Then, abruptly, he changed the topic. In Ripplekeep, on Sealbay, there was an old scroll that Verity wished copied, a listing of all those from Beams who had served the King in the Skill, as coterie members. It was also said that at Ripplekeep there was a relic from the days of the Elderling defense of that city. Shrewd wished me to leave on the morrow, to go to Sealbay and copy the scrolls and to view the relic and bring him a report of it. I would also convey to Brawndy the King’s best wishes and his certainty that the Duke’s unease would soon be put to rest.
I understood.
As I stood to leave, Shrewd raised a finger to bid me pause. I stood, waiting.
“And do you feel I am keeping my bargain with you?” he asked. It was the old question, the one he had always asked me after our meetings when I was a boy. It made me smile.
“Sir, I do,” I said as I always had.
“Then see that you keep your end of it as well.” He paused, then added, as he never had before; “Remember, FitzChivalry. Any injury done to one of my own is an injury to me.”
“Sir?”
“You would not injure one of mine, would you?”
I drew myself up. I knew what he asked for, and I ceded it to him. “Sir, I will not injure one of yours. I am sworn to the Farseer line.”
He nodded slowly. He had wrung an apology from Regal, and from me my word that I would not kill his son. He probably believed he had made peace between us. Outside his door, I paused to push the hair back from my eyes. I had just made a promise, I reminded myself. I considered it carefully and forced myself to look at what it could cost me to keep it. Bitterness flooded me, until I compared what it would cost me should I break it. Then I found the reservations in myself, crushed them firmly. I formed a resolve, to cleanly keep my promise to my king. I had no true peace with Regal, but at least I could have that much peace with myself. The decision left me feeling better, and I strode purposefully down the hall.