rh.royalassassin-第132章

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er　she　left；　Burrich　turned　to　me　and　said；　〃That's　going　to　happen　once　too　often。〃
　　　　　　　〃What？〃
　　　　　　　〃A　wolf；　seen　in　your　vicinity。　Fitz；　have　a　care。　There　were　rumors；　back　when　you　killed　those　Forged　ones。　There　were　tracks　all　about；　and　the　marks　on　those　men　were　never　made　by　any　blade。　Someone　told　me　they　saw　a　wolf　prowling　Neatbay　the　night　of　the　battle。　I　even　heard　a　wild　tale　about　a　wolf　who　changed　into　a　man　when　the　battle　was　over。　There　were　tracks　in　the　mud　outside　the　Queen's　very　tent　from　that　night；　as　well　for　you　that　everyone　was　so　tired　and　in　so　much　of　a　hurry　to　dispose　of　the　dead。　There　were　a　few　there　that　did　not　die　at　a　man's　hand。〃
　　　　　　　A　few？　Fa！
　　　　　　　Burrich's　face　contorted　in　anger。　〃That　will　cease。　Now。〃
　　　　　　　You　are　strong；　Heart　of　the　Pack；　but
　　　　　　　The　thought　was　broken　and　I　heard　a　sudden　yelp　of　surprise　from　off　in　the　brush。　Several　of　the　horses　startled　and　looked　in　that　direction。　I　myself　was　staring　at　Burrich。　He　had　repelled　at　Nighteyes；　fiercely　and　from　a　distance。
　　　　　　　Luckily　for　you；　from　a　distance；　for　the　strength　of　that　。。。　I　began　to　warn　Nighteyes。
　　　　　　　Burrich's　gaze　swung　to　me。　〃I　said；　that　will　cease！　Now！〃　He　looked　aside　from　me　in　disgust。　〃I'd　rather　you　rode　with　your　hand　in　your　pants　than　that　you　did　that　constantly　in　my　presence。　It　offends　me。〃
　　　　　　　I　could　think　of　nothing　to　say。　Years　of　living　together　had　taught　me　that　he　would　not　be　argued　out　of　his　feelings　about　the　Wit。　He　knew　I　was　bonded　to　Nighteyes。　That　he　would　still　tolerate　my　presence　was　as　far　as　he　could　unbend。　I　need　not　constantly　remind　him　that　the　wolf　and　I　shared　minds。　I　bowed　my　head　in　assent。　That　night；　for　the　first　time　in　a　long　time；　my　dreams　were　my　own。
　　　　　　　I　dreamed　of　Molly。　She　wore　red　skirts　again；　and　crouched　on　the　beach；　cutting　sheel　from　the　stones　with　her　belt　knife　and　eating　them　rave。　She　looked　up　at　me　and　smiled。　I　came　closer。　She　leaped　up　and　ran　barefoot　down　the　beach　in　front　of　me。　I　chased　her；　but　she　was　as　fleet　as　she　had　ever　been。　Her　hair　blew　back　off　her　shoulders；　and　she　only　laughed　when　I　called　out　to　her　to　wait；　wait。　I　awoke　feeling　strangely　glad　that　she　had　outrun　me；　and　with　the　dream　scent　of　lavender　still　in　my　mind。
　　　　　　　We　expected　to　be　well　greeted　at　Buckkeep。　The　ships；　given　the　kinder　weather；　should　have　made　land　before　us；　to　give　tidings　of　our　success。　So　we　were　not　surprised　to　see　a　contingent　of　Regal's　guard　ing　forth　to　meet　us。　What　did　seem　strange　was　that　after　they　sighted　us；　they　continued　to　walk　their　horses。　Not　a　man　yelled；　or　waved　a　greeting。　Instead　they　came　toward　us　silent　and　sober　as　ghosts。　I　think　Burrich　and　I　saw　at　the　same　time　the　baton　the　lead　man　carried；　the　small　polished　stick　that　betokened　serious　tidings。
　　　　　　　He　turned　to　me　as　we　watched　them　approach。　Dread　was　written　large　on　his　face。　〃King　Shrewd　has　died？〃　he　suggested　softly。
　　　　　　　I　felt　no　surprise；　only　a　gaping　loss　in　me。　A　frightened　boy　inside　me　gasped　that　now　no　one　and　nothing　could　stand　between　me　and　Regal。　In　another　part；　I　wondered　what　it　would　have　been　like　to　call　him　〃Grandfather〃　instead　of　〃my　king。〃　But　those　selfish　parts　were　small　pared　with　what　it　meant　to　this　King's　Man。　Shrewd　had　shaped　me；　made　me　what　I　was；　for　good　or　ill。　He　had　picked　up　my　life　one　day；　a　boy　playing　under　a　table　in　the　Great　Hall；　and　set　his　stamp　upon　it。　His　decision　that　I　must　read　and　write；　must　be　able　to　wield　a　sword　or　disperse　a　poison。　It　seemed　to　me　that　with　his　passing；　I　must　take　responsibility　for　my　own　acts　now。　It　was　a　strangely　frightening　thought。
　　　　　　　All　had　bee　aware　of　the　lead　man's　burden。　We　halted　on　the　road。　Like　a　curtain　parting；　Kettricken's　guard　opened　to　allow　him　to　approach　her。　A　terrible　silence　held　as　he　handed　her　the　baton；　and　then　the　small　scroll。　The　red　sealing　wax　flaked　away　from　her　nail。　I　watched　it　fall　to　the　muddy　road。　Slowly　she　opened　the　scroll　and　read　it。　Something　went　out　of　her　in　that　reading。　Her　hand　fell　to　her　side。　She　let　the　scroll　follow　the　wax　to　the　mud；　a　thing　done　with；　a　thing　she　never　wished　to　peruse　again。　She　did　not　faint；　nor　cry　out。　Her　eyes　looked　afar；　and　she　set　her　hand　gently　atop　her　belly。　And　in　that　motion；　I　knew　it　was　not　Shrewd　who　was　dead；　but　Verity。
　　　　　　　I　reached　for　him。　Somewhere；　surely　somewhere；　coiled　small　inside　me；　a　spark　of　a　link；　the　tiniest　thread　of　a　connection　。。。　no。　I　did　not　even　know　when　it　had　vanished。　I　recalled　that　whenever　I　fought；　I　was　likely　to　break　my　link　with　him。　It　did　not　help。　I　recalled　now　what　had　seemed　just　an　oddity　on　the　night　of　the　battle。　I　had　thought　I　had　heard　Verity's　voice；　crying　out；　issuing　orders　that　made　no　sense。　I　could　not　recall　one　individual　word　of　what　he　might　have　shouted。　But　now　it　seemed　to　me　that　they　had　been　battle　orders；　orders　to　scatter；　to　seek　cover　perhaps；　or　。。。　but　I　could　not　recall　anything　with　certainty。　I　looked　over　at　Burrich；　to　find　the　question　in　his　eyes。　I　had　to　shrug。　〃I　don't　know；〃　I　said　quietly。　His　brow　furrowed　as　he　considered　this。
　　　　　　　Queen…in…Waiting　Kettricken　sat　very　still　on　her　horse。　No　one　moved　to　touch　her；　no　one　spoke　a　word。　I　glanced　at　Burrich；　met　his　eyes。　I　saw　fatalistic　resignation　there。　This　was　the　second　time　he　had　seen　a　King…in…Waiting　fall　before　ascending　the　throne。　After　a　long　silence；　Kettricken　turned　in　her　saddle。　She　surveyed　her　guard；　and　the　mounted　soldiers　who　followed　her。　〃Prince　Regal　has　had　tidings　that　King…in…Waiting　Verity　is　dead。〃　She　did　not　raise　her　voice；　but　her　clear　words　carried。　Merriment　faded；　and　the　triumph　went　out　of　many　an　eye。　She　gave　it　a　few　moments　to　settle　in。　Then　she　nudged　her　horse　to　a　walk；　and　we　followed　her　back　to　Buckkeep。
　　　　　　　We　approached　the　gate　unchallenged。　The　soldiers　on　watch　looked　up　at　us　as　we　passed。　One　made　a　sketchy　salute　to　the　Queen。　She　did　not　notice　it。　Burrich's　scowl　deepened；　but　he　said　nothing。
　　　　　　　Within　the　castle　courtyard；　it　seemed　an　ordinary　day。　Stable　help　came　to　take　the　horses　while　other　servants　and　folk　moved　about　on　the　ordinary　business　of　the　Keep。　Somehow　the　very　familiarity　of　it　rattled　against　my　nerves　like　stones。　Verity　was　dead。　It　did　not　seem　right　that　life　should　go　on　in　such　a　workaday　fashion。
　　　　　　　Burrich　had　helped　Kettricken　to　dismount　into　a　cluster　of　her　ladies。　A　part　of　me　noted　the　look　on　Foxglove's　face　as　Kettricken　was　hustled　away　by　court　ladies　who　were　exclaiming　over　how　worn　she　looked；　was　she　well；　amid　exclamations　of　sympathy；　regret；　and　sorrow。　A　twinge　of　jealousy　passed　over　the　face　of　the　captain　of　the　Queen's　guard。　Foxglove　was　but　a　soldier；　sworn　to　protect　her　queen。　She　could　not；　at　this　time；　follow　her　into　the　Keep；　no　matter　how　much　she　cared　about　her　queen。　Kettricken　was　in　the　care　of　her　court　ladies　now。　But　I　knew　Burrich　would　not　stand　guard　alone　before　Kettricken's　door　tonight。
　　　　　　　The　solicitous　murmuring　of　her　ladies　on　Kettricken's　behalf　was　enough　to　let　me　know　that　the　rumor　of　her　pregnancy　had　been　spread。　I　wonder　if　it　had　yet　been　shared　with　Regal。　I　was　well　aware　that　some　gossip　circulated　almost　entirely　through　the　women　before　being　mon　knowledge。　I　suddenly　wanted　very　badly　to　know　if　Regal　knew　that　Kettricken　carried　the　heir　to　the　throne。　I　handed　Sooty's　reins　to　Hands；　thanked　him；　and　promised　to　tell　him　all　later。　But　as　I　headed　for　the　Keep　Burrich's　hand　fell　on　my　shoulder。
　　　　　　　〃A　word　with　you。　Now。〃
　　　　　　　Sometimes　he　treated　me　almost　as　if　I　were　a　Prince；　sometimes　as　less　than　a　stable　boy。　These　words　now　were　no　request。　Hands　gave　me　Sooty's　reins　back　with　a　wry　smile　and　vanished　to　see　to　other　animals。　I　followed　Burrich　as　he　led　Ruddy　into　the　stables。　He　had　no　problem　finding　an　empty　stall　for　Ruddy　near　Sooty's　regular　stall。　There　were　only　too　many　stalls　available。　We　both　began　matter…of…factly　to　work　on　the　horses。　The　old　familiarity　of　that　routine；　seeing　to　a　horse　while　Burrich　worked　nearby；　was　forting。　Our