Assassin's Quest

Kettle's voice shook as she admitted, "I destroyed it, my lord. There were but five of us. My act left only three alive to the Skill, and they had experienced the physical death of one member and the … burning of myself. They were greatly weakened. I heard that they were released from their service to the Queen, and sought the road that once began in Jhaampe town. They never returned, but I do not think they survived the rigors of this road. I do not think they ever made a dragon such as we once used to dream about."

When Verity spoke, he did not seem to be replying to her words. "Neither my father nor either of his wives had coteries sworn to them. Nor my grandmother." His brow wrinkled. "Which queen did you serve, woman?"

"Queen Diligence, my king," Kettle said quietly. She was still kneeling on the hard stone.

"Queen Diligence reigned over two hundred years ago," Verity observed.

"She died two hundred twenty-three years ago," Starling interposed.

"Thank you, minstrel," Verity said dryly. "Two hundred twenty-three years ago. And you would have me believe you were coterie to her."

"I was, my lord. I had turned my Skill upon myself, for I wished to keep my youth and beauty. It was not regarded as an admirable thing to do, but most Skilled ones did it to some extent. It took me over a year to master my body. But what I had done, I did well. To this day, I heal swiftly. Most illnesses pass me by." She could not keep a note of pride from her voice.

"The legendary longevity of the coterie members," King Verity observed softly to himself. He sighed. "There must have been much in Solicity's books that Chivalry and I were never made privy to."

"A great deal." Kettle spoke with more confidence now. "It amazes me that, with as little training as you and FitzChivalry have, you have managed to come this far alone. And to carve a dragon alone? It is a feat for a song."

Verity glanced back at her. "Oh, come, woman, sit down. It pains me to see you kneel. Obviously there is much you can and should tell me." He shifted restlessly and glanced back at his dragon. "But while we are talking, I am not working."

"Then I shall say to you only what needs most to be said," Kettle offered. She clambered painfully to her feet. "I was powerful in the Skill. Strong enough to kill with it, as few are." Her voice halted, thickening. She took a breath and resumed. "That power is still within me. One strongly Skilled enough could open me to it again. I believe you have that strength. Though right now, you may not be able to master it. You have killed with the Skill, and that is a heinous thing. Even though the coterie member was not true to you, still, you had worked together. In killing him, you killed a part of yourself. And that is why you feel you have no Skill left to you. Had I my Skill, I could help you heal yourself."

Verity gave a small laugh. "I have no Skill, you have no Skill, but if we did, we could heal one another. Woman, this is like a tangle of rope with no ends. How is the knot to be undone, save with a sword?"

"We have a sword, my king. FitzChivalry. The Catalyst."

"Ah. That old legend. My father was fond of it." He looked at me consideringly. "Do you think he is strong enough? My nephew August was Skill-burned and never recovered. For him, I sometimes thought it a mercy. The Skill was leading him down a path ill-suited to him. I think I suspected then that Galen had done something to the coterie. But I had so much to do. Always so much to do."

I sensed my king's mind wavering. I stepped forward resolutely. "My lord, what is it you wish me to attempt?"

"I wish you to attempt nothing. I wish you to do. There. That is what Chade often said to me. Chade. Most of him is in the dragon now, but that is a bit I left out. I should put that in the dragon."

Kettle stepped closer to him. "My lord, help me to free my Skill. And I will help you to fill the dragon."

There was something in the way she said those words. She spoke them aloud before us all, yet I felt that only Verity truly knew what she said. At last, very reluctantly, he nodded. "I see no other way," he said to himself. "No other way at all."

"How am I to do a thing, when I don't even know what that thing is?" I complained. "My king," I added, at a rebuking look from Kettricken.

"You know as much as we do," Verity rebuked me quietly. "Kestrel's mind was burned with the Skill, by her own coterie, to condemn her to isolation for the rest of her life. You must use what Skill you have in any way you can, to try to break through the scarring."

"I have no idea how to begin," I began. But then Kettle turned and looked at me: There was pleading in her old eyes. Loss, and loneliness. And Skill-hunger that had built to the point at which it was devouring her from within. Two hundred and twenty-three years, I thought to myself. It was a long time to be exiled from one's homeland. An impossible time to be confined to one's own body. "But I will try," I amended my words. I put out my hand to her.