Assassin's Quest

My lord king … Carrod began, but SILENCE! Regal overrode him. He drew freely on Will's strength to do it. The effort cost him nothing.

I believed him dead once before, and my trust in the word of others nearly got me killed. This time I will see him, see him hacked in pieces before I rest. Will's feeble attempt to trap the Bastard into betraying himself failed miserably.

Perhaps because he is already dead, Carrod ventured foolishly.

Then I witnessed a thing I wished I had not. A needle of pain, hot and piercing, he sent to Carrod with Will's Skill. In that sending, I finally glimpsed the whole of what they had become. Regal rode Will, not like a man rides a horse, to be thrown by the horse in anger, but as a tick or a leech bites into its victim and clings and sucks life from him. Waking or asleep, Regal was with him always, had access always to his strength. And now he spent it viciously, caring nothing for what it would cost Will. I had not known pain could be inflicted with Skill alone. A numbing blast of strength such as Verity had spent upon them, that I knew. But this was different. This was no show of force or temper. This was a display of purest vindictiveness. Somewhere, I knew, Carrod fell to the floor and thrashed in wordless agony. Linked as they were, Burl and Will must have shared a shadow of that pain. It surprised me that a member of a coterie was even capable of doing that to another. But then, it was not Will who sent the pain. It was Regal.

It passed, after a time. Perhaps in reality it only lasted an instant. For Carrod, it certainly lasted long enough. I sensed from him a faint mental whimpering. He was capable of no more than that just now.

I do not believe the Bastard died. I dare not believe it until I've seen his body. Someone killed Bolt and his men. So find his body and bring it to me, whether alive or dead. Burl. Remain where you are, and redouble your efforts. I am certain he is bound that way. Let no traveler pass you unchallenged. Carrod, I think perhaps you should join Burl. An indolent life does not seem to agree with your temperament. Be on your way tomorrow. And as you travel, do not be lazy. Keep your minds upon your task. We know that Verity lives; he proved that to all of you most effectively. The Bastard will try to get to him. He must be stopped before he does so, and then my brother must be eliminated as a threat. These are the only tasks I have given you; why cannot you do them? Have you no thought for what will become of us should Verity succeed? Search for him, with Skill and men. Do not let folk forget what I have offered for his capture. Do not let them forget the punishment for aiding him. Am I understood?

Of course, my lord king. I shall spare no effort. Burl was quick to reply.

Carrod? I hear nothing from you, Carrod. The threat of punishment hung over them all.

Please, my lord king. I shall do all, everything. Alive or dead, I shall find him for you. I shall.

Without even an acknowledgment, Will and Regal's presence vanished. I felt Carrod collapse. Burl lingered a moment longer. Did he listen, did he grope back toward my presence? I let my thoughts float free, my concentration dissipate. Then I opened my eyes and lay staring at the ceiling, thinking. The Skilling had left me queasy and trembling.

I am with you, my brother, Nighteyes assured me.

And I am glad that you are. I rolled over and tried to find sleep.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN. Bolthole

IN MANY OF the old legends and tales of the Wit, it is insisted that a Wit user eventually takes on many traits of his bond-animal. Some of the most frightening tales say that eventually a Witted one becomes capable of assuming the guise of that animal. Those who know intimately of such magic have assured me it is not so. It is true that a Witted one may, without realizing it, assume some of the physical mannerisms of his bond-animal, but one bonded to an eagle will not sprout wings, nor will one bonded to a horse begin to neigh. As time goes by, a Witted one grows in understanding of the bond-beast, and the longer a human and an animal are bonded, the greater will be the similarity of their mannerisms. The bond-animal is as likely to assume the mannerisms and traits of the human as the human is to adopt those of his beast. But this only happens over a long period of intense contact.

Nik agreed with Burrich's idea of when mornings began. I awoke to the sound of his men leading the horses out. A cold wind blew in the open door. Around me in the darkness the others were stirring. One of the children was crying at being awakened so early. Her mother shushed her. Molly, I thought with sudden longing. Somewhere hushing my child.

What's this?

My mate bore a cub. Far away.

Immediate concern. But who will hunt meat to feed them? Should not we return to her?

Heart of the Pack watches over her.

Of course. I should have known that. That one knows the meaning of pack, no matter how he denies it. All is well, then.