“Burrich will have fits if you break that colt’s knees,” I cried out in dismay, and ran toward him.
Regal gave an inarticulate cry, and a half instant later Verity shakily laughed at him. “You thought he was a ghost, same as I. Whoa, lad, you gave us a turn, standing so quiet as that. And looking so much like him. Ey, Regal?”
“Verity, you’re a fool. Hold your tongue.” Regal gave his mount’s mouth a vindictive jerk and then tugged his jerkin smooth again. “What are you doing out on this road so late, bastard? Just what do you think you’re up to, sneaking away from the keep and into town at this hour?”
I was used to Regal’s disdain for me. This sharp rebuke was something new, however. Usually, he did little more than avoid me, or hold himself away from me as if I were fresh manure. The surprise made me answer quickly, “I’m on my way back, not to, sir. I’ve been running errands for Fedwren.” And I held up my basket as proof.
“Of course you have.” He sneered. “Such a likely tale. It’s a bit too much of a coincidence, bastard.” Again he flung the word at me.
I must have looked both hurt and confused, for Verity snorted in his bluff way and said, “Don’t mind him, boy. You gave us both a bit of a turn. A river ship just came into town, flying the pennant for a special message. And when Regal and I rode down to get it, to and behold, it’s from Patience, to tell us Chivalry’s dead. Then, as we come up the road, what do we see but the very image of him as a boy, standing silent before us, and of course we were in that frame of mind and-”
“You are such an idiot, Verity,” Regal spat. “Trumpet it out for the whole town to hear, before the King’s even been told. And don’t put ideas in the bastard’s head that he looks like Chivalry. From what I hear, he has ideas enough, and we can thank our dear father for that. Come on. We’ve got a message to deliver.”
Regal jerked his mount’s head up again and then set spurs to him. I watched him go, and for an instant I swear all I thought was that I should go by the stable when I got back to the keep, to check on the poor beast and see how badly his mouth was bruised. But for some reason I looked up at Verity and said, “My father’s dead.”
He sat still on his horse. Bigger and bulkier than Regal, he still always sat a horse better. I think it was the soldier in him. He looked at me in silence for a moment. Then he said, “Yes. My brother’s dead.” He granted me that, my uncle, that instant of kinship, and I think that ever after it changed how I saw the man. “Up behind me, boy, and I’ll take you back to the keep,” he offered.
“No, thank you. Burrich would take my hide off for riding a horse double on this road.”
“That he would, boy,” Verity agreed kindly. Then: “I’m sorry you found out this way. I wasn’t thinking. It does not seem it can be real.” I caught a glimpse of his true grief, and then he leaned forward and spoke to his horse and it sprang forward. In moments I was alone on the road again.
A fine misting rain began and the last natural light died, and still I stood there. I looked up at the keep, black against the stars, with here and there a bit of light spilling out. For a moment I thought of setting my basket down and running away, running off into the darkness and never coming back. Would anyone ever come looking for me? I wondered. But instead I shifted my basket to my other arm and began my slow trudge back up the hill.
CHAPTER SEVEN
An Assignment
THERE WERE RUMORS OF poison when Queen Desire died. I choose to put in writing here what I absolutely know as truth. Queen Desire did die of poisoning, but it had been self-administered, over a long period of time, and was none of her king’s doing. Often he had tried to dissuade her from using intoxicants as freely as she did. Physicians had been consulted, as well as herbalists, but no sooner had he persuaded her to desist from one than she discovered another to try.