The Complete Farseer Trilogy. Robin Hobb. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Robin Hobb
Издательство: HarperCollins
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Жанр произведения: Ужасы и Мистика
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9780007531486
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betrayed her name to Kettricken. Who did Regal really want dead? Prince Rurisk? Or Lady Thyme, or I, after an assassination attempt was discovered? And how did any of it benefit him, and this marriage he had engineered? And why was he insisting I kill Rurisk, when all the political advantages were to his living?

      I needed to talk to Chade. I couldn’t. I had to somehow decide this, myself. Unless.

      Servants again brought water and fruit. I arose and dressed in my annoying clothes, and ate, and left my chambers. This day was much the same as yesterday. The holiday atmosphere was beginning to wear on me. I attempted to employ my time to advantage, enlarging my knowledge of the palace, its routines and layout. I found Eyod’s, Kettricken’s, and Rurisk’s chambers. I also carefully studied the staircase and support structures to Regal’s. I discovered that Cob slept in the stables, as did Burrich. I expected that of Burrich; he would not surrender the care of Buckkeep horses until he left Jhaampe; but why was Cob sleeping there? To impress Burrich, or to watch him? Sevren and Rowd both slept in the antechamber of Regal’s apartments, despite a plenitude of rooms in the palace. I tried to study the distribution and schedules of the guards and sentries, but couldn’t find any. And all the while I watched for August. It took me the better part of the morning before I could find him in quiet circumstance. ‘I need to talk to you. Privately,’ I told him.

      He looked annoyed, and glanced about to see if anyone were watching us. ‘Not here, Fitz. Maybe when we get back to Buckkeep. I’ve official duties, and …’

      I had been prepared for that. I opened my hand, to show him the pin the King had given me so many years ago. ‘Do you see this? I had it from King Shrewd, a long time ago. And with it, his promise that if I ever needed to speak to him, I need only show it and I would be admitted to his chambers.’

      ‘How touching,’ August observed cynically. ‘And had you some reason for telling me this story? To impress me with your importance, perhaps?’

      ‘I need to speak to the King. Now.’

      ‘He isn’t here,’ August pointed out. He turned to walk away.

      I took hold of his arm, turned him back to me.

      ‘You can Skill to him.’

      He shook me off angrily, and glanced about us again. ‘I most certainly cannot. And would not, if I could. Do you think every man who can Skill is allowed to interrupt the King?’

      ‘I have shown you the pin. I promise you, he would not regard this as an interruption.’

      ‘I cannot.’

      ‘Verity, then.’

      ‘I do not Skill to Verity until he Skills to me first. Bastard, you don’t understand. You took the training and you failed at it, and you really have not the slightest comprehension of what the Skill is about. It is not like hallooing to a friend across a valley. It is a serious thing, not to be used except for serious purposes.’ Again he turned away from me.

      ‘Turn back, August, or regret it long.’ I put every ounce of menace I could into my voice. It was an empty threat; I had no real way to make him regret it, other than threatening to tattle to the King. ‘Shrewd will not be pleased that you ignored his token.’

      August turned slowly back. He glared at me. ‘Well. I will do this thing, then, but you must promise to take all blame for it.’

      ‘I will. Will you come to my chambers, then, and Skill for me now?’

      ‘Is there no other place?’

      ‘Your chambers?’ I suggested.

      ‘No, that is even worse. Do not take it amiss, bastard, but I do not wish to seem to associate with you.’

      ‘Take it not amiss, lordling, that I feel the same about you.’

      In the end, on a stone bench, in a quiet part of Kettricken’s herb-garden, August sat down and closed his eyes. ‘What message am I to Skill to Shrewd?’

      I considered. This would be a game of riddles, if I were to keep August unaware of my true problem. ‘Tell him Prince Rurisk’s health is excellent, and we may all hope to see him live to old age. Regal still wishes to give him the gift, but I do not think it appropriate.’

      August opened his eyes. ‘The Skill is an important …’

      ‘I know. Tell him.’

      So August sat and took several breaths, and closed his eyes. After a few moments, he opened his eyes. ‘He says to listen to Regal.’

      ‘That’s all?’

      ‘He was busy. And very irritated. Now leave me alone. I fear you’ve made me a fool before my king.’

      There were a dozen witty replies I could have made to that. But I let him walk away. I wondered if he had Skilled to King Shrewd at all. I sat down on the stone bench and reflected that I had gained nothing at all, and wasted much time. The temptation came and I tried it. I closed my own eyes, breathed, focused, opened myself. Shrewd, my king.

      Nothing. No reply. I doubt that I Skilled at all. I rose and went back into the palace.

      Again that day, at noon, Kettricken ascended the dais alone. Her words today were just as simple, as she announced that she was binding herself to the people of the Six Duchies. From this moment hence, she was their Sacrifice, in all things, for any reason that they commanded of her. And then she thanked her own people, blood of her blood, who had raised her and treated her well, and reminded them she did not change her allegiance out of any lack of affection for them, but only in the hopes that it would benefit both peoples. Again the silence held as she descended the steps. Tomorrow would be her day to pledge herself to Verity as a woman to a man. From what I understood, Regal and August would stand beside her tomorrow in Verity’s stead, and August would Skill that Verity might see his bride make her pledge to him.

      The day dragged for me. Jonqui came and took me to visit the Blue Fountains. I did my best to be interested and pleasant. We returned to the palace for more minstrels and feasting and that evening’s displays of arts by the mountain people. Jugglers and acrobats performed, and dogs did tricks and swordsmen displayed their prowess in staged bouts. Bluesmoke was very much in evidence, and many were indulging, swinging their tiny censers before them as they milled about and talked to one another. I understood that for them, it was like a carris seed cake, a holiday indulgement, but I avoided the trailing smoke of the burn-pots. I had to keep a clear head. Chade had supplied me with a potion to clear the head of wine fumes, but I had and knew of none for smoke. And I was unused to smoke. I found a clearer corner and stood apparently enraptured by a minstrel’s song, but watching Regal over his shoulder.

      Regal sat at a table, flanked by two brass burners. A very reserved August sat a slight way away from him. From time to time they spoke, August seriously, the prince dismissively. I was not close enough to hear the words, but I saw my name and Skill from August’s lips. I saw Kettricken approach Regal, and noted that she avoided being in the direct draught of the smoke. Regal spoke long to her, smiling and languid, and reached once to tap her hand and the silver rings she wore. He seemed to be one of those that the smoke made talkative and boastful. She seemed to teeter like a bird on a branch, now drawing closer to him and smiling, now drawing back and becoming more formal. Then Rurisk came, to stand behind his sister. He spoke to Regal briefly, and then took Kettricken’s arm and drew her away. Sevrens appeared and replenished Regal’s burners. Regal gave a foolish smile of thanks and said something, indicating the whole hall with a wave of his hand. Sevrens laughed, and left. Shortly afterward, Cob and Rowd arrived to speak to Regal. August rose and stalked indignantly off. Regal glared, and sent Cob to fetch him back. August came, but not graciously. Regal rebuked, and August glowered, then lowered his eyes and conceded. I wished desperately that I were close enough to hear what was said. Something, I felt, was definitely afoot. It might be nothing to do with me and my task. But somehow I doubted it.

      I went over my meagre store of facts, feeling sure I was missing the significance of something. But I also wondered if I were not deceiving myself. Perhaps I was over-reacting to everything.