—Instructions to an assassin, unsigned

“I did not know how to stop them.” FitzVigilant stood very straight before an odd court of judgment. We had convened in Verity’s tower, where once my king had defended the Six Duchies coast from Red Ships, and where later Chade and Dutiful and I had done our best to master the Skill-magic with the limited information we had. How it had changed over the years! When first Verity had used it as a lookout over the water to help him focus his search for the Red Ships attacking us, it had been dusty and disused, a refuge for retired bits of furniture. The dark circular table in the center of the room now was warmly polished, and the chairs that surrounded it had high backs with carvings of bucks on them. I pitied whichever servants had carried the heavy furniture up all those spiraling stairs. Lant stood, and seated at the table were the king and queen, Lady Kettricken, Nettle, and myself.

Lady Rosemary and Ash were also there, dressed entirely in blue so dark it was almost black. They stood, motionless and silent, their backs to the wall. Waiting. Like sheathed blades.

Dutiful sighed. “I had hoped for better from them. I had hoped that when the conspirators were cut out of their ranks, something worthy of duty might remain among the Rousters. But it appears not.” He had been looking at his hands. Now he looked at Lant. “Did any of them threaten you in any way? Or give any sign that they had been aware of the plot to kill Lord Chade?”

Lant stood straighter. “When I rode with them, I was only partially aware of what had happened to Lord Chade and Prince FitzChivalry. If I had been better informed, I might have taken a different tack. And been more watchful and wary of all they did and said.”

“That’s valid,” King Dutiful concurred, and once again I thought it almost seemed as if Lant were on trial here rather than giving testimony that would decide the fate of the Rousters. Thick had been entrusted to a healer. He had already given a long and wandering account of his ill treatment at the hands of the men who were supposed to protect him. Then he had wanted his own bed. The steams had warmed him through but he was still coughing when he left us. Perseverance, very pale and nervous at being called to speak before such an august board, had corroborated all that Thick had recounted.

Queen Elliania spoke. She did not raise her voice but her clear words carried. “Sir, did you at any time outright forbid their ill behavior? Did you remind them that Thick was entrusted to their care?”

Lant paused to think, and my heart sank for him. He hadn’t. “I remonstrated with them. I pointed out that they should behave as befitted a guard company, especially when in a public place such as a tavern. It did little good. Shorn of their officers, they seemed to have no self-discipline.”

Dutiful’s brow furrowed. “But you never ordered them directly to cease their ill treatment of Thick?”

“I … did not.” He cleared his throat. “I was not sure I had that authority, sire.”

“If not you, then who?” the king said heavily. Lant did not reply. Dutiful sighed again. “You may go.”

Lant went, walking stiffly. Before he reached the door, I spoke. “If I may offer some words, my king?”

“You may.”

“I would point out that FitzVigilant arrived at Withywoods in poor condition owing to a severe beating he had taken in Buckkeep Town. And that he had been battered again, in both mind and body, when Withywoods was attacked.”

“His behavior is not being judged here, Prince FitzChivalry,” the king said, but as Lant reached the door, he shot me a look that was both ashamed and grateful. The guard on the door allowed him out. At a gesture from Dutiful, the guard followed Lant out the door and shut it behind him.

“Well. What shall we do with them?”

“Disband them. Flog those who mistreated Thick. Send them away in shame from Buck forever.” Elliania spoke dispassionately, and I had no doubt that in the Out Islands such would have been their fate.

“Not every man of them mistreated Thick. Find the ones who should bear the blame, and judge them individually.” Kettricken spoke quietly.

“But those who did not directly injure him did not oppose those who did!” Elliania objected.

The king shook his head. “There was no clear chain of command. Part of the fault must be borne by me. I should have directed FitzVigilant to take command of them and conveyed that to all.”

I spoke. “I doubt they would have accepted his authority. He has never soldiered. These men are the barrel-scrapings of the guard. Discarded by other guard units, they are the ones with the least self-discipline, ruled by the most ruthless and least honorable officers. At the least, disband them. Some will perhaps find places with other guard units. But keeping them as a company will only invite the worst from them.” I spoke for mercy in a calm voice. But privately, I planned to work a bit of the prince’s justice on the ones Thick had named to me.