Royal Assassin

The whole Keep was astir early the next day. There was a fevered, almost festival air in the courtyard as Verity's personal guard and every warrior who had no scheduled duties that day massed for a hunt. Tracking hounds bayed restively, while the pull-down dogs with their massive jaws and barrel chests huffed excitedly and tested their restraints. Bets were already being set on who would hunt the most successfully. Horses pawed the earth, bowstrings were checked, while pages ran helter-skelter everywhere. Inside the kitchen, half the cooking staff was busy putting up packages of food for the hunters to take with them. Soldiers young and old, male and female, strutted and laughed aloud, bragging of past confrontations, comparing weapons, building spirit for the hunt. I had seen this a hundred times, before a winter hunt for elk, or bear. But now there was an edge to it, a rank smell of bloodlust on the air. I heard snatches of conversations, words that made me queasy:

"... no mercy for that dung ...", "... cowards and traitors, to dare to attack the Queen ...", "... shall pay dearly. They don't deserve a swift death ...." I ducked hastily back into the kitchen, threaded my way through an area busy as a stirred anthill. Here, too, I heard the same sorts of sentiments voiced, the same craving for revenge.

I found Verity in his map room. I could tell he had washed and dressed himself afresh this day, but he wore last night as plainly as a dirty robe. He was attired for a day inside, among his papers. I tapped lightly at the door, although it stood ajar. He sat in a chair before the fire, his back to me. He nodded, but did not look up at me as I entered. For all his stillness, there was a charged air to the room, the gathering of a storm. A tray of breakfast rested on a table beside his chair, untouched. I came and stood quietly beside him, almost certain I had been Skilled here. As the silence grew longer I wondered if Verity himself knew why. At length I decided to speak.

"My prince. You do not ride with your guard today?" I ventured.

It was as if I had opened a floodgate. He turned to look at me; the lines in his face had been graven deeper overnight. He looked haggard, sickened. "I do not. I dare not. How could I countenance such a thing, this hunting down of our own folk and kin! And yet what is my alternative? To hide and mope within the Keep walls while others go out to avenge this insult to my queen-in-waiting! I dare not forbid my men to uphold their honor. So I must behave as if I am unaware of what goes on in the courtyard. As if I am a simpleton, or a laggard, or a coward. There will be a ballad written about this day, I doubt it not. What shall it be called? `Verity's Massacre of the Witless'? Or `Queen Kettricken's Sacrifice of the Forged'?" His voice rose on every word, and before he was half-done, I had stepped to the door and shut it firmly. I looked about the room as he ranted, wondering who else besides myself was hearing these words.

"Did you sleep at all, my prince?" I asked when he had run down.

He smiled with bleak amusement. "Well you know what put an end to my first attempt at rest. My second was less ... engaging. My lady came to my chamber."

I felt my ears begin to warm. Whatever he was about to tell me, I did not want to hear it. I had no wish to know what had passed between them last night. Quarrel or amendment, I wanted to know nothing of it. Verity was merciless.

"Not weeping, as you might think she would. Not for comfort. Not to be held against night fears, or reassured of my regard. But sword stiff as a rebuked sergeant, to stand at the foot of the bed and beg my pardon for her transgressions. Whiter than chalk and hard as oak ..." His voice trailed off, as if he realized he betrayed too much of himself. "She foresaw this hunting mob, not I. She came to me in the middle of the night, asking what must we do. I had no answer for her, any more than I do now-"

"At least she foresaw this," I ventured, hoping to bring some respite from his anger for Kettricken.

"And I did not," he said heavily. "She did. Chivalry would have. Oh, Chivalry would have known it would happen from the moment she went missing, and would have had all sorts of contingency plans. But I did not. I thought only to bring her swiftly home, and hope not too many heard of it. As if such a thing could be! And so today I think to myself that if ever the crown does come to rest on my brow, it will be in a most unworthy place."