Fool's Fate Part 50

I groped out with the Skill. I could barely focus enough to wield it, and when I found Thick's music and then Thick, he was already in contact with Dutiful and Chade. I tried to break in and could not. Their thoughts rattled against mine. They did not seem to be pa.s.sing information, but attempting some Skill-exercise. I became aware of Nettle, floating like a faint perfume. She caught at their circle, almost held, then wafted away again. In the disappointed silence that followed her failed attempt, I found a place for my faint Skilling.

Thick. I'm not well. Can you come to meet me at the Witness Stones? Bring a pony, or even a donkey and cart. I'm not sure I could sit up to ride. I have two large sacks of scrolls.

I felt a wordless blast of amazement from all of them. And then, a pelting of questions: Where are you? Where are you?

Where have you been?

Are you hurt? Were you attacked by something?

Held prisoner?

I just came through the stones. I'm weak. Sick. Prilkop said, don't use the stones too often. And then I let it go, feeling wretchedly nauseous and dizzy. I lay down on my side in the gra.s.s. The morning was cold, and I pulled one of the blanket sacks half over me and lay still, shivering. And then I let it go, feeling wretchedly nauseous and dizzy. I lay down on my side in the gra.s.s. The morning was cold, and I pulled one of the blanket sacks half over me and lay still, shivering.

They all came. I heard sounds and opened my eyes and found myself looking at Nettle's shoes and riding skirt. A healer annoyed me by feeling me all over for broken bones and peering into my eyes. He asked if I had been attacked. I managed to shake my head. Chade said, "Ask him where he has been for the last month. We have been expecting these scrolls since before we arrived back at Buckkeep." I closed my eyes and held my tongue. Then the healer and his helper lifted me into the back of a cart. The bundles of scrolls were placed beside me. The cart lurched off down the tussocky hillside. Chade and Dutiful rode on one side of it, looking grave. Thick came behind on a stocky pony, managing it well enough. Nettle rode a mare, obviously one of Burrich's breeding. Several mounted guards followed, with the edgy look of men who had expected to confront at least a minor enemy and still had dwindling hopes of a skirmish. I had said little, fearing to say too much before ears that should not hear it.

My mind churned like a team stuck in mud. It dragged out the old legends of standing stones. Lovers fled angry parents into them, and returned a year or a decade later, to find all grievances forgotten. They were the gates to the land of the Pecksies, where a year might pa.s.s as a day. Or a day as a year. I recalled, hazily, my time in the starry blackness. How much time had pa.s.sed? A few weeks? Chade had mentioned a month. Obviously enough time had pa.s.sed that they had returned to Buckkeep from Mayle. For here they were. I smiled faintly at that "swift" leap of logic.

When we reached Buckkeep, Chade led off the guards with the trove of scrolls. The Prince took my hand and thanked me for a job well done, as if I were any guardsman who had completed a difficult task at risk to himself. Hand to hand, he pushed his Skilling into my mind. I could barely hear him. Come to see you soon. Rest now. Come to see you soon. Rest now.

Nettle and Thick followed him as he strode away and I was a.s.sisted into the infirmary, where I was very content to lie still and think of nothing. I believe that several days pa.s.sed. It was hard to keep track of things like time. The headaches and dizziness pa.s.sed, but the vagueness lingered. I had been somewhere and experienced something vast and I knew that, but could not find any words for it, even to explain it to myself. It was so large and foreign an event that it challenged all the meaning and order that I gave to the rest of my life. Small things stole my attention: the dance of motes in a beam of sunlight, the twisted wool woven to form my blanket, the grain of the wood in the frame of my bed. It wasn't that I could not Skill; it was more that I could not see the point of it, nor gather the energy and focus to do it.

They fed me well and let me rest. Visitors came and went and left almost no impression on me. Once I opened my eyes to see Lacey looking down on me with stern disapproval. I closed them. The healer could do nothing for me and often loudly observed in my vicinity that he thought I was a lazy malingerer. They brought an old, old woman to see me. After our eyes met, she nodded vigorously and said, "Oh, yes, he has that Pecksie-nibbled look to him. The Pecksies took him underground and fed on him. It's known they have a hole up there, near the Witness Stones. They'll take a new lamb or a child, or even a strong man if he's in his cups when he wanders about up there." She nodded sagely and advised, "Give him mint tea and cook his meat with garlic until he reeks of it. They can't abide that, and they'll soon enough let him go. When his nails have grown long enough to be cut, and he cuts them, that'll set him free."

And so they fed me a meal of garlicky mutton with mint tea, and then p.r.o.nounced me cured and turned me out of the infirmary. Riddle was waiting for me. He told me that I looked like a mooncalf. He took me to the steams, crowded with noisy guardsmen laughing far too loudly, and then in the guardsmen's act of ultimate purification, took me to the complete chaos of the guards' tables and effortlessly persuaded me to drink ale with him until I had to stagger outside and vomit. The level of shouted conversation and laughter made me feel oddly alone. One young guardsman asked me six times where I had been, and finally I simply said, "I got lost coming back," which made me the cleverest fellow at the table for nearly an hour. If he had expected it to shake loose my tale from me, it failed. Yet, oddly enough, I felt better, as if my body's violent protest over the mistreatment had persuaded me that, yes, I was human and had to make allowances for it. I woke the next day in the barracks, stinking and sweaty, and went back to the steams. I sc.r.a.ped my fouled beard from my face and scrubbed myself with salt and then washed all over with cold water. I dressed in a fresh guard's uniform, for my trunk had returned with the rest of the quest's company and gear, and then ate a very simple and small breakfast of porridge in the crowded and noisy guardroom. Just outside the door of the guards' mess, the kitchen rattled and clanged as if a battle were going on there, with whole companies of kitchen help attacking their tasks.

Feeling more like myself than I had in days, I used the concealed door near the laundry court to enter Chade's labyrinth and made my way up to the workroom.

I found the worktable lined with oily scrolls spread out for cleaning and copying. There were fresh apples in a basket by the hearth chairs. They had not been ripe when last I was in this room. That little fact rocked me more than I expected it to. I sat down, focused myself, and reached for Chade. Where are you? I need to report. I need someone to help me make sense of this. Where are you? I need to report. I need someone to help me make sense of this.

Ah! Excellent to hear you. I would very much welcome your report. We are in Verity's tower. Can you make the climb?

I think so. But not swiftly. Wait for me.

I made the climb, but they did have to wait for me. When I emerged from the side of the hearth, I received a shock, for Lady Nettle, unmistakably Lady Lady Nettle in her green gown and lace collar, was seated at the great table with Chade, Dutiful, and Thick. She looked only mildly surprised to see me emerge. I lifted a strand of cobwebs from across my eyes and shook it from my fingers into the hearth. Then, uncertain of my role, I offered a guard's courteous bow to all of them and stood as if awaiting orders. Nettle in her green gown and lace collar, was seated at the great table with Chade, Dutiful, and Thick. She looked only mildly surprised to see me emerge. I lifted a strand of cobwebs from across my eyes and shook it from my fingers into the hearth. Then, uncertain of my role, I offered a guard's courteous bow to all of them and stood as if awaiting orders.

"Are you quite all right?" Dutiful asked me and came to offer me his arm to my seat at the table. I was too proud to take it, and even seated at the table, I was uncertain of how to proceed. Chade marked my furtive glances at Nettle, for he burst into a laugh and said, "Fitz, she's a member of the coterie now. You must have expected it to come to this."

I glanced at her. Her look was like a knife, and her words as cold and sharp as she sank them into me. "I know your name, FitzChivalry Fa.r.s.eer. I even know that I am your b.a.s.t.a.r.d daughter. My mother knew no Tom Badgerlock, you see. So, while you were in the infirmary, she went to see who had claimed to be her old friend. Then she came away and told me all. All."

"She does not know 'all,'" I said faintly. Abruptly I could think of no more to say. Chade got up hastily, poured brandy and brought it to me. My hand shook so that I could scarcely raise it to my mouth.

"Well, your mother named you you well," Dutiful observed acidly to her. well," Dutiful observed acidly to her.

"As did yours," Nettle replied sweetly.

"Enough, both of you. We will set this aside while Fitz tells us where he was while guards combed the entire kingdom for him." Chade spoke quite firmly.

"Molly is here? At Buckkeep?"

"Everyone is here at Buckkeep. The whole world came for Harvest Fest. Tomorrow night." Thick spoke with satisfaction. "I get to help with the apple press."

"My mother is here. And all my brothers. Who know nothing of any of this, and my mother and I have decided it is best that it remain that way. They are here because my father will be honored at Harvest Fest for his role in the slaying of the dragon. As will Swift, and the rest of the Wit coterie."

"Good. I am glad of that," I said, and I was, but my words came out dully. It was not just the shock of discovering that Harvest Fest was tomorrow. I felt plundered of dignity and control of my life. And oddly freed by it. The decision of when and how to tell Molly that I lived had been taken from me. She had seen me. She knew I lived. Perhaps the next move was hers. And the thought that followed that plunged me into an abyss. Perhaps she had already made it. She had walked away from me.

"Fitz?" I became aware that Chade had spoken to me several times when he touched me on the arm. I twitched and came back to awareness of the people at the table. Dutiful looked sympathetic, Nettle distant, and Thick bored. Chade rested a hand on my shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Would you report to the coterie on where you have been and what happened to you? I have my suspicions, but I'd like them confirmed."

Habit made me begin from the last time he'd heard from me. I was blithely telling them of entering the Black Man's abode when I suddenly became reluctant to share all the Fool had said. So I looked at my hands on the table and summarized it, leaving out as many of the intimate details as I could. Of those who sat at the table, only Chade perhaps had a glimmering of what my parting from the Fool meant. Without thinking, I said aloud, "But I did not go back, and you say I've been gone over a month. I do not know what they will make of that absence. I want to go back, but now I fear the pillars as I never have before."

"And well you should, if what I have read in the Skill scrolls you brought back is an indicator. But more of that later. Tell the rest."

And so I did, of leaving and claiming the scrolls and disposing of the woman's body. Chade was fascinated by the Elderling magic of lights and warmth, and asked many questions about the cubes of memory stone that I could not answer. I saw him already itching to attempt the trip and explore for himself that magically charged realm. I went on to Prilkop's farewell, and then to my endless pa.s.sage through the pillars. When I spoke of the being who had rescued me, Dutiful sat up very straight. "Like the ones from our time on the Others beach."

"Like and not like. I think there, our minds were in their world. In the pillars, my body was there, as well. Since I've returned, I've felt . . . strange. More alive in some ways. More connected, to even the tiniest bits of this world. And yet more alone, also." And then I fell silent. There seemed nothing to add to my account. I glanced at Nettle. She met my gaze with a neutral little look that said I meant nothing to her and never had.

Chade seemed to feel he had enough to ponder, for he pushed back from the table like a man who has finished a substantial meal. "Well. A tale that will take some thought to sort out, and enough lessons for now. All of us have tasks to get to with Harvest Fest just around the corner. There will be a gathering tonight, in the Great Hall, with music and jugglers and dancing and tales. Many of our Outislander friends will be there, as well as all our dukes. I shall see the rest of you there tonight, I am sure."

When they continued to sit and look at him, he added heavily, "And I would speak privately with Fitz now."

Thick stood up. So did Nettle. "After I speak privately with Fitz," Dutiful announced calmly.

Thick looked perplexed, but immediately added, "Me, too."

"Not I," Nettle said coolly as she walked toward the door. "I can't imagine anything I'd ever want to say to him."

Thick stood rooted in place, his eyes darting from Nettle to Dutiful. He was obviously torn. I managed to dredge up a smile for him. "You and I will have lots of time later, Thick. I promise."

"Ya," he agreed abruptly, and managed to catch the door before it had completely closed behind Nettle. He followed her out. Dutiful gave Chade a glance and the councilor retreated to stand by the window looking out over the sea. Plainly it was not what Dutiful wanted. Just as plainly, the power struggle between councilor and prince continued. I looked at Dutiful. He sat down in the chair next to me and drew it closer. He spoke softly and I expected to hear of his concerns with the Narcheska and his betrothal. "I've talked with her a lot about you. She's angry with you right now, but I think if you'll give her time, she can calm down enough to listen to you."

It took me a moment. "Nettle?"

"Of course."

"You talked about me a lot with her?" Better and better, I thought sourly to myself. Dutiful sensed my dismay.

"I had to," he said defensively. "She was saying things like, 'He abandoned my mother when she was pregnant, and never came to see me at all.' I couldn't let her just say things like that, let alone believe them. So I've told her the truth, as you told it to me."

"Fitz?" He spoke a few moments later.

"Oh. Sorry. Thank you." I couldn't even recall what I had been thinking.

"You'll like her brothers. I do. Chivalry's a bit full of himself, but I think it's a bluff to make up for how frightened he is of all the changes. Nimble is nothing like Swift. I've never met two twins less alike. Steady lives up to his name, while Just chatters like a magpie. And Hearth, he's the youngest, all he does is run and giggle and try to get his brothers and Nettle to wrestle with him. He's not afraid of anyone or anything."

"They're all here for Harvest Fest."

"At the Queen's invitation. Because Swift will be recognized and Burrich honored."

"Of course." I looked at the table between my hands. Did I fit anywhere in any of this?

"Well, I suppose that's all I wanted to say. I'm glad you're better. And I think Nettle will come about, if you give her time. She feels tricked. I warned you she would. Oddly enough, I think that what made her angriest was that you disappeared like that. She took it personally, somehow. But I think she'll reconsider her opinion of you, if you give her time."

"I don't think I've much choice in it."

"No, I don't suppose you do. But I didn't want you to think it was hopeless and give up and go off somewhere to avoid seeing her. Your place is at Buckkeep now. So is hers."

"Thank you."

He glanced aside from me. "I can't tell you what it means to me to have her here at court. She's so outspoken and blunt. I never was friends with a girl like I can be with her. I suppose it's because we're cousins."

I nodded, unsure how true it was, but glad of it all the same. If she had the Prince's friendship, she had a powerful protector at court.

"I have to go. I've missed my last two fittings for my Harvest Festival clothing. I swear, they take it out on Thick, poking him with pins 'by accident' if I'm not there to defend him. So I'd best be there."

I nodded to that as well and then somehow he was up and out the door and the room was silent without my much noticing how it had happened. Chade set a cup of brandy down before me with a firm tap on the table. I looked at it and then up at him. "You may need it," he observed mildly. Then he revealed, "The Fool was here, two weeks ago. I'd give a lot to know how he comes and goes from here so unseen, but he managed. I heard a tap at the door of my private sitting room, late at night. And when I opened it, there he was. Changed of course, as you said. Brown as an appleseed, all over. He looked weary and half-sick, but I think that could have been his journey through the pillar. He did not speak of the Black Man, or indeed of anything except you. He obviously expected to find you here. That frightened me."

I set the empty brandy gla.s.s down on the table. Without asking, Chade refilled it for me. "When I told him we hadn't seen you, he looked stricken. I told him how thoroughly we'd searched, and that my private premise had been that you'd gone off with him. He asked if we'd used the Skill; I told him that of course we had, but that it had yielded no trace of you. He gave me the name of an inn where he'd be staying for a week, and asked me to send a runner immediately if any news of you came in. At the end of the week, he came back to me again. He looked as if he had aged a decade. He told me he had made inquiries of his own about you, with no positive results. Then he said he had to depart, but that he wished to leave something with me for you. Neither of us expected you'd return to claim it."

I didn't have to ask for it. He set down a sealed scroll, no bigger than a child's closed fist, and a small bag made from Elderling fabric. I recognized it as coming from the coppery robe. I looked at them, but made no move to touch either of them while Chade was watching me. "Did he say anything? As a message for me, I mean."

"I think that is what those things are."

I nodded.

"Hap came to see you while you were in the infirmary. Did you know?"

"No. I didn't. How did he know I was there?"

"I believe he spends a great deal of time at that minstrel tavern these days. When we were searching for you, we put the word out through the minstrels, of course. We were desperate to hear any rumor of you, so he knew that we expected Tom Badgerlock to be at Buckkeep and he wasn't. Then, when you were found, of course the minstrels heard of that, too. So he knew through them. You should see him soon and put his mind at rest."

"He visits the minstrel tavern often?"

"So I've heard."

I didn't ask from whom, or why the Queen's councilor would be kept informed of the habits of a woodworker's apprentice. I merely said, "Thank you for watching over him."

"I told you I would. Not that I've done well at it. Fitz, I am sorry to tell you this. I don't know the details, but I understand he got in a bit of trouble in town and has lost his apprenticeship. He has been staying among the minstrel folk."

I shook my head at that, sick at heart. I should have done better by him. Time, definitely, to take the young man in hand. I decided I'd seek out Starling for gossip on where to find my boy. I felt guilty and remiss that I had not sought him out before this.

"Any other news that I should know?"

"Lady Patience whacked me quite soundly with her fan when she discovered that you had been in the infirmary for some days and no one had informed her."

I laughed in spite of myself. "In public?"

"No. She has gained some discretion in her old age. She summoned me to a private meeting in her chambers. Lacey was waiting for me. I went in, Lacey offered me a cup of tea, and Patience came in and whacked me with her fan." He rubbed his head above his ear and added ruefully, "You might have told me she knew you were alive and disguised as a guardsman. Something that she finds offensive in the extreme, by the by."

"I didn't have a chance. So. Is she angry with me?"

"Of course. But not as angry as she is with me. She called me an 'old spider' and threatened to horsewhip me if I didn't stop interfering with her son. How did she establish a connection between you and me?"

I shook my head slowly. "She's always known more than she lets on."

"Indeed. That was the case even when your father was alive."

"I will go and see Patience also. Well, it seems that my life is as much a tangle as ever. How go things in the greater schemes of Buckkeep?"

"Your plans have succeeded well enough. Those dukes who did not travel to the Out Islands on Prince Dutiful's first sortie are glad to have a chance at making trade agreements with the kaempra who have been arriving. Some think there may be enough profit in it to persuade the Hetgurd to put an end to all raids. I do not know if they can wield that authority, but if all the dukes say, firmly, that trading agreements are contingent on an end to all raiding, it may cease. There has even, you may be surprised to hear, been talk of some marriage offers between Six Duchies n.o.bility and the Out Island clans. So far, it has been all kaempras offering to join our 'mothershouses' and we have had to caution our n.o.bility that the Outislander notion of marriage is sometimes not so permanent as our own. But some may work out. Several of our higher n.o.bles have younger sons they might offer to Outislander clans."

He leaned back in his chair and poured brandy for himself. "It might even be a lasting peace, Fitz. Peace with the Outislanders in my lifetime. Truth to say, I never thought I'd see it." He sipped from his cup and added, "Though I'll not count my chickens before they are hatched. We've still a ways to go. I'd like to see Dutiful hailed as King-in-Waiting before the winter is over, but that may take a bit of doing. The lad is still impulsive and impetuous. I've cautioned him, over and over, that the crown sits on the King's head, not his heart. Nor considerably lower. He needs to show his dukes a man's measured thought, a king's considered opinions, not a boy's pa.s.sions. Both Tilth and Farrow have said they'd rather see him wed first or with a few more years to steady him before they recognize him as King-in-Waiting."

I pushed my brandy cup toward him and he filled it as well. "You say nothing of the dragons. There have been no problems, then?"

He gave a wry smile. "I think our Six Duchies folk are a bit disappointed that they have not seen so much as a scale of them. They would have relished having Icefyre come crashing through our gates to present his head to our queen. Or they think they would. As for me, I am well contented with that situation. Dragons at a distance are amazing and n.o.ble creatures of legend. My closer experience of them makes me suspect they'd burp n.o.bly after consuming me."

"Do you think they went back to Bingtown, then?"

"Most emphatically not. We had a messenger from the Traders last week, seeking word of Tintaglia. From the scroll, I could not tell if they were worried for her well-being, or frantic at having become the sole providers for several earth-bound dragons. I was going to tell them we had no idea of what had become of them after Icefyre made his appearance at the Narwhal mothershouse. Then Nettle spoke up. She said that Tintaglia and Icefyre were feeding and mating and completely engrossed in those two activities. She could not say where; her contact with Tintaglia is intermittent, and a dragon's idea of geography is quite different from ours. But they were feeding on sea bears. So I think that would put them to the north of us. We may yet see something of them if they decide to fly back to Bingtown."

"I've a feeling we've not heard the last of them. But what about closer to home? Have we resolved anything with our Old Blood?"

"Old Blood has shed much blood while we were gone. It has rocked several of our duchies to discover that Old Blood may run stronger in the n.o.bility than was previously admitted. There was even a rumor about Celerity of Bearns, that perhaps she and her hawk saw with the same eyes. Shocking. These revelations come out when vendettas run hot, and one set of murders lead to another. Kettricken has been hard-pressed to keep order. But the gist of it is that Old Blood seems to have thoroughly cleaned their own house of 'the Piebald blight.' Web was horrified at the news he received when he arrived home. He has pressed, more than ever, for Old Blood to make itself known and respectable. In some ways, the bloodletting has been a setback for him. Ironically, he has proposed to create a township for Old Blood, where they may demonstrate their diligence and civility. What once they opposed for fear it would lead to slaughter, they now propose as a way to demonstrate their harmlessness. When unprovoked. The Queen is considering it. Location would require much negotiation. Many fear the Wit more than ever these days."

"Well, not everything can go smoothly, I suppose. At least it may be more out in the open, now." I sat a moment, wondering. Celerity of Bearns, Witted? I did not think so. But looking back, I could not be certain.

"And Lord FitzChivalry Fa.r.s.eer? Will he come out into the sunlight at last?"

"What, only Lord? I thought I was to be King?" And then I laughed, for never had I seen Chade struck dumb before. "No," I decided. "No, I think we will let Lord FitzChivalry Fa.r.s.eer rest in peace. Those important to me know. That was all I ever cared about."

Chade nodded thoughtfully. "I could wish you a minstrel's happy ending to your tale, 'much love and many children,' but I do not think it will come to be."

"It never came true for you, either."

He looked at me and then looked aside. "I had you," he said. "But for you, perhaps I would have died an 'old spider' hiding in the walls. Did you never think of that?"

"No. I hadn't."

"I've things to do," he said abruptly. Then, as he stood, he rested a hand on my shoulder and asked, "Will you be all right now?"

"As well as can be expected," I said.

"I'll leave you, then." He looked down and added, "Will you try to be more careful? It was not easy for me, those days when you went missing. I thought you had fled Buckkeep and the duties of your blood, and then when the Fool came through, I believed you were dead somewhere. Again."

"I'll be just as careful with myself as you are with yourself," I promised him. He lifted one brow at me and then nodded.

I sat for some time after he was gone looking at the package and the scroll. I opened the scroll first. I recognized the Fool's careful hand. I read it through twice. It was a poem about dancing, and a farewell. I could tell he had written it before he discovered my absence. So. He had not changed his mind. He and Prilkop had paused here only to say good-bye to me, not because he'd had a change of heart.

The package was lumpy and rather heavy. When I untied the slithery fabric, a piece of memory stone the size of my fist rolled out on the table. The Fool's Skilled fingers had carved it, I was sure. I poked at it cautiously but felt only stone. I lifted it up to look at it. It had three faces, each blending into the next. Nighteyes was there, and me, and the Fool. Nighteyes looked out at me, ears up and muzzle down. The next facet showed me as a young man, unscarred, eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar. Had I ever truly been that young? And the Fool had carved himself as a fool, in a tailed cap with one long forefinger lifted to shush his pursed lips and his brows arched high in some jest.