Farseer 1 – Assassin’s Apprentice

“I don’t know how. I don’t know how to Skill, and I certainly don’t know how to tap someone else’s strength to do it. And even if I did, if I succeeded, I might kill you.”

“If you succeed, our king may live. That is what I am sworn to. And you?” He made it all seem so simple.

So I tried. I opened my mind, I reached for Verity. I tried, with no idea how, to draw strength from Burrich. But all I heard was the twittering of birds outside the palace walls, and Burrich’s shoulder was only a place to rest my hand. I opened my eyes. I didn’t have to tell him I’d failed; he knew. He sighed heavily.

“Well. I suppose I take you to Regal,” he said.

“If we did not go, we would be forever curious as to what he wanted,” I added.

Burrich did not smile. “You have a fey mood on you,” he said. “You sound more like the Fool than yourself.”

“Does the Fool talk to you?” I asked curiously.

“Sometimes,” he said, and took my arm to help me up.

“It seems like the closer I walk to death,” I told him, “the funnier everything seems.”

“To you, perhaps,” he said crossly. “I wonder what he wants.”

“To bargain. There can be nothing else. And if he wants to bargain, we may be able to gain something.”

“You speak as if Regal follows the same rules of common sense as the rest of us. I’ve never known him to do that. And I’ve always hated court intrigue,” Burrich complained. “I’d rather clean stalls.” He pulled me again to my feet.

If I had ever wondered how deadroot felt to its victim, I knew it now. I did not think I would die of it. But I did not know how much of a life it would leave me either. My legs trembled under me, and my grip was uncertain. I could feel random muscle twitches throughout my body. Neither my breath nor the beating of my heart was predictable. I longed to be still, where I could listen to my own body and decide what had been done to it. But Burrich guided my steps patiently, and Nosy drooped along behind us.

I had not been to the steams before, but Burrich had. A separate tulip bud enclosed a bubbling hot spring, tamed to use as a bath. A Chyurda stood outside it; I recognized him as the torchbearer from the night before. If he thought anything odd about my reappearance, he did not show it. He stepped aside as if expecting us, and Burrich dragged me up the steps to enter.

Clouds of steam fogged the air, carrying a mineral scent with them. We passed a stone bench or two; Burrich walked carefully on the smooth tile floor as we approached the source of the steam. The water rose in a central spring, with bricked sides built up around it to contain it. From there it was channeled in troughs to other, smaller baths, varying the heat by the length of the trough and the depth of the pond. The steam and the noise of the falling water filled the air. I did not find it pleasant; I labored just to breathe already. My eyes adjusted to the dimness, and I saw Regal soaking in one of the larger baths. He looked up at our approach.

“Ah,” he said, as if well pleased. “August told me Burrich would bring you. Well. I suppose you know the Princess has forgiven your murder of her brother? And in this place, at least, by doing so she preserves you from justice. I think it a waste of time, but local customs must be honored. She says she considers you part of her kin group now, and so I must treat you as kin. She fails to understand you were not born of a lawful union, and hence have no kin rights at all. Ah, well. Will you dismiss Burrich and join me in the springs? It might ease you. You look very uncomfortable, held up like a shirt on the washline.” He spoke so genially, so affably, as if unaware of my hatred.

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