rh.theassassinsapprentice-第69部分

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That　had　been　the　extent　of　our　conversation。　But　I　had　noticed　that　he　ate　like　an　invalid；　without　appetite；　eschewing　meat　and　bread　as　if　they　were　too　great　of　an　effort　to　chew　and　swallow　and　instead　subsisting　on　porridges　and　soups。
　　　　　　　〃He　is　using　the　Skill　too　much。　That　much　Shrewd　has　told　me。　But　why　it　should　drain　him　so；　why　it　should　burn　the　very　flesh　from　his　bones；　he　cannot　explain　to　me。　So　I　give　him　tonics　and　elixirs；　and　try　to　get　him　to　rest。　But　he　cannot。　He　dares　not；　he　says。　He　tells　me　that　only　all　his　efforts　are　sufficient　to　delude　the　Red…Ship　navigators；　to　send　their　ships　onto　the　rocks；　to　discourage　their　captains。　And　so　he　rises　from　bed；　and　goes　to　his　chair　by　a　window；　and　there　he　sits；　all　the　day。〃
　　　　　　　〃And　Galen's　coterie？　Are　they　of　no　use　to　him？〃　I　asked　the　question　almost　jealously；　almost　hoping　to　hear　they　were　of　no　consequence。
　　　　　　　Chade　sighed。　〃I　think　he　uses　them　as　I　would　use　carrier　pigeons。　He　has　sent　them　out　to　the　towers；　and　he　uses　them　to　convey　warnings　to　his　soldiers；　and　to　receive　from　them　sightings　of　ships。　But　the　task　of　defending　the　coast　he　trusts　to　no　one　else。　Others；　he　tells　me；　would　be　too　inexperienced；　they　might　betray　themselves　to　those　they　Skilled。　I　do　not　understand。　But　I　know　he　cannot　continue　much　longer。　I　pray　for　the　end　of　summer；　for　winter　storms　to　blow　the　Red…Ships　home。　Would　there　was　someone　to　spell　him　at　this　work。　I　fear　it　will　consume　him。〃
　　　　　　　I　took　that　as　a　rebuke　for　my　failure　and　subsided　into　a　sulky　silence。　I　drifted　around　his　chambers；　finding　them　both　familiar　and　strange　after　my　months　of　absence。　The　apparatus　for　his　herbal　work　was；　as　always；　cluttered　about。　Slink　was　very　much　in　evidence；　with　his　smelly　bits　of　bones　in　corners。　As　always；　there　was　an　assortment　of　tablets　and　scrolls　by　various　chairs。　This　crop　seemed　to　deal　mostly　with　Elderlings。　I　wandered　about；　intrigued　by　the　colored　illustrations。　One　tablet；　older　and　more　elaborate　than　the　rest；　depicted　an　Elderling　as　a　sort　of　gilded　bird　with　a　manlike　head　crowned　with　quillish　hair。　I　began　to　piece　out　the　words。　It　was　in　Piche；　an　ancient　native　tongue　of　Chalced；　the　southernmost　Duchy。　Many　of　the　painted　symbols　had　faded　or　flaked　away　from　the　old　wood；　and　I　had　never　been　fluent　in　Piche。　Chade　came　to　stand　at　my　elbow。
　　　　　　　〃You　know；〃　he　said　gently；　〃it　was　not　easy　for　me；　but　I　kept　my　word。　Galen　demanded　plete　control　of　his　students。　He　expressly　stipulated　that　no　one　might　contact　you　or　interfere　in　any　way　with　your　discipline　and　instruction。　And；　as　I　told　you；　in　the　Queen's　Garden；　I　am　blind　and　without　influence。〃
　　　　　　　〃I　knew　that；〃　I　muttered。
　　　　　　　〃Yet　I　did　not　disagree　with　Burrich's　actions。　Only　my　word　to　my　king　kept　me　from　contacting　you。〃　He　paused　cautiously。　〃It　has　been　a　difficult　time；　I　know。　I　wish　I　could　have　helped　you。　And　you　should　not　feel　too　badly　that　you　。。。〃
　　　　　　　〃Failed。〃　I　filled　in　the　word　while　he　searched　for　a　gentler　one。　I　sighed；　and　suddenly　admitted　my　pain。　〃Let's　leave　it；　Chade。　I　can't　change　it。〃
　　　　　　　〃I　know。〃　Then；　even　more　carefully：　〃But　perhaps　we　can　use　what　you　learned　of　the　Skill。　If　you　can　help　me　understand　it；　perhaps　I　can　devise　better　ways　to　spare　Verity。　For　so　many　years　the　knowledge　has　been　kept　too　secret　。。。　there　is　scarcely　a　mention　of　it　in　the　old　scrolls；　save　to　say　that　such　and　such　a　battle　was　turned　by　the　King's　Skill　upon　his　soldiers；　or　such　and　such　an　enemy　was　confounded　by　the　King's　Skill。　Yet　there　is　nothing　of　how　it　is　done；　or…〃
　　　　　　　Despair　closed　its　grip　on　me　again。　〃Leave　it。　It　is　not　for　bastards　to　know。　I　think　I've　proved　that。〃
　　　　　　　A　silence　fell　between　us。　At　last　Chade　sighed　heavily。　〃Well。　That's　as　may　be。　I've　been　looking　into　Forging　as　well；　over　these　last　few　months。　But　all　I've　learned　of　it　is　what　it　is　not；　and　what　does　not　work　to　change　it。　The　only　cure　I've　found　for　it　is　the　oldest　one　known　to　work　on　anything。〃
　　　　　　　I　rolled　and　fastened　the　scroll　I　had　been　looking　at；　feeling　I　knew　what　was　ing。　I　was　not　mistaken。
　　　　　　　〃The　King　has　charged　me　with　an　assignment　for　you。〃
　　　　　　　That　summer；　over　three　months；　I　killed　seventeen　times　for　the　King。　Had　I　not　already　killed；　out　of　my　own　volition　and　defense；　it　might　have　been　harder。
　　　　　　　The　assignments　might　have　seemed　simple。　Me；　a　horse；　and　panniers　of　poisoned　bread。　I　rode　roads　where　travelers　had　reported　being　attacked；　and　when　the　Forged　ones　attacked　me；　I　fled；　leaving　a　trail　of　spilled　loaves。　Perhaps　if　I　had　been　an　ordinary　man…at…arms；　I　would　have　been　less　frightened。　But　all　my　life　I　had　been　accustomed　to　relying　on　my　Wit　to　let　me　know　when　others　were　about。　To　me；　it　was　tantamount　to　having　to　work　without　using　my　eyes。　And　I　swiftly　found　out　that　not　all　Forged　ones　had　been　cobblers　and　weavers。　The　second　little　clan　of　them　that　I　poisoned　had　several　soldiers　among　them。　I　was　fortunate　that　most　of　them　were　squabbling　over　loaves　when　I　was　dragged　from　my　horse。　I　took　a　deep　cut　from　a　knife；　and　to　this　day　I　bear　the　scar　on　my　left　shoulder。　They　were　strong　and　petent；　and　seemed　to　fight　as　a　unit；　perhaps　because　that　was　how　they　had　been　drilled；　back　when　they　were　fully　human。　I　would　have　died；　except　that　I　cried　out　to　them　that　it　was　foolish　to　struggle　with　me　while　the　others　were　eating　all　the　bread。　They　dropped　me；　I　struggled　to　my　horse；　and　escaped。
　　　　　　　The　poisons　were　no　crueler　than　they　had　to　be；　but　to　be　effective　even　in　the　smallest　dosage；　we　had　to　use　harsh　ones。　The　Forged　ones　did　not　die　gently；　but　it　was　as　swift　a　death　as　Chade　could　concoct。　They　snatched　their　deaths　from　me　eagerly；　and　I　did　not　have　to　witness　their　frothing　convulsions；　or　even　see　their　bodies　by　the　road。　When　news　of　the　fallen　Forged　ones　reached　Buckkeep；　Chade's　tale　that　they　had　probably　died　from　eating　spoiled　fish　from　spawning　streams　had　already　spread　as　a　ubiquitous　rumor。　Relatives　collected　the　bodies　and　gave　them　proper　burial。　I　told　myself　they　were　probably　relieved；　and　that　the　Forged　ones　had　met　a　quicker　end　than　if　they　had　starved　to　death　over　winter。　And　so　I　became　accustomed　to　killing；　and　had　nearly　a　score　of　deaths　to　my　credit　before　I　had　to　meet　the　eyes　of　a　man；　and　then　kill　him。
　　　　　　　That　one；　too；　was　not　so　difficult　as　it　might　have　been。　He　was　a　minor　lordling；　holding　lands　outside　of　Turlake。　A　story　reached　Buckkeep　that　he　had；　in　a　temper；　struck　the　child　of　a　servant；　and　left　the　girl　a　witling。　That　was　sufficient　to　raise　King　Shrewd's　lip。　The　lordling　had　paid　the　full　blood　debt；　and　by　accepting　it；　the　servant　had　given　up　any　form　of　the　King's　justice。　But　some　months　later　there　came　to　court　a　cousin　of　the　girl's；　and　she　petitioned　for　private　audience　with　Shrewd。
　　　　　　　I　was　sent　to　confirm　her　tale　and　saw　how　the　girl　was　kept　like　a　dog　at　the　foot　of　the　lordling's　chair；　and　more；　how　her　belly　had　begun　to　swell　with　child。　And　so　it　was　not　too　difficult；　as　he　offered　me　wine　in　fine　crystal　and　begged　the　latest　news　of　the　King's　court　at　Buckkeep；　for　me　to　find　a　time　to　lift　his　glass　to　the　light　and　praise　the　quality　of　both　vessel　and　wine。　I　left　some　days　later；　my　errand　pleted；　with　the　samples　of　paper　I　had　promised　Fedwren；　and　the　conveyed　wishes　of　the　lordling　for　a　good　trip　home。　The　lordling　was　indisposed　that　day。　He　died；　in　blood　and　madness　and　froth；　a　month　or　so　later。　The　cousin　took　in　both　girl　and　child。　To　this　day；　I　have　no　regrets；　for　the　deed　or　for　the　choice　of　slow　death　for　him。
　　　　　　　And　when　I　was　not　dealing　death　to　Forged　ones；　I　waited　on　my　lord　Prince　Verity。　I　remember　the　first　time　I　climbed　all　those　stairs　to　his　tower；　balancing　a　tray　as　I　went。　I　had　expected　a　guard　or　sentry　at　the　top。　There　was　none。　I　tapped　at　the　door；　and　receiving　no　answer；　entered　quietly。　Verity　was　sitting　in　a　chair　by　a　window。　A　summer　wind　off　the　ocean　blew　into　the　room。　It　could　have　been　a　pleasant　chamber；　full　of　light　and　air　on　a　stuffy　summer　day。　Instead　it　seemed　to　me　a　cell。　There　was　the　chair　by　the　window；　and　a　small　table　next　to　it。　In　the　corners　and　around　the　edges　of　the　room　the　floor　was　dusty　and　littered　with　bits　of　old　strewing　reeds。　And　Verity；　chin　slumped　to　his　chest　as　if　dozing；　except　that　to　my　senses　the　room　thrummed　with　his　effort。　His　hair　was　unkempt；　his　chin　bewhiskered　with　a　day's　growth。　His　clothing　hung　on　him。
　　　　　　　I　pushed　the　door　shut　with　my　foot　and　took　the　tray　to　the　table。　I　set　it　down　and　stood　beside　it；　quietly　waiting。　And　in　a　few　minutes　he　came　back　from　wherever　he　had　been。　He　looked　up　at　me　with　a　ghost　of　his　old　smile；　and　then　down　at　his　tray。　〃What's　this？〃
　　　　　　　〃Breakfast；　sir。　Everyone　else　ate　hours　ago；　save　yourself。〃
　　　　　　　〃I　ate；　boy。　Early　this　morning。　Some　awful　fish　soup。　The　cooks　should　be　hanged　for　that。　No　one　should　face　fish　first　thing　in　the　morning。〃　He　seemed　uncertain；　like　some　doddering　gaffer　trying　to　recall　the　days　of　his　youth。
　　　　　　　〃That　was