Assassins Quest by Robin Hobb
A team of men had attached the revealed barge and were working it across the river to us. The bow was pointed into the current. The barge was tightly bridled to the pulley line; even so, the angry river strove to tear it loose and wash it downstream. It was not a large vessel. A wagon and team was going to be a snug fit. There were railings down the side of the barge, but other than that it was simply a flat, open deck. On our side, the ponies that Nik and his men had been riding had been harnessed to pull on the barge’s towline while on the other side a team of patient mules backed slowly toward the water. As the barge came slowly toward us, her bow rose and fell as the river pushed against it. The current foamed and churned around its sides, while an occasional dip of the bow allowed a surge of water to fly up and over. It was not going to be a dry ride across.
The pilgrims muttered amongst themselves anxiously, but one man’s voice suddenly rose to quell them. “What other choice do we have?” he pointed out. Thereafter silence fell. They watched the barge come toward us with dread.
Nik’s wagon and team were the first load across. Perhaps Nik did it that way to give the pilgrims courage. I watched as the barge was brought up snug to the old ramp and secured stern-in. I sensed the displeasure of his team, but also that they were familiar with this. Nik himself led them onto the barge and held their heads while two of his men scrambled about and tied the wagon down to the cleats. Then Nik stepped off, and waved his hand in signal. The two men stood, one by each horse’s head, as the mule team on the other side took up the slack. The barge was cast off and moved out into the river. Laden, it sat more deeply in the water, but it did not bob as freely as it had. Twice the bow lifted high and then plunged back deeply enough to take a wash of water over it. All was silence on our side of the river as we watched the barge’s passage. On the other side, it was pulled in and secured bow-first, the wagon was unfastened, and the men drove it off and up the hill.
“There. You see. Nothing to worry about. ” Nik spoke with an easy grin, but I doubted that he believed his own words.
A couple of men rode the barge back as it came across. They did not look happy about it. They clung to the railings and winced away from the flying spray off the river. Nevertheless they were both soaked by the time the barge reached our side and they stepped off. One man gestured Nik to one side and began to confer with him angrily, but he clapped him on the shoulders and laughed loudly as if it were all a fine joke. He held out his hand and they passed him a small pouch. He hefted it approvingly before hanging it from his belt. “I keep my word,” he reminded them, and then strode back to our group.
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The pilgrims went across next. Some of them wished to cross in the wagon, but Nik patiently pointed out that the heavier the load, the lower the barge rode in the river. He herded them onto the barge and made sure that each person had a good place to grip along the rail. “You, too,” he called, motioning to Kettle and Starling.
“I’ll go across with my cart,” Kettle declared, but Nik shook his head.
“Your mare isn’t going to like this. If she goes crazy out there, you don’t want to be on the barge. Trust me. I know what I’m doing. ” He glanced at me. “Tom? You mind riding across with the horse? You seem to handle her well. ”
I nodded, and Nik said, “There, now, Tom’ll see to your mare. You go on, now. ”
Kettle scowled, but had to own the sense of that. I helped her down, and Starling took her arm and walked her to the barge. Nik stepped onto the barge and spoke briefly to the pilgrims, telling them to simply hold on and not fear. Three of his men boarded the barge with them. One insisted on holding the smallest pilgrim child himself. “I know what to expect,” he told the anxious mother. “I’ll see she gets across. You just have a care to yourself. ” The little girl began to cry at that and her shrill wailing could be heard even over the rushing of the river water as the barge was pulled out onto the river. Nik stood beside me watching them go.
“They’ll be fine,” he said, as much to himself as to me. He turned to me with a grin. “Well, Tom, a few more trips and I’ll be wearing that pretty earring of yours. ”
I nodded to that silently. I’d given my word on the bargain but I was not happy about it.
Despite Nik’s words, I heard him sigh with relief when the barge reached the other side. The drenched pilgrims scuttled off even as the men were securing it. I watched Starling help Kettle off, and then some of Nik’s men hurried them up the bank and into the shelter of the trees. Then the barge was coming back to us again, bearing two more men. The pilgrims’ empty wagon went next, along with a couple of ponies. The pilgrims’ horses were not at all pleased. It took blindfolds and three men tugging to get them onto the barge. Once there and tied down, the horses still shifted as much as they could, snorting and shaking their heads. I watched them cross. On the other side, the team needed no urging to get the wagon swiftly off the barge. A man took the reins and the wagon rattled up the hill and out of sight.
The two men who rode back that time had the worst crossing yet. They were halfway across the river when an immense snag came in sight, bearing directly down on the barge. The clawing roots looked like a monstrous hand as the log bobbed in the fierce current. Nik shouted at our ponies and all of us sprang to help them haul on the rope, but even so the log struck the barge a glancing blow. The men on board yelled as the impact shook them from their grips on the railing. One was nearly flung off, but managed to catch a second post and hung on for dear life. Those two came off glaring and cursing, as if they suspected the mishap had been deliberate. Nik had the barge secured and himself checked all the lines fastening her to the pulley rope. The impact had knocked one railing loose. He shook his head over that, and warned his men about it as they drove the last wagon aboard.
Its crossing was no worse than any of the others. I watched with some trepidation, knowing that my turn was next. Fancy a bath, Nighteyes?
It will be worth it if there’s good hunting on the other side, he replied, but I could sense he shared my nervousness.
I tried to calm myself and Kettle’s mare as I watched them fasten the barge to the landing. I spoke soothingly to her as I led her down, doing all I could to assure her that she would be fine. She seemed to accept it, stepping calmly onto the scarred timbers of the deck. I led her out slowly, explaining it all as I went. She stood quietly as I tied her to a ring set in the deck. Two of Nik’s men roped the cart down fast. Nighteyes leaped on, then sank down, belly low, his claws digging into the wood. He didn’t like the way the river tugged at the barge greedily. Truth to tell, neither did I. He ventured over to crouch beside me, feet splayed.
“You go on across with Tom and the cart,” Nik told the soaked men who had already made one trip. “Me and my boys will bring our ponies on the last trip. Stay clear of that mare, now, in case she decides to kick. ”
They came aboard warily, eyeing Nighteyes almost as distrustfully as they watched the mare. They clustered at the back of the cart, and held on there. Nighteyes and I remained at the bow. I hoped we’d be out of reach of the mare’s hooves there. At the last moment, Nik declared, “I think I’ll ride this one over with you. ” He cast the barge off himself with a grin and a wave at his men. The mule team on the other side of the river started up, and with a lurch we moved out into the river.
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Watching something is never the same as doing it. I gasped as the first slashing spray of river water struck me. We were suddenly a toy in the clutches of an unpredictable child. The river rushed past us, tearing at the barge and roaring its frustration that it could not drag us free. The furious water near deafened me. The barge took a sudden plunge and I found myself gripping the railing as a surge of water flowed over the deck and clutched at my ankles in passing. The second time a plume of water smacked up from the bow and drenched us all, the mare screamed. I let go of my grip of the railing, intending to take hol
I will never know what the man intended. Perhaps to club me with the pommel of his knife. I caught the motion from the corner of my eye and turned to face him just as the barge gave another lurch. He missed me and staggered forward against the mare. The horse, already anxious, panicked into a frenzy of kicking. She threw her head wildly, slamming it against me so that I staggered away. I had almost caught my balance when the man made another flailing try at me. On the back of the cart, Nik was struggling with another man. He angrily shouted something about his word and his honor. I ducked my attacker’s blow just as a crash of water came over the bow. The force of it washed me toward the center of the barge. I caught hold of a cartwheel and clung there, gasping. I clawed my sword half-free just as someone else grabbed me from behind. My first attacker came at me, grinning, his knife blade-first this time. Suddenly a wet furry body streaked past me. Nighteyes hit him squarely in the chest, slamming him back against the railing.
I heard the crack of the weakened post. Slowly, so slowly, wolf, man, and railing went tipping toward the water. I lunged after them, dragging my assailant with me. As they went in, I managed to catch both the shattered remains of the post and Nighteyes’ tail. I sacrificed my sword to do it. My grip was only on the end of his tail but I held on. His head came up, his front paws scrabbled frantically against the edge of the barge. He started to climb back on.
Then a booted foot came down with a smash on my shoulder. The dull ache in it exploded. The next boot caught me in the side of the head. I watched my fingers fly open, saw Nighteyes spun away from me, snatched by the river and borne off.
“My brother!” I cried aloud. The river swallowed my words, and the next slosh of water over the deck drenched me and filled my mouth and nose. When the water passed, I tried to get to my hands and knees. The man who had kicked me knelt beside me. I felt the press of his knife against my neck.
“Just stay where you are, and hold on,” he suggested grimly. He turned and yelled back at Nik. “I’m doing this my way!”
I did not answer. I was questing out savagely, putting all my strength into reaching after the wolf. The barge surged under me, the river roared past, and I was drenched by spray and waves. Cold. Wet. Water in my mouth and nose, choking. I couldn’t tell where I ended and Nighteyes began. If he still existed at all.
The barge scraped suddenly against the ramp.
They were clumsy in getting me to my feet on the other side. The one removed his knife before the second man had a good grip on my hair. I came up fighting, caring nothing for anything else they might do to me now. I radiated hate and fury and the panicky horses followed my lead. One man went down close enough to the mare that one of her hooves stove in his ribs. That left two, or so I thought. I shouldered one into the river. He managed to catch hold of the barge and clung there while I choked his companion. Nik shouted what sounded like a warning. I was squeezing his throat and bashing his head on the deck when the others fell on me. These ones wore their brown and gold openly. I tried to make them kill me, but they didn’t. I heard other cries from far up the hillside and thought I recognized Starling’s voice raised in anger.
After a time, I lay trussed on the snowy riverbank. A man stood guard over me with a drawn sword. I didn’t know if he threatened me, or if he was charged with keeping the others from killing me. They stood in a circle, staring down at me avidly, like a pack of wolves who had just brought down a deer. I didn’t care. Frantically, I quested out, caring nothing for anything they might do to me. I could sense that somewhere he fought for his life. My sense of him grew fainter and fainter as he put all his energies into simply surviving.
Nik was suddenly flung down beside me. One of his eyes was starting to puff shut and when he grinned at me, blood stained his teeth. “Well, here we are, Tom, on the other side of the river. I said I’d bring you here, and here we are. I’ll take that earring now, as we agreed. ”
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My guard kicked him in the ribs. “Shut up,” he growled.
“This wasn’t the agreement,” Nik insisted when he could take a breath.
He looked up at them all, tried to choose one to speak to. “I had a deal with your captain. I told him I’d bring him this man, and in return, he offered me gold and safe passage. For me and the others. ”
The sergeant gave a bitter laugh. “Well, it wouldn’t be the first deal Captain Mark made with a smuggler. Odd. Not a one of them ever profited us, hey, boys? And Captain Mark, he’s down the river a way now, so it’s hard to tell just what he promised you. Always liked his glory shows, did Mark. Well, now he’s gone. But I know what my orders are, and that’s to arrest all smugglers and bring them back to Moonseye. I’m a good soldier, I am. ”
The sergeant stooped down and relieved Nik of the pouch of gold, and his own pouch as well. Nik struggled, and lost some blood in the process. I did not bother watching much of it. He’d sold me to Regal’s guards. And how had he known who I was? Pillow talk with Starling, I told myself bitterly. I had trusted, and it had brought me what it always did. I did not even turn to look when they dragged him away.
I had but one true friend, and my foolishness had cost him. Again. I stared up at the sky and reached out of my body, threw my senses as wide as I could, questing, questing. I found him. Somewhere, his claws scrabbled and scratched at a steep and icy bank. His dense coat was laden with water, heavy with it so he could scarcely keep his head up. He lost his purchase, the river seized him again, and once more he spun around in it. It pulled him under and held him there, then threw him suddenly to the surface. The air he gasped in was laden with spray. He had no strength left.
Try! I commanded him. Keep trying!
And the fickle current flung him again against a riverbank, but this one was a tangle of dangling roots. His claws caught in them, and he hauled himself high, scrabbling at them as he choked out water and gasped in air. His lungs worked like bellows.
Get out! Shake off!
He gave me no answer at all, but I felt him haul himself out. Little by little, he gained the brushy bank. He crawled out like a puppy, on his belly. Water ran from him, forming a puddle around him where he cowered. He was so cold. Frost was already forming on his ears and muzzle. He stood up and tried to shake. He fell over. He staggered to his feet again and tottered a few more steps from the river. He shook again, water flying everywhere. The action both lightened him and stood his coat up. He stood, head down, and gagged out a gush of river water. Find shelter. Curl up and get warm, I told him. He was not thinking very well. The spark that was Nighteyes had almost winked out. He sneezed violently several times, then looked around himself. There, I urged him. Under that tree. Snow had bent the evergreen’s fronds almost to the ground. Beneath the tree was a little hollow, thickly floored with shed needles. If he crept in there, and curled up, he might get warm again. Go on, I urged him. You can make it. Go on.
“I think you kicked him too hard. He’s just staring at the sky. ”
“Did you see what that woman did to Skef? He’s bleeding like a pig. He popped her a good one back. ”
“Where’d the old one go? Did anyone find her?”
“She won’t get far in this snow, so don’t worry about it. Wake him up and get him on his feet. ”
“He’s not even blinking his eyes. He’s hardly even breathing. ”
“I don’t care. Just take him to the Skill-wizard. After that, he’s not our problem. ”
I knew guards dragged me to my feet, I knew I was walked up the hill. I paid no attention to that body. Instead, I shook myself again, and then crept under the tree. There was just room to curl myself up. I put my tail over my nose. I flicked my ears a few times to shake the last of the water from them. Go to sleep now. Everything’s fine. Go to sleep. I closed his eyes for
I lifted my head and looked out of my own eyes. I was walking up a trail, with a tall Farrow guard on either side of me. I didn’t need to look back to know that others followed. Ahead of us, I saw Nik’s wagons, pulled up in the shelter of the trees. I saw his men sitting on the ground with their hands bound behind them. The pilgrims, still dripping, huddled around a fire. Several guards stood around their group as well. I didn’t see Starling or Kettle. One woman clutched her child to her and wept noisily over his shoulder. The boy did not appear to be moving. A man met my eyes, then turned aside to spit on the ground. “It’s the Witted Bastard’s fault we’ve come to this,” I heard him say loudly. “Eda scowls upon him! He tainted our pilgrimage!”
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They marched me to a comfortable tent pitched in the lee of some great trees. I was shoved through the tent flaps and pushed down onto my knees on a thick sheepskin rug on an elevated wooden floor. One guard kept a firm grip on my hair as the sergeant announced, “Here he is, sir. The wolf got Captain Mark, but we got him. ”
A fat brazier of coals gave off a welcome heat. The interior of the tent was the warmest place I’d been in days. The sudden heat almost stupefied me. But Burl did not share my opinion. He sat in a wooden chair on the other side of the brazier, his feet outstretched toward it. He was robed and hooded and covered over with furs as if there were nothing else between him and the night cold. He had always been a large-framed man; now he was heavy as well. His dark hair had been curled in imitation of Regal’s. Displeasure shone in his dark eyes.
“How is it that you aren’t dead?” he demanded of me.
There was no good answer to that question. I merely looked at him, expression bland, walls tight. His face flushed suddenly red and his cheeks appeared swollen with his anger. When he spoke, his voice was tight. He glared at the sergeant.