Rurisk came, seeking me out, to see how I did. I assured him I was fully recovered, though in truth I longed to be sleeping. The clothing Mistress Hasty had decreed for me was of the latest court fashion and featured highly inconvenient sleeves and tassles that fell into anything I tried to do or eat, and an uncomfortably snug waist. I longed to be out of the press of people, where I could loosen some laces and get rid of the collar, but knew that if I left now, Chade would frown when I reported to him, and demand that I somehow know all that had happened while I was absent. Rurisk, I think, sensed my need for a bit of quiet, for he suddenly proposed a stroll out to his kennels. ‘Let me show you what the addition of some Six Duchies blood a few years back did for my dogs,’ he offered.
We left the palace, and walked down a short way to a long, low wooden building. The clean air cleared my head and lifted my spirits. Inside, he showed me a pen where a bitch presided over a litter of red pups. They were healthy little creatures, glossy of coat, nipping and tumbling about in the straw. They came readily, totally unafraid of us. ‘These are of Buckkeep lineage, and will hold to a scent even in a downpour,’ he told me proudly. He showed me other breeds as well, including a tiny dog with wiry legs, which, he claimed, would clamber right up a tree after game.
We emerged from his kennels and out into the sun, where an older dog slept lazily on a pile of straw. ‘Sleep on, old man. You’ve fathered enough pups that you never need hunt again, except you love it so,’ Rurisk told him genially. At his master’s voice, the old hound heaved himself to his feet and came to lean affectionately on Rurisk. He looked up at me, and it was Nosy.
I stared at him, and his copper ore eyes returned the look. I quested softly toward him, and for a moment received only puzzlement. And then a flood of warmth, of affection shared and remembered. There was no doubt that he was Rurisk’s hound now; the intensity of the bond that had been between us was gone. But he offered me back great fondness and warm memories of when we were puppies together. I went down on one knee, and stroked the red coat gone all bristly with the years, and looked into the eyes that were beginning to show the clouding of age. For an instant, with the physical touch, the bond was as it had been. I knew he was enjoying dozing in the sun, but could be persuaded to go hunting with very little trouble. Especially if Rurisk came along. I patted his back, and drew away from him. I looked up to find Rurisk regarding me strangely. ‘I knew him when he was just a puppy,’ I told him.
‘Burrich sent him to me, in care of a wandering scribe, many years ago,’ Rurisk told me. ‘He has brought me great pleasure, in company and in hunting.’
‘You have done well by him,’ I said. We left and strolled back to the palace, but as soon as Rurisk left my side, I went straight to Burrich. As I came up, he had just received permission to take the horses outside and into the open air, for even the calmest beast will grow restive in close quarters with many strangers. I could see his dilemma; while he was taking horses out, he would be leaving the others untended. He looked up warily as I approached.
‘With your leave, I will help you move them,’ I offered.
Burrich’s face remained impassive and polite. But before he could open his mouth to speak, a voice behind me said, ‘I am here to do that, master. You might soil your sleeves, or overly weary yourself working with beasts.’ I turned slowly, baffled by the venom in Cob’s voice. I glanced from him to Burrich, but Burrich did not speak. I looked squarely at Burrich.
‘Then I will walk alongside you, if I may, for I have something important we must speak of.’ My words were deliberately formal. For a moment longer Burrich gazed at me. ‘Bring the Princess’s mare,’ he said at last, ‘and that bay filly. I will take the greys. Cob, mind the rest for me. I shan’t be long.’
And so I took the mare’s head and the filly’s lead-rope, and followed Burrich as he edged the horses through the crowd and out of doors. ‘There is a paddock, this way,’ he said, and no more. We walked for a bit in silence. The crowd thinned rapidly once we were away from the palace. The horses’ hooves thudded pleasantly against the earth. We came to the paddock, which fronted on a small barn with a tack room. For a moment or two, it almost seemed normal to be working alongside Burrich again. I unsaddled the mare, and wiped the nervous sweat from her while he shook out grain into a grain box for them. He came to stand beside me as I finished with the mare. ‘She’s a beauty,’ I said admiringly. ‘From Lord Ranger’s stock?’
‘Yes.’ His word cut off the conversation. ‘You wished to speak to me.’
I took a great breath, then said it simply. ‘I just saw Nosy. He’s fine. Older now, but he’s had a happy life. All these years, Burrich, I always believed you killed him that night. Dashed out his brains, cut his throat, strangled him – I imagined it a dozen different ways, a thousand times. All those years.’
He looked at me incredulously. ‘You believed I would kill a dog for something you did?’
‘I only knew he was gone. I could imagine nothing else. I thought it was my punishment.’
For a long time he was still. When he looked back up at me, I could see his torment. ‘How you must have hated me.’
‘And feared you.’
‘All those years? And you never learned better of me, never thought to yourself, “He would not do such a thing”?’
I shook my head slowly.
‘Oh, Fitz,’ he said sadly. One of the horses came to nudge at him, and he petted it absently. ‘I thought you were stubborn and sullen. You thought you had been grievously wronged. No wonder we have been so much at odds.’
‘It can be undone,’ I offered quietly. ‘I have missed you, you know. Missed you sorely, despite all our differences.’
I watched him thinking, and for a moment or two, I thought he would smile and clap me on the shoulder and tell me to go fetch the other horses. But his face grew still, and then stern. ‘But for all that, it did not stop you. You believed I had it in me to kill any animal you used the Wit on. But it did not stop you from doing it.’
‘I don’t see it the way you do,’ I began, but he shook his head.
‘We are better parted, boy. Better for both of us. There can be no misunderstandings if there are no understandings at all. I can never approve, or ignore, what you do. Never. Come to me when you can say you will do it no more. I will take your word on it, for you’ve never broken your word to me. But until then, we are better parted.’
He left me standing by the paddock and went back for his other horses. I stood a long time, feeling sick and weary, and not just from Kettricken’s poison. But I went back into the palace, walked about, spoke to people and ate, and even endured with silence the mocking, triumphant smiles Cob gave me.
The day seemed longer than any two days in my previous experience. Had not it been for my burning and gurgling stomach, I would have found it exciting and absorbing. The afternoon and early evening were given over to congenial contests of archery, wrestling and foot-races. Young and old, male and female, joined in these contests, and there seemed to be some mountain tradition that whoever won on such an auspicious occasion would enjoy luck for a full turn of a year. Then there was more food, and singing, and dancing of dancers, and an entertainment, like a puppet show, but done all with shadows on a screen of silk. By the time folk began to retire, I was more than ready for my bed. It was a relief to close my chamber screen and be alone. I was just pulling off my annoying shirt, and reflecting on what a strange day it had been when there was a tap at my door.
Before I could speak, Sevrens slid open the screen and slipped in. ‘Regal commands your presence,’ he told me.
‘Now?’ I asked owlishly.
‘Why else would he send me now?’ Sevrens demanded.
Wearily