I had been a fool.
I do not think he has followed you before. But I cannot be sure either.
Nighteyes, my brother. How do I thank you?
Stay alive. A pause. And bring me ginger cake.
You shall have it, I promised fervently.
Burrich’s fire had burned low and I still had not slept when I felt Chade’s draft sweep through my room. It was almost a relief to rise and go to him.
I found him awaiting me impatiently, pacing about his small room. He pounced on me as I came out of the stairwell.
“An assassin is a tool,” he informed me in a hiss. “Somehow, I never got that across to you. We are tools. We do not do anything of our own volition.”
I stopped still, shocked at the anger in his voice. “I haven’t killed anyone!” I said indignantly.
“Shush! Speak softly. I would not be too sure of that, were I you,” he replied. “How many times have I done my job, not by putting the knife in myself, but simply by giving someone else sufficient reason and opportunity to do it for me?”
I said nothing.
He looked at me and sighed, the anger and strength going out of him. Softly he said, “Sometimes, the best you can do is just salvage work. Sometimes we have to resign ourselves to that. We are not the ones to set the wheels in motion, boy. What you did tonight was ill-considered.”
“So the Fool and Burrich have both told me. I don’t think Kettricken would agree.”
“Kettricken and her child could both have lived with her grief. As could King Shrewd. Look at what they were. A foreign woman, widow of a dead King-in-Waiting, mother of a child that isn’t visible yet, and who will be unable to wield power for years to come. Regal judged Shrewd to be but a doddering helpless old man, useful as a puppet perhaps, but harmless enough. Regal had no immediate reason to put them aside. Oh, I agree Kettricken’s position was not as secure as it could be, but she was not in direct opposition to Regal. That is where she is now.”