rh.royalassassin-第159部分

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　　　　　　　Justin　leaped　to　his　feet　with　a　shriek　and　I　braced　myself　for　his　onslaught。　He　fooled　me；　though。　He　fled　squealing　down　the　hall　and　I　followed；　knife　in　hand。　He　sounded　just　like　a　pig；　and　he　was　incredibly　fast。　No　fox　tricks　for　Justin；　he　favored　the　most　direct　route　to　the　Great　Hall；　shrieking　all　the　way。　I　laughed　as　I　ran。　Even　now　it　seems　to　me　incredible　to　recall　that；　but　I　cannot　deny　it。　Did　he　suppose　Regal　would　draw　sword　to　defend　him？　Did　he　think；　having　killed　my　king；　that　anything　in　the　world　could　stand　between　me　and　him？
　　　　　　　In　the　Great　Hall；　musicians　had　been　playing　and　folk　dancing；　but　Justin's　entrance　put　an　end　to　that。　I　had　gained　on　him；　so　that　there　were　scarce　a　score　of　steps　between　us　when　he　caromed　into　one　of　the　laden　tables。　Folk　were　still　standing　shocked　at　his　entrance　when　I　leaped　on　him　and　pulled　him　down。　I　punched　the　knife　in　and　out　of　him　half　a　dozen　times　before　anyone　thought　they　should　interfere。　As　Regal's　Farrow…bred　guards　reached　for　me　I　flung　his　twitching　body　into　them；　found　a　table　at　my　back；　and　leaped　onto　it。　I　held　up　my　dripping　blade。　〃The　King's　knife！〃　I　told　them；　and　showed　it　'round。　〃Taking　blood　in　vengeance　for　the　King's　death。　That　is　all！〃
　　　　　　　〃He's　mad！〃　someone　cried。　〃Verity's　death　has　driven　him　mad！〃
　　　　　　　〃Shrewd！〃　I　cried　in　fury。　〃King　Shrewd　has　fallen　to　treachery　this　night！〃
　　　　　　　Regal's　Inlander　guards　hit　my　table　in　a　wave。　I　had　not　thought　there　were　that　many　of　them。　We　all　went　down　in　a　wave　of　food　and　crockery。　Folk　were　screaming；　but　as　many　surged　forward　to　witness　as　retreated　in　horror。　Hod　would　have　been　proud　of　me。　With　the　king's　belt　knife；　I　held　off　three　men　with　short　swords。　I　danced；　I　leaped；　I　pirouetted。　I　was　much　too　fast　for　them　and　the　cuts　they　did　inflict　on　me　caused　me　no　pain。　I　scored　two　good　slashes　on　two　of　them；　simply　because　they　did　not　think　I　would　dare　lunge　close　enough　to　inflict　them。
　　　　　　　Somewhere　back　in　the　crowd；　someone　raised　a　cry。　〃Arms！　To　the　Bastard！　They　are　killing　FitzChivalry！〃　A　struggle　began；　but　I　could　not　see　who　was　involved；　nor　give　it　any　attention　at　all。　I　stabbed　one　of　the　guards　in　the　hand　and　he　dropped　his　blade。　〃Shrewd！〃　someone　cried　above　the　din。　〃King　Shrewd　is　slain！〃　By　the　sounds　of　the　other　struggle；　more　folk　were　being　involved。　I　could　not　look　to　see。　I　heard　another　table　crash　to　the　floor；　and　a　scream　across　the　room。　Then　Buckkeep's　own　guard　came　pouring　into　the　room。　I　heard　Kerf's　voice　raised　above　the　general　din。　〃Separate　them！　Quell　it！　Try　not　to　spill　blood　in　the　King's　own　hall！〃　I　saw　my　attackers　ringed；　saw　Blade's　look　of　consternation　as　he　saw　me　and　then　cried　out　over　his　shoulder；　〃It's　FitzChivalry！　They're　trying　to　take　down　the　Fitz！〃
　　　　　　　〃Separate　them！　Disarm　them！〃　Kerf　butted　heads　with　one　of　Regal's　guards；　dropping　him。　Beyond　him　I　saw　knots　of　struggling　break　out　as　Buck　guards　fell　on　Regal's　personal　guard；　battering　blades　down　and　demanding　that　swords　be　sheathed。　I　had　space　for　a　breath；　and　could　lift　my　eyes　from　my　own　struggle　to　see　that；　indeed；　a　great　many　folk　had　bee　involved；　and　not　just　guards。　Fistfights　had　broken　out　among　the　guests　as　well。　It　looked　to　bee　both　brawl　and　riot　when　suddenly　Blade；　one　of　our　own　guardsmen；　shouldered　between　two　of　my　attackers；　sending　them　sprawling　to　the　floor。　He　leaped　forward　and　confronted　me。
　　　　　　　〃Blade！〃　I　greeted　him　with　delight；　thinking　him　an　ally。　Then；　as　I　noticed　his　defensive　stance；　I　told　him；　〃You　know　I　would　not　draw　blade　against　you！〃
　　　　　　　〃I　know　that　well；　lad；〃　he　told　me　sadly；　and　the　old　soldier　flung　himself　forward　to　trap　me　in　a　bear　hug。　I　do　not　know　who　hit　me　on　the　back　of　the　head；　or　with　what。
　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　CHAPTER　THIRTY
　　　　　　　Dungeons
　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　IF　A　HOUNDSMAN　suspects　that　a　dog　boy　is　using　the　Wit　to　defile　and　divert　the　hounds　to　his　own　ends；　he　should　be　watchful　for　these　signs。　If　the　boy　speaks　not　overmuch　to　his　fellows；　be　wary。　If　the　hounds　perk　up　before　the　boy　is　in　sight；　or　whine　before　he　has　left；　be　watchful。　If　a　hound　will　leave　off　his　snuffing　for　a　bitch　in　season；　or　turn　aside　from　a　blood　trail　and　lie　quiet　at　the　boy's　word；　be　certain。　Let　the　boy　be　hanged；　over　water　if　possible；　well　away　from　the　stables；　and　his　body　burned。　Let　every　hound　he　has　trained　be　drowned；　as　well　as　all　sired　by　defiled　hounds。　A　hound　who　has　known　the　Wit　use　will　neither　fear　nor　respect　any　other　master；　but　is　sure　to　turn　vicious　when　deprived　of　the　Witted　one。　A　Witted　boy　cannot　be　trusted　to　beat　an　unruly　hound；　nor　will　he　suffer　his　Wit　hound　to　be　sold　away；　or　used　as　bear　bait；　no　matter　how　old　the　dog。　A　Wit　boy　will　turn　his　master's　hounds　to　his　own　purposes；　and　never　has　any　true　loyalty　to　his　master；　but　only　to　his　Wit　hound。
　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　I　woke　up　sometime。　Of　all　the　cruel　jests　fate　had　recently　played　on　me；　I　decided　that　awakening　was　the　cruelest。　I　lay　still　and　cataloged　my　various　disforts。　The　exhaustion　from　my　carris…seed　frenzy　bined　well　with　the　exhaustion　from　my　Skill　battle　with　Justin　and　Serene。　I　had　taken　some　nasty　sword　cuts　to　my　right　forearm；　and　one　to　my　left　thigh　that　I　recalled　not　at　all。　None　of　them　had　been　dressed；　my　sleeve　and　trousers　were　matted　to　my　skin　with　dried　blood。　Whoever　had　knocked　me　unconscious　had　made　sure　of　his　work　with　several　more　blows。　Other　than　that；　I　was　fine。　I　told　myself　this　a　number　of　times；　ignoring　the　trembling　in　my　left　leg　and　arm。　I　opened　my　eyes。
　　　　　　　The　room　I　was　in　was　small　and　stone。　There　was　a　pot　in　the　corner。　When　I　finally　decided　I　could　move；　I　craned　my　head　enough　to　see　that　there　was　a　door；　with　a　small　barred　window　in　it。　This　was　the　light　source；　fed　by　a　torch　somewhere　down　a　hallway　outside。　Oh。　Yes。　The　dungeons。　My　curiosity　satisfied；　I　closed　my　eyes　again　and　slept。　Nose　to　tail；　I　rested　safe　in　a　deep　den　covered　over　by　the　blowing　snow。　The　illusion　of　safety　was　as　much　as　Nighteyes　could　offer　me。　So　weak　I　was　that　even　his　thoughts　to　me　seemed　misty。　Safe。　That　was　as　much　as　he　could　convey。
　　　　　　　I　awoke　again。　I　could　tell　time　had　passed　by　how　much　thirstier　I　was。　Other　than　that；　everything　was　remarkably　the　same。　This　time　I　determined　that　the　bench　I　was　lying　on　was　also　made　of　stone。　There　was　nothing　between　me　and　the　stone　save　the　clothes　I　wore。　〃Hey！〃　I　called。　〃Guards！〃　There　was　no　answer。　Everything　seemed　a　bit　vague。　After　a　time　I　could　not　recall　if　I　had　already　cried　out；　or　if　I　was　summoning　the　strength　to　do　so。　After　a　bit　more　time　I　decided　I　did　not　have　the　strength。　I　went　back　to　sleep。　I　couldn't　imagine　doing　anything　else。
　　　　　　　I　awoke　to　Patience's　voice　arguing。　Whoever　she　was　arguing　with　wasn't　answering　much；　and　wasn't　giving　in。　〃It's　ridiculous。　What　are　you　afraid　I'll　do？〃　A　silence。　〃I've　known　him　since　he　was　a　child。〃　Another　silence。　〃He's　hurt。　What　possible　damage　can　it　do　for　me　to　at　least　look　at　his　injuries？　You　can　hang　him　whole　as　easily　as　you　can　wounded；　can't　you？〃　Another　silence。
　　　　　　　After　a　time　I　decided　I　might　be　able　to　move。　I　had　a　lot　of　bruises　and　scrapes　I　couldn't　account　for；　probably　gained　on　the　journey　between　the　Great　Hall　and　here。　The　worst　part　of　moving　was　that　it　tugged　my　clothing　against　the　scabbed　over　cuts。　I　decided　I　could　stand　it。　For　such　a　small　room；　it　was　a　very　long　way　from　the　bed　to　the　door。　When　I　got　there；　I　discovered　I　could　just　see　out　the　little　barred　window。　What　I　could　see　was　the　stone　wall　on　the　opposite　side　of　the　narrow　corridor。　I　gripped　the　bars　with　my　good　left　hand。
　　　　　　　〃Patience？〃　I　croaked。
　　　　　　　〃Fitz？　Oh；　Fitz；　are　you　all　right？〃
　　　　　　　Such　a　question。　I　started　to　laugh　and　coughed　instead；　finishing　with　the　taste　of　blood　in　my　mouth。　I　didn't　know　what　to　say。　I　wasn't　fine；　but　it　wasn't　healthy　for　her　to　be　too　interested　in　me。　Even　as　fuddled　as　I　was；　I　knew　that。　〃I'm　all　right；〃　I　croaked　at　last。
　　　　　　　〃Oh；　Fitz；　the　King　is　dead！〃　she　called　to　me　from　down　the　hall。　The　words