“Burrich,” I protested, “there are too many uncertainties. I do not even know that the King will be awake tonight, or able to Skill, or that he will if I ask it. If we do this, Regal, and all else, will know that I am a King’s Man in the Skill sense. And…”
“Sorry, boy.” Burrich spoke abruptly, almost callously. “There is more at stake here than your well-being. Not that I do not care about you. But I think you will be safer if Regal thinks you can Skill, and all know Verity is alive, than if all believe Verity is dead and Regal thinks it timely to be rid of you. We must try tonight. Perhaps we shall not succeed. But we must try.”
“I hope you can get some elfbark somewhere,” I grumbled to him.
“Are you developing a fondness for that? Be wary.” But then he grinned. “I am sure I can get some.”
I returned the grin, and then was shocked at myself. I didn’t believe Verity was dead. That was what I admitted to myself with that grin. I did not believe my king-in-waiting was dead, and I was about to stand toe to toe with Prince Regal and prove it was so. The only way that could have been more satisfying would be if I could do it with an ax in my hands. Yet.
“Do me one favor?” I asked of Burrich.
“What?” he asked guardedly.
“Be very very careful of yourself.”
“Always. See that you do the same.”
I nodded, then stood silent, feeling awkward:
After a moment Burrich sighed and said, “Out with it. If I happen to see Molly, you’d like me to tell her … what?”
I shook my head at myself. “Only that I miss her. What else can I say to her? I’ve nothing to offer her but that.”