There was nothing to say about that. I feared it was all true. “Eat something,” I suggested. “How’s your leg now?”

He lifted the blanket to inspect it casually. “Still there, anyway. I suppose I should be grateful for that. And better than it was this morning. The devil’s-club did draw out the infection. Chicken-brained as she is, the woman still knows her herbs.”

I did not need to ask to whom he referred. “Are you going to eat?” I prodded.

He set down his cup and took up a spoon. He tasted the soup Molly had set out, grudgingly nodded his approval. “So,” he observed between bites, “that was the girl. Molly.”

I nodded.

“Seemed a bit cool with you today.”

“A bit,” I said dryly.

Burrich grinned. “You’re as testy as she was. I imagine Patience did not speak well of me to her.”

“She doesn’t like drunks,” I told him bluntly. “Her father drank himself to death. But before he finished the job, he managed to make her life unpleasant for years. Beating her when she was smaller. Railing and berating her when she got too big to beat.”

“Oh.” Burrich carefully refilled his cup. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“She was sorry to live it.”

He looked at me levelly. “I did not do it, Fitz. Nor was I rude to her when she was here. I’m not even drunk. Not yet. So stuff your disapproval, and tell me what’s been going on at Buckkeep while I was away.”

So I stood and reported to Burrich, just as if he had a right to demand it. In a way, I suppose he did. He ate as I spoke. When I was finished, he poured himself more brandy and leaned back in his chair, holding it. He swirled the brandy in the cup, looked down at it, then up at me. “And Kettricken is with child, but neither the King nor Regal know of it yet.”

“I thought you were asleep.”

“I was. I half thought I’d dreamed that conversation. Well.” He downed the brandy. He sat up, swept the blanket off his leg. As I watched he deliberately bent his knee until the pulling flesh began to gap the wound open. I winced at the sight of it, but Burrich only looked thoughtful. He poured more brandy, drank it off. The bottle was half-gone. “So. I’m going to have to splint the leg straight, if I’m going to keep that closed.” He glanced up at me. “You know what I’ll need. Will you fetch it for me?”

“I think you should stay off it for a day or so. Give it a chance to rest. You don’t need a splint if you’re in bed.”

He gave me a long look. “Who guards Kettricken’s door?”

“I don’t think … I assume she has women who sleep in the outer chamber of her apartments.”

“You know he’ll try to kill her and the unborn child, as soon as he finds out.”

“It’s a secret still. If you start guarding her door, all will know.”

“By my count, five of us know. That’s no secret, Fitz.”

“Six,” I admitted ruefully. “The Fool surmised it some days ago.”

“Oh!” I had the satisfaction of seeing Burrich look shocked. “Well, at least that’s one tongue that won’t go wagging. Still, as you see, it won’t be secret long. Rumors will fly before the day’s out, mark my words. I guard her door this night.”

“Must it be you? Can’t you rest, and I will—”

“A man can die of failure, Fitz. Do you know that? Once, I told you, the fight isn’t over until you’ve won. This”—and he gestured at his leg in disgust—“this will not be my excuse for giving up. Shame enough for me that my prince went on without me. I shall not fail him here. Besides”—he gave a bark of sour laughter—“there’s not enough in the stables now to keep both Hands and me busy. And the heart for it has gone out of me. Now. Will you go get the splint works?”

So I did, and took them back to him, and helped him smear the wound with his salve before we wrapped it well and splinted it. He cut a pair of old trousers to go over the splint, and I helped him down the stairs. Then, despite his words, he went to Ruddy’s stall to see if his horse’s arrow wound had been cleaned and doctored. I left him there and went back up to the Keep. I wanted to speak to Kettricken, to let her know there would be a man on guard on her door that night, and why.

I knocked at her chamber door and was admitted by Rosemary. The Queen was indeed there, and a selection of her ladies. Most were working embroidery or small lap looms as they talked. The Queen herself had her window opened to the mild winter day and was looking out over the calm sea with a frown. She reminded me of Verity when he Skilled, and I suspected that much the same worries plagued her. I followed her gaze, and wondered, like her, where the Red-Ships would strike today, and what was going on up in Bearns. Useless to wonder. Officially, there was no word at all from Bearns. The rumors were that the coasts ran red with blood.