Free Assassin 3 - Royal Assassin by Hobb Robin

buskins. I had no doubt that as soon
as I encountered the Lady Patience or Mistress Hasty, I would be
attacked and the situation remedied. But not, I hoped, before
breakfast and a trip into Buckkeep Town. There were several places
there where I might get word of Molly.
    I found the castle stirring but not yet fully
awake. I ate in the kitchen as I had when a child, finding that
there, as always, the bread was freshest and the porridge sweetest.
Cook exclaimed to see me, one minute commenting on how much I had
grown, and the next lamenting how thin and worn I looked. I
surmised that before the day was out, I would be heartily sick of
these observations. As traffic in the kitchen increased I fled,
carrying off a thick slice of bread well buttered and laden with
rosehip preserves. I headed back toward my room to get a winter
cloak.
    In every chamber I passed through, I found more
and more evidence of Kettricken's presence. A sort of tapestry,
woven of different-colored grasses and representing a mountain
scene, now graced the wall of the Lesser Hall. There were no
flowers to be had this time of year, but in odd places I
encountered fat pottery bowls full of pebbles, and these held bare
but graceful branches, or dried thistles and cattails. The changes
were small but unmistakable.
    I found myself in one of the older sections of
Buckkeep, and then climbing the dusty steps to Verity's watchtower.
It commanded a wide view of our seacoast, and from its tall windows
Verity kept his summer vigil for raiding ships. From here he worked
the Skill magic that kept the Raiders at bay, or at least gave us
some warning of their coming. It was a thin defense at times. He
should have had a coterie of underlings trained in the Skill to
assist him. But I myself, despite my bastard blood, had never been
able to control my random Skill abilities. Galen, our Skill master,
had died before he had trained more than a handful in the Skill.
There was no one to replace him, and those he had trained lacked a
true communion with Verity. So Verity Skilled alone against our
enemies. It had aged him before his time. I worried that he would
overspend himself upon it, and succumb to the addicting weakness of
those who Skilled too much.
    By the time I reached the top of the spiraling
tower steps, I was winded and my legs ached. I pushed at the door
and it gave easily on oiled hinges. From long habit, I stepped
quietly as I entered the room. I had not really expected to find
Verity or anyone else there. The sea storms were our watchmen in
winter, guarding our coasts from Raiders. I blinked in the sudden
gray light of morning that was flooding in from the unshuttered
tower windows. Verity was a dark silhouette against a gray storm
sky. He did not turn. Shut the door, he said quietly. The draft up
the stairs makes this room as windy as a chimney.
    I did so, and then stood shivering in the chill.
The wind brought the scent of the sea with it, and I breathed it in
as if it were life itself. I had not expected to find you here, I
said.
    He kept his eyes on the water. Didn't you? Then
why did you come? There was amusement in his voice.
    It jolted me. I don't really know. I headed back
to my room .... My voice dwindled away as I tried to recall why I
had come here.
    I Skilled you, he said simply.
    I stood silent and thought. I felt
nothing.
    I didn't intend that you should. It is as I told
you a long time ago. The Skill can be a soft whisper in a man's
ear. It doesn't have to be a shout of command.
    He slowly turned to face me, and as my eyes
adjusted to the light my heart leaped with joy at the change I saw
in the man. When I had left Buckkeep at harvest time, he had been a
withered shadow, worn thin by the weight of his duties and his
constant watchfulness. His dark hair was still salted with gray,
but there was muscle once more on his stocky frame, and vitality
snapped in his dark eyes. He looked every bit a King.
    Marriage seems to agree with you, my prince, I
said