Royal Assassin

I went down to the stables. It had always been a soothing place for me, and with Burrich gone I felt a certain obligation to look in on it from time to time. Not that Hands had shown any signs of needing my help. But this time as I approached the stable doors, there was a knot of men outside them, and voices raised in anger. A young stable boy hung on to the headstall of an immense draft horse. An older boy was tugging at a lead attached to the horse's halter, attempting to take the horse from the boy, as a man in Tilth colors looked on. The usually placid animal was becoming distressed at the tugging. In a moment someone was going to get hurt.

I stepped boldly into the midst of it, plucking the lead from the startled boy's hand even as I quested soothingly toward the horse. He did not know me as well as he once had, but he calmed at the touch. "What goes on here?" I asked the stable boy.

"They came and took Cliff out of his stall. Without even asking. He's my horse to take care of each day. But they didn't even tell me what they were doing."

"I have orders-" began the man who had been standing by.

"I am speaking to someone," I informed him, and turned back to the boy. "Has Hands left orders with you about this horse?"

"Only the usual ones." The boy had been close to tears when I first came on the struggle. Now that he had a potential ally, his voice was firming. He stood up straighter and met my eyes.

"Then it's simple. We take the horse back to his stall until we have other orders from Hands. No horse moves from the Buckkeep stable without the knowledge of the acting stablemaster." The boy had never let go his grip on Cliff's headstall. Now I placed the lead rope in his hands.

"Exactly what I thought, sir," he told me chippily. He turned on his heel. "Thank you, sir. Come on, Cliffie." The boy marched off with the big horse lumbering placidly after him.

"I have orders to take that animal. Duke Ram of Tilth wishes him sent up the river immediately." The man in Tilth colors was breathing through his nose at me.

"He does, does he? And has he cleared that with our stablemaster?" I was sure he had not.

"What goes on here?" This was Hands come running, very pink about the ears and cheeks. On another man it might have looked funny. I knew it meant he was angry.

The Tilth man drew himself up straight. "This man, and one of your stable hands, interfered when we came to get our stock from the stables!" he declared haughtily.

"Cliff isn't Tilth stock. He was foaled right here at Buckkeep. Six years ago. I was present at the time," I pointed out.

The man gave me a condescending look. "I was not speaking to you. I was speaking to him." He jerked a thumb at Hands.

"I have a name, sir," Hands pointed out coldly. "Hands. I'm acting as stablemaster while Burrich is gone with king-in-waiting Verity. He has a name, too. FitzChivalry. He assists me from time to time. He belongs in my stable. As does my stable boy, and my horse. As to you, if you have a name, I haven't been told it. I know of no reason why you should be in my stable."

Burrich had taught Hands well. We exchanged a glance. In accord, we turned our backs and began to go back into the stables.

"I am Lance, a stable man for Duke Ram. That horse was sold to my duke. And not just him. Two spotted mares, and a gelding as well. I have the papers here."

As we turned back slowly the Tilth man proffered a scroll. My heart lurched at the sight of a blob of red wax with the buck sign mashed into it. It looked real. Hands took it slowly. He gave me a sideways glance, and I moved to stand beside him. He had some letters, but reading was usually a lengthy business for him. Burrich had been working on it with him, but letters did not come easily to him. I looked over his shoulder as he unrolled the scroll and began to study it.

"It's quite clear," said the Tilth man. He reached for the scroll. "Shall I read it to you?"

"Don't bother," I told him as Hands rerolled the scroll. "What's written there is as plain as what's not. Prince Regal has signed it. But Cliff is not his horse. He, and the mares and gelding, are Buckkeep horses. Only the King may sell them."

"King-in-Waiting Verity is away. Prince Regal acts in his stead now."

I put a restraining hand on Hands's shoulder. "King-in-Waiting Verity is indeed away. But King Shrewd is not. Nor is Queen-in-Waiting Kettricken. One of those must sign to sell a horse from Buckkeep stable."

Lance snatched his scroll back, examined the signature for himself. "Well, Prince Regal's mark should be good enough for you, with Verity away. After all, everyone knows the old King is not in his right mind most of the time. And Kettricken is, well ... not of the family. Really. So, with Verity gone, Regal is-"

"Prince." I spoke the word crisply. "To say less of him would be treason. As it would be to say he were king. Or queen. When he is not."