rh.theassassinsapprentice-第104章

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　dreamed　only　of　endlessly　drowning。　From　one　such　dream　I　woke　to　Verity　standing　over　me。
　　　　　　　You're　enough　to　wake　the　dead；　he　told　me　genially。　We　must　find　a　master　for　you；　to　teach　you　some　control；　if　nothing　else。　Kettricken　finds　it　a　bit　peculiar　that　I　dream　so　often　of　drowning。　I　suppose　I　should　be　grateful　you　slept　well　on　my　wedding　night　at　least。
　　　　　　　〃Verity？〃　I　said　groggily。
　　　　　　　Go　back　to　sleep；　he　told　me。　Galen　is　dead；　and　I've　put　Regal　on　a　shorter　leash。　You've　nothing　to　fear。　Go　to　sleep；　and　stop　dreaming　so　loud。
　　　　　　　Verity；　wait！　But　my　act　of　groping　after　him　broke　the　tenuous　Skill　contact；　and　I　had　no　choice　but　to　do　as　he　had　advised。
　　　　　　　We　traveled　on；　through　increasingly　unpleasant　weather。　We　all　looked　forward　to　getting　home　long　before　we　arrived　there。　Burrich　had；　I　believe；　overlooked　Hands's　abilities　until　that　trip。　Hands　had　a　quiet　petence　that　inspired　trust　in　horses　as　well　as　dogs。　Eventually　he　easily　replaced　both　Cob　and　me　in　the　Buckkeep　stables；　and　the　friendship　that　grew　between　Burrich　and　him　caused　me　to　be　more　aware　of　my　aloneness　than　I　care　to　admit。
　　　　　　　Galen's　death　was　considered　a　tragic　thing　at　Buckkeep　court。　Those　who　had　known　him　least　spoke　most　kindly　about　him。　Obviously　the　man　had　overstrained　himself；　for　his　heart　to　fail　him　so　young。　There　was　some　talk　of　naming　a　warship　after　him；　as　if　he　were　a　fallen　hero；　but　Verity　never　recognized　the　idea　and　it　never　came　to　pass。　His　body　was　sent　back　to　Farrow　for　burial；　with　all　honors。　If　Shrewd　suspected　anything　of　what　had　gone　on　between　Verity　and　Galen；　he　kept　it　well　hidden。　Neither　he　nor　even　Chade　ever　mentioned　it　to　me。　The　loss　of　our　Skillmaster；　with　not　even　an　apprentice　to　replace　him；　was　no　trivial　thing；　especially　with　the　Red…Ships　on　our　horizons。　That　was　what　was　openly　discussed；　but　Verity　flatly　refused　to　consider　Serene　or　any　of　the　others　Galen　had　trained。
　　　　　　　I　never　found　out　if　Shrewd　had　given　me　over　to　Regal。　I　never　asked　him；　nor　even　mentioned　my　suspicions　to　Chade。　I　suppose　I　didn't　want　to　know。　I　tried　not　to　let　it　affect　my　loyalties。　But　in　my　heart；　when　I　said　〃my　king；〃　I　meant　Verity。
　　　　　　　The　timbers　Rurisk　had　promised　came　to　Buckkeep。　They　had　to　be　dragged　overland　to　the　Vin　River；　before　they　could　be　rafted　down　to　Turlake；　and　thence　down　the　Buckriver　to　Buckkeep。　They　arrived　by　midwinter　and　were　all　Rurisk　had　said　they　would　be。　The　first　pleted　warship　was　named　after　him。　I　think　he　would　have　understood　that；　but　not　quite　approved　of　it。
　　　　　　　King　Shrewd's　plan　had　succeeded。　It　had　been　many　years　since　Buckkeep　had　had　a　queen　of　any　kind；　and　Kettricken's　arrival　stirred　interest　in　court　life。　The　tragic　death　of　her　brother　on　her　wedding　eve；　and　the　brave　way　she　had　continued　despite　it　captured　the　imagination　of　the　people。　Her　unmistakable　admiration　for　her　new　husband　made　Verity　a　romantic　hero　even　to　his　own　folk。　They　were　a　striking　couple；　with　her　youth　and　pale　beauty　setting　off　Verity's　quiet　strength。　Shrewd　displayed　them　at　balls　that　attracted　every　minor　noble　from　every　Duchy；　and　Kettricken　spoke　with　intense　eloquence　of　the　need　for　all　to　band　together　to　defeat　the　Red…Ship　Raiders。　So　Shrewd　raised　his　monies；　and　even　in　the　storms　of　winter；　the　fortification　of　the　Six　Duchies　began。　More　towers　were　constructed；　and　folk　volunteered　to　man　them。　Shipwrights　vied　for　the　honor　of　working　on　the　warships；　and　Buckkeep　Town　was　swollen　with　volunteers　to　man　the　ships。　For　a　brief　time　that　winter；　folk　believed　in　the　legends　they　created；　and　it　seemed　the　Red…Ships　could　be　defeated　by　sheer　will　alone。　I　mistrusted　that　mood；　but　watched　as　Shrewd　promoted　it；　and　wondered　how　he　would　sustain　it　when　the　realities　of　the　Forgings　began　again。
　　　　　　　Of　one　other　I　must　speak；　one　dragged　into　that　conflict　and　intrigue　only　by　his　loyalty　to　me。　To　the　end　of　my　days；　I　will　bear　the　scars　he　gave　me。　His　worn　teeth　sank　deeply　into　my　hand　several　times　before　he　managed　to　drag　me　from　that　pool。　How　he　did　it；　I　will　never　know。　But　his　head　still　rested　on　my　chest　when　they　found　us；　his　mortal　bonds　to　this　world　had　broken。　Nosy　was　dead。　I　believe　he　gave　his　life　freely；　recalling　that　we　had　been　good　to　one　another　when　we　were　puppies。　Men　cannot　grieve　as　dogs　do。　But　we　grieve　for　many　years。
　　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　EPILOGUE
　　　　　　　〃YOU　ARE　WEARIED；〃　my　boy　says。　He　is　standing　at　my　elbow　and　I　do　not　know　how　long　he　has　been　there。　He　reaches　forward　slowly；　to　lift　the　pen　from　my　lax　grip。　Wearily　I　regard　the　faltering　trail　of　ink　it　has　tracked　down　my　page。　I　have　seen　that　shape　before；　I　think；　but　it　was　not　ink　then。　A　trickle　of　drying　blood　on　the　deck　of　a　Red…Ship；　and　mine　the　hand　that　spilled　it？　Or　was　it　a　tendril　of　smoke　rising　black　against　a　blue　sky　as　I　rode　too　late　to　warn　a　village　of　a　Red…Ship　raid？　Or　poison　swirling　and　unfurling　yellowly　in　a　simple　glass　of　water；　poison　I　had　handed　someone；　smiling　all　the　while？　The　artless　curl　of　a　strand　of　woman's　hair　left　upon　my　pillow？　Or　the　trail　a　man's　heels　left　in　the　sand　as　we　dragged　the　bodies　from　the　smoldering　tower　at　Sealbay？　The　track　of　a　tear　down　a　mother's　cheek　as　she　clutched　her　Forged　infant　to　her　despite　his　angry　cries？　Like　Red…Ships；　the　memories　e　without　warning；　without　mercy。　〃You　should　rest；〃　the　boy　says　again；　and　I　realize　I　am　sitting；　staring　at　a　line　of　ink　on　a　page。　It　makes　no　sense。　Here　is　another　sheet　spoiled；　another　effort　to　set　aside。
　　　　　　　〃Put　them　away；〃　I　tell　him；　and　do　not　object　as　he　gathers　all　the　sheets　and　stacks　them　haphazardly　together。　Herbary　and　history；　maps　and　musings；　all　a　hodgepodge　in　his　hands　as　they　are　in　my　mind。　I　can　no　longer　recall　what　it　was　I　set　out　to　do。　The　pain　is　back；　and　it　would　be　so　easy　to　quiet　it。　But　that　way　lies　madness；　as　has　been　proven　so　many　times　before　me。　So　instead　I　send　the　boy　to　find　two　leaves　of　carryme；　and　ginger　root　and　peppermint　to　make　a　tea　for　me。　I　wonder　if　one　day　I　will　ask　him　to　fetch　three　leaves　of　that　Chyurdan　herb。
　　　　　　　Somewhere；　a　friend　says　softly；　〃No。〃