Robin Hobb - Farseer Trilogy 02 by The Royal Assassin

Author:The Royal Assassin
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2012-03-31T12:26:27+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Interludes

OF STONE WERE their bones made, of the sparkling veined stone of theMountains. Their flesh was made of the shining salts of the earth. Buttheir hearts were made of the hearts of wise men.

They came from afar, those men, a long and trying way. They did nothesitate to lay down the lives that had become a weariness to them. Theyended their days and began eternities, they put aside flesh and donnedstone, they let fall their weapons and rose on new wings. Elderlings.

When the King finally summoned me, I went to him. True to my promise tomyself, I had not voluntarily gone to his chambers since that afternoon.Bitterness still ate at me over his arrangements with Duke Brawndyconcerning Celerity and me. But a summons from one's king was not a thingto be ignored, regardless of what anger churned inside me still.

He sent for me on an autumn morning. It had been at least two monthssince I had last stood before King Shrewd. I had ignored the wounded looksthe Fool flung at me when I encountered him, and turned aside Verity'soccasional query as to why I had not sought out Shrewd's chamber. It waseasy enough. Wallace still guarded his door like a serpent on the hearth,and the King's poor health was no secret from anyone. No one was admittedto his rooms before noon anymore. So I told myself this morning summonsbetokened something important.

I had thought the morning would belong to me. An unseasonably early andvicious autumn storm had pounded us for two days. The driving wind wasmerciless, while drenching rain promised that anyone in an open boat wouldbe fully occupied with bailing. I had spent the evening before in thetavern with the rest of the Rurisk's crew, toasting the storm and wishingthe Red-Ships the full kiss of it. I had come back to the Keep to tumblesoddenly into my bed, certain that I could sleep as long as I wished thenext morning. But a determined page had battered my door until sleepforsook me, and then delivered to me the King's formal summons.

I washed, shaved, smoothed my hair back into a tail, and donned cleanclothes. I steeled myself to betray nothing of my smoldering resentment.When I was confident I was master of myself, I left my chamber. I presentedmyself at the King's door. I fully expected Wallace to sneer and turn measide. But this morning he opened the door promptly to my knock. His glancewas still disapproving, but he immediately ushered me into the King's presence.

Shrewd sat before his hearth in a cushioned chair. Despite myself, myheart, sank at how wasted he had become. His skin was papery andtranslucent as parchment, his fingers gone to bone. His face sagged, skindrooping where flesh had once held it firm. His dark eyes were sunken intohis face. He clasped his hands in his lap in a gesture I knew well. Thusdid I hold my hands to conceal the trembling that occasionally overtook mestill. A small table at his elbow supported a censer, and Smoke rose fromit.

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