Royal Assassin - Страница 139

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No! No! Nighteyes howled in desperation. To me! Come to me, let go of that, come to me!

But there was the scuff of footsteps, and the mutter of voices. A shudder of fear went through me, and despite myself, I cowered deeper into Brawndy’s cloak. One eye would open a bit. It showed me the same dimly lit cell, the same tiny barred window. There was a deep cold pain inside me, something more insidious than hunger. They had broken no bones, but inside me, something was torn. I knew it.

You are back in the cage! Nighteyes cried. Leave it! Leave your body and come to me!

It’s too late, I whispered. Run away, run away. Don’t share this.

Are we not pack? Desperation as throbbing as a wolf’s drawn-out howl.

They were at my door, it was swinging open. Fear seized me in its jaws and shook me. Almost I lifted my cuff to my mouth and chewed the pellet from my sleeve right then. Instead, I gripped the tiny paper packet in my fist and made a determined resolution to forget about it.

The same man with the torch, the same two guards. The same command. “You. On your feet.”

I pushed Brawndy’s cloak aside. One of the guards was still human enough to pale at what he saw. The other two were stolid. And when I could not move swiftly enough to suit them, one seized me by the arm and jerked me to my feet. I cried out wordlessly with pain; I could not help it. And that response set me to trembling with fear. If I could not keep from crying out, how could I hold my defenses against Will?

They took me from my cell and down the hall. I do not say I walked. All my bruises had stiffened in the night. The beating had reopened the sword cuts on my right forearm and on my thigh. Those pains, too, had been renewed. Pain was like air now; I moved through it, I breathed it in and out of myself. In the center of the guardroom, one shoved me and I fell. I lay on the floor on my side. I saw no point to struggling to sit up; I had no dignity to save. Better that they thought I could not stand. While I could, I would be still and marshall whatever strength I could still call my own. Slowly, laboriously, I cleared myself and began to set the guards on my mind. Over and over, through the pain haze, I went over the Skill walls I had erected, strengthening them, sealing myself away behind them. The walls of my mind were what I must guard, not the flesh of my body. Around me in the room, men lined the walls. They shuffled, and spoke quietly among themselves, waiting. I scarcely noticed them. My world was my walls and my pain.

There was the creak and draft of an opened door. Regal came in. Will walked behind him, carelessly radiating Skill strength. I was aware of him as I had never before been aware of a man. Even without sight, I could sense him, the shape of him, the heat of the Skill that burned inside him. He was dangerous. Regal supposed he was only a tool. I dared a tiny satisfaction in knowing Regal did not know the perils of such a tool as Will.

Regal took his chair. Someone brought a small table for him. I heard a bottle opened, then smelled wine as it was poured. The pain had tuned my senses to an unbearable keenness. I listened to Regal drink. I refused to acknowledge how much I longed for it.

“Dear me. Look at him. Do you suppose we have gone too far, Will?” Something in the arch amusement in Regal’s voice informed me that he had taken more than wine today. Smoke, perhaps? So early? The wolf had said dawn. Regal would never be up at dawn . . . something was wrong with my time sense.

Will walked slowly toward me, stood over me. I did not try to move to see his face. I gripped my tiny store of strength firmly. He nudged me sharply with his foot and I gasped despite myself. At almost the same instant he slammed his Skill strength against me. There, at least, I held firm. Will took a short breath through his nose, snorted it out. He walked back to Regal.

“Your Majesty. You’ve done almost as much as you can to his body, without risking damage that would plainly show even a month hence. But within, he still resists. Pain can distract him from warding his mind, but it does not inherently weaken his Skill strength. I do not think you will break him this way.”

“I did not ask you that, Will!” Regal rebuked him sharply. I listened to him shift himself to a more comfortable position. “Ah, this takes too long. My dukes grow impatient. He must be broken today.” Almost pensively, he asked Will, “Almost as much as I can, you say, to his body? What then would you suggest as the next step?”

“Leave him alone with me. I can get what you wish from him.”

“No.” Regal’s refusal was flat. “I know what you want from him, Will. You see him as a fat wineskin, full of Skill strength, which you would like to drain. Well, perhaps, at the end, there will be a way for you to have him. But not just yet. I want him to stand before the Dukes and confess himself a traitor. More, I want him to grovel before the throne and beg for mercy. I will have him denounce all those who have defied me. He, himself, shall accuse them. No one will doubt it when he says they are traitors. Let Duke Brawndy see his own daughter accused, let all the court hear that the Lady Patience who cries so loudly for justice has herself betrayed the crown. And for him . . . that candle maker girl, that Molly.”

My heart lurched sideways inside me.

“I have not yet found her, my lord,” Will ventured.

“Silence!” Regal thundered. Almost, he sounded like King Shrewd. “Do not hearten him with that. She need not be found to be declared a traitor by his own lips. We can find her at our leisure. He can go to his death, knowing she will follow him, betrayed by his words. I will cleanse Buckkeep from dung heap to tower top of all who have sought to betray me and defy me!” He lifted his cup in a toast to himself and drank deeply.

He sounded, I thought to myself, very like Queen Desire had in her cups. One part braggart to one part sniveling coward. He would fear everyone he did not control. And the next day he would fear those he controlled even more.

Regal set his wine cup down with a thud. He leaned back in his chair. “Well. Let’s continue, shall we? Kelfry, stand him up for us.”

Kelfry was a competent man who took no joy in his work. He was not gentle, but neither was he rougher than he needed to be. He stood behind me, gripping me by the upper arms to keep me upright. Hod had not trained him. I knew if I snapped my head back swiftly, I could break his nose and possibly take out some of his front teeth. Snapping my head back swiftly struck me as only slightly simpler than picking up the floor under my own feet would be. I stood, hands curled defensively over my belly, pushing the pain aside, gathering my strength. After a moment I lifted my head and regarded Regal.

I ran my tongue about the inside of my mouth to free my lips from my teeth, then spoke. “You killed your own father.”

Regal stiffened in his chair. The man holding me tensed. I leaned in his arms, forcing him to support my weight.

“Serene and Justin did it, but you ordered it,” I said quietly. Regal came to his feet.

“But not before we had Skilled to Verity.” I made my voice louder. The effort broke sweat on me. “Verity’s alive, and he knows everything.” Regal was coming at me, with Will right behind him. I swung my gaze to Will, put threat in my voice. “He knows about you, too, Will. He knows it all.”

The guard held me as Regal backhanded me. Once. Another slap, and I felt the swollen skin of my face split under the impact. Regal drew his fist back. I set myself to take it, pushed away all pain, centered myself, got ready.

“Look out!” Will yelled, and sprang to knock Regal aside.

I had wanted it too badly, he had Skilled what I intended to do. As Regal swung I jerked free of my guard, slipped aside from Regal’s blow, then stepped in. With one hand I seized the back of Regal’s neck, to pull his face toward my other hand that gripped the now crushed paper of powder. My intent had been to rub it into his nose and mouth, to hope against hope he’d get enough of it to kill him.

Will spoiled it all. My swollen fingers would not close on Regal’s neck. Will snatched Regal from my wooden grasp, swung him sideways away from me. As Will’s shoulder collided with my chest I reached for his face instead, ground the torn paper and fine white powder into his nose and mouth and eyes. Most of it floated up in a fine cloud between us. I saw him gasp at the bitterness and then we were down, both of us, under a wave of Regal’s guards.

I dove for unconsciousness, but it eluded me. I was struck, kicked, and throttled before Regal’s frenzied cries of “Don’t kill him! Don’t kill him!” seemed to matter to anyone save me. I felt them get off me, felt them drag Will from under me, but I could not see. Blood was sheeting down over my face. My tears mingled with it. My last chance, and I had failed. I had not even gotten Will. Oh, he would be sick for a few days, but I doubted he would die of it. Even now I heard them muttering over him.

“Take him to a healer, then.” I heard Regal finally give the command. “See if he can figure out what’s wrong with him. Did one of you kick him in the head?”

I thought that he spoke of me, until I heard the sounds of Will being carried out. So either I had gotten more into him than I had thought, or someone had kicked him in the head. Perhaps his gasp had pulled it into his lungs. I had no idea what it would do there. As I felt his Skill presence fading it was relief almost as blessed as surcease from pain. Cautiously I relaxed my vigilance against him. It was like setting down a terribly heavy weight. Another thought blessed me. They didn’t know. No one had seen the paper and powder, it had happened too quickly for them. They might not even think of poison until it was too late for him.

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