I went over my meager store of facts, feeling sure I was missing the significance of something. But I also wondered if I was not deceiving myself. Perhaps I was overreacting to everything. Perhaps the safest course was simply to do as Regal told me and let him accept the responsibility. Perhaps I should save time and cut my own throat.
I could, of course, go directly to Rurisk, tell him that despite my best efforts, Regal still wanted him dead, and beg asylum of him. After all, who would not find attractive a trained assassin who had already turned on one master?
I could tell Regal I was going to kill Rurisk and then simply not do it. I thought carefully about that.
I could tell Regal I was going to kill Rurisk, and then kill Regal instead. The smoke, I told myself. Only the smoke made that sound so wise.
I could go to Burrich and tell him I was really an assassin and ask his advice about my situation.
I could take the Princess’s mare and ride off into the mountains.
“So, are you enjoying yourself?” Jonqui asked as she came up and took my arm.
I realized I was staring at a man juggling knives and torches. “I shall long remember this experience,” I told her. And then suggested a stroll through the cool of the gardens. I knew the smoke was affecting me.
Late that night, I reported to Regal’s chamber. Rowd admitted me this time, smiling pleasantly. “Good evening,” he greeted me, and I walked in as if into a wolverine’s den. But the air within the chamber was blue with smoke, and this seemed the source of Rowd’s cheerfulness. Regal kept me waiting again, and though I tucked my chin to my chest and breathed shallowly, I knew the smoke was affecting me. Control, I reminded myself, and tried not to feel the giddiness. I shifted in my seat several times and finally resorted to openly covering my mouth and nose with a hand. It had small effect on screening the smoke.
I looked up as the screen to the inner chamber slid aside, but it was only Sevrens. He glanced at Rowd, then came to sit beside me. After a moment of his silence I asked, “Will Regal see me now?”
Sevrens shook his head. “He is with a . . . companion. But he has trusted me with all you need to know.” He opened his hand on the bench between us to show me a tiny white pouch. “He has obtained this for you. He trusts you will approve. A little of this, mixed with wine, will cause death, but not soon. There will not even be symptoms of death for several weeks, and then it comes as a lethargy that gradually increases. The man does not suffer,” he added, as if this were my primary concern.
I racked my brains. “Is this Kex gum?” I had heard of such a poison, but never seen it. If Regal had a source, Chade would want to know.
“I do not know its name, nor does it matter. Only this. Prince Regal says you will have a use for it tonight. You will make an opportunity.”
“What does he expect of me? That I will go to his chambers, knock, and enter with poisoned wine for him? Isn’t that a bit obvious?”
“Done that way, of course it is. But surely your training has given you more finesse than that?”
“My training tells me that things like this are not discussed with a valet. I must hear this from Regal, or I do not act.”
Sevrens sighed. “My master foresaw this. This is his message. By the pin you carry and the crest on your breast, he commands this. Refuse it, and you refuse your king. You will be committing treason, and he will see you hang for it.”
“But I—”
“Take it and go. The longer you wait, the later it is, and the more contrived will seem your visit to his chambers.”
Sevrens rose abruptly and left me. Rowd sat like a toad in the corner, eyeing me and smiling. I would have to kill both of them before we returned to Buckkeep, if I were to preserve my usefulness as an assassin. I wondered if they knew that. I smiled back at Rowd, tasting smoke in the back of my throat. I took my poison and left.
Once at the base of Regal’s staircase, I retreated to the wall where it was most shadowed, and clambered as swiftly as I could up one of the supports of Regal’s chamber. Clinging like a cat, I snugged myself up to the supports of the chamber floor and waited. And waited. Until between the smoke whirling in my head and my own weariness and the lingering effects of Kettricken’s herbs, I wondered if I were dreaming all of it. I wondered if my clumsy trap would yield me nothing. I considered, finally, that Regal had told me he had specifically requested Lady Thyme. But Shrewd had sent me instead. I recalled how Chade had puzzled over that. And finally I recalled his words to me. Had my king given me up to Regal? And if he had, what did I owe to any of them? Eventually, I saw Rowd depart and, after what seemed a very long time, return with Cob.