Farseer 1 – Assassin’s Apprentice

“What do you wish to tell me, Regal?” I kept my voice flat.

“Will not you send Burrich away?” he asked again.

“I am not a fool.”

“One could argue that, but very well. I suppose I must send him away, then.”

The steam and the noise of the waters had cloaked the Chyurda well. He was taller than Burrich, and his cudgel was already in motion as Burrich turned. If he hadn’t been supporting my weight, he could have avoided it. Burrich turned his head, but the cudgel hit his skull with a terrible, sharp sound, like an ax biting wood. Burrich fell, and I with him. I landed half in one of the smaller ponds. It was not scalding, but nearly so. I managed to roll out of it, but could not regain my feet. My legs would not obey me. Burrich beside me lay very still. I reached a hand toward him, but could not touch him.

Regal stood up and motioned to the Chyurda. “Dead?”

The Chyurda stirred Burrich with a foot, gave a curt nod.

“Good.” Regal .was briefly pleased. “Drag him back behind that deep tank in the corner. Then you may go.” To me, he said, “It’s unlikely anyone will be coming in here until after the ceremony. They’re too busy jostling for positions. And back in that corner … well, I doubt if he’ll be found before you are.”

I could make no response. The Chyurda stooped and seized Burrich by the ankles. As he dragged him away the dark brush of his hair feathered a trail of blood on the tiles. A dizzying mixture of hatred and despair roiled with the poison through my blood. A cold purpose rose and set in me. I could not hope to live now, but it did not seem important. Warning Verity did. And avenging Burrich. I had no plans, no weapons, no possibilities. So play for time, Chade’s counsel advised me. The more time you create for yourself, the better the chance that something will present itself. Delay him. Perhaps someone will come to see why the Prince is not dressing for the wedding. Perhaps someone else will want to use the steams before the ceremony. Engage him somehow.

“The Princess-” I began.

“Is not a problem,” Regal finished for me. “The Princess did not forgive Burrich. Only you. What I have done to him is well within my rights. He is a traitor. He must pay. And the man disposing of him was most fond of his prince, Rurisk. He has no objections to any of this.”

The Chyurda left the steams without a glance back. My hands scrabbled weakly on the smooth tile floor but found no purchase. Regal busily dried himself all the while. When the man was gone, he came to stand over me. “Aren’t you going to call for help?” he asked brightly.

I took a breath, pushed down my fear. I mustered as much contempt for Regal as I could find. “To whom? Who would hear me over the water?”

“So you save your strength. Wise. Pointless, but wise.”

“Do you think Kettricken will not know what happened?”

“She will know you went to the steams, unwisely in your condition. You slipped beneath the hot, hot water. Such a shame.”

“Regal, this is madness. How many bodies do you think you can leave in your wake? How will you explain Burrich’s death?”

“To your first question, quite a few, as long as they are not people of consequence.” He stooped over me, and gripped my shirt. He dragged me while I thrashed weakly, a fish out of water. “And to your second, well, the same. How much fuss do you think anyone will raise over a dead stableman? You are so obsessed with your plebeian self-importance that you extend it to your servants.” He dumped me carelessly half atop Burrich. His still-warm body sprawled facedown on the floor. Blood was congealing on the tiles around his face, and still dripping from his nose. A slow bubble of blood formed on his lips, broke with his faint exhalation. He lived still. I shifted to conceal it from Regal. If I could survive, Burrich might have a chance also.

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