rh.theassassinsapprentice-第17部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


alid　wife　back　to　the　warm　and　gentle　lands　that　were　her　home　province。　Word　was　that　they　lived　well　and　fortably　there；　that　Patience's　health　was　slowly　mending；　and　that　Chivalry；　substantially　quieter　a　man　than　he　had　been　before；　was　gradually　learning　stewardship　of　his　vineyard…rich　valley。　A　pity　that　Patience　blamed　Burrich　as　well　for　Chivalry's　lapse　in　morals；　and　had　declared　she　could　no　longer　abide　the　sight　of　the　man。　For　between　the　injury　to　his　leg　and　Chivalry's　abandonment　of　him；　old　Burrich　just　wasn't　the　man　he　had　been。　Was　a　time　when　no　woman　of　the　keep　walked　quickly　past　him；　to　catch　his　eye　was　to　make　yourself　the　envy　of　nearly　anyone　old　enough　to　wear　skirts。　And　now？　Old　Burrich；　they　called　him；　and　him　still　in　his　prime。　And　so　unfair；　as　if　any　manservant　had　any　say　over　what　his　master　did。　But　it　was　all　to　the　good　anyway；　they　supposed。　And　didn't　Verity；　after　all；　make　a　much　better　king…in…waiting　than　had　Chivalry？　So　rigorously　noble　was　Chivalry　that　he　made　all　others　feel　slatternly　and　stingy　in　his　presence；　he'd　never　allowed　himself　a　moment's　respite　from　what　was　right；　and　while　he　was　too　chivalrous　to　sneer　at　those　who　did；　one　always　had　the　feeling　that　his　perfect　behavior　was　a　silent　reproach　to　those　with　less　self…discipline。　Ah；　but　then　here　was　the　bastard；　now；　though；　after　all　those　years；　and　well；　here　was　the　proof　that　he　hadn't　been　the　man　he'd　pretended　to　be。　Verity；　now　there　was　a　man　among　men；　a　king　folk　could　look　to　and　see　as　royalty。　He　rode　hard；　and　soldiered　alongside　his　men；　and　if　he　was　occasionally　drunk　or　had　at　times　been　less　than　discreet；　well；　he　owned　up　to　it；　honest　as　his　name。　Folk　could　understand　a　man　like　that；　and　follow　him。
　　　　　　　To　all　this　I　listened　avidly；　if　mutely；　while　several　fabrics　were　held　against　me；　debated；　and　selected。　I　gained　a　much　deeper　understanding　of　why　the　keep　children　left　me　to　play　alone。　If　the　women　considered　that　I　might　have　thoughts　or　feelings　about　their　conversation；　they　showed　no　sign　of　it。　The　only　remark　I　remember　Mistress　Hasty　making　to　me　specifically　was　that　I　should　take　greater　care　in　washing　my　neck。　Then　Mistress　Hasty　shooed　me　from　the　room　as　if　I　were　an　annoying　chicken；　and　I　found　myself　finally　heading　to　the　kitchens　for　some　food。
　　　　　　　That　afternoon　I　was　back　with　Hod；　practicing　until　I　was　sure　my　stave　had　mysteriously　doubled　its　weight。　Then　food；　and　bed；　and　up　again　in　the　morning　and　back　to　Burrich's　tutelage。　My　learning　filled　my　days；　and　any　spare　time　I　found　was　swallowed　up　with　the　chores　associated　with　my　learning；　whether　it　was　tack　care　for　Burrich；　or　sweeping　the　armory　and　putting　it　back　in　order　for　Hod。　In　due　time　I　found　not　one；　or　even　two；　but　three　entire　sets　of　clothing；　including　stockings；　set　out　one　afternoon　on　my　bed。　Two　were　of　fairly　ordinary　stuff；　in　a　familiar　brown　that　most　of　the　children　my　age　seemed　to　wear；　but　one　was　of　thin　blue　cloth；　and　on　the　breast　was　a　buck's　head；　done　in　silver　thread。　Burrich　and　the　other　men…at…arms　wore　a　leaping　buck　as　their　emblem。　I　had　only　seen　the　buck's　head　on　the　jerkins　of　Regal　and　Verity。　So　I　looked　at　it　and　wondered；　but　wondered；　too；　at　the　slash　of　red　stitching　that　cut　it　diagonally；　marching　right　over　the　design。
　　　　　　　〃It　means　you're　a　bastard；〃　Burrich　told　me　bluntly　when　I　asked　him　about　it。　〃Of　acknowledged　royal　blood；　but　a　bastard　all　the　same。　That's　all。　It's　just　a　quick　way　of　showing　you've　royal　blood；　but　aren't　of　the　true　line。　If　you　don't　like　it；　you　can　change　it。　I　am　sure　the　King　would　grant　it。　A　name　and　a　crest　of　your　own。〃
　　　　　　　〃A　name？〃
　　　　　　　〃Certainly。　It's　a　simple　enough　request。　Bastards　are　rare　in　the　noble　houses；　especially　so　in　the　King's　own。　But　they　aren't　unheard…of。〃　Under　guise　of　teaching　me　the　proper　care　of　a　saddle；　we　were　going　through　the　tack　room；　looking　over　all　the　old　and　unused　tack。　Maintaining　and　salvaging　old　tack　was　one　of　Burrich's　odder　fixations。　〃Devise　a　name　and　a　crest　for　yourself；　and　then　ask　the　King…〃
　　　　　　　〃What　name？〃
　　　　　　　〃Why；　any　name　you　like。　This　looks　like　it's　ruined；　someone　put　it　away　damp　and　it　mildewed。　But　we'll　see　what　we　can　do　with　it。〃
　　　　　　　〃It　wouldn't　feel　real。〃
　　　　　　　〃What？〃　He　held　an　armload　of　smelly　leather　out　toward　me。　I　took　it。
　　　　　　　〃A　name　I　just　put　to　myself。　It　wouldn't　feel　like　it　was　really　mine。〃
　　　　　　　〃Well；　what　do　you　intend　to　do；　then？〃
　　　　　　　I　took　a　breath。　〃The　King　should　name　me。　Or　you　should。〃　I　steeled　myself。　〃Or　my　father。　Don't　you　think？〃
　　　　　　　Burrich　frowned。　〃You　get　the　most　peculiar　notions。　Just　think　about　it　yourself　for　a　while。　You'll　e　up　with　a　name　that　fits。〃
　　　　　　　〃Fitz；〃　I　said　sarcastically；　and　I　saw　Burrich　clamp　his　jaw。
　　　　　　　〃Let's　just　mend　this　leather；〃　he　suggested　quietly。
　　　　　　　We　carried　it　to　his　workbench　and　started　wiping　it　down。　〃Bastards　aren't　that　rare；〃　I　observed。　〃And　in　town；　their　parents　name　them。〃
　　　　　　　〃In　town；　bastards　aren't　so　rare；〃　Burrich　agreed　after　a　moment。　〃Soldiers　and　sailors　whore　around。　It's　a　mon　way　for　mon　folk。　But　not　for　royalty。　Or　for　anyone　with　a　bit　of　pride。　What　would　you　have　thought　of　me；　when　you　were　younger；　if　I'd　gone　out　whoring　at　night；　or　brought　women　up　to　the　room？　How　would　you　see　women　now？　Or　men？　It's　fine　to　fall　in　love；　Fitz；　and　no　one　begrudges　a　young　woman　or　man　a　kiss　or　two。　But　I've　seen　what　it's　like　down　to　Bingtown。　Traders　bring　pretty　girls　or　well…made　youths　to　the　market　like　so　many　chickens　or　so　many　potatoes。　And　the　children　they　end　up　bearing　may　have　names；　but　they　don't　have　much　else。　And　even　when　they　marry；　they　don't　stop　their　。。。　habits。　If　ever　I　find　the　right　woman；　I'll　want　her　to　know　I　won't　be　looking　at　another。　And　I'll　want　to　know　all　my　children　are　mine。〃　Burrich　was　almost　impassioned。
　　　　　　　I　looked　at　him　miserably。　〃So　what　happened　with　my　father？〃
　　　　　　　He　suddenly　looked　weary。　〃I　don't　know；　boy。　I　don't　know。　He　was　young；　just　twenty　or　so。　And　far　from　home；　and　trying　to　shoulder　a　heavy　burden。　Those　are　neither　reasons　nor　excuses。　But　it's　as　much　as　either　of　us　will　ever　know。〃
　　　　　　　And　that　was　that。
　　　　　　　My　life　went　'round　in　its　settled　routine。　There　were　evenings　that　I　spent　in　the　stables；　in　Burrich's　pany；　and　more　rarely；　evenings　that　I　spent　in　the　Great　Hall　when　some　traveling　minstrel　or　puppet　show　arrived。　Once　in　a　great　while　I　could　slip　out　for　an　evening　down　in　town；　but　that　meant　paying　the　next　day　for　missed　sleep。　Afternoons　were　inevitably　spent　with　some　tutor　or　instructor。　I　came　to　understand　that　these　were　my　summer　lessons；　and　that　in　winter　I　would　be　introduced　to　the　kind　of　learning　that　came　with　pens　and　letters。　I　was　kept　busier　than　I　had　ever　been　in　my　young　life。　But　despite　my　schedule；　I　found　myself　mostly　alone。
　　　　　　　Loneliness。
　　　　　　　It　found　me　every　night　as　I　vainly　tried　to　find　a　small　and　cozy　spot　in　my　big　bed。　When　I　had　slept　above　the　stables　in　Burrich's　rooms；　my　nights　had　been　muzzy；　my　dreams　heathery　with　the　warm　and　weary　contentment　of　the　well…used　animals　that　slept　and　shifted　and　thudded　in　the　night　below　me。　Horses　and　dogs　dream；　as　anyone　who　has　ever　watched　a　hound　yipping　and　twitching　in　dream　pursuit　well　knows。　Their　dreams　had　been　like　the　sweet　rising　waft　from　a　baking　of　good　bread。　But　now；　isolated　in　a　room　walled　with　stone；　I　finally　had　time　for　all　those　devouring；　aching　dreams　that　are　the　portion　of　humans。　I　had　no　warm　dam　to　cozy　against；　no　sense　of　siblings　or　kin　stabled　nearby。　Instead　I　would　lie　awake　and　wonder　about　my　father　and　my　mother；　and　how　both　could　have　dismissed　me　from　their　lives　so　easily。　I　heard　the　talk　that　others　exchanged　so　carelessly　over　my　head；　and　interpreted　their　ments　in　my　own　terrifying　way。　I　wondered　what　would　bee　of　me　when　I　was　grown　and　old　King　Shrewd　dead　and　gone。　I　wondered；　occasionally；　if　Molly　Nosebleed　and　Kerry　missed　me；　or　if　they　accepted　my　sudden　disappearance　as　easily　as　they　had　accepted　my　ing。　But　mostly　I　a