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

‘Go look again. I may have missed something.’ I went to help Spark with the lock.

But as I stood behind her, she gave me an annoyed glance. ‘I can do this,’ she breathed, and I let her. I knew a moment of terrible guilt. Lant had followed me up the steps. My eyes met his over the girl’s bent head as she worked with her picks. I would not waste words telling him to protect her, to protect them all at any cost. He knew. I could see in his eyes that he was as troubled as I about what we might face. The Fool had stirred the hornets’ nest, but Symphe’s death was not his doing. Accident, disease or murder?

‘I’ve got it,’ she whispered at almost the same moment that Per came up the steps to gesture that his search had been fruitless. The ‘snick’ of the lock surrendering seemed very loud. I held my breath and listened. Nothing from beyond the door. Time to go.

I glanced at Lant. He shook his head, his lips folded tight. He would not be left behind. Per refused to look at me, but his knife was drawn. I touched Spark’s wrist, and wagged a finger toward the Fool. ‘Protect him,’ I mouthed, and was relieved when she ghosted down the stone steps to stand beside him. He looked up at us, his pale features indistinct in the dimness.

I eased the door open and motioned the others to wait as I ventured out alone. Several pot-lamps burned, giving light to the central area of a chamber much larger than the one below. The Fool’s horrific tales were made real. There were the tables with their dangling manacles and blade-scarred surfaces. Elevated benches surrounded them on three sides. Comfortable seating for the voyeurs of the torturers’ work. A pit for a fire. Beside it, a meticulously tidy rack. Pokers and pincers, knives and saws and other tools I had no names for. I had never understood the hearts of such people. Who could find amusement and arousal in the pain of another? Evidently here it was popular enough to draw an audience.

It was a large room. Along one wall there were barred cell fronts. Along another more steps ascended. I had a terrifying hope; if Bee was here we could break her free and get her out before the tide’s turn filled the waste chute with water. It would be difficult to wade out against the incoming tide, but not impossible.

I moved swiftly and silently. There were no guards and while my Wit warned me of flickering life in the cells I sensed no one else within the chamber. I wished for the wolf’s ears and nose. I could not stand the suspense. I moved closer to the unlit cells. The dim light from the central area showed me a total of five prisoners, all adults. They slept or huddled on straw. I ventured closer to a cell and saw Prilkop. Asleep or unconscious?

I went back to the door. The Fool and Spark had come up the steps; they all huddled on the landing. I breathed my words. ‘There’s no sign of Bee. Prilkop is in one of the cells. It seems clear, but be quiet. We need to—’

There was the unmistakable sound of a lock turning and a door opening. I pushed back in among my followers and drew the door almost closed behind me. ‘What—’ the Fool began and I quickly placed two fingers on his lips. We all froze.

I could hear but not see. The scuff of booted feet. More than three people. The muttered complaints and curses of guardsmen roused to unwelcome duty. I heard a clatter, a curse, and ‘I hate this place! It stinks. Why would anyone come down here to hide? There’s no one here; the door was still locked. I told you no one got past us. Now can we go back to our station? I was eating.’

‘No.’ The leader’s reply was terse. ‘You’re joining us. We’re to search every chamber on this level for the escaped prisoner. Rewtor and his troops are searching the cottages and gardens. Kilp’s have taken the grounds between the stronghouse and the castle walls. And Coultrie’s rousting out his special lads.’

‘Whole damn place is on edge since Symphe was killed. Wish they’d done a better job on Vindeliar.’ The guardswoman brayed out a laugh. ‘Ferb and I had the honour to toss Dwalia into the cesspit. Ferb took a piss on her. Nasty old bitch looked better dead.’

The leader was not amused. ‘Let’s go. Every room on this level is to be checked, and every door locked behind us. If no luck, we move up to the next level. No one gets past us.’

‘I bet it was one of the Whites did Dwalia. Those little snakes have no reason to like her. And Symphe? I think she was an accident. I heard they did some work on Vindeliar to try to get the truth out of him. He was chained there, he had to have seen what happened. They should just make him talk! I wouldn’t mind watching that.’

‘Let’s go!’ Their leader was plainly annoyed with the chatter and dawdling. The footsteps moved off. I waited until I heard a door close.

The Fool spoke three words into the silence. ‘Dwalia is dead.’ I could not read his sentiment. Was he glad, or less fearful, or regretful that he had not had the chance to be present at her death? Maybe all those things, or none of them.

‘Prilkop is in a cell in there. And three others.’

‘He may know what they did with Bee. He was caged beside her.’

Those were, perhaps, the only words that could have made me delay for him. ‘Lant, take Per. Guard the next door. I know they locked it; it doesn’t mean they won’t be back. Spark, Fool, with me.’ I eased the door open and like shadows we moved to our targets. I gestured to Prilkop’s cell and Spark and the Fool hurried to it while I seized one of the pot-lamps and brought it over. I did not want the other prisoners to awake, nor to free them. They were factors beyond my control and I already had too many of those.

As Spark went to work on the lock on his cell, the Fool softly called, ‘Prilkop, wake up.’

The big man had been curled in a ball, his arms and hand coiled protectively over his head. At the Fool’s second call, he dropped his hands and lifted his head. One eye was swollen shut and his lower lip was as fat as a sausage. He stared. Painfully, he uncurled and set his feet to the cell floor. As he shuffled toward us, I heard chains clank.

‘Where is Bee?’ I demanded of him.

His good eye found me and wandered over my face. He gave a small nod to himself. ‘The Unexpected Son. But I expected you.’ He coughed out a small laugh. ‘The upper cells were where I saw her last. Is this another rescue?’

‘It is.’ I turned.

Behind me, I heard him say, ‘I hope this one is better than the last one.’ As I moved away he called, more loudly than I liked, ‘There are others up there in those rooftop cells. Free them.’

‘Fitz?’ Spark whisper-shouted after me.

‘Free him. Then search for the hidden tunnel. I’ll be back with Bee.’