The Complete Farseer Trilogy: Assassin’s Apprentice, Royal Assassin, Assassin’s Quest. Robin Hobb
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to keep their courses. And I can snatch a few moments of honest sleep.’ He paused. ‘I ask your pardon, boy. Sometimes, now, the Skilling seems more natural than speaking. I did not mean to intrude on you.’
‘No matter, my prince. I was but startled. I cannot Skill myself, except weakly and erratically. I do not know how I opened to you.’
‘Verity, boy, not your prince. No one’s prince sits still in a sweaty shirt, with two days of beard. But what is this nonsense? Surely it was arranged for you to learn the Skill? I remember well how Patience’s tongue battered away my father’s resolve.’ He permitted himself a weary smile.
‘Galen tried to teach me, but I had not the aptitude. With bastards, I am told it is often …’
‘Wait,’ he growled, and in an instant was within my mind. ‘This is faster,’ he offered, by way of apology, and then, muttering to himself, ‘What is this, that clouds you so? Ah!’ and was gone again from my mind, and all as deft and easy as Burrich taking a tick off a hound’s ear. He sat long, quiet, and so did I, wondering.
‘I am strong in it, as was your father. Galen is not.’
‘Then how did he become Skillmaster?’ I asked quietly. I wondered if Verity were saying this only to somehow make me feel my failure less.
Verity paused as if skirting a delicate subject. ‘Galen was Queen Desire’s … pet. A favourite. The Queen emphatically suggested Galen as apprentice to Solicity. Often I think our old Skillmaster was desperate when she took him as apprentice. Solicity knew she was dying, you see. I believe she acted in haste, and towards the end, regretted her decision. And I do not think he had half the training he should have had before becoming “master”. But there he is; he is what we have.’
Verity cleared his throat and looked uncomfortable. ‘I will speak as plainly as I can, boy, for I see that you know how to hold your tongue when it is wise. Galen was given that place as a plum, not because he merited it. I do not think he has ever fully grasped what it means to be the Skillmaster. Oh, he knows the position carries power, and he has not scrupled to wield it. But Solicity was more than someone who swaggered about secure in a high position. Solicity was advisor to Bounty, and a link between the King and all who Skilled for him. She made it her business to seek out and teach as many as manifested real talent and the judgement to use it well. This coterie is the first group Galen has trained since Chivalry and I were boys. And I do not find them well-taught. No, they are trained, as monkeys and parrots are taught to mimic men, with no understanding of what they do. But they are what I have.’ Verity looked out of the window and spoke softly. ‘Galen has no finesse. He is as coarse as his mother was, and just as presumptuous.’ Verity paused suddenly, and his cheeks flushed as if he had said something ill-considered. He resumed more quietly. ‘The Skill is like language, boy. I need not shout at you to let you know what I want. I can ask politely, or hint, or let you know my wish with a nod and a smile. I can Skill a man, and leave him thinking it was all his own idea to please me. But all that eludes Galen, both in the use of the Skill and the teaching of it. Privation and pain are one way to lower a man’s defences; it is the only way Galen believes in. But Solicity used guile. She would have me watch a kite, or a bit of dust floating in a sunbeam, focusing on it as if there were nothing else in the world. And suddenly, there she would be, inside my mind with me, smiling and praising me. She taught me that being open was simply not being closed. And going into another’s mind is mostly done by being willing to go outside of your own. Do you see, boy?’
‘Somewhat,’ I hedged.
‘Somewhat,’ he sighed. ‘I could teach you to Skill, had I but the time. I do not. But tell me this: were your lessons going well, before he tested you?’
‘No. I never had any aptitude … wait! That’s not true! What am I saying, what have I been thinking?’ Though I was sitting, I swayed suddenly, my head bounding off the arm of Verity’s chair. He reached out a hand and steadied me.
‘I was too swift, I suppose. Steady now, boy. Someone had misted you. Befuddled you, much as I do Red Ship navigators and steersmen. Convince them they’ve taken a sighting already and their course is true when really they are steering into a cross-current. Convince them they’ve passed a point they haven’t sighted yet. Someone convinced you that you could not Skill.’
‘Galen.’ I spoke with certainty. I almost knew the moment. He had slammed into me that afternoon, and from that time, nothing had been the same. I had been living in a fog, all those months …
‘Probably. Though if you Skilled into him at all, I’m sure you’ve seen what Chivalry did to him. He hated your father with a passion, prior to Chiv turning him into a lapdog. We felt badly about it. We’d have undone it, if we could have worked out how to do it, and escape Solicity’s detection. But Chiv was strong with the Skill, and we were all but boys then, and Chiv was angry when he did it. Over something Galen had done to me, ironically. Even when Chivalry was not angry, being Skilled by him was like being trampled by a horse. Or ducked in a fast-flowing river, more like. He’d get in a hurry, barge into you, dump his information and flee.’ He paused again, and reached to uncover a dish of soup on his tray. ‘I suppose I’ve always assumed you knew all this. Though I’m damned if there’s any way you could have. Who would have told you?’
I seized on one piece of information. ‘You could teach me to Skill?’
‘If I had time. A great deal of time. You’re a lot like Chiv and I were, when we learned. Erratic. Strong, but with no idea of how to bring that strength to bear. And Galen has … well, scarred you, I suppose. You’ve walls I can’t begin to penetrate, and I am strong. You’d have to learn to drop them. That’s a hard thing. But I could teach you, yes. If you and I had a year, and nothing else to do.’ He pushed the soup aside. ‘But we don’t.’
My hopes crashed again. This second wave of disappointment engulfed me, grinding me against stones of frustration. My memories all re-ordered themselves, and in a surge of anger, I knew all that had been done to me. Were it not for Smithy, I’d have dashed my life out at the base of the tower that night. Galen had tried to kill me, just as surely as if he’d had a knife. No one would even have known of how he’d beaten me, save his loyal coterie. And while he’d failed at that, he had taken from me the chance to learn Skilling. He’d crippled me, and I would … I leaped to my feet, furious.
‘Whoa. Be slow and careful. You have a grievance, but we cannot have discord within the keep itself right now. Carry it with you until you can settle it quietly, for the King’s sake.’ I bowed my head to the wisdom of his counsel. He lifted the cover from a small roast fowl, dropped it again. ‘Why would you want to learn this Skill anyway? It’s a miserable thing. No fit occupation for a man.’
‘To help you,’ I said without thinking, and then found it true. Once it would have been to prove myself a true and fit son to Chivalry, to impress Burrich or Chade, to increase my standing in the keep. Now, after watching what Verity did, day after day, with no praise or acknowledgement from his subjects, I found I only wanted to help him.
‘To help me,’ he repeated. The storm winds were slackening. With exhausted resignation, he lifted his eyes to the window. Take the food away, boy. I’ve no time for it now.’
‘But you need strength,’ I protested. Guiltily, I knew he had taken time with me he should have taken for food and sleep.
‘I know. But I have no time. Eating takes energy. Odd to realize that. I have none extra to give to that just now.’ His eyes were questing afar now, staring through the sheeting rain that was just beginning to slacken.
‘I’d give you my strength, Verity. If I could.’
He looked at me oddly. ‘Are you sure? Very sure?’
I could not understand the intensity of his question, but I knew the answer. ‘Of course I would.’ And more quietly, ‘I am a King’s man.’
‘And of my own blood,’ he affirmed. He sighed. For a moment he looked sickened. He looked again at the food, and again out of the window. ‘There is just time,’ he whispered. ‘And