rh.royalassassin-第5节

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s；　and　the　lingering　torment　of　Forged　ones　in　our　midst　rocked　the　foundations　of　the　Six　Duchies。　Confidence　in　the　monarchy　was　low；　and　Kettricken　had　the　unenviable　position　of　being　an　unadmired　king…in…waiting's　outlandish　queen。
　　　　　　　Civil　unrest　divided　the　court　as　the　Inland　Duchies　voiced　their　resentment　at　taxes　to　protect　a　coastline　they　did　not　share。　The　Coastal　Duchies　cried　out　for　warships　and　soldiers　and　an　effective　way　to　battle　the　Raiders　that　always　struck　where　we　were　least　prepared。　Inland…bred　Prince　Regal　sought　to　gather　power　to　himself　by　courting　the　Inland　Dukes　with　gifts　and　social　attentions。　King…in…Waiting　Verity；　convinced　that　his　Skill　was　no　longer　sufficient　to　hold　the　Raiders　at　bay；　put　his　attentions　to　building　warships　to　guard　the　Coastal　Duchies；　with　little　time　for　his　new　queen。　Over　all；　King　Shrewd　crouched　like　a　great　spider；　endeavoring　to　keep　power　spread　among　himself　and　his　sons；　to　keep　all　in　balance　and　the　Six　Duchies　intact。
　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　I　awakened　to　someone　touching　my　forehead。　With　an　annoyed　grunt；　I　turned　my　head　aside　from　the　touch。　My　blankets　were　weltered　around　me；　I　fought　my　way　clear　of　their　restraint　and　then　sat　up　to　see　who　had　dared　disturb　me。　King　Shrewd's　fool　perched　anxiously　on　a　chair　beside　my　bed。　I　stared　at　him　wildly；　and　he　drew　back　from　my　look。　Uneasiness　assailed　me。
　　　　　　　The　Fool　should　have　been　back　in　Buckkeep；　with　the　King；　many　miles　and　days　from　here。　I　had　never　known　him　to　leave　the　King's　side　for　more　than　a　few　hours　or　a　night's　rest。　That　he　was　here　boded　no　good。　The　Fool　was　my　friend；　as　much　as　his　strangeness　allowed　him　to　be　friends　with　anyone。　But　a　visit　from　him　always　had　a　purpose；　and　such　purposes　were　seldom　trivial　or　pleasant。　He　looked　as　weary　as　I　had　ever　seen　him。　He　wore　an　unfamiliar　motley　of　greens　and　reds　and　carried　a　fool's　scepter　with　a　rat's　head　on　it。　The　gay　garments　contrasted　too　strongly　with　his　colorless　skin。　They　made　him　a　translucent　candle　wreathed　in　holly。　His　clothing　seemed　more　substantial　than　he　did。　His　fine　pale　hair　floated　from　the　confines　of　his　cap　like　a　drowned　man's　hair　in　seawater；　while　the　dancing　flames　of　the　fireplace　shone　in　his　eyes。　I　rubbed　my　gritty　eyes　and　pushed　some　of　the　hair　back　from　my　face。　My　hair　was　damp；　I'd　been　sweating　in　my　sleep。
　　　　　　　〃Hello；〃　I　managed。　〃I　didn't　expect　to　see　you　here。〃　My　mouth　felt　dry；　my　tongue　thick　and　sour。　I'd　been　sick；　I　recalled。　The　details　seemed　hazy。
　　　　　　　〃Where　else？〃　He　looked　at　me　woefully。　〃For　every　hour　you've　slept；　the　less　rested　you　seem。　Lie　back；　my　lord。　Let　me　make　you　fortable。〃　He　plucked　at　my　pillows　fussily；　but　I　waved　him　away。　Something　was　wrong　here。　Never　had　he　spoken　me　so　fair。　Friends　we　were；　but　the　Fool's　words　to　me　were　always　as　pithy　and　sour　as　half…ripened　fruit。　If　this　sudden　kindness　was　a　show　of　pity；　I　wanted　none　of　it。
　　　　　　　I　glanced　down　at　my　embroidered　nightshirt；　at　the　rich　bedcovers。　Something　seemed　odd　about　them。　I　was　too　tired　and　weak　to　puzzle　it　out。　〃What　are　you　doing　here？〃　I　asked　him。
　　　　　　　He　took　a　breath　and　sighed。　〃I　am　tending　you。　Watching　over　you　while　you　sleep。　I　know　you　think　it　foolish；　but　then；　I　am　the　Fool。　You　know　then　that　I　must　be　foolish。　Yet　you　ask　me　this　same　thing　every　time　you　awake。　Let　me　then　propose　something　wiser。　I　beg　you；　my　lord；　let　me　send　for　another　healer。〃
　　　　　　　I　leaned　back　against　my　pillows。　They　were　sweat　damp；　and　smelled　sour　to　me。　I　knew　I　could　ask　the　Fool　to　change　them　and　he　would。　But　I　would　just　sweat　anew　if　he　did。　It　was　useless。　I　clutched　at　my　covers　with　gnarled　fingers。　I　asked　him　bluntly；　〃Why　have　you　e　here？〃
　　　　　　　He　took　my　hand　in　his　and　patted　it。　〃My　lord；　I　mistrust　this　sudden　weakness。　You　seem　to　take　no　good　from　this　healer's　ministrations。　I　fear　that　his　knowledge　is　much　smaller　than　his　opinion　of　it。〃
　　　　　　　〃Burrich？〃　I　asked　incredulously。
　　　　　　　〃Burrich？　Would　that　he　were　here；　my　lord！　He　may　be　the　stablemaster；　but　for　all　that；　I　warrant　he　is　more　of　a　healer　than　this　Wallace　who　doses　and　sweats　you。〃
　　　　　　　〃Wallace？　Burrich　is　not　here？〃
　　　　　　　The　Fool's　face　grew　graver。　〃No；　my　king。　He　remained　in　the　Mountains；　as　well　you　know。〃
　　　　　　　〃Your　king；〃　I　said；　and　attempted　to　laugh。　〃Such　mockery。〃
　　　　　　　〃Never；　my　lord；〃　he　said　gently。　〃Never。〃
　　　　　　　His　tenderness　confused　me。　This　was　not　the　Fool　I　knew；　full　of　twisting　words　and　riddles；　of　sly　jabs　and　puns　and　cunning　insults。　I　felt　suddenly　stretched　thin　as　old　rope；　and　as　frayed。　Still；　I　tried　to　piece　things　together。　〃Then　I　am　in　Buckkeep？〃
　　　　　　　He　nodded　slowly。　〃Of　course　you　are。〃　Worry　pinched　his　mouth。
　　　　　　　I　was　silent；　plumbing　the　full　depth　of　my　betrayal。　Somehow　I　had　been　returned　to　Buckkeep。　Against　my　will。　Burrich　had　not　even　seen　fit　to　acpany　me。
　　　　　　　〃Let　me　get　you　some　food；〃　the　Fool　begged　me。　〃You　always　feel　better　after　you　have　eaten。〃　He　rose。　〃I　brought　it　up　hours　ago。　I've　kept　it　warm　by　the　hearth。〃
　　　　　　　My　eyes　followed　him　wearily。　At　the　big　hearth　he　crouched；　to　coach　a　covered　tureen　away　from　the　edge　of　the　fire。　He　lifted　the　lid　and　I　smelled　rich　beef　stew。　He　began　to　ladle　it　into　a　bowl。　It　had　been　months　since　I'd　had　beef。　In　the　Mountains；　it　was　all　venison　and　mutton　and　goat's　flesh。　My　eyes　wandered　wearily　about　the　room。　The　heavy　tapestries；　the　massive　wooden　chairs。　The　heavy　stones　of　the　fireplace；　the　richly　worked　bed　hangings。　I　knew　this　place。　This　was　the　King's　bedchamber　at　Buckkeep。　Why　was　I　here；　in　the　King's　own　bed？　I　tried　to　ask　the　Fool；　but　another　spoke　with　my　lips。　〃I　know　too　many　things；　Fool。　I　can　no　longer　stop　myself　from　knowing　them。　Sometimes　it　is　as　if　another　controlled　my　will；　and　pushed　my　mind　where　I　would　rather　it　did　not　go。　My　walls　are　breached。　It　all　pours　in　like　a　tide。〃　I　drew　a　deep　breath；　'but　I　could　not　stave　it　off。　First　a　chill　tingling；　then　as　if　I　were　immersed　in　a　swift　flowing　of　cold　water。　〃A　rising　tide；〃　I　gasped。　〃Bearing　ships。　Red…keeled　ships　。。。〃
　　　　　　　The　Fool's　eyes　widened　in　alarm。　〃In　this　season；　Your　Majesty？　Surely　not！　Not　in　winter！〃
　　　　　　　My　breath　was　pressed　tight　in　my　chest。　I　struggled　to　speak。　〃The　winter　has　crept　in　too　softly。　She　has　spared　us　both　her　storms　and　her　protection。　Look。　Look　out　there；　across　the　water。　See？　They　e。　They　e　from　the　fog。〃
　　　　　　　I　lifted　my　arm　to　point。　The　Fool　came　hastily；　to　stand　beside　me。　He　crouched　to　peer　where　I　pointed；　but　I　knew　he　could　not　see。　Still；　he　loyally　placed　a　hesitant　hand　on　my　thin　shoulder；　and　stared　as　if　he　could　will　away　the　walls　and　the　miles　that　stood　between　him　and　my　vision。　I　longed　to　be　as　blind　as　he。　I　clasped　the　long…fingered　pale　hand　that　rested　on　my　shoulder。　For　a　moment　I　looked　down　at　my　withered　hand；　at　the　royal　signet　ring　that　clung　to　a　bony　finger　behind　a　swollen　knuckle。　Then　my　reluctant　gaze　was　drawn　up　and　my　vision　taken　afar。
　　　　　　　My　pointing　hand　indicated　the　quiet　harbor。　I　struggled　to　sit　up　taller；　to　see　more。　The　darkened　town　spread　out　before　me　like　a　patchwork　of　houses　and　roads。　Fog　lay　in　hollows　and　was　thick　upon　the　bay。　Weather　change　ing；　I　thought　to　myself。　Something　stirred　in　the　air　that　chilled　me；　cooling　the　old　sweat　on　my　skin　so　that　I　shivered。　Despite　the　blackness　of　the　night　and　the　fog；　I　had　no　difficulty　in　seeing　everything　perfectly。　Skill　watching　I　told　myself；　and　then　wondered。　I　could　not　Skill；　not　predictably；　not　usefully。
　　　　　　　But　as　I　watched；　two　ships　broke　out　of　the　mists　and　emerged　into　the　sleeping　harbor。　I　forgot　what　I　could　or　could　not　do。　They　were　sleek　and　trim；　those　ships；　and　though　they　were　black　under　the　moonlight；　I　knew　their　keels　were　red。　Red…Ship　Raiders　from　the　Outislands。　The　ships　moved　like　knives　through　the　wavelets；　cutting　their　way　clear　of　the　fog；　slicing　into　the　protected　water　of　the　harbor　like　a　thin　blade　slicing　into　a　pig's　belly。　The　oars　moved　silently；　in　perfect　unison；　oarlocks　muffled　with　rags。　They　came　alongside　the　docks　as　boldly　as　honest　merchants　e　to　trade。　From　the　first　boat；　a　sailor　leaped　lightly；　carrying　a　line　to　make　fast　to　a　piling。　An　oarsman　fended　her　off　the　dock　until　the　aft　line　was　thrown　and　made　fast　as　well。　All　so　calmly；　so　blatantly。　The　second　ship　was　following　their　example。　The　dreaded　Red…Ships　had　e　into　town；　bold　as　gulls；　and　tied　up　at　their　victims　home　dock。
　　　　　　　No　sentry　cried　out。　No　watchman　blew　a　horn；　or　threw　a　torch　onto　a　waiting　heap　of　pitchpine　to　kindle　a　signal　fire。　I　looked　for　them；　and　instantly　found　them。　Heads　on　chests；　they　were　idling　at　their　posts。　Good　woolen　homespun　had　gone　from　gray　to　red　sopping　up　the　blood　of　their　slit　throats。　Their　killers　had　e　quietly；　overland；　sure　of　each　sentry　post；　to　silence　every　watcher。　No　one　would　warn　the　sleeping　town。
　　　　　　　There　had　not　been　that　many　sentries。　There　was　not　much　to　this　little　town；　scarce　enough　to　deserve　a　dot　on　the　map。　The　town　had　counted　on　the　humbleness　of　its　possessions　to