rh.royalassassin-第120节

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　　　　　　　A　terrible　sick　feeling　rose　in　me。　〃What　are　you　trying　to　tell　me？〃　I　whispered。
　　　　　　　The　Fool　whirled　at　the　pain　in　my　voice。　〃No。　No！　You　mistake　me　entirely！〃　There　was　sincerity　in　his　voice；　and　for　an　instant　I　could　see　my　friend　again。　〃But；〃　he　continued　in　a　softer；　almost　sly　tone；　〃if　you　believed　the　King　had　killed　your　mother；　your　much…cherished；　loving；　indulgent　mother；　had　killed　her　and　snatched　her　forever　away　from　you。　Do　you　think　you　might　then　kill　him？〃
　　　　　　　I　had　been　blind　for　so　long　that　it　took　me　a　moment　to　understand　him。　I　knew　Regal　believed　his　mother　had　been　poisoned。　I　knew　it　was　one　source　of　his　hatred　for　me；　and　for　〃Lady　Thyme。〃　He　believed　we　had　carried　out　the　killing。　At　the　behest　of　the　King。　I　knew　it　all　to　be　false。　Queen　Desire　had　poisoned　herself。　Regal's　mother　had　been　overly　fond　of　both　drink　and　those　herbs　that　bring　surcease　from　worry。　When　she　had　not　been　able　to　rise　to　the　power　she　believed　was　her　right；　she　had　taken　refuge　in　those　pleasures。　Shrewd　had　tried　several　times　to　stop　her；　had　even　applied　to　Chade　for　herbs　and　potions　that　would　end　her　cravings。　Nothing　had　worked。　Queen　Desire　had　been　poisoned；　it　was　true；　but　it　was　her　own　self…indulgent　hand　that　had　administered　it。　I　had　always　known　that。　And　knowing　it；　I　had　discounted　the　hate　that　would　breed　in　the　heart　of　a　coddled　son；　suddenly　bereft　of　his　mother。
　　　　　　　Could　Regal　kill　over　such　a　thing？　Of　course　he　could。　Would　he　be　willing　to　bring　the　Six　Duchies　to　the　teetering　edge　of　ruin　as　an　act　of　vengeance？　Why　not？　He　had　never　cared　for　the　Coastal　Duchies。　The　Inland　Duchies；　always　more　loyal　to　his　inland　mother；　were　where　his　heart　was。　If　Queen　Desire　had　not　wed　King　Shrewd；　she　would　have　remained　Duchess　of　Farrow。　Sometimes；　when　in　her　cups　and　heady　with　herbal　intoxicants；　she　would　ruthlessly　suggest　that　if　she　had　remained　as　Duchess；　she　would　have　been　able　to　wield　more　power；　enough　to　persuade　Farrow　and　Tilth　to　unite　under　her　as　queen　and　shrug　off　their　allegiance　to　the　Six　Duchies。　Galen；　the　Skill　Master；　Queen　Desire's　own　bastard　son；　had　nurtured　Regal's　hatred　along　with　his　own。　Had　he　hated　enough　to　subvert　his　coterie　to　Regal's　revenge？
　　　　　　　To　me　it　seemed　a　staggering　treason；　but　I　found　myself　accepting　it。　He　would。　Hundreds　of　folk　slain；　scores　Forged；　women　raped；　children　orphaned；　entire　villages　destroyed　for　the　sake　of　a　Princeling's　vengeance　over　an　imagined　wrong。　It　staggered　me。　But　it　fit。　It　fit　as　snug　as　a　coffin　lid。
　　　　　　　〃I　think　perhaps　the　present　Duke　of　Farrow　should　have　a　care　for　his　health；〃　I　mused。
　　　　　　　〃He　shares　his　older　sister's　fondness　for　fine　wine　and　intoxicants。　Well　supplied　with　these；　and　careless　of　all　else；　I　suspect　he　will　live　a　long　life。〃
　　　　　　　〃As　perhaps　King　Shrewd　might？〃　I　ventured　carefully。
　　　　　　　A　spasm　of　pain　twitched　across　the　Fool's　face。　〃I　doubt　that　a　long　life　is　left　to　him；〃　he　said　quietly。　〃But　what　is　left　might　be　an　easy　one；　rather　than　one　of　bloodshed　and　violence。〃
　　　　　　　〃You　think　it　will　e　to　that？〃
　　　　　　　〃Who　knows　what　will　swirl　up　front　the　bottom　of　a　stirred　kettle？〃　He　went　suddenly　to　my　door；　and　set　his　hand　to　the　latch。　〃That　is　what　I　ask　you；〃　he　said　quietly。　〃To　forgo　your　twirling；　Sir　Spoon。　To　let　things　settle。〃
　　　　　　　〃I　cannot。〃
　　　　　　　He　pressed　his　forehead　to　the　door；　a　most　un…Fool…like　gesture。　〃Then　you　shall　be　the　death　of　kings。〃　Grieved　words　in　a　low　voice。　〃You　know　。。。　what　I　am。　I　have　told　you。　I　have　told　you　why　I　am　here。　This　is　one　thing　of　which　I　am　sure。　The　end　of　the　Farseer　line　was　one　of　the　turning　points。　Kettricken　carries　an　heir。　The　line　will　continue。　That　is　what　was　needed。　Cannot　an　old　man　be　left　to　die　in　peace？〃
　　　　　　　〃Regal　will　not　let　that　heir　be　born；〃　I　said　bluntly。　Even　the　Fool　widened　his　eyes　to　hear　me　speak　so　plain。　〃That　child　will　not　e　to　power　without　a　King's　hand　to　shelter　under。　Shrewd；　or　Verity。　You　do　not　believe　Verity　is　dead。　You　have　as　much　as　said　so。　Can　you　let　Kettricken　endure　the　torment　of　believing　it　is　so？　Can　you　let　the　Six　Duchies　go　down　in　blood　and　ruin？　What　good　is　an　heir　to　the　Farseer　throne；　if　the　throne　is　but　a　broken　chair　in　a　burned…out　hall？〃
　　　　　　　The　Fool's　shoulders　slumped。　〃There　are　a　thousand　crossroads；〃　he　said　quietly。　〃Some　clear　and　bold；　some　shadows　within　shadows。　Some　are　nigh　onto　certainties；　it　would　take　a　great　army　or　a　vast　plague　to　change　those　paths。　Others　are　shrouded　in　fog；　and　I　do　not　know　what　roads　lead　out　of　them；　or　to　where。　You　fog　me；　bastard。　You　multiply　the　fixtures　a　thousandfold；　just　by　your　existing。　Catalyst。　From　some　of　those　fogs　go　the　blackest；　twisted　threads　of　damnation；　and　from　others　shining　twines　of　gold。　To　the　depths　or　the　heights；　it　seems；　are　your　paths。　I　long　for　a　middle　path。　I　long　for　a　simple　death　for　a　master　who　was　kind　to　a　freakish；　jeering　servant。〃
　　　　　　　He　made　no　more　rebuke　than　that。　He　lifted　the　latches　and　undid　the　bolts　and　left　quietly。　The　rich　clothing　and　careful　walk　made　him　appear　deformed　to　me；　as　his　motley　and　capers　never　had。　I　closed　the　door　softly　behind　him　and　then　stood　leaning　against　it　as　if　I　could　hold　the　fixture　out。
　　　　　　　I　prepared　myself　most　carefully　for　dinner　that　evening。　When　I　was　finally　dressed　in　Mistress　Hasty's　latest　set　of　clothes　for　me；　I　looked　almost　as　fine　as　the　Fool。　I　had　decided　that　as　yet　I　would　not　mourn　Verity；　nor　even　give　the　appearance　of　mourning。　As　I　descended　the　stairs　it　seemed　to　me　that　most　of　the　Keep　was　converging　on　the　Great　Hall　this　evening。　Evidently　all　had　been　summoned　to　attend；　grand　folk　and　humble。
　　　　　　　I　found　myself　seated　at　a　table　with　Burrich　and　Hands　and　other　of　the　stable　folk。　It　was　as　humble　a　spot　as　I　had　ever　been　given　since　King　Shrewd　had　taken　me　under　his　wing；　and　yet　the　pany　was　more　to　my　liking　than　that　of　the　higher　tables。　For　the　honored　tables　of　the　Great　Hall　were　packed　with　folk　little　known　to　me；　the　Dukes　and　visiting　nobility　of　Tilth　and　Farrow　for　the　most　part。　There　were　a　scattering　of　faces　I　knew；　of　course。　Patience　was　seated　as　almost　befit　her　rank；　and　Lacey　was　actually　seated　at　a　table　above　me。　I　saw　no　sign　of　Molly　anywhere。　There　were　a　scattering　of　folk　from　Buckkeep　Town；　most　of　them　the　well…to…do；　and　most　of　them　seated　more　favorably　than　I　would　have　expected。　The　King　was　ushered　in；　leaning　on　the　newly　elegant　Fool；　followed　by　Kettricken。
　　　　　　　Her　appearance　shocked　me。　She　wore　a　simple　robe　of　drab　brown；　and　she　had　cut　her　hair　for　mourning。　She　had　left　herself　less　than　a　hand's　width　of　hair；　and　bereft　of　its　rich　weight；　it　stuck　out　about　her　head　like　a　dandelion　gone　to　seed。　Its　color　seemed　to　have　been　cut　away　with　its　length；　leaving　it　as　pale　as　the　Fool's。　So　accustomed　had　I　been　to　seeing　the　heavy　gold　braids　of　her　hair　that　her　head　now　appeared　oddly　small　atop　her　wide　shoulders。　Her　pale　blue　eyes　were　made　strange　by　eyelids　reddened　by　weeping。　She　did　not　look　like　a　mourning　Queen。　Rather　she　appeared　bizarre；　a　new　kind　of　fool　for　the　court。　I　could　see　nothing　of　my　queen；　nothing　of　Kettricken　in　her　garden；　nothing　of　the　barefoot　warrior　dancing　with　her　blade；　only　a　foreign　woman；　newly　alone　here。　Regal；　in　contrast；　was　as　lavishly　clothed　as　if　to　go　a…courting；　and　moved　as　surely　as　a　hunting　cat。
　　　　　　　What　I　witnessed　that　evening　was　as　cleverly　paced　and　carefully　led　as　a　puppet　play。　There　was　old　King　Shrewd；　doddering　and　thin；　nodding　off　over　his　dinner；　or　making　vague　and　smiling　conversation　to　no　one　in　particular。　There　was　the　Queen…in…Waiting；　unsmiling；　barely　eating；　silent　and　mourning。　Presiding　over　it　all　was　Regal；　the　dutiful　son　seated　next　to　the　failing　father；　and　beside　him　the　Fool；　magnificently　clad　and　punctuating　Regal's　conversation　with　witticisms　to　make　the　Prince's　conversation　more　sparkling　than　it　truly　was。　The　rest　of　the　High　Table　was　the　Duke　and　Duchess　of　Farrow；　and　the　Duke　and　Duchess　of　Tilth；　and　their　current　favorites　among　the　lesser　nobility　of　those　duchies。　Bearns；　Rippon；　and　Shoaks　Duchies　were　not　represented　at　all。
　　　　　　　Following　the　meat；　two　toasts　were　offered　to　Regal。　The　first　came　from　Duke　Holder　of　Farrow。　He　toasted　the　Prince　lavishly；　declaring　him　the　defender　of　the　realm；　praising　his　swift　action　on　behalf　of　Neatbay；　and　lauding　also　his　courage　in　taking　the　measures　necessary　for　the　best　interests　of　the　Six　Duchies。　That　made　me　prick　up　my　ears。　But　it　was　all　a　bit　vague；　congratulating　and　praising；　but　never　quite　laying　out　exactly　what　Regal　had　decided　to　do。　Had　it　gone　on　any　longer；　it　would　have　been　suitable　as　a　eulogy。
　　　　　　　Early　into　the　speech；　Kettricken　had　sat　up　straighter　and　looked　incredulously　at　Regal；　obviously　unable　to　believe　that　he　would　quietly　nod　and　smile　to　praises　not　his　due。　If　anyone　besides　myself　noticed　the　Queen's　expression；　none　mented　on　it。　The　second　toast；　predictably；　came　from　Duke　Ram　of　Tilth。　He　offered　a　toast　to　the　memory　of　King…in…Waiting　Verity。　Thi