The history of the six principalities is also the history of the "Zhanyuan" family that ruled the six countries.To fully describe this period of history, it must be traced back far before the establishment of the First Grand Duchy. At that time, the Zhanyuan family was an Outer Islander who launched an attack from the sea. They were pirates from the cold coast of the Outer Island. coastal area.But we don't know the names of these early ancestors. Of the first true king, all that remains is his name and some exaggerated legends.His name is very simple, it is called "Taker". Perhaps the tradition of naming in the family started from him, and the life and behavior of future generations will be shaped by his name.Folk belief held that these names were magically attached to newborns, and that the offspring of the royal family would never violate the virtues their names represented.Names passed through fire, drenched in sea, and sent into wind, to bind these chosen children of God.That's what they told us.It's a beautiful fantasy, and maybe there's been a ritual like this before, but history tells us it won't make a child stick to the virtues his name stands for...

My pen falters, slips from my stiff-knuckle fingers, and traces a worm-like trail across Federen's paper.I wasted another fine paper, and suspected that writing the work itself was a futile endeavor.I don't know if I'll be able to write this history, or if every page leaks a bitterness I thought was long gone.I thought all the resentment in my heart was healed, but every time the tip of my pen touched the paper, the blood of a wounded boy gurgled with the ink from the sea, and at last made me wonder if every carefully written black The letters are all scabs, beneath which lies a bloody, ancient wound.

In the past, whenever the topic of writing the history of the Six Duchies was discussed, Federon and Patience had responded so enthusiastically that I convinced myself that the effort was worthwhile.I convinced myself that writing would take my mind off my pain and help pass the time.But every time I think about a historical event, I just wake up layers of loneliness and loss in myself.I'm afraid that in the end I'll have to give up on this work entirely, or I'll have to rethink the things that made me who I am.So I start again and again and again, only to find that I'm writing about my beginnings and not the beginnings of the land.I don't even know who I'm trying to explain myself to.My whole life has been a web of secrets, and to this day it is not safe to tell those secrets.Shall I write them all on fine paper, Shall I bring nothing but fire and ashes?Maybe!

My memory can be traced back to when I was 6 years old. Before 6 years old, there was nothing but a blank gap, which I couldn't cross no matter how hard I tried.There was nothing before that day in Mooneye City, but from that day onwards everything started suddenly, full of strong colors and rich details that overwhelmed me.Sometimes the scene seems so complete that I wonder if it's really my memory.Do I recall it all from my own head, or do I hear it from someone else's repeated recounting?Countless kitchen maids, servants of all ranks, and legions of stable boys have all explained my origins to each other, perhaps a story I have heard too many times from too many people, so that in retrospect it It's like my own actual memory.Those elaborate details because a 6-year-old sees everything going on around him?Or is this memory so complete because of the overall vivid experience of the Skill, and the pain and craving drugs I later took to control my Skill addiction?This last point is most likely, even very likely.I hope that's not the case.

The memory is almost physical: the bitter gray haze as the daylight faded, the merciless rain that drenched me to the skin, even the rough, calloused hand that held my tiny hand.Sometimes I wonder about that grip.The hand was hard and thick, and it took my hand in it; but it was also a warm hand, and it didn't hold me roughly—just firm.It doesn't let me slip on the icy streets, but it doesn't let me escape my fate.The hand was non-negotiable, like the icy gray rain pouring over the trampled snow and ice of a gravel path outside the huge wooden gate of a fortified building, The eye city stands upright, like a fortress with a city outside the city.

The double wooden doors are not only very tall in the eyes of a 6-year-old boy, but they are tall enough to allow giants to pass through, enough to dwarf the tall and thin old man standing beside me.And these two doors seemed very strange to me, although now I can't think of what kind of door or house I felt familiar at that time.In short, those two doors with carved patterns, black iron hinges, deer head decorations, and shiny brass knockers were something I had never seen at that time.I remember the slush soaking through my clothes and my feet and legs being wet and cold, yet I have no recollection of walking long distances in the inclement weather before the end of winter or of being people hugging.No, it all started there, right in front of the huge double wooden doors, my little hand was tightly held by the tall and thin old man.

It was almost like the beginning of a puppet show.Yes, now I can see it that way.The curtain parted and we stood in front of the huge door.The old man raised the brass knocker and knocked once, twice, three times, making a loud knock.Then there was a voice from offstage, not from inside the door, but behind us, from the direction we had come from. "Dad, please." A woman's voice begged him.I turned to look at her, but the snow was falling again, covering eyelashes and coat sleeves like a lace veil.I don't remember seeing anyone at the time.I made sure I didn't try hard to break free from the old man's grip on my hand, and I didn't call out "Mom, Mom."I just stood there, like a spectator, and heard the sound of boots coming from inside the fort, and then the snap of the latch on the inside of the door.

She yelled one last time.I can still hear that voice clearly now, a voice that sounds so young to me now, full of despair. "Dad, please, I beg you!" The hand that held me was trembling, but whether the trembling was due to anger or other emotions, I will never know.Like a crow flying to snatch a piece of bread off the ground, the old man bent down quickly and grabbed a piece of frozen dirty snow, and threw it out without saying a word. I stood beside me and flinched.I don't remember hearing the sound of crying or snow hitting people, but I only remember that the door was pushed open all of a sudden, and the old man hurriedly pulled me back.

One more point: if this was just a story I'd heard, I might have imagined that the person who opened the door was a domestic servant, but it wasn't.No, what memory presents to me is a soldier in full armor, a warrior, with a bit of gray hair, more fat on his belly than muscles, not some pretentious domestic servant.He looked the old man and me up and down with military-trained skepticism, then stood there without saying a word, waiting for us to declare our purpose. I suppose it embarrassed the old man a little, but it was not fear but anger that aroused in him.He suddenly let go of my hand, grabbed the back of my coat and pulled me forward, like handing a puppy to a potential new buyer. "I bring you the baby," he said in a hoarse voice.

The guard continued to stare at him without criticism, not even curiosity.So the old man explained further. "I have raised him for six years, and his father never said half a yu, never gave him a dime, never came to see him once, even though my daughter told me that he knew he planted a wild seed on her .I don't plan to keep him anymore, and I don't want to plow the fields for his clothes. Whoever sows the seeds should raise them. My own family is enough for me. My wife is getting old. This child My mother also depends on me to live, because now there is such a little paparazzi running around her feet, no man wants to marry her. So you take him to his father!" Then he suddenly Let go, and I fall on the stone steps at the guard's feet.I sat up quickly, unhurt as far as I could remember, and looked up to see what was going on between these two.

The guard looked down at me, his lips pursed slightly, not to express criticism, but to think about how to classify me. "Whose species?" The tone of his question was not out of curiosity, but just asking for more detailed information to report back to the officer. "It's a horseman." The old man said and turned away from me, stepping cautiously on the gravel path. "Prince Horseman." He didn't look back when he raised the top street. "My lord, this is his seed, so let him raise it! At least he finally has a child, and he should be happy." The guard watched the old man walking away for a while, then without saying a word, he bent over and grabbed me by the collar, pulling me out of the way so that he could close the door.He let go of me, closed the door quickly, and stood there looking down at me.He wasn't really surprised, just accepted the weirder parts of his job with a military attitude. "Get up, boy, and go on," he said. So I followed him down a long, dimly lit corridor, past austere, almost undecorated rooms, the shutters of which were still closed against the winter; and at last came to another closed door, The double doors are of a rich and rich wood, and are decorated with carved flowers.Here he paused for a moment, arranging his attire and appearance.I remember quite well that he got down on one knee and straightened my shirt and smoothed my hair with a rough pat or two, but was he doing it out of good intentions and trying to make me look good? Impression, or because I just want to make what I bring look good, I have no way of knowing.He stood up again, knocked on the door, and didn't wait for the people inside to respond, at least I didn't hear any response, he pushed the door open, drove me in front of him, and then closed the door behind him. Whereas the previous corridor was cold, this room was warm; where earlier rooms were empty, this room was full of life.I remember that there was much furniture in the room, felts and hangings, shelves full of tablets and scrolls, and odds and ends, as is the case with any frequently used and comfortable room.A fire burned in the massive fireplace, filling the room with warmth and the pleasant smell of trees.A large desk was placed at an angle by the fireplace, and behind it sat a stocky man, frowning and bending over a pile of papers spread out in front of him.He didn't look up right away, so I was able to study his rather thick tousled black hair for a while. At last he looked up, black eyes that seemed to take me and the guards over with a single glance. "What's the matter, Jason?" he asked, and even I, who was very young at the time, could hear the helplessness in his tone when he was interrupted by annoying chores. "what is this?" The guard nudged me on the shoulder and pushed me a foot or so closer to the man. "Prince Verity, this child was brought by an old farmer. He said it was the bastard son of Prince Rider." For a brief moment, the disturbed man sitting behind the desk looked at me in bewilderment.Then with a bright look on his face, which was very close to an amused smile, he stood up and walked around the table, with his hands clenched on his hips, standing there looking down at me.I didn't feel threatened by his scrutiny; in fact, there seemed to be something about my looks that he found very pleasant.I looked up at him curiously.He had a short black beard, as thick and tousled as his hair, with weather-beaten cheeks and bushy eyebrows above his black eyes.His chest was thick, his shoulders were tight against the fabric of his shirt, his heavy fists were scarred, and the fingers of his right hand were stained with ink.He stared at me, his smile widened and he finally broke out laughing out loud. "Dude," he said at last, "this kid sure looks a lot like Jun, doesn't he? By God Ada, who would have believed my famous and self-respecting brother would do such a thing? " The guard didn't answer, and the man certainly didn't expect him to.He continued to stand there stiffly, waiting for the next order.A soldier of soldiers. The man continued to stare at me curiously. "How old?" he asked the guard. "The farmer said he was six years old." The guard raised his hand and scratched his cheek, and then seemed to suddenly remember that he was reporting to the officer, so he quickly put down his hand, "My lord," he added. The man didn't seem to notice the guard's undisciplined movements.The black eyes scanned me up and down, and the interest in the smile deepened. "So, counting the time of the big belly, the total is about 7 years. Yes, that's right, that was the first year when the Qiwuda people wanted to close the pass. Junqi stayed here for three or four months, forcing them to open the pass. It seems It's not just a pass that he's forced out of. Boy, who would have thought he would do such a thing?" He paused, "Who's Mom?" He asked suddenly. The guard moved uneasily. "I don't know, my lord. There is only the old farmer at the door. He only said that this is the illegitimate son of Prince Junqi. He said that he didn't want to raise him anymore and gave him clothes. He also said that whoever sows the seed should raise it." The man shrugged as if it didn't matter. "The baby looks well taken care of. I bet it won't be a week, two weeks at the most, and she'll be at the kitchen door crying because she misses her little paparazzi. If I don't find out who she is first , I will know by then. Hey, boy, what do they call you?" The belt that fastened his leather vest had an intricate deer's head forming a buckle, changing color from brass to gold to red in response to the flickering fire in the fireplace. "Boy," I said.I don't know if I was just repeating what he and the guards called me, or if I really have no other name.The man looked surprised for a moment, and there was a look of pity on his face, but that look quickly disappeared, leaving only embarrassment or a little unhappy expression.He glanced back at the map still waiting for him on the table. "Well," he said, breaking the silence, "we have to take care of him first, at least until Jun comes back. Jason, make arrangements so that this kid has something to eat and a place to sleep at least tonight. I'll come back tomorrow to think about getting him." What to do. We can't let the illegitimate children of the royal family run around everywhere in the countryside!" "Yes, my lord." Jason's reply neither expressed agreement nor objection, but just accepted the order.He put a heavy hand on my shoulder and told me to turn around and walk towards the door.My steps hesitated a bit, because the room was bright and comfortable and warm, my cold feet were already itching, and I knew that if I could stay longer, I would be completely warm.But I couldn't disobey the guard's hand, I could only let him lead me out of the warm room and back to the gloomy and dark corridors. Coming out of the warm and bright room, the corridor seemed darker, and it seemed that there was no end to it. The guard strode through one corridor after another, and I tried to keep up with his pace.Maybe it was me whining, or maybe he was impatient with my slow pace, but he turned and grabbed me suddenly, and sat me on his shoulder with ease; as if I were weightless. . "You wet little pup," he said without resentment, beckoning me down the corridor, around the corner, up and down stairs, and finally into a large kitchen with yellow lights. There were six or seven other guards sitting on benches, eating and drinking at a large scuffed table behind which a fire was twice as big as that in the previous study.The kitchen smelled of food and beer, of men's sweat, of damp woolen laundry, of wood smoke and grease dripping into the flames.The walls are lined with large and small wooden barrels, pieces of dark bacon with bones are hanging from the beams and rafters, and the big table is full of food and cups and plates.A large piece of meat on the spit had been pulled from the fire, and the fat was dripping onto the stone hearth.The rich aroma makes my stomach suddenly cringe.Jason placed me firmly on the corner of the table closest to the fire and shook the elbow of a man whose face was buried in a glass. "Hey, Burrich, this little paparazzi is yours now." He turned and walked away, and I watched with interest as he broke off a piece of bread the size of his fist from a loaf of dark bread and pulled it out of his belt. The knife cut off the corner of a round of cheese, he stuffed the bread and cheese into my hand, then went to the fire and began to carve enough for a grown man from the big bone-in piece of meat.I wasted no time in stuffing the bread and cheese into my mouth as the man next to me named Burrich put down his glass and glared back at Jason. "What is this?" He said this in a tone very similar to that of the man in the warm room.He also had scraggly black hair and a beard, but his face was long and narrow and angular, the color of someone who spent a lot of time outdoors.His eyes were more brown than black, his fingers were long and his hands seemed mobile, and he smelled of horses and dogs and blood and feathers. "He's in your charge, Burrich. Prince Verity said so." "why?" "You're the horseman, aren't you? Responsible for his horses and his hounds, falcons?" "so?" "So, his little illegitimate child is also yours, at least until Junqi comes back and decides what to do with him." Jason handed me the thick piece of meat that was still dripping with oil, and I looked at the meat in his hand. I looked at the bread and the cheese in my hand. I didn't want to put them down, but I really wanted to eat that piece of hot meat.Seeing my dilemma, he shrugged and put the meat casually on the table next to me. I stuffed as much bread as I could into my mouth and moved my body to look at the meat. Jason shrugged and was busy arranging bread, cheese and meat for himself. "That's what the old farmer who brought him said." He put the meat and cheese on a thick slice of bread, took a big bite with his mouth open, and said as he chewed, "He said that if Junqi finally had a child, he should I'm happy, now I should raise and take care of him myself." An unusual silence suddenly filled the entire kitchen, and the men stopped suddenly in the middle of eating, with bread or cups or wooden trays in their hands, all looking at the man named Burrich.He carefully placed the cup not too close to the table, his voice was quiet and steady, and his words were clear. "If my master has no heirs, it is Ada's will, not because he is unmanly. Lady Patience has always been delicate, and—" "That's right!" Jason quickly agreed. "Now the evidence is sitting here that there's nothing wrong with his manliness, that's all I mean." He wiped his mouth hastily with his sleeve. "It looks so much like Prince Junqi, even his younger brother said so just now. It's not the crown prince's fault that Mrs. Patience couldn't let his seeds bloom and bear fruit..." Burrich stood up suddenly, and Jason took a step or two back before realizing that Burrich was targeting me, not him.Burrich grabbed my shoulders and turned me to face the firelight.He held my chin firmly in one hand, and lifted my face towards him. I was so startled that I dropped the bread and cheese in my hand, but he ignored it and studied my face by the firelight, as if I were a map.He looked into my eyes, and there was something wild in those eyes, as if he saw something in my face that hurt him.I wanted to shrink back to avoid that look, but his hands held me so tightly that I couldn't retreat, so I tried to look rebellious and stared back at him, and saw a look of hesitation and surprise suddenly appearing on his unhappy face .Finally he closed his eyes, as if to block some kind of pain. "This will greatly test the limits of Madam's will and patience," Burrich said softly. He let go of my chin, stooped stiffly to pick up the bread and cheese I had dropped on the floor, patted the dust off them and handed them back to me.I stared at his right leg, which was heavily bandaged from calf to knee, preventing him from bending when he bent over.He sat down again, picked up the jug on the table, filled the glass, took another sip, and looked at me over the rim of the glass. "Who did Junqi give birth to this child?" A man sitting at the other end of the table asked without knowing the seriousness. Burrich put down his glass and turned his eyes to the man.For a moment he didn't speak, and I felt the silence hovering over me again. "I think who the mother of this child is is a matter for the riding prince, not for other people to chat in the kitchen," Burrich said gently. "That's right!" The guard quickly agreed, and Jason nodded like a courting bird.Even though I was young, I was surprised that I didn't know who this man was. Although he had a bandage on his leg, he could calm down a room of rude men with just a look or a word. "This kid doesn't have a name," Jason volunteered to break the silence, "just 'Boy'." The words seemed to choke everyone, even Burrich.I ate the bread, cheese, and meat in continual silence, and drank a sip or two of the beer Burrich handed me.The others left the kitchen in twos and threes, and he was still sitting there drinking and looking at me. "Well," he finally said, "if I'm right about your father, he'll face it and do what's right, but only Ida knows what he thinks is right. It's probably the most uncomfortable thing." He looked at me in silence for a while. "Have you had enough?" he asked at last. I nodded, he stood up stiffly, and carried me off the table. "Come on, Fitz," he said, walking out of the kitchen and down another corridor.His stiff leg made him look ugly, maybe it had something to do with his beer too much, but I had no trouble keeping up with him.Finally we came to a heavy door, and a guard nodded to let us through, looking at me like he wanted to swallow me up. There was a bitter cold wind blowing outside, and as night fell, the ice and snow that had melted and softened during the day were re-frozen.The pavement crunched under my feet, and the wind seemed to find its way into every crevice of my clothes.The fire in the kitchen had warmed my feet and trousers, but hadn't completely dried them, and now the chill gripped my legs.I remember the darkness outside, and I remember feeling suddenly tired, pulled by a dreadful drowsiness that almost made me cry, as I followed the man with the bandaged leg through the cold, dark courtyard.A high wall towered around us, and guards swayed from the top of the wall from time to time, and they were only visible when their dark shadows occasionally blocked the stars in the night sky.But there was something about Burrich that kept me from whining or begging him for mercy, so I followed him doggedly.We walked up to a building and he pulled open a heavy door. There was warmth from the open door, animal smells, a faint yellow light, and a sleepy stable boy sat up from the straw and blinked like a fledgling bird.Burrich nodded slightly, and fell asleep again, curling up in a small ball in the straw with his eyes closed.We walked past him, and Burrich closed the door, picked up the dimly lit kerosene lantern by the door, and led me on. And so I entered a different world, a world of night, with animals moving and breathing in the stables, and hounds looking up at me from their folded forelegs, their soft bright eyes watching in the light of lanterns. Come or green or yellow.We passed the stables, and there was a little commotion among the horses in the stables. "The falcon is at the innermost end," Burrich said as we passed from stable to stable.I listened and took it as something he thought I should know. "Here," he said finally. "It's all right here, at least for the time being. If I knew what else to do with you, I would be a ghost. If it weren't for Mrs. Patience's sorrow, I would think you were a good joke played by God and the master. Hey, sir Nose, come over a little, and let the child have a place to sleep in the straw. Yes, you just go over to the tigress, she will take you in, and if anyone tries to bother you, she will kill him hard." I was now facing a spacious stable with three hounds in it.They were already awake and on their feet, wagging their thick tails in the straw as they listened to Burrich's voice.I walked among them uncertainly, and finally lay down next to an old bitch, gray around her muzzle, and with a half-shaped ear.The older male dog looked at me with suspicious eyes, and the other half-sized puppy "Big Nose" welcomed me, licking my ears, nibbling my nose, and Scratching at me, I put an arm around it to quiet it down, then snuggled down between them as Burrich suggested, and he covered me with a hair-filled blanket. Thick blankets that smell.A big gray horse in the next stable started suddenly, kicked hard on the wooden wall, and then poked its head over to see how lively it was in the middle of the night.Burrich stroked it absently, to reassure him. "This is a remote stronghold. Everyone has to make do with it. You'll be much more comfortable when you get to Buckkeep. But you'll stay here tonight, warm and safe." He stood for a while longer, looked down at us. "Horses and hounds and falcons. I've looked after the stock for you, Rider, for years, and well; but you bastard, well, I don't know what to do with him." I know he's not talking to me.With my head stuck out of the blanket, I watched him pick up the lantern from the hook and saunter away, muttering to himself as he walked.I still vividly remember that night, the warmth of the hounds, the pricking of straw, and even the moment when I finally fell asleep next to my pup.I drifted into its mind and shared its vague dreams of endless chases with prey I never saw, but the sharp, strong smell made me run on, through nettles, brambles, gravel heap. After the hound dream, the accuracy of my memory faltered a bit, like the brightly colored and sharply outlined dreams of a drug.After the first night, the days that followed were not at all as clear in my mind. I remember those wet days towards the end of winter, when I learned how to get from the stables to the kitchen, and how I could come and go from the kitchen whenever I wanted.Sometimes a cook is there, hanging the meat on a hook on the stove, or kneading the dough, or stealing a drink from the wine barrel; more often than not, there is no cook in the kitchen, and I take my own food and put it on the table Confiscated anything and generously shared food with the pup who soon became inseparable from me.Men came in and out, ate and drank, and looked at me with curious eyes. I gradually regarded their eyes as normal.They all seemed to look alike, muscular and fluid in rough woolen cloaks and leggings, with a leaping stag emblazoned across the front.Some of them felt uncomfortable in my presence, and I got used to the murmurs and mutterings of a few people behind me whenever I left the kitchen. Burrich was a constant during those days, he took care of me like he took care of the animals on the horse, fed me, watered me, groomed me, exercised, and the exercise here was usually I followed him while he was doing other work. Running around.But these memories are vague, and details such as bathing and changing clothes have largely faded in my mind, because these things seem peaceful and normal to a 6-year-old child.Of course I remember that puppy with a big nose, it had smooth red hair, the short ones were a bit prickly, and when we slept under that horse blanket together at night, its hair would often go through my clothes and make me feel prickly.Its eyes were green as copper ore, its nose the color of boiled liver, and the lining of its mouth and tongue were pink flecked with black.We either ate in the kitchen or rolled in the yard or in the straw in the stables.I don't know how long I was there, but that's the world I was there; I don't think it was that long, because I don't remember a change in the weather.My memories of that time are all of cold, wet days with high winds, and snow and ice that melted a little during the day and then froze again at night. I remember another thing about that time, but the outlines of the memory are not sharp, but warm and soft, like seeing a rich old tapestry in a dimly lit room.I remember the pup writhing waking me up to see a lantern being held above me, glowing yellow.The two men leaned over me, but Burrich stood stiffly behind them, so I wasn't frightened. "You woke him up!" one of them warned.He was Prince Verity, the man I had seen that first night in that warm, bright room. "So what? He'll go back to sleep as soon as we're gone. Damn, he even has eyes like his father's. I bet you'll recognize his blood wherever you see him. But you and Burrich's Why is his head worse than a flea? Whether he is an illegitimate child or not, a child should not be kept with livestock! Do you really have no other place to put him?" The man who spoke had a jaw and eyes like Verity's, but otherwise nothing like it.He was much younger than Verity, with no beard on his cheeks, and his scented, smooth-combed hair was finer and brown.The bitter chill of the night had flushed his cheeks and forehead, but the red was new, not like Verity's weather-beaten flush.In addition, Verity's clothes were the same as his men's, which were tightly woven and subtly colored utilitarian wool, only the gold and silver embroidery on the front was brighter; The scarlet and light yellow, draped cloak is also fully twice as wide as the body needs in a normal bag.The bodice under the cloak was rich cream and trimmed with lace, and the silk scarf around her neck was fastened with a gold brooch in the shape of a leaping stag, whose eyes were set with a shimmering green gemstone.He spoke with careful words that compared with Verity's simple words were like complex golden chains compared with simple links. "Regal, I haven't thought about this at all. How do I know about raising a child? I handed him over to Burrich, who is under Junqi, so I just take care of him..." "I didn't mean to be disrespectful to the royal blood, my lord." Borui was really confused. "I am Junqi's subordinate, and I will take care of this child in the best way I think. I can get him a floor in the guard room, but he seems too young to be with them, because they In and out all day and night, fighting and drinking loudly." It was clear from the tone of his voice that he didn't like being around those people. "He sleeps more peacefully here, and the puppy loves him too, and my tigress watches him all night, and anyone who tries to hurt him gets bitten. Two adults, I don't know much about it myself How to bring up a child, it seemed to me at the time—" "It's all right, Burrich, it's all right," Verity cut him off quietly. "Even if this matter needs to be considered, I am the one who should think about it, not you. I have entrusted this matter to you, and I don't intend to make trouble now. Ada, he is better than the people in this village. A lot of kids are doing much better and it's okay to put him here for now." "It will have to be different when he comes back to Buckkeep." Regal sounded unhappy. "So father wants us to take him back to Buckkeep?" It was Verity who asked. "Our father wanted it that way, but my mother didn't want it." "Oh." Verity's tone suggested he had no interest in further discussing the point, but Regal continued, frowning. "My queen mother was not at all happy about this, and she spent a lot of time advising the king, but to no avail. Both my mother and I agreed that it would be wiser to leave this child ... aside. The order of succession to the throne has already Enough chaos, no need for additional chaos." "I don't see any confusion now, Regal," Verity said evenly. "First Junqi, then me, then you, and then our cousin Weiyi. This illegitimate child will only be ranked fifth." “我很清楚你排在我前面，你不需要一有机会就把这件事拿出来耀武扬威。”帝尊冷冷地说，低头怒视着我。“我还是认为最好不要把他放在身边。万一耐辛到最后还是没有给骏骑生合法的继承人怎么办？万一他决定要承认这个……小孩怎么办？如此一来可能会造成贵族之间的分裂。我们何必找这个麻烦？母亲和我都是这么说的。但我们都知道，我们的父王不是个行事匆促的人；平民百姓都说，看黠谋做什么事就知道黠谋是什么样的人。他禁止我们私下敲定解决这件事情。'帝尊，'他用他那种口气说，'不要做你无法撤回的事，除非你已经先考虑过你一旦做了它之后就无法做什么。'然后他哈哈大笑。”帝尊也短促苦涩地笑了一声，“我真是受够了他的幽默感。” “哦。”惟真简短地应答。我躺着不动，心想，不知道他是正在努力要想通国王的那句话，还是制止自己回应弟弟的抱怨。 “你当然能看出他这么做的原因。”帝尊告诉他。 “原因是？” “他还是偏心骏骑。”帝尊的口气充满厌恶。“尽管他做出这一切，尽管他结了个愚蠢的婚、娶了个怪异的妻子，尽管他搞出这个烂摊子。现在他认为这件事能改变民心，让人民对他产生好感，也能证明骏骑是个男人，生得出孩子。或者说证明他也是人，跟其他人一样都会犯错。”帝尊的语调泄漏出他对这几点都很不同意。 “这会让人民更喜欢他，更支持他当未来的国王吗？因为他在娶妻之前跟某个野女人生了个孩子？” 从惟真的语气听来，这种逻辑令他相当困惑。 我听出帝尊的声音里泛着酸。“国王似乎就是这么想的。他难道不在乎这件事会让王室蒙羞吗？但我猜骏骑不会希望把他的私生子拿来派上这种用场，尤其是因为这件事跟亲爱的耐辛有关系，可是国王已经下令，要你们回公鹿堡的时候把私生子一起带回去。”帝尊低头看着我，一副大为不满的样子。 惟真短暂出现困扰的神色，但他仍点点头。博瑞屈脸上笼罩了一层阴影，是提灯的黄色灯光无法赶走的。 “我主人对这件事难道一点发言的余地都没有吗？”博瑞屈大胆表示异议。“我觉得，如果他想拨一笔钱给这小孩母亲的家人、把他撇到一边去，那么，为了不伤耐辛夫人的心，他当然应该可以这样周到谨慎的——” 帝尊王子轻蔑地哼了一声，打断他的话：“他早在上那个女人之前就应该周到谨慎了。耐辛夫人又不是全天下第一个必须面对她丈夫私生子的女人。因为惟真处理不当，这里每个人都知道他的存在，现在再把他藏起来也没用了。而且，博瑞屈，既然事关王室私生子，我们没有谁能光顾着不伤感情就好。把这样一个小孩留在这种地方，就像是留下一把武器在国王的脖子上晃来晃去，这一点连养狗的人都看得出来吧！就算你看不出来，你主人也看得出来。” 帝尊的声音里多了冰冷严厉的意味，先前我从没看过博瑞屈对任何东西显得畏缩，现在却看到帝尊的这番话让他一阵瑟缩。这使我感到害怕，我把毯子拉起来盖住头，往稻草堆深处钻，我身旁的母老虎喉咙深处发出轻微的嗥叫声，我猜帝尊因此后退了几步，但我不确定。不久后他们就离开了，就算他们又多说了什么，我也完全不复记忆。 日子一天天过去，我想是两三个星期之后，我发现自己双手紧抓着博瑞屈的皮带坐在他身后，试着用我短短的腿夹住胯下的马身，离开那个寒冷的村镇，往南朝较温暖的地区前进。那段旅程长得似乎永无止境。现在想起来，骏骑一定曾在某个时候来看过他的这个私生子，在关于我的这件事情上对他自己做出了某种判决。但我不记得有跟我父亲见过面，我脑海中对他唯一的印象，是来自挂在公鹿堡墙上一幅他的画像。很多年之后我了解到，当时他的外交政策发挥了非常好的效果，其缔结的条约及达成的和平一直延续到我十几岁的时候，也赢得了齐兀达人对他的尊敬甚至喜爱。 事实上，我是他那一年唯一的失败，但却是项重大的失败。他赶在我们之前回到公鹿堡，宣布放弃王位继承权，等我们抵达的时候，他和耐辛夫人已经离开宫廷，以细柳林爵士与爵士夫人的身份迁出公鹿堡。我去过细柳林，这地名跟实景毫无关连。那是一处温暖的河谷，中央有一条和缓的河流穿过一片广袤平原，两旁是和缓起伏的山丘，适合种植葡萄和谷物，适合生养胖嘟嘟的小孩。这是个柔和的居处，远离边界，远离宫廷政治，远离任何骏骑到那时为止的生活重心。对于一个本来会成为国王的男人，这等于是将他放牧到远处，是一种温和又不失身份的放逐，等于是用天鹅绒闷住一名战士，让一个具有鲜见才华的外交家从此无言。 就这样，我来到了公鹿堡，是一个我从没见过的男人的独生子也是私生子。惟真王子成了王储，帝尊王子在王位继承的顺序上前进了一步。就算我这辈子除了出生和被发现之外什么都没做，也已经在整片国土上留下了长远的痕迹。我无父无母地在宫廷中成长，宫中所有的人都视我为某种造成刺激的催化剂。而我也确实变成了催化剂。