Royal Assassin - Страница 133

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“And so I killed them,” I continued, looking only at Brawndy. “With the King’s knife. Why else would I have chosen such a weapon?”

“Crazy men do strange things.” This from Duke Kelvar of Rippon, while Regal strangled, livid with fury. I met Kelvar’s eyes calmly. Last I had spoken with him had been at his own table, at Neatbay.

“I am not crazy,” I asserted quietly. “I was no more crazy that night than I was the night I wielded an ax outside the walls of Bayguard.”

“That may be so,” Kelvar affirmed thoughtfully. “It is common talk that he goes berserk when he fights.”

A glint came into Regal’s eyes. “It is common talk, too, that he has been seen with blood on his mouth after he has fought. That he becomes one of the animals that he was raised with. He is Witted.”

Silence greeted this remark. The Dukes exchanged glances, and when Shemshy glanced back at me, there was distaste in the look. Brawndy finally answered Regal. “This is a grave charge you level. Have you a witness?”

“To blood on his mouth? Several.”

Brawndy shook his head. “Any man may finish a battle with a bloody face. An ax is not a tidy weapon. I can attest to that. No. It would take more than that.”

“Then let us convene the council,” Regal repeated impatiently. “Hear what Wallace has to say about how my father died and at whose hand.”

The three Dukes exchanged glances. Their eyes came back to me, considering. Duke Brawndy led the coast now. I was certain of it when he was the one who spoke. “King-in-Waiting Regal. Let us speak plainly. You have accused FitzChivalry, son of Chivalry, of using the Wit, the Beast magic, to slay King Shrewd. This is indeed a grave charge. To satisfy us of it, we ask that you prove to us that not only is he Witted, but that he can use it to do injury to another. All of us were witness that there were no marks on King Shrewd’s body, no sign of a death struggle at all. Had not you raised this cry of treachery, we might have accepted that he had died of his years. Some, even, have whispered that you but seek an excuse to be rid of FitzChivalry. I know you have heard these rumors; I speak them aloud that we may confront them.” Brawndy paused, as if debating with himself. He glanced once more at his peers. When neither Kelvar nor Shemshy gave sign of dissension, he cleared his throat and continued.

“We have a proposal, King-in-Waiting Regal. Prove to us, sir, that FitzChivalry is Witted, and that he used that Wit to kill King Shrewd, and we will let you put him to death as you see fit. We will witness your coronation as King of the Six Duchies. Further, we will accept Lord Bright as your presence in Buckkeep and allow you to retire your court to Tradeford.”

Triumph gleamed briefly on Regal’s face. Then suspicion masked it. “And if, Duke Brawndy, I do not prove this to your satisfaction?”

“Then FitzChivalry lives,” Brawndy calmly decreed. “And you give him stewardship of Buckkeep and the forces of Buck in your absence.” All three Coastal Dukes lifted their eyes to meet Regal’s.

“This is treason and treachery!” Regal hissed.

Shemshy’s hand almost went to his sword. Kelvar reddened but said nothing. The tension in the line of men behind them tightened a notch. Only Brawndy remained unmoved. “My lord, do you bring more charges?” he asked calmly. “Again, we will demand them proved. It could further delay your coronation.”

After a moment of their stony eyes and silence, Regal said quietly, “I spoke in haste, my dukes. These are trying times for me. Bereft of my father’s guidance so suddenly, bereaved of my brother, our Lady Queen and the child she carries gone missing . . . These surely are enough cause to drive any man to hasty statements. I . . . very well. I will acquiesce to this . . . bargain you set before me. I will prove FitzChivalry Witted, or I will set him free. Does that satisfy you?”

“No, my King-in-Waiting,” Brawndy said quietly. “Such were not the terms we set. If innocent, FitzChivalry will be set in command of Buckkeep. If you prove him guilty, we shall accept Bright. Those were our terms.”

“And the deaths of Justin and Serene, valuable servants and coterie members? Those deaths at least we know we may put at his door. He has admitted as much.” The look Regal turned on me should have killed me right there. How deeply he must have regretted charging me with murdering Shrewd. But for Wallace’s wild accusations and Regal’s backing of them, he could have demanded me drowned for Justin’s death. That, as everyone had witnessed, was my doing. Ironically, his own desire to vilify me was what was staving off my execution.

“You will have every chance to prove him Witted and the killer of your father. For those crimes, only, will we let you hang him. As to the others . . . he claims they were the killers of the King. If he is not the guilty one, we are willing to accept that those he killed died justly.”

“This is intolerable!” Regal spat.

“My lord, those are our terms,” Brawndy returned calmly.

“And if I refuse them?” Regal flared angrily.

Brawndy shrugged. “The skies are clear, my lord. Raider weather, for those of us with coasts. We must disperse to our own Keeps, to guard our coasts as well we may. Without the convening of the full council, you cannot crown yourself King, nor lawfully appoint a man to hold Buck in your stead. You must winter at Buckkeep, my lord, and confront the sea pirates even as we do.”.

“You ring me ’round with traditions and petty laws, all to force me to your will. Am I your King or am I not?” Regal demanded bluntly.

“You are not our King.” Brawndy pointed it out quietly but firmly. “You are our King-in-Waiting. And likely to continue waiting until these charges and this issue is resolved.”

The blackness of Regal’s glare plainly showed how little this was to his liking. “Very well,” he said flatly, all too quickly. “I suppose I must submit to this . . . bargaining. Remember that you have decreed it must be this way, not I.” He turned and looked at me. I knew then that he would not keep his word; I knew I would die in this cell. That sick and sudden knowledge of my own death blackened the edges of my vision, set me swaying on my feet. I felt I had taken two steps back from life. A coldness crept up inside me.

“Then we are agreed,” Brawndy said smoothly. He turned his eyes back to me, and frowned. Something of what I was feeling must have showed on my face, for he asked quickly, “FitzChivalry. Are you fairly treated here? Do they feed you?” As he asked this he unfastened the brooch at his shoulder. His cloak was much worn, but of wool, and when he threw it to me, the weight of it knocked me back against the wall.

I clutched the cloak, warm still with his body heat, gratefully. “Water. Bread,” I said briefly. I looked down at the heavy wool garment. “Thank you,” I said more quietly.

“It’s better than many have!” Regal retorted angrily. “Times are hard,” he added lamely. As if those he spoke to did not know that better than he did.

Brawndy regarded me for a few moments. I said nothing. Finally he swung a cold look to Regal. “Too hard to at least give him some straw to sleep on, instead of a slab of stone?”

Regal returned his glare. Brawndy did not quail. “We will need proof of his guilt, King-in-Waiting Regal, before we will countenance his execution. In the meantime we expect you to keep him alive.”

“At least give him marching rations,” Kelvar advised. “No one will say you have pampered him with those, and we shall have a live man, either for you to hang or to command at Buck for us.”

Regal crossed his arms on his chest and made no reply. I knew I would get but water and half a loaf. I think he would have tried to take Brawndy’s cloak away from me, save that he knew I would have fought for it. With a jerk of his chin, Regal indicated to the guard that he could close my door. As it slammed shut I flung myself forward, to grip the bars and stare after them. I thought of calling out, of telling them all that Regal would not let me live, that he would find a way to kill me here. But I did not. They would not have believed me. They still did not fear Regal as they needed to. If they had known him as I did, they would have known that no promise could bind him to their bargain. He would kill me. I was too deeply within his power for him to resist ending me.

I let go of the door and walked woodenly back to my bench. I sat down. Reflex more than thought made me drape Brawndy’s cloak about my shoulders. The cold I felt now would not be warmed away by wool. As the wave of a rising tide rushes into a sea cavern, so the knowledge of my death once more filled me. Once again, I thought I might faint. I pushed at it, vaguely repelling at my own thoughts of how Regal might choose to kill me. There were so many ways. I suspected he would try to wring a confession from me. Given enough time, he might be successful. The thought made me sick. I tried to pull myself back from the brink, not to realize so thoroughly that I was going to die painfully.

With a peculiar lightening of heart, I reflected that I could cheat him. Within my blood-matted sleeve cuff was the tiny pocket that still held the poison I had so long ago prepared for Wallace. Had it offered a less horrendous death, I would have taken it right then. But I had not formulated that poison for a quick and painless sleep, but for cramps and flux and fever. Later, I thought, it might become preferable to whatever Regal offered. There was no comfort in that thought. I lay back on my slab and rolled myself up well in Brawndy’s ample cloak. I hoped he would not miss it too much. It was probably the last kind thing anyone would ever do for me. I did not fall asleep. I fled, willfully submerging myself into my wolf’s world.

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