Assassin’s Quest

‘He doesn’t try to chew on the leather any more?’

‘No. At least, not while I’m watching him. Besides, it’s work he knows very well. It may touch something in him.’ Heart of the Pack gave a short laugh. ‘If nothing else, mended harness is a thing that can be sold.’

The grey one went and stood by the fire and held his hands out to it. There were spots on his hands. Heart of the Pack got out his brandy bottle. They had brandy in cups. He made me hold a cup with a little brandy in the bottom of it, but he did not make me taste it. They talked long, long, long, of things that had nothing to do with eating or sleeping or hunting. The grey one had heard something about a woman. It might be crucial, a rallying point for the Duchies. Heart of the Pack said, ‘I won’t talk about it in front of Fitz. I promised.’ The grey one asked him if he thought I understood, and Heart of the Pack said that that didn’t matter, he had given his word. I wanted to go to sleep, but they made me sit still in a chair. When the old one had to leave, Heart of the Pack said, ‘It is very dangerous for you to come here. So far a walk for you. Will you be able to get back in?’

The grey one just smiled. ‘I have my ways, Burrich,’ he said. I smiled too, remembering that he had always been proud of his secrets.

One day, Heart of the Pack went out and left me alone. He did not tie me. He just said, ‘There are some oats here. If you want to eat while I’m gone, you’ll have to remember how to cook them. If you go out of the door or the window, if you even open the door or the window, I will know it. And I will beat you to death. Do you understand that?’

‘I do,’ I said. He seemed very angry at me, but I could not remember doing anything he had told me not to do. He opened a box and took things from it. Most were round metal. Coins. One thing I remembered. It was shiny and curved like a moon, and had smelled of blood when I first got it. I had fought another for it. I could not remember that I had wanted it, but I had fought and won it. I did not want it now. He held it up on its chain to look at it, then put it in a pouch. I did not care that he took it away.

I was very, very hungry before he came back. When he did there was a smell on him. A female’s smell. Not strong, and mixed with the smells of a meadow. But it was a good smell that made me want something, something that was not food or water or hunting. I came close to him to smell it, but he did not notice that. He cooked the porridge and we ate. Then he just sat before the fire, looking very, very sad. I got up and got the brandy bottle. I brought it to him with a cup. He took them from me but he did not smile. ‘Maybe tomorrow I shall teach you to fetch,’ he told me. ‘Maybe that’s something you could master.’ Then he drank all the brandy that was in the bottle, and opened another bottle after that. I sat and watched him. After he fell asleep, I took his coat that had the smell on it. I put it on the floor and lay on it, smelling it until I fell asleep.

I dreamed, but it made no sense. There had been a female who smelled like Burrich’s coat, and I had not wanted her to go. She was my female, but when she left, I did not follow. That was all I could remember. Remembering it was not good, in the same way that being hungry or thirsty was not good.

He was making me stay in. He had made me stay in for a long, long time, when all I wanted to do was go out. But that time it was raining, very hard, so hard the snow was almost all melted. Suddenly it seemed good not to go out. ‘Burrich,’ I said, and he looked up very suddenly at me. I thought he was going to attack, he moved so quickly. I tried not to cower. Cowering made him angry sometimes.

‘What is it, Fitz?’ he asked, and his voice was kind.

‘I am hungry,’ I said. ‘Now.’

He gave me a big piece of meat. It was cooked, but it was a big piece. I ate it too fast and he watched me, but he did not tell me not to, or cuff me. That time.

I kept scratching at my face. At my beard. Finally, I went and stood in front of Burrich. I scratched at it in front of him. ‘I don’t like this,’ I told him. He looked surprised. But he gave me very hot water and soap, and a very sharp knife. He gave me a round glass with a man in it. I looked at it for a long time. It made me shiver. His eyes were like Burrich’s, with white around them, but even darker. Not wolf eyes. His coat was dark like Burrich’s, but the hair on his jaws was uneven and rough. I touched my beard, and saw fingers on the man’s face. It was strange.

‘Shave, but be careful,’ Burrich told me.

I could almost remember how. The smell of the soap, the hot water on my face. But the sharp, sharp blade kept cutting me. Little cuts that stung. I looked at the man in the round glass afterward. Fitz, I thought. Almost like Fitz. I was bleeding. ‘I’m bleeding everywhere,’ I told Burrich.

He laughed at me. ‘You always bleed after you shave. You always try to hurry too much.’ He took the sharp, sharp blade. ‘Sit still,’ he told me. ‘You’ve missed some spots.’

I sat very still and he did not cut me. It was hard to be still when he came so near to me and looked at me so closely. When he was done, he took my chin in his hand. He tipped my face up and looked at me. He looked at me hard. ‘Fitz?’ he said. He turned his head and smiled at me, but then the smile faded when I just looked at him. He gave me a brush.

‘There is no horse to brush,’ I told him.

He looked almost pleased. ‘Brush this,’ he told me, and roughed up my hair. He made me brush it until it would lie flat. There were sore places on my head. Burrich frowned when he saw me wince. He took the brush away and made me stand still while he looked and touched beneath my hair. ‘Bastard!’ he said harshly, and when I cowered, he said, ‘Not you.’ He shook his head slowly. He patted me on the shoulder. ‘The pain will go away with time,’ he told me. He showed me how to pull my hair back and tie it with leather. It was just long enough. ‘That’s better,’ he said. ‘You look like a man again.’

I woke up from a dream, twitching and yelping. I sat up and started to cry. He came to me from his bed. ‘What’s wrong, Fitz? Are you all right?’

‘He took me from my mother!’ I said. ‘He took me away from her. I was much too young to be gone from her.’

‘I know,’ he said, ‘I know. But it was a long time ago. You’re here now, and safe.’ He looked almost frightened.

‘He smoked the den,’ I told him. ‘He made my mother and brothers into hides.’

His face changed and his voice was no longer kind. ‘No, Fitz. That was not your mother. That was a wolf’s dream. Nighteyes. It might have happened to Nighteyes. But not you.’

‘Oh, yes, it did,’ I told him, and I was suddenly angry. ‘Oh, yes it did, and it felt just the same. Just the same.’ I got up from my bed and walked around the room. I walked for a very long time, until I could stop feeling that feeling again. He sat and watched me. He drank a lot of brandy while I walked.

One day in spring I stood looking out of the window. The world smelled good, alive and new. I stretched and rolled my shoulders. I heard my bones crackle together. ‘It would be a good morning to go out riding,’ I said. I turned to look at Burrich. He was stirring porridge in a kettle over the fire. He came and stood beside me.

‘It’s still winter up in the Mountains,’ he said softly. ‘I wonder if Kettricken got home safely.’

‘If she didn’t, it wasn’t Sooty’s fault,’ I said. Then something turned over and hurt inside me, so that for a moment I couldn’t catch my breath. I tried to think of what it was, but it ran away from me. I didn’t want to catch up with it, but I knew it was a thing I should hunt. It would be like hunting a bear. When I got up close to it, it would turn on me and try to hurt me. But something about it made me want to follow anyway. I took a deep breath and shuddered it out. I drew in another, with a sound that caught in my throat.

Beside me, Burrich was very still and silent. Waiting for me.

Brother, you are a wolf. Come back, come away from that, it will hurt you, Nighteyes warned me.

I leaped back from it.

Then Burrich went stamping about the room, cursing things, and letting the porridge burn. We had to eat it anyway, there was nothing else.

For a time, Burrich bothered me. ‘Do you remember?’ he was always saying. He wouldn’t leave me alone. He would tell me names, and make me try to say who they were. Sometimes I would know, a little. ‘A woman,’ I told him when he said Patience. ‘A woman in a room with plants.’ I had tried, but he still got angry with me.

If I slept at night, I had dreams. Dreams of a trembling light, a dancing light on a stone wall. And eyes at a small window. The dreams would hold me down and keep me from breathing. If I could get enough breath to scream, I could wake up. Sometimes it took a long time to get enough breath. Burrich would wake up, too, and grab the big knife off the table. ‘What is it, what is it?’ he would ask me. But I could not tell him.

It was safer to sleep in the daylight, outside, smelling grass and earth. The dreams of stone walls did not come then. Instead, a woman came, to press herself sweetly against me. Her scent was the same as the meadow flowers, and her mouth tasted of honey. The pain of those dreams came when I awoke, and knew she was gone forever, taken by another. At night I sat and looked at the fire. I tried not to think of cold stone walls, nor of dark eyes weeping and a sweet mouth gone heavy with bitter words. I did not sleep. I dared not even lie down. Burrich did not make me.

Chade came back one day. He had grown his beard long and he wore a wide-brimmed hat like a pedlar, but I knew him all the same. Burrich wasn’t at home when he arrived, but I let him in. I did not know why he had come. ‘Do you want some brandy?’ I asked, thinking perhaps that was why he had come. He looked closely at me and almost smiled.

‘Fitz?’ he said. He turned his head sideways to look into my face. ‘So. How have you been?’

I didn’t know the answer to that question, so I just looked at him. After a time, he put the kettle on. He took things out of his pack. He had brought spice tea, some cheese and smoked fish. He took out packets of herbs as well and set them out in a row on the table. Then he took out a leather pouch. Inside it was a fat yellow crystal, large enough to fill his hand. In the bottom of the pack was a large shallow bowl, glazed blue inside. He had set it on the table and filled it with clean water when Burrich returned. Burrich had gone fishing. He had a string with six small fish on it. They were creek fish, not ocean fish. They were slippery and shiny. He had already taken all the guts out.

‘You leave him alone now?’ Chade asked Burrich after they had greeted one another.

‘I have to, to get food.’

‘So you trust him now?’

Burrich looked aside from Chade. ‘I’ve trained a lot of animals. Teaching one to do what you tell it is not the same as trusting a man.’

Burrich cooked the fish in a pan and then we ate. We had the cheese and the tea also. Then, while I was cleaning the pans and dishes, they sat down to talk.

‘I want to try the herbs,’ Chade said to Burrich. ‘Or the water, or the crystal. Something. Anything. I begin to think that he’s not really … in there.’

‘He is,’ Burrich asserted quietly. ‘Give him time. I don’t think the herbs are a good idea for him. Before he … changed, he was getting too fond of herbs. Toward the end, he was always either ill, or charged full of energy. If he was not in the depths of sorrow, he was exhausted from fighting or from being King’s Man to Verity or Shrewd. Then he’d be into the elfbark instead of resting. He’d forgotten how to just rest and let his body recover. He’d never wait for it. That last night … you gave him carris seed, didn’t you? Foxglove said she’d never seen anything like it. I think more folk might have come to his aid, if they hadn’t been so frightened of him. Poor old Blade thought he had gone stark raving mad. He never forgave himself for taking him down. I wish he could know the boy hadn’t actually died.’

‘There was no time to pick and choose. I gave him what I had to hand. I didn’t know he’d go mad on carris seed.’

‘You could have refused him,’ Burrich said quietly.

‘It wouldn’t have stopped him. He’d have gone as he was, exhausted, and been killed right there.’

I went and sat down on the hearth. Burrich was not watching me. I lay down, then rolled over on my back and stretched. It felt good. I closed my eyes and felt the warmth of the fire on my flank.

‘Get up and sit on the stool, Fitz,’ Burrich said.

I sighed, but I obeyed. Chade did not look at me. Burrich resumed talking.

‘I’d like to keep him on an even keel. I think he just needs time, to do it on his own. He remembers. Sometimes. And then he fights it off. I don’t think he wants to remember, Chade. I don’t think he really wants to go back to being FitzChivalry. Maybe he liked being a wolf. Maybe he liked it so much he’s never coming back.’

‘He has to come back,’ Chade said quietly. ‘We need him.’

Burrich sat up. He’d had his feet up on the wood pile, but now he set them on the floor. He leaned toward Chade. ‘You’ve had word?’

‘Not I. But Patience has, I think. It’s very frustrating, sometimes, to be the rat behind the wall.’

‘So what did you hear?’

‘Only Patience and Lacey, talking about wool.’

‘Why is that important?’

‘They wanted wool to weave a very soft cloth. For a baby, or a small child. “It will be born at the end of our harvest, but that’s the beginning of winter in the Mountains. So let us make it thick,” Patience said. Perhaps for Kettricken’s child.’

Burrich looked startled. ‘Patience knows about Kettricken?’

Chade laughed. ‘I don’t know. Who knows what that woman knows? She has changed much of late. She gathers the Buckkeep guard into the palm of her hand, and Lord Bright does not even see it happening. I think now that we should have let her know our plan, included her from the beginning. But perhaps not.’

‘It might have been easier for me if we had.’ Burrich stared deep into the fire.

Chade shook his head. ‘I am sorry. She had to believe you had abandoned Fitz, rejected him for his use of the Wit. If you had gone after his body, Regal might have been suspicious. We had to make Regal believe she was the only one who cared enough to bury him.’

‘She hates me now. She told me I had no loyalty, nor courage.’ Burrich looked at his hands and his voice tightened. ‘I knew she had stopped loving me years ago. When she gave her heart to Chivalry. I could accept that. He was a man worthy of her. And I had walked away from her first. So I could live with her not loving me, because I felt she still respected me as a man. But now, she despises me. I …’ He shook his head, then closed his eyes tightly. For a moment all was still. Then Burrich straightened himself slowly and turned to Chade. His voice was calm as he asked, ‘So, you think Patience knows that Kettricken fled to the Mountains?’

‘It wouldn’t surprise me. There has been no official word, of course. Regal has sent messages to King Eyod, demanding to know if Kettricken fled there, but Eyod replied only that she was the Six Duchies Queen and what she did was not a Mountain concern. Regal was angered enough by that to cut off trade to the Mountains. But Patience seems to know much of what goes on outside the keep. Perhaps she knows what is happening in the Mountain Kingdom. For my part, I should dearly love to know how she intends to send the blanket to the Mountains. It’s a long and weary way.’

For a long time, Burrich was silent. Then he said, ‘I should have found a way to go with Kettricken and the Fool. But there were only the two horses, and only supplies enough for two. I hadn’t been able to get more than that. And so they went alone.’ He glared into the fire, then asked, ‘I don’t suppose anyone has heard anything of King-in-Waiting Verity?’

Chade shook his head slowly. ‘King Verity,’ he reminded Burrich softly. ‘If he were here.’ He looked far away. ‘If he were coming back, I think he’d be here by now,’ he said quietly. ‘A few more soft days like this, and there will be Red Ship Raiders in every bay. I no longer believe Verity is coming back.’

‘Then Regal truly is King,’ Burrich said sourly. ‘At least until Kettricken’s child is born and comes of age. And then we can look forward to a civil war if the child tries to claim the crown. If there is still a Six Duchies left to be ruled. Verity. I wish now that he had not gone questing for the Elderlings. At least while he was alive, we had some protection from the Raiders. Now, with Verity gone and spring getting stronger, nothing stands between us and the Red Ships …’

Verity. I shivered with the cold. I pushed the cold away. It came back and I pushed it all away. I held it away. After a moment, I took a deep breath.

‘Just the water, then?’ Chade asked Burrich, and I knew they had been talking but I had not been hearing.

Burrich shrugged. ‘Go ahead. What can it hurt? Did he use to scry things in water?’

‘I never tried him. I always suspected he could if he tried. He has the Wit and the Skill. Why shouldn’t he be able to scry as well?’

‘Just because a man can do a thing does not mean he should do a thing.’

For a time, they looked at one another. Then Chade shrugged. ‘Perhaps my trade does not allow me so many niceties of conscience as yours,’ he suggested in a stiff voice.

After a moment, Burrich said gruffly, ‘Your pardon, sir. We all served our king as our abilities dictated.’

Chade nodded to that. Then he smiled.

Chade cleared the table of everything but the dish of water and some candles. ‘Come here,’ he said to me softly, so I went back to the table. He sat me in his chair and put the dish in front of me. ‘Look in the water,’ he told me. ‘Tell me what you see.’

I saw the water in the bowl. I saw the blue in the bottom of the bowl. Neither answer made him happy. He kept telling me to look again but I kept seeing the same things. He moved the candle several times, each time telling me to look again. Finally he said to Burrich, ‘Well, at least he answers when you speak to him now.’

Burrich nodded, but he looked discouraged. ‘Yes. Perhaps with time,’ he said.

I knew they were finished with me then, and I relaxed.

Chade asked if he could stay the night with us. Burrich said of course. Then he went and fetched the brandy. He poured two cups. Chade drew my stool to the table and sat again. I sat and waited, but they began talking to one another again.

‘What about me?’ I asked at last.

They stopped talking and looked at me. ‘What about you?’ Burrich asked.

‘Don’t I get any brandy?’

They looked at me. Burrich asked carefully, ‘Do you want some? I didn’t think you liked it.’

‘No, I don’t like it. I never liked it.’ I thought for a moment. ‘But it was cheap.’

Burrich stared at me. Chade smiled a small smile, looking down at his hands. Then Burrich got another cup and poured some for me. For a time they sat watching me, but I didn’t do anything. Eventually they began talking again. I took a sip of the brandy. It still stung my mouth and nose, but it made a warmth inside me. I knew I didn’t want any more. Then I thought I did. I drank some more. It was just as unpleasant. Like something Patience would force on me for a cough. No. I pushed that memory aside as well. I set the cup down.

Burrich did not look at me. He went on talking to Chade. ‘When you hunt a deer, you can often get much closer to it simply by pretending not to see it. They will hold position and watch you approach and not stir a hoof as long as you do not look directly at them.’ He picked up the bottle and poured more brandy in my cup. I snorted at the rising scent of it. I thought I felt something stirring. A thought in my mind. I reached for my wolf.

Nighteyes?

My brother? I sleep, Changer. It is not yet a good time to hunt.

Burrich glared at me. I stopped.

I knew I did not want more brandy. But someone else thought that I did. Someone else urged me to pick up the cup, just to hold it. I swirled it in the cup. Verity used to swirl his wine in the cup and look into it. I looked into the dark cup.

Fitz.

I set the cup down. I got up and walked around the room. I wanted to go out, but Burrich never let me go out alone, and not at all at night. So I walked around the room until I came back to my chair. I sat down in it again. The cup of brandy was still there. After a time I picked it up, just to make the feeling of wanting to pick it up go away. But once I held it in my hand, he changed it. He made me think about drinking it. How warm it felt in my belly. Just drink it quick, and the taste wouldn’t last long, just the warm, good feeling in my belly.

I knew what he was doing. I was beginning to get angry.

Just another small sip then. Soothingly. Whispery. Just to help you relax, Fitz. The fire is so warm, you’ve had food. Burrich will protect you. Chade is right there. You needn’t be on guard so much. Just another sip. One more sip.

No.

A tiny sip, then, just getting your mouth wet.

I took another sip to make him stop making me want to. But he didn’t stop, so I took another. I took a mouthful and swallowed it. It was getting harder and harder to resist. He was wearing me down. And Burrich kept putting more in my cup.

Fitz. Say, ‘Verity’s alive’. That’s all. Say just that.

No.

Doesn’t the brandy feel nice in your belly? So warm. Take a little more.

‘I know what you’re trying to do. You’re trying to get me drunk. So I can’t keep you out. I won’t let you.’ My face was wet.

Burrich and Chade were both looking at me. ‘He was never a crying drunk before,’ Burrich observed. ‘At least, not around me.’ They seemed to find that interesting.

Say it. Say, ‘Verity’s alive’. Then I’ll let you go. I promise. Just say it. Just once. Even as a whisper. Say it. Say it.

I looked down at the table. Very softly, I said, ‘Verity’s alive.’

‘Oh?’ said Burrich. He was too casual. He leaned too quickly to tip more brandy into my cup. The bottle was empty. He gave to me from his own cup.

Suddenly I wanted it. I wanted it for myself. I picked it up and drank it all off. Then I stood up. ‘Verity’s alive,’ I said. ‘He’s cold, but he’s alive. And that’s all I have to say.’ I went to the door and worked the latch and went out into the night. They didn’t try to stop me.

Burrich was right. All of it was there, like a song one has heard too often and cannot get out of one’s mind. It ran behind all my thoughts and coloured all my dreams. It came pushing back at me and gave me no peace. Spring ventured into summer. Old memories began to overlay my new ones. My lives began stitching themselves together. There were gaps and puckers in the joining, but it was getting harder and harder to refuse to know things. Names took on meanings and faces again. Patience, Lacey, Celerity, and Sooty were no longer simple words but rang as rich as chiming bells with memories and emotions. ‘Molly,’ I finally said out loud to myself one day. Burrich looked up at me suddenly when I spoke that word, and nearly lost his grip on the fine plaited gut snare line he was making. I heard him catch his breath as if he would speak to me, but instead he kept silent, waiting for me to say more. I did not. Instead I closed my eyes and lowered my face into my hands and longed for oblivion.

I spent a lot of time standing at the window looking out over the meadow. There was nothing to see there. But Burrich did not stop me or make me go back to my chores as he once would have. One day, as I looked over the rich grass, I asked Burrich, ‘What are we going to do when the shepherds get here? Where will we go to live then?’

‘Think about it.’ He had pegged a rabbit hide to the floor and was scraping it clean of flesh and fat. ‘They won’t be coming. There are no flocks to bring up to summer pasture. Most of the good stock went inland with Regal. He plundered Buckkeep of everything he could cart or drive off. I’m willing to bet that any sheep he left in Buckkeep turned into mutton over the winter.’