbled to find thoughts. “Burrich spoke of it to me, once. A long time ago.” Abruptly I remembered the context of that conversation. After Nosy accidentally betrayed us. He had spoken of it as the opposite of whatever was the sense I shared with animals. The same sense had revealed to me the change in the folk of Forge. Would training in one free me of the other? Or would it be a deprivation? I thought of the kinship that I had shared with horses and dogs when I knew Burrich was not around. I remembered Nosy, in a mingling of warmth and grief. I had never been so close, before or since, to another living creature. Would this new training in the Skill take that away from me?

  “What’s the matter, boy?” Chade’s voice was kindly, but concerned.

  “I don’t know.” I hesitated. But not even to Chade could I dare to reveal my fear. Or my taint. “Nothing, I guess.”

  “You’ve been listening to old tales about the training,” he guessed, totally incorrectly. “Listen, boy, it can’t be that bad. Chivalry went through it. So did Verity. And with the threat of the Red-Ships, Shrewd has decided to go back to the old ways, and extend the training to other likely candidates. He wants a coterie, or even two, to supplement what he and Verity can do with the Skill. Galen is not enthused, but I suspect it’s a very good idea. Though, being a bastard myself, I was never allowed the training. So I’ve no real idea how the Skill might be employed to defend the land.”

  “You’re a bastard?” The words burst out of me. All my tangled thoughts were suddenly sliced through by this revelation. Chade stared at me, as shocked at my words as I by his.

  “Of course. I thought you’d figured that out long ago. Boy, for someone as perceptive as you are, you’ve got some very odd blind spots.”

  I looked at Chade as if for the first time. His scars, perhaps, had hidden it from me. The resemblance was there. The brow, the way his ears were set, the line of his lower lip. “You’re Shrewd’s son,” I guessed wildly, going only by his appearance. Even before he spoke, I realized how foolish my words were.

  “Son?” Chade laughed grimly. “How he would scowl to hear you say that! But the truth makes him grimace even more. He is my younger half brother, boy, though he was conceived in a wedded bed and I on a military campaign near Sandsedge.” Softly he added, “My mother was a soldier when I was conceived. But she returned home to bear me, and later wedded a potter. When my mother died, her husband put me on a donkey, gave me a necklace she had worn, and told me to take it to the King at Buckkeep. I was ten. It was a long, hard road from Woolcot to Buckkeep, in those days.”

  I couldn’t think of anything to say.

  “Enough of this.” Chade straightened himself up sternly. “Galen will be instructing you in the Skill. Shrewd browbeat him into it. He finally acceded, but with reservations. No one is to interfere with any of his students during the training. I wish it were otherwise, but there’s nothing I can do about it. You’ll just have to be careful. You know of Galen, don’t you?”

  “A little,” I said. “Only what other people say about him.”

  “What do you know by yourself?” Chade quizzed me.

  I took a breath and considered. “He eats alone. I’ve ne
ver seen him at table, either with the men-at-arms, or in the dining hall. I’ve never seen him just standing about and talking, not in the exercise yard or the washing court or in any of the gardens. He’s always going somewhere when I see him, and he’s always in a hurry. He’s bad with animals. The dogs don’t like him, and he overcontrols the horses so much that he ruins their mouths and their temperaments. I guess he’s about Burrich’s age. He dresses well, almost as fancy as Regal. I’ve heard him called a queen’s man.”

  “Why?” Chade asked quickly.

  “Um, it was a long time ago. Gage. He’s a man-at-arms. He came to Burrich one night, a bit drunk, a bit cut up. He’d had a fight with Galen, and Galen hit him in the face with a little whip or something. Gage asked Burrich to fix him up, because it was late, and he wasn’t supposed to have been drinking that night. His watch was coming up, or something. Gage told Burrich that he’d overheard Galen say that Regal was twice as royal as Chivalry or Verity, and it was a stupid custom that kept him from the throne. Galen had said that Regal’s mother was better born than Shrewd’s first queen. Which everyone knows is true. But what angered Gage enough to start the fight was that Galen said Queen Desire was more royal than Shrewd himself, for she’d Farseer blood from both her parents, and Shrewd’s was just from his father. So Gage swung at him, but Galen sidestepped and struck him in the face with something.”

  I paused.

  “And?” Chade encouraged me.

  “And so he favors Regal, over Verity or even the King. And Regal, well, accepts him. He’s friendlier with him than he usually is with servants or soldiers. He seems to take counsel of him, the few times I’ve seen them together. It’s almost funny to watch them together; you’d think Galen was aping Regal, from the way he dresses and walks as the Prince does. Sometimes they almost look alike.”

  “They do?” Chade leaned closer, waiting. “What else have you noticed?”

  I searched my memory for more firsthand knowledge of Galen. “That’s all, I guess.”

  “Has he ever spoken to you?”

  “No.”

  “I see.” Chade nodded as if to himself. “And what do you know of him by reputation? What do you suspect?” He was trying to lead me to some conclusion, but I could not guess what.

  “He’s from Farrow. An Inlander. His family came to Buckkeep with King Shrewd’s second queen. I’ve heard it said that he’s afraid of the water, to sail or to swim. Burrich respects him, but doesn’t like him. He says he’s a man who knows his job and does it, but Burrich can’t get along with anyone who mistreats an animal, even if it’s out of ignorance. The kitchen folk don’t like him. He’s always making the younger ones cry. He accuses the girls of getting hair in his meals or having dirty hands, and he says the boys are too rowdy and don’t serve food correctly. So the cooks don’t like him either, because when the apprentices are upset, they don’t do their work well.” Chade was still looking at me expectantly, as if waiting for something very important. I racked my brains for other gossip.

  “He wears a chain with three gems set in it. Queen Desire gave it to him, for some special service he did. Um. The Fool hates him. He told me once that if no one else is around, Galen calls him freak and throws things at him.”

  Chade’s brows went up. “The Fool talks to you?”

  His tone was more than incredulous. He sat up in his chair so suddenly that his wine leaped out of his cup and splashed on his knee. He rubbed at it distractedly with his sleeve.

  “Sometimes,” I admitted cautiously. “Not very often. Only when he feels like it. He just appears and tells me things.”

  “Things? What kind of things?”

  I realized suddenly that I had never recounted to Chade the fitz-fits-fats riddle. It seemed too complicated to go into just then. “Oh, just odd things. About two months ago he stopped me and said the morrow was a poor day to hunt. But it was fine and clear. Burrich got that big buck that day. You remember. It was the same day that we came up on a wolverine. It tore up two of the dogs badly.”

  “As I recall, it nearly got you.” Chade leaned forward, an oddly pleased look on his face.

  I shrugged. “Burrich rode it down. And then he cursed me down as if it were my fault, and told me that he’d have knocked me silly if the beast had hurt Sooty. As if I could have known it would turn toward me.” I hesitated. “Chade, I know the Fool is strange. But I like it when he comes to talk to me. He speaks in riddles, and he insults me, and makes fun of me, and gives himself leave to tell me things he thinks I should do, like wash my hair, or not wear yellow. But…”

  “Yes?” Chade prodded as if what I were saying was very important.

  “I like him,” I said lamely. “He mocks me, but from him, it seems a kindness. He makes me feel, well, important. That he could choose me to talk to.”

  Chade leaned back. He put his hand up to his mouth to cover a smile, but it was a joke I didn’t understand. “Trust your instincts,” he told me succinctly. “And keep any counsel the Fool gives you. And, as you have, keep it private that he comes and speaks to you. Some could take it amiss.”

  “Who?” I demanded.

  “King Shrewd, perhaps. After all, the Fool is his. Bought and paid for.”

  A dozen questions rose to my mind. Chade saw the expression on my face, for he held up a quelling hand. “Not now. That’s as much as you need to know right now. In fact, more than you need to know. But I was surprised by your revelation. It’s not like me to tell secrets not my own. If the Fool wants you to know more, he can speak for himself. But I seem to recall we were discussing Galen.”

  I sank back in my chair with a sigh. “Galen. So he is unpleasant to those who cannot challenge it, dresses well, and eats alone. What else do I need to know, Chade? I’ve had strict teachers, and I’ve had unpleasant ones. I think I’ll learn to deal with him.”

  “You’d better.” Chade was deadly earnest. “Because he hates you. He hates you more than he loved your father. The depth of emotion he felt for your father unnerved me. No man, not even a prince, merits such blind devotion, especially not so suddenly. And you he hates, with even more intensity. It frightens me.”

  Something in Chade’s tone brought a sick chill stalking up from my stomach. I felt an uneasiness that almost made me sick. “How do you know?” I demanded.

  “Because he told Shrewd so when Shrewd directed him to include you among his pupils. ‘Does not the bastard have to learn his place? Does not he have to be content with what you have decreed for him?’ Then he refused to teach you.”

  “He refused?”

  “I told you. But Shrewd was adamant. And he is King, and Galen must obey him now, for all that he was a queen’s man. So Galen relented and said he would attempt to teach you. You will meet with him each day. Beginning a month from now. You are Patience’s until then.”

  “Where?”

  “There is a tower top, called the Queen’s Garden. You will be admitted there.” Chade paused, as if wanting to warn me, but not wishing to scare me. “Be careful,” he said at last, “for within the walls of the garden, I have no influence. I am blind there.”

  It was a strange warning, and one I took to heart.

  Chapter

  13

  Smithy

  The Lady Patience established her eccentricity at an early age. As a small child, her nursemaids found her stubbornly independent, and yet lacking the common sense to take care of herself. One remarked, “She would go all day with her laces undone because she could not tie them herself, yet would suffer no one to tie them for her.” Before the age of ten, she had decided to eschew the traditional trainings befitting a girl of her rank, and instead interested herself in handicrafts that were very unlikely to prove useful: pottery, tattooing, the making of perfumes, and the growing and propagation of plants, especially foreign ones.

  She did not scruple to absent
herself for long hours from supervision. She preferred the woodlands and orchards to her mother’s courtyards and gardens. One would have thought this would produce a hardy and practical child. Nothing could be further from the truth. She seemed to be constantly afflicted with rashes, scrapes, and stings, was frequently lost, and never developed any sensible wariness toward man or beast.

  Her education came largely from herself. She mastered reading and ciphering at an early age, and from that time studied any scroll, book, or tablet that came her way with voracious and indiscriminate interest. Tutors were frustrated by her distractible ways and frequent absences that seemed to affect not at all her ability to learn almost anything swiftly and well. Yet the applying of such knowledge interested her not at all. Her head was full of fancies and imaginings, she substituted poetry and music for logic and manners both, she expressed no interest at all in social introductions and coquettish skills.

  And yet she married a prince, one who had courted her with a single-minded enthusiasm that was to be the first scandal to befall him.

  * * *

  “Stand up straight!”

  I stiffened.

  “Not like that! You look like a turkey, drawn out and waiting for the ax. Relax more. No, but put your shoulders back, don’t hunch them. Do you always stand with your feet thrown out so?”

  “Lady, he is only a boy. They are always so, all angles and bones. Let him come in and be at ease.”

  “Oh, very well. Come in, then.”

  I nodded my gratitude to a round-faced serving woman who dimpled a smile at me in return. She gestured me toward a pew bench so bedecked with pillows and shawls that there was scarcely room left to sit. I perched on the edge of it and surveyed Lady Patience’s chamber.