Assassin's Fate (The Fitz and The Fool Trilogy #3)

‘You have not the darkness of heart to imagine such a thing, Fool.’ I could not stand to torment him any longer that night. ‘Go to sleep. You have told me enough. Tomorrow we take back Bee. And before we leave this city, I will kill as many of them as I can.’

‘If I sleep, I shall dream of it,’ he replied, his voice shaking. ‘They were brave, Fitz. Brave beyond any courage I have ever had. My allies, they did not stop. They helped me when they could. It was not often and it was not much. A kind word whispered as someone passed my cell. Once, some warm water on a cloth.’ He shook his head. ‘I fear they were harshly punished for those small mercies.’

‘Tomorrow, once we have Bee, I intend a different sort of “mercy” for the Four,’ I promised him.

He could not smile at my extravagant promise. ‘I fear we cannot surprise them. The sheer number of dreams and dreamers they have to consult will betray us to them. And I fear they will be very ready to take me back and resume what they began.’ He put his face into his hands. His voice was muffled by his gloved fingers. ‘They consider me a traitor,’ he confided to me. ‘And for that reason, they hate me more vividly than for any other thing I have done. I do not fear that they will capture and kill me, Fitz. I fear they will capture me and never kill me.’

I saw, not his fear, but his courage. He was terrified, but for Bee he would dare to tempt once more the powers of Clerres. I reached over, caught his cuffs and pulled his hands away from his face. Time to be honest. ‘Fool. I know what you dreamed. Not just what you told me, but all of it. And I understand your choice.’ He gave me a woeful look. ‘Paragon told me.’

He gently pulled his hands free. ‘I should have known he’d be aware of what I dreamed. I’m still surprised he told you.’

‘I think he was concerned for you. As he demonstrated the first day I met him, he is very fond of you.’

‘Did he tell you all of it?’

‘He told me enough, Fool. You are correct. If there is a choice to be made, and one of us must die, then I would rather that you went on. I have not been a good parent to Bee. I think you might do better. And you will have Riddle and Nettle to aid you in that. And Dutiful will see that you have an allowance to maintain Withy—’

He laughed harshly. ‘Oh, Fitz. That is not the choice! I do not choose between you and me living.’ A pause. He asked in a choked voice, ‘Did you truly think I would choose myself over you?’

‘It would be the sensible choice. For Bee’s sake.’

‘Oh, Fitz. No. The dreams do not even make it my choice. It is simply a divide in the possible ways the future may go.’ His voice grew tight. ‘On one, the Destroyer dies and the Unexpected Son lives. On the other, the Unexpected Son perishes. So, if it comes down to some act of mine, an act I cannot foresee, but desperately hope it will not, I will do what I must to see that Bee lives. Bee is who I will preserve, at all costs.’ His voice squeaked to a halt. Tears glinted in his sightless eyes.

‘Of course. Yes. That would be my choice as well.’

‘Knowing that still does not make me eager to confront such a decision.’

A tap at the door stopped his words and he hastily wiped his tears on his sleeve. I opened the door. ‘I’m sorry it took so long. I had to wait for the water to boil,’ Spark said. She angled sideways to carry the tray into the room, pushed aside garments and set the tray on the bunk. ‘We’ve not much left of the Kelsingra teas. What would you like?’

The Fool smiled. Spark looked at me accusingly. She knew he’d been weeping. The Fool spoke. ‘Actually, I’ve a tea I brought from Buckkeep. I’ve been saving it, but tonight I think I shall indulge myself. It has peppermint and spearmint from the Women’s Garden, and fine grated gingerroot dried to a powder. A bit of elderberry as well.’

‘Patience used to brew that for me,’ I recalled, and he smiled as he groped among his possessions and brought out a little leather pouch.

‘I got the recipe from Burrich,’ he admitted. ‘There is just enough for a pot. Dump it in.’ He handed the pouch to Spark, and she upended it into the waiting teapot. As it brewed, the fragrance of a homely time, of simple teas and simple pleasures, filled the small room. Spark poured for us and we drank tea together as if we were not going to face death the next day. The fragrance stirred old memories, and Fool told her a tale or two of how Buckkeep Castle had been, once upon a time. He spoke of his fondness for King Shrewd and the pranks Hands and I had played in the stables. Of Garetha the garden girl who had loved him from afar, and Cook Nutmeg’s wonderful bread. Of Smithy and ginger-cakes and how the Women’s Garden smelled when the summer sun struck the lavender.

Spark was reclining on her bunk and the Fool’s eyes were closed. When his voice faded to a murmur, I slipped away, closing the door softly behind me. I went to my hammock between Lant’s and Per’s. I climbed in and to my astonishment sleep came to find me.





TWENTY-SEVEN



* * *



Feather to Blade

To Merchants Clifton, Anrosen and Bellidy,

With our greatest apologies, we are unable to fulfil the terms of our contract with you. Our liveship, Kendry, has become unmanageable, and a threat to not only his own captain and crew but to other vessels we encounter. He has twice deliberately taken on water to spoil cargo. He fights the rudder and lists at will.

For the safety and security of our crew, and of your cargoes, we therefore must terminate our agreement. You have the right to bring suit against us for this breach. However, if you are willing, we have made arrangements with the liveship Ophelia, owned and managed by the Tenira family, a fine Bingtown Trader family with a long history of reliable dealings. At no additional cost to you, they will take over our contracts and fulfil them.

We hope you will agree that this is the most equitable arrangement for all of us.

With the utmost respect,

Captain Osfor of the liveship Kendry

The sun had travelled across the sky. Now it entered my cell through the bars and made stripes on the floor. I was hungry, but had probably missed the food for the evening. I tried to put together what had happened to me today. Perhaps tomorrow Capra would come, and would want to know more. If I spoke freely, would she give me the little cottage and clean clothes and good food to eat? And if she did, what then? I could not imagine spending the rest of my life here. I also couldn’t imagine ever going home. The only possibility that seemed real to me was that one or more of the Four would be displeased with me, and I’d be beaten. Or killed. Perhaps both.

Or the dreams of what I might do would come true. I felt cold as I thought of them, even though the darkening evening was still warm.