rh.theassassinsapprentice-第74节
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〃Probably by then our troubles with the Red…Ships will long be over。 Verity will be free to turn his mind to other things。〃
〃Probably；〃 King Shrewd agreed quietly。 His eyes finally met mine。 〃When Verity goes to claim his bride； you will go with him；〃 he said again。 〃You understand what your duties will be？ I trust to your discretion。〃
I inclined my head to him。 〃As you wish； my king。〃
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Journey
TO SPEAK OF THE Mountain Kingdom as a kingdom is to start out with a basic misunderstanding of the area and the folk who people it。 It is equally inaccurate to refer to the region as Chyurda； although the Chyurda do make up the dominant folk there。 Rather than one stretch of united countryside； the Mountain Kingdom consists of various hamlets clinging to the mountainsides； of small vales of arable land； of trading hamlets sprung up along the rough roads that lead to the passes； and clans of nomadic herders and hunters who range the inhospitable countryside in between。 Such a diverse people are unlikely to unite； for their interests are often in conflict。 Strangely； though； the only force more powerful than each group's independence and insular ways is the loyalty they bear to the 〃King〃 of the mountain folk。
Traditions tell us that this line was begun by a prophet…judge； a woman who was not only wise； but also a philosopher who founded a theory of ruling whose keystone is that the leader is the ultimate servant of the people； and must be totally selfless in that regard。 There was no definite time when the judge became the King； rather it was a gradual transition； as ward of the fairness and wisdom of the holy one at Jhaampe spread。 As more and more folk sought counsel there； willing to be bound by the decision of the Judge； it was only natural that the laws of that settlement came to be respected throughout the mountains； and that more and more folk adopted Jhaampe laws as their own。 And so judges became Kings； but； amazingly； retained their self…imposed decree of servitude and self…sacrifice for their people。 The Jhaampe tradition is rife with tales of Kings and Queens who sacrificed themselves for their folk； in every conceivable way； from fending wild animals off shepherd children to offering themselves as hostages in times of feud。
Tales have been told that make the mountain folk out to be harsh； almost savage。 In truth； the land they dwell in is unpromising； and their laws mirror this condition。 It is true that badly formed infants are exposed or； more monly； drowned or drugged to death。 The elderly often choose Sequestering； a self…imposed exile where cold and starvation end all infirmities。 A man who breaks his word may have his tongue notched as well as having to surrender double the value of his original bargain。 Such customs may seem quaintly barbaric to those in the more settled of the Six Duchies； but they are peculiarly suited to the world of the Mountain Kingdom。
In the end； Verity had his way。 There was no sweetness in the triumph for him； I am sure； for his own stubborn insistence was backed by a sudden increase in the frequency of the raids。 In the space of a month； two villages were burned； and had a total of thirty…two inhabitants taken for Forging。 Nineteen of them apparently carried the now popular poison vials and chose to mit suicide。 A third town； a more populous one； was successfully defended； not by the royal troops； but by a mercenary militia the townsfolk had organized and hired themselves。 Many of the fighters； ironically； were immigrant Outislanders； using one of the few skills they had。 And the mutterings against the King's apparent inactivity increased。
It did little good to try to explain to them about Verity and the coterie's work。 What the people needed and wanted were warships of their own； defending the coastline。 But ships take time to build； and the converted merchant ships that were already in the water were tubby； wallowing things pared with the sleek Red…Ships that harassed us。 Promises of warships by spring were small fort to farmers and herders trying to protect this year's crops and flocks。 And the landlocked Duchies were being more and more vociferous about paying heavier taxes to build warships to protect a coastline they didn't share。 For their part； the leaders of the Coastal Duchies sarcastically wondered how well the inland folk would do without their seaports and trading vessels to outlet their goods。 During at least one High Council meeting； there was a noisy altercation in which Duke Ram of Tilth suggested that it would be little loss to cede the Near Islands and Fur Point to the Red…Ships if that would slacken their raiding； and Duke Brawndy of Bearns retaliated by threatening to stop all trade traffic along the Bear River and see if Tilth found that as small a loss。 King Shrewd managed to bring the council to adjournment before they came to blows； but not before the Farrow Duke had made it clear that he sided with Tilth。 The lines of division were being made more sharp with each passing month and each allotment of taxes。 Clearly something was needed to rebuild the kingdom's unity； and Shrewd was convinced it was a royal marriage。
So Regal danced his diplomatic steps； and it was arranged that the Princess Kettricken would make her pledges to Regal in his brother's stead； with all of her own folk to witness； and Verity's word would be given by his brother。 With a second ceremony to follow； of course； at Buckkeep； with suitable representatives from Kettricken's folk to witness it。 And for the nonce； Regal remained in the Mountain Kingdom's capital at Jhaampe。 His presence there created a regular flow of emissaries； gifts； and supplies between Buckkeep and Jhaampe。 Seldom did a week pass without a cavalcade either leaving or arriving。 It kept Buckkeep in a constant stir。
It seemed to me an awkward and ungainly way to assemble a marriage。 Each would be wed almost a month before glimpsing the other。 But the political expedients were more important than the feelings of the principals； and the separate celebrations were planned。
I had long since recovered from Verity tapping my strength。 It was taking me longer to grasp pletely what Galen's misting of my mind had done to me。 I believe I would have confronted him； despite Verity's counsel； except that Galen had left Buckkeep。 He had departed in pany of a cavalcade bound for Jhaampe； to ride with them as far as Farrow； where he had relatives he wished to visit。 By the time he returned； I myself would be on my way to Jhaampe； so Galen remained out of my reach。
Again； I had too much time on my hands。 I still tended Leon； but he did not take more than an hour or two of my time each day。 I had been able to discover nothing more about the attack on Burrich； nor did Burrich show any signs of relenting on my ostracism。 I had made one jaunt into Buckkeep Town； but when I chanced to wander by the chandlery； it was shuttered and silent。 My inquiries at the shop next door brought me the information that the chandlery had been closed for ten days or more； and that unless I wished to buy some leather harness； I could go elsewhere and stop bothering him。 I thought of the young man I had last seen with Molly； and bitterly wished them no good of each other。
For no other reason than that I was lonely； I decided to seek out the Fool。 Never before had I tried to initiate a meeting with him。 He proved more elusive than I had ever imagined。
After a few hours of randomly wandering the keep； hoping to encounter him； I made brave enough to go to his chamber。 I had known for years where it was； but had never gone there before； and not simply because it was in an out…of…the…way part of the keep。 The Fool did not invite intimacy； except of the kind he chose to offer； and only when he chose to offer it。 His chambers were a tower…top room。 Fedwren had told me that it had once been a map room and had offered an unobstructed view of the land surrounding Buckkeep。 But later additions to Buckkeep had blocked the views； and higher towers supplanted it。 It had outlived its usefulness for anything； save chambers for a fool。
I climbed to it； that one day toward the beginning of harvest time。 It was already a hot and sticky day。 The tower was a closed one； save for arrow slits that did little more than illuminate the dust motes my feet set to dancing in the still air。 At first the darkness of the tower had seemed cooler than the stuffy day outside； but as I climbed； it seemed to get hotter and more close； so that by the time I reached the last landing； I felt as if there were no air left to breathe at all。 I lifted a weary fist and pounded on the stout door。 〃It's me； Fitz！〃 I called； but the still hot air muffled my voice like a wet blanket smothering a flame。
Shall I use that as an excuse？ Shall I say I thought perhaps he could not hear me； and so I went in to see if he was there？ Or shall I say that I was so hot and thirsty that I entered to see if his chambers offered any hint of air or water？ Why doesn't matter； I suppose。 I put my hand to the door latch； and it lifted and I went inside。
〃Fool？〃 I call
