I had died in my cell, a day or two after that final beating. The Dukes had been wroth about my death, but Regal had had enough evidence and witnesses to my Wit magic to save face with them. I believe that his guards saved themselves from the lash by testifying that I had attacked Will with the Wit, and that was why he lay ill so long. They said they had had to beat me to break my Wit hold on him. In the face of so many witnesses, the Dukes not only abandoned me, but witnessed Regal’s coronation, and the appointment of Lord Bright as castellan for Buckkeep and all of Buck’s coast. Patience had begged that my body not be burned, but be buried whole. The Lady Grace had also sent word on my behalf, much to her husband’s disgust. Only those two stood by me, in the face of Regal ‘s proof of my Wit taint. But I do not think it was out of any consideration for them that he gave me up, but only that by dying ahead of time, I had spoiled the spectacle that hanging and burning would have afforded. Cheated of his full vengeance, Regal simply lost interest. He left Buckkeep to go inland to Tradeford. Patience claimed my body to bury me.
To this life did Burrich awaken me, to a life in which there was nothing left for me. Nothing save my king. The Six Duchies would crumble in the months to come, the Raiders would possess our good harbors almost at will, our folk were driven from their homes, or brought to slavery while the Outislanders squatted there. Forgings flourished. But as my prince Verity had done, I turned my back on all of it, and went inland. But he went to be a King, and I went, following my queen, seeking my king. Hard days followed.