Read Online Assassin 3 - Royal Assassin by Hobb Robin - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Hobb Robin
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he awakes in the
morning.
For a moment longer I stood, stupid as a post.
Then I turned and walked quietly away. I felt a sort of wonder.
This, too, was what it meant for there to be a Queen in
Buckkeep.
I climbed another two flights of stairs,
and went down the hall to my own chamber. It smelled stale, and
there was no fire in the hearth. It was cold with disuse, and
dusty. No touch of a woman's hand here. It seemed as bare and
colorless as a cell. But it was still warmer than a tent in the
snow, and the feather bed was as soft and deep as I remembered it.
I shed my travel-stained garments as I walked toward it. I fell
into it and sleep.
CHAPTER THREE
Renewing Ties
THE OLDEST REFERENCE to the Elderlings in the
Buckkeep library is a battered scroll. Vague discolorations upon
the vellum suggest that it came from a parti-colored beast, one
mottled in a way unfamiliar to any of our hunters. The lettering
ink is one derived from squid ink and bell root. It has stood the
test of time well, much better than the colored inks that
originally supplied illustrations and illuminations for the text.
These have not only faded and bled, but in many places have drawn
the attentions of some mite that has gnawed and stiffened the
once-supple parchment, making parts of the scroll too brittle to
unroll.
Unfortunately, the damage was concentrated most
at the innermost parts of the scroll, which deal with portions of
King Wisdom's quest that were not recorded elsewhere. From these
fragmented remains, one can glean that sore need drove him to seek
the homeland of the Elderlings. His troubles are familiar ones;
ships raided his coastline mercilessly. Tatters hint that he rode
off toward the Mountain Kingdom. We don't know why he suspected
that way would lead him to the home of the mythical Elderlings.
Unfortunately the final stages of his journey and his encounter
with the Elderlings seem to have been richly illustrated, for here
the parchment is reduced to a lacy web of tantalizing word bits and
body parts. We do not know anything of this first encounter. Nor
have we even an inkling as to how he induced the Elderlings to
become his allies. Many songs, rich in metaphor, tell how the
Elderlings descended, like storms, like tidal waves, like vengeance
gone gold, and wrath embodied in flesh of stone to drive the
Raiders away from our shores. Legends also tell that they swore to
Wisdom that if ever the Six Duchies had need of their aid, they
would rise again to our defense. One may conjecture; many have, and
the variety of legends that surround this alliance are proof of
that. But King Wisdom's scribe's recounting of the event has been
lost to mildew and worms forever.
My chamber had a single tall window that looked
out over the sea. In winter a wooden shutter closed out the storm
winds, and a tapestry hung over that gave my room an illusion of
cozy warmth. So I awakened to darkness, and for a time lay quietly
finding myself. Gradually the subtle sounds of the Keep filtered in
to me. Morning sounds. Very early morning sounds. Home, I realized.
Buckkeep. And in the next instant, Molly, I said aloud to the
darkness. My body was weary and aching still. But not exhausted. I
clambered from my bed into the chill of my room.
I stumbled to my long-disused hearth and kindled
a small fire. I needed to bring up more firewood soon. The dancing
flames lent the room a fickle yellow light. I took clothing from
the chest at the foot of my bed, only to find the garments oddly
ill-fitting. My long illness had wasted the muscle from my frame,
but I had still somehow managed to grow longer in the legs and
arms. Nothing fit. I picked up my shirt from yesterday, but a night
in clean bedding had refreshed my nose. I could no longer abide the
smell of the travel-stained garment. I dug in my clothes chest
again. I found one soft brown shirt that had once been too long in
the sleeve for me, and now just fit. I put it on with my green
quilted mountain trousers and
morning.
For a moment longer I stood, stupid as a post.
Then I turned and walked quietly away. I felt a sort of wonder.
This, too, was what it meant for there to be a Queen in
Buckkeep.
I climbed another two flights of stairs,
and went down the hall to my own chamber. It smelled stale, and
there was no fire in the hearth. It was cold with disuse, and
dusty. No touch of a woman's hand here. It seemed as bare and
colorless as a cell. But it was still warmer than a tent in the
snow, and the feather bed was as soft and deep as I remembered it.
I shed my travel-stained garments as I walked toward it. I fell
into it and sleep.
CHAPTER THREE
Renewing Ties
THE OLDEST REFERENCE to the Elderlings in the
Buckkeep library is a battered scroll. Vague discolorations upon
the vellum suggest that it came from a parti-colored beast, one
mottled in a way unfamiliar to any of our hunters. The lettering
ink is one derived from squid ink and bell root. It has stood the
test of time well, much better than the colored inks that
originally supplied illustrations and illuminations for the text.
These have not only faded and bled, but in many places have drawn
the attentions of some mite that has gnawed and stiffened the
once-supple parchment, making parts of the scroll too brittle to
unroll.
Unfortunately, the damage was concentrated most
at the innermost parts of the scroll, which deal with portions of
King Wisdom's quest that were not recorded elsewhere. From these
fragmented remains, one can glean that sore need drove him to seek
the homeland of the Elderlings. His troubles are familiar ones;
ships raided his coastline mercilessly. Tatters hint that he rode
off toward the Mountain Kingdom. We don't know why he suspected
that way would lead him to the home of the mythical Elderlings.
Unfortunately the final stages of his journey and his encounter
with the Elderlings seem to have been richly illustrated, for here
the parchment is reduced to a lacy web of tantalizing word bits and
body parts. We do not know anything of this first encounter. Nor
have we even an inkling as to how he induced the Elderlings to
become his allies. Many songs, rich in metaphor, tell how the
Elderlings descended, like storms, like tidal waves, like vengeance
gone gold, and wrath embodied in flesh of stone to drive the
Raiders away from our shores. Legends also tell that they swore to
Wisdom that if ever the Six Duchies had need of their aid, they
would rise again to our defense. One may conjecture; many have, and
the variety of legends that surround this alliance are proof of
that. But King Wisdom's scribe's recounting of the event has been
lost to mildew and worms forever.
My chamber had a single tall window that looked
out over the sea. In winter a wooden shutter closed out the storm
winds, and a tapestry hung over that gave my room an illusion of
cozy warmth. So I awakened to darkness, and for a time lay quietly
finding myself. Gradually the subtle sounds of the Keep filtered in
to me. Morning sounds. Very early morning sounds. Home, I realized.
Buckkeep. And in the next instant, Molly, I said aloud to the
darkness. My body was weary and aching still. But not exhausted. I
clambered from my bed into the chill of my room.
I stumbled to my long-disused hearth and kindled
a small fire. I needed to bring up more firewood soon. The dancing
flames lent the room a fickle yellow light. I took clothing from
the chest at the foot of my bed, only to find the garments oddly
ill-fitting. My long illness had wasted the muscle from my frame,
but I had still somehow managed to grow longer in the legs and
arms. Nothing fit. I picked up my shirt from yesterday, but a night
in clean bedding had refreshed my nose. I could no longer abide the
smell of the travel-stained garment. I dug in my clothes chest
again. I found one soft brown shirt that had once been too long in
the sleeve for me, and now just fit. I put it on with my green
quilted mountain trousers and
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