rh.royalassassin-第73节

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ad　exchanged　banter　with　them　as　floors　were　scrubbed；　fresh　reeds　strewn；　and　the　furniture　rubbed　well　with　fragrant　cleansing　oil。　Mistress　Hasty　bundled　a　veritable　mountain　of　quilts　atop　the　King　while　she　ordered　the　windows　opened　and　the　room　aired。　She；　too；　sniffed　at　all　the　ashes　and　burn　pots。　I　quietly　suggested　that　Wallace　might　best　see　to　their　cleansing；　as　he　was　most　familiar　with　the　qualities　of　the　herbs　that　had　burned　there。　He　was　a　much　more　docile　and　tractable　man　when　he　returned　with　the　pots。　I　wondered　if　he　himself　knew　just　what　effect　his　smokes　had　upon　Shrewd。　But　if　these　smokes　were　not　his　doing；　then　whose？　The　Fool　and　I　exchanged　more　than　one　secret　significant　glance。
　　　　　　　Not　only　was　the　chamber　scrubbed　out；　but　made　bright　as　well；　with　festive　candles　and　wreaths；　evergreens　and　bare　branches　of　trees　gilded　and　hung　with　painted　nuts。　It　brought　the　color　back　into　the　King's　cheeks。　I　sensed　Verity's　quiet　approval。　When　that　night　the　King　descended　from　his　chambers　to　join　us　in　the　Great　Hall；　and　actually　called　out　for　his　favorite　musicians　and　songs；　I　took　it　as　a　personal　victory。
　　　　　　　Some　moments　were　solely　mine；　of　course；　and　not　just　my　nights　with　Molly。　As　often　as　I　could　manage；　I　would　creep　off　from　the　Keep　to　run　and　hunt　with　my　wolf。　Bonded　as　our　minds　were；　I　was　never　pletely　isolated　from　him；　but　a　simple　mind　link　did　not　have　the　deep　satisfaction　of　sharing　a　hunt。　It　is　hard　to　express　the　pleteness　of　two　beings　moving　as　one；　for　a　single　purpose。　Those　times　were　really　the　fulfilling　of　our　bond。　But　even　when　I　went　days　without　physically　seeing　him；　he　was　with　me。　His　presence　was　like　a　perfume；　which　one　is　aware　of　greatly　when　one　first　encounters　it；　but　then　bees　simply　a　part　of　the　air　one　breathes。　I　knew　he　was　there　in　small　ways。　My　sense　of　smell　seemed　more　acute；　and　I　attributed　this　to　his　expertise　in　reading　what　the　air　brought　me。　I　became　more　aware　of　others　around　me；　as　if　his　consciousness　were　guarding　my　back；　and　alerting　me　to　small　sensory　clues　I　might　otherwise　have　ignored。　Food　was　more　savory；　perfumes　more　tangible。　I　tried　not　to　extend　this　logic　to　my　appetite　for　Molly's　pany。　I　knew　he　was　there；　but　as　he　had　promised；　he　did　nothing　overt　to　make　me　aware　of　him　at　such　times。
　　　　　　　A　month　after　Winterfest；　I　found　myself　thrown　into　a　new　labor。　Verity　had　told　me　he　wished　me　aboard　a　ship。　I　found　myself　summoned　one　day　to　the　deck　of　the　Rurisk　and　assigned　a　spot　at　an　oar。　The　master　of　the　vessel　openly　wondered　why　he　had　been　sent　a　twig　when　he　asked　for　a　log。　I　could　not　dispute　the　question。　Most　of　the　men　around　me　were　brawny　fellows　and　seasoned　ship　hands。　My　only　possible　chance　to　prove　myself　was　to　throw　myself　into　my　tasks　with　every　bit　of　energy　I　could　muster。　At　least　I　had　the　satisfaction　of　knowing　I　was　not　alone　in　my　inexperience。　While　the　other　men　aboard　had　all　served　in　some　fashion　on　other　vessels；　all　save　the　Outislanders　among　the　crew　were　new　to　this　style　of　ship。
　　　　　　　Verity　had　had　to　seek　out　our　oldest　shipwrights　to　e　up　with　men　who　knew　how　to　build　a　fighting　ship。　The　Rurisk　was　the　largest　of　the　four　vessels　launched　at　Winterfest。　The　lines　of　the　boat　were　sleek　and　sinuous；　and　her　shallow　draft　meant　that　she　could　skim　across　a　calm　sea　like　an　insect　on　a　pond；　or　ride　out　rough　swell　as　handily　as　any　gull。　In　two　of　the　other　boats；　the　planking　was　pegged　edge　to　edge　into　the　ribs；　but　the　Rurisk　and　her　smaller　sister　ship　Constance　were　clinker…built；　with　the　planking　overlapped。　The　Rurisk　had　been　built　by　Mastfish；　and　the　planking　was　well　fitted；　but　still　had　the　give　to　withstand　any　battering　the　seas　might　offer。　Only　a　minimum　of　caulking　with　tarred　rope　had　been　needed；　so　lovingly　had　this　ship　been　crafted。　Her　mast　of　pine　supported　a　sail　of　spun　flax　reinforced　with　rope。　Verity's　buck　graced　the　sail　of　the　Rurisk。
　　　　　　　The　new　ships　still　smelled　of　wood　shavings　and　tarred　rope。　Her　decks　were　scarcely　scarred；　and　the　oars　were　clean　their　entire　length。　Soon　the　Rurisk　would　take　on　a　character　of　its　own；　a　bit　of　marlinspike　work　to　make　it　easier　to　grip　an　oar；　a　splice　in　a　line；　all　the　nicks　and　dings　of　a　well…used　ship。　But　for　now；　the　Rurisk　was　as　green　as　we　were。　When　we　took　the　ship　out；　it　reminded　me　of　an　inexperienced　rider　on　a　green…broke　horse。　She　sidled　about；　shied　and　curtsied　among　the　waves；　and　then；　as　we　all　found　a　rhythm；　stepped　out　and　cut　through　the　water　like　a　greased　knife。
　　　　　　　It　was　Verity's　will　that　I　immerse　myself　in　these　new　skills。　I　was　given　a　bunk　in　the　warehouse　with　the　rest　of　my　shipmates。　I　learned　to　be　unobtrusive；　but　energetic　in　jumping　to　any　order。　The　master　was　Six　Duchies　through　and　through；　but　the　mate　was　an　Outislander；　and　he　it　was　who　really　taught　us　to　handle　the　Rurisk　and　just　what　the　ship　could　do。　There　were　two　other　Outislander　immigrants　aboard；　and　when　we　weren't　learning　the　ship　or　doing　maintenance　and　sleeping；　they　congregated　and　spoke　quietly　among　themselves。　I　wondered　that　they　didn't　see　how　this　set　the　Six　Duchies　folk　to　muttering。　My　bunk　was　near　to　theirs；　and　oftentimes　as　I　lay　trying　to　fall　asleep；　I　was　aware　of　Verity　urging　me　to　pay　attention　to　soft　words　spoken　in　a　language　I　didn't　understand。　So　I　did；　knowing　that　he　made　more　sense　of　the　sounds　than　I　did。　After　a　time　I　came　to　realize　that　it　was　not　so　very　different　from　the　Duchies'　tongue；　and　that　I　could　understand　some　of　what　was　said　for　myself。　I　found　no　talk　of　betrayal　or　mutiny　among　them。　Only　soft；　sad　words　of　kin　Forged　away　from　them　by　their　own　countrymen；　and　harsh　bitter　vows　of　vengeance　to　be　carried　out　against　their　own　kind。　They　were　not　so　different　from　the　Six　Duchies　men　and　women　of　the　crew。　Almost　everyone　onboard　had　lost　someone　to　Forging。　Guiltily；　I　wondered　how　many　of　those　lost　souls　I　had　sent　into　the　oblivion　of　death。　It　made　a　small　barrier　between　me　and　the　other　crew　members。
　　　　　　　Despite　the　fury　of　the　winter　storms；　we　took　the　ships　out　nearly　every　day。　We　fought　mock　battles　against　each　other；　practicing　techniques　for　grappling　or　ramming　another　ship；　and　also　gauging　a　leap　so　that　one　boarded　the　other　vessel　rather　than　ending　up　in　the　waters　between　them。　Our　master　was　at　pains　to　explain　all　our　advantages　to　us。　The　enemy　we　would　encounter　would　be　far　from　home；　and　already　worn　from　weeks　at　sea。　They　would　have　been　living　aboard　their　vessels；　cramped　and　punished　by　the　weather；　while　we　would　be　fresh　each　day　and　well　fed。　The　rigors　of　their　journey　would　demand　that　every　oarsman　must　also　be　a　Raider；　while　we　could　carry　additional　fighters　who　could　use　their　bows　or　board　another　vessel　while　keeping　our　oars　fully　manned。　Often　I　saw　the　mate　shaking　his　head　over　these　words。　Privately；　he　confided　to　his　fellows　that　the　rigors　of　a　raiding　journey　were　what　made　a　crew　hard　and　fierce。　How　could　soft；　well…fed　farmers　hope　to　prevail　against　sea…honed　Red…Ship　Raiders？
　　　　　　　One　day　out　of　ten　I　was　allowed　a　day　to　myself；　and　those　days　I　spent　at　the　Keep。　They　were　scarcely　restful。　I　reported　to　King　Shrewd；　detailing　to　him　my　experiences　aboard　the　Rurisk；　and　taking　pleasure　in　the　interest　that　awoke　in　his　eyes　at　such　times。　He　seemed　better；　but　was　still　not　the　robust　King　I　remembered　from　my　youth。　Patience　and　Lacey　likewise　demanded　a　visit；　and　I　made　a　dutiful　call　on　Kettricken　as　well。　An　hour　or　two　for　Nighteyes；　a　clandestine　visit　to　Molly's　chambers；　and　then　the　excuses　to　hurry　back　to　my　own　chamber　for　the　rest　of　the　night　so　that　I　might　be　there　when　Chade　would　summon　me　for　his　quizzings。　The　following　dawn；　a　brief　report　to　Verity；　where　with　a　touch　he　renewed　our　Skill　bond。　Often　it　was　a　relief　to　return　to　the　crew's　quarters　to　get　a　solid　night　of　sleep。
　　　　　　　Finally；　as　winter　drew　to　a　close；　chance　afforded　me　an　opportunity　to　speak　privately　with　Shrewd。　I　had　gone　to　his　chambers　on　one　of　my　days　away　from　the　boat；　to　report　to　him　on　our　training　progress。　Shrewd　was　in　better　health　than　usual　and　was　sitting　up　in　his　chair　by　the　fire。　Wallace　was　not　about　that　day。　Instead；　there　was　a　young　woman；　ostensibly　tidying　the　chamber；　but　almost　certainly　spying　for　Regal。　The　Fool；　too；　was　underfoot　as　always；　and　taking　a　keen　pleasure　in　making　her　unfortable。　I　had　grown　up　with　the　Fool；　and　had　always　accepted　his　white　skin　and　colorless　eyes　as　simply　the　way　he　was。　The　woman　obviously　felt　differently。　She　began；　it　must　be　admitted；　peering　at　the　Fool　whenever　she　thought　he　might　not　be　paying　attention。　But　as　soon　as　he　noted　it；　he　began　to　peek　back　at　her；　and　each　time　affected　a　more　lascivious　glance　than　the　last。　She　became　more　and　more　nervous；　and　when　finally　she　must　pass　by　us　with　her　bucket；　and　the　Fool　sent　Ratsy　on　his　scepter　to　peek　up　under　her　skirts；　she　leaped　back　with　a　shriek；　dousing　herself　and　the　floor　she　had　just　scrubbed　with　dirty　water。　Shrewd　rebuked　the　Fool；　who　groveled　extravagantly　and　remorselessly；　and　then　dis