rh.theassassinsapprentice-第23部分

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d　then　to　another　shelf　whence　she　took　two　fat　pink　candles。
　　　　　　　〃I　only　need…〃
　　　　　　　〃Shush。　There's　no　charge　for　any　of　these。　The　sweetberry…blossom　ones　will　give　you　calm　dreams。　I　very　much　enjoy　them；　and　I　think　you　will；　too。〃　Her　voice　was　friendly；　but　as　she　put　them　into　my　basket　I　knew　she　was　waiting　for　me　to　leave。　Still；　she　walked　to　the　door　with　me；　and　opened　it　softly　lest　it　wake　her　father。　〃Goodbye；　Newboy；〃　she　said；　and　then　gave　me　one　real　smile。　〃Nosegay。　I　never　knew　she　called　me　that。　Nosebleed；　they　called　me　on　the　streets。　I　suppose　the　older　ones　who　knew　what　name　she　had　given　me　thought　it　was　funny。　And　after　a　while　they　probably　forgot　it　had　ever　been　anything　else。　Well。　I　don't　care。　I　have　it　now。　A　name　from　my　mother。〃
　　　　　　　〃It　suits　you；〃　I　said　in　a　sudden　burst　of　gallantry；　and　then；　as　she　stared　and　the　heat　rose　in　my　cheeks；　I　hurried　away　from　the　door。　I　was　surprised　to　find　that　it　was　late　afternoon；　nearly　evening。　I　raced　through　the　rest　of　my　errands；　begging　the　last　item　on　my　list；　a　weasel's　skin；　through　the　shutters　of　the　merchant's　window。　Grudgingly　he　opened　his　door　to　me；　plaining　that　he　liked　to　eat　his　supper　hot；　but　I　thanked　him　so　profusely　he　must　have　believed　me　a　little　daft。
　　　　　　　I　was　hurrying　up　the　steepest　part　of　the　road　back　to　the　keep　when　I　heard　the　unexpected　sounds　of　horses　behind　me。　They　were　ing　up　from　the　dock　section　of　town；　and　being　ridden　hard。　It　was　ridiculous。　No　one　kept　horses　in　town；　for　the　roads　were　too　steep　and　rocky　to　make　them　of　much　use。　Also；　the　town　was　crowded　into　such　a　small　area　as　to　make　riding　a　horse　a　vanity　rather　than　a　convenience。　So　these　must　be　horses　from　the　keep's　stables。　I　stepped　to　one　side　of　the　road　and　waited；　curious　to　see　who　would　risk　Burrich's　wrath　by　riding　horses　at　such　speed　on　slick　and　uneven　cobbles　in　poor　light。
　　　　　　　To　my　shock　they　were　Regal　and　Verity　on　the　matched　blacks　that　were　Burrich's　pride。　Verity　carried　a　plumed　baton；　such　as　messengers　to　the　keep　carried　when　the　news　they　bore　was　of　the　utmost　importance。　At　sight　of　me　standing　quietly　beside　the　road　they　both　pulled　in　their　horses　so　violently　that　Regal's　spun　aside　and　nearly　went　down　on　his　knees。
　　　　　　　〃Burrich　will　have　fits　if　you　break　that　colt's　knees；〃　I　cried　out　in　dismay；　and　ran　toward　him。
　　　　　　　Regal　gave　an　inarticulate　cry；　and　a　half　instant　later　Verity　shakily　laughed　at　him。　〃You　thought　he　was　a　ghost；　same　as　I。　Whoa；　lad；　you　gave　us　a　turn；　standing　so　quiet　as　that。　And　looking　so　much　like　him。　Ey；　Regal？〃
　　　　　　　〃Verity；　you're　a　fool。　Hold　your　tongue。〃　Regal　gave　his　mount's　mouth　a　vindictive　jerk　and　then　tugged　his　jerkin　smooth　again。　〃What　are　you　doing　out　on　this　road　so　late；　bastard？　Just　what　do　you　think　you're　up　to；　sneaking　away　from　the　keep　and　into　town　at　this　hour？〃
　　　　　　　I　was　used　to　Regal's　disdain　for　me。　This　sharp　rebuke　was　something　new；　however。　Usually；　he　did　little　more　than　avoid　me；　or　hold　himself　away　from　me　as　if　I　were　fresh　manure。　The　surprise　made　me　answer　quickly；　〃I'm　on　my　way　back；　not　to；　sir。　I've　been　running　errands　for　Fedwren。〃　And　I　held　up　my　basket　as　proof。
　　　　　　　〃Of　course　you　have。〃　He　sneered。　〃Such　a　likely　tale。　It's　a　bit　too　much　of　a　coincidence；　bastard。〃　Again　he　flung　the　word　at　me。
　　　　　　　I　must　have　looked　both　hurt　and　confused；　for　Verity　snorted　in　his　bluff　way　and　said；　〃Don't　mind　him；　boy。　You　gave　us　both　a　bit　of　a　turn。　A　river　ship　just　came　into　town；　flying　the　pennant　for　a　special　message。　And　when　Regal　and　I　rode　down　to　get　it；　to　and　behold；　it's　from　Patience；　to　tell　us　Chivalry's　dead。　Then；　as　we　e　up　the　road；　what　do　we　see　but　the　very　image　of　him　as　a　boy；　standing　silent　before　us；　and　of　course　we　were　in　that　frame　of　mind　and…〃
　　　　　　　〃You　are　such　an　idiot；　Verity；〃　Regal　spat。　〃Trumpet　it　out　for　the　whole　town　to　hear；　before　the　King's　even　been　told。　And　don't　put　ideas　in　the　bastard's　head　that　he　looks　like　Chivalry。　From　what　I　hear；　he　has　ideas　enough；　and　we　can　thank　our　dear　father　for　that。　e　on。　We've　got　a　message　to　deliver。〃
　　　　　　　Regal　jerked　his　mount's　head　up　again　and　then　set　spurs　to　him。　I　watched　him　go；　and　for　an　instant　I　swear　all　I　thought　was　that　I　should　go　by　the　stable　when　I　got　back　to　the　keep；　to　check　on　the　poor　beast　and　see　how　badly　his　mouth　was　bruised。　But　for　some　reason　I　looked　up　at　Verity　and　said；　〃My　father's　dead。〃
　　　　　　　He　sat　still　on　his　horse。　Bigger　and　bulkier　than　Regal；　he　still　always　sat　a　horse　better。　I　think　it　was　the　soldier　in　him。　He　looked　at　me　in　silence　for　a　moment。　Then　he　said；　〃Yes。　My　brother's　dead。〃　He　granted　me　that；　my　uncle；　that　instant　of　kinship；　and　I　think　that　ever　after　it　changed　how　I　saw　the　man。　〃Up　behind　me；　boy；　and　I'll　take　you　back　to　the　keep；〃　he　offered。
　　　　　　　〃No；　thank　you。　Burrich　would　take　my　hide　off　for　riding　a　horse　double　on　this　road。〃
　　　　　　　〃That　he　would；　boy；〃　Verity　agreed　kindly。　Then：　〃I'm　sorry　you　found　out　this　way。　I　wasn't　thinking。　It　does　not　seem　it　can　be　real。〃　I　caught　a　glimpse　of　his　true　grief；　and　then　he　leaned　forward　and　spoke　to　his　horse　and　it　sprang　forward。　In　moments　I　was　alone　on　the　road　again。
　　　　　　　A　fine　misting　rain　began　and　the　last　natural　light　died；　and　still　I　stood　there。　I　looked　up　at　the　keep；　black　against　the　stars；　with　here　and　there　a　bit　of　light　spilling　out。　For　a　moment　I　thought　of　setting　my　basket　down　and　running　away；　running　off　into　the　darkness　and　never　ing　back。　Would　anyone　ever　e　looking　for　me？　I　wondered。　But　instead　I　shifted　my　basket　to　my　other　arm　and　began　my　slow　trudge　back　up　the　hill。
　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　CHAPTER　SEVEN
　　　　　　　An　Assignment
　　　　　　　THERE　WERE　RUMORS　OF　poison　when　Queen　Desire　died。　I　choose　to　put　in　writing　here　what　I　absolutely　know　as　truth。　Queen　Desire　did　die　of　poisoning；　but　it　had　been　self…administered；　over　a　long　period　of　time；　and　was　none　of　her　king's　doing。　Often　he　had　tried　to　dissuade　her　from　using　intoxicants　as　freely　as　she　did。　Physicians　had　been　consulted；　as　well　as　herbalists；　but　no　sooner　had　he　persuaded　her　to　desist　from　one　than　she　discovered　another　to　try。
　　　　　　　Toward　the　end　of　the　last　summer　of　her　life；　she　became　even　more　reckless；　using　several　kinds　simultaneously　and　no　longer　making　any　attempts　to　conceal　her　habits。　Her　behaviors　were　a　great　trial　for　Shrewd；　for　when　she　was　drunk　with　wine　or　incensed　with　smoke；　she　would　make　wild　accusations　and　inflammatory　statements　with　no　heed　at　all　as　to　who　was　present　or　what　the　occasion　was。　One　would　have　thought　that　her　excesses　toward　the　end　of　her　life　would　have　disillusioned　her　followers。　To　the　contrary；　they　declared　either　that　Shrewd　had　driven　her　to　self…destruction　or　poisoned　her　himself。　But　I　can　say　with　plete　knowledge　that　her　death　was　not　of　the　King's　doing。
　　　　　　　

　　　　　　　Burrich　cut　my　hair　for　mourning。　He　left　it　only　a　finger's　width　long。　He　shaved　his　own　head；　even　his　beard　and　eyebrows；　for　his　grief。　The　pale　parts　of　his　head　contrasted　sharply　with　his　ruddy　cheeks　and　nose；　it　made　him　look　very　strange；　stranger　even　than　the　forest　men　who　came　to　town　with　their　hair　stuck　down　with　pitch　and　their　teeth　dyed　red　and　black。　Children　stared　at　those　wild　men　and　whispered　to　one　another　behind　their　hands　as　they　passed；　but　they　cringed　silently　from　Burrich。　I　think　it　was　his　eyes。　I've　seen　holes　in　a　skull　that　had　more　life　in　them　than　Burrich's　eyes　had　during　those　days。
　　　　　　　Regal　sent　a　man　to　'rebuke　Burrich　for　shaving　his　head　and　cutting　my　hair。　That　was　mourning　for　a　crowned　king；　not　for　a　man　who　had　abdicated　the　throne。　Burrich　stared　at　the　man　until　he　left。　Verity　cut　a　hand's　width　from　his　hair　and　beard；　as　that　was　mourning　for　a　brother。　Some　of　the　keep　guards　cut　varying　lengths　from　their　braided　queues；　as　a　fighting　man　does　for　a　fallen　rade。　But　what　Burrich　had　done　to　himself　and　to　me　was　extreme。　People　stared。　I　wanted　to　ask　him　why　I　should　mourn　for　a　father　I　had　never　even　seen；　for　a　father　who　had　never　e　to　see　me；　but　a　look　at　his　frozen　eyes　and　mouth　and　I　hadn't　dared。　No　one　mentioned　to　Regal　the　mourning　lock　he　cut　from　each　horse's　mane；　or　the　stinking　fire　that　consumed　all　the　sacrificial　hair。　I　had　a　sketchy　idea　that　meant　Burrich　was　sending　parts　of　our　spirits　along　with　Chivalry's；　it　was　some　custom　he　had　from　his　grandmother's　people。
　　　　　　　It　was　as　if　Burrich　had　died。　A　cold　force　animated　his　body；　performing　all　his　tasks　flawlessly　but　without　warmth　or　satisfaction。　Underlings　who　had　formerly　vied　for　the　briefest　nod　of　praise　from　him　now　turned　aside　from　his　glance；　as　if　shamed　for　him。　Only　Vixen　did　not　forsake　him。　The　old　bitch　slunk　after　him　wherever　he　went；　unrewarded　by　any　look　or　touch；　but　always　there。　I　hugged　her　once；　in　sympathy；　and　even　dared　to　quest　toward　her；　but　I　encountered　only　a　numbness　frightening　to　touch　minds　with。　She　grieved　with　her　master。
　　　　　　　The　winter　storms　cut　and　snarled　around　the　cliffs。
　　　　　　　The　days　possessed　a　lifeless　cold　that　denied　any　possibility　of　spring。　Chivalry　was　buried　at　Withywoods。　There　was　a　Grieving　Fast　at　the　keep；　but　it　was　brief　and　subdued。　It　was　more　an　observation　of　correct　form　than　a　true　Grieving。　Those　who　truly　mourned　him　seemed　to　be　judged　guilty　of　poor　taste。　His　public　life　should　have　ended　with　his　abdication；　how　tactless　of　him　to　draw　further　attention　to　himself　by　actually　dying。
　　　　　　　A　full　week　after　my　father　died　I　awoke　to　the　familiar　draft　from　the　secret　staircase　and　the　yellow　light　that　beckoned　me。　I　rose　and　hastened　up　the　stairs　to　my　refuge。　It　would　be　good　to　get　away　from　all　the　strangeness；　to　mingle　herbs　and　make　strange　smokes　with　Chade　again。　I　needed　no　more　of　the　odd　suspension　of　self　that　I'd　felt　since　I'd　heard　of　Chivalry's　death。
　　　　　　　But　the　worktable　end　of　his　chamber　was　dark；　its　hearth　was　cold。　Instead；　Chade　was　seated　before　his　own　fire。　He　beckoned　to　me　to　sit　beside　his　chair。　I　sat　and　looked　up　at　him；　but　he　was　staring　a