The Wise Man's Fear Part 59

I saw him fighting down a smile. "Ah, yes. I need to feed it, I suspect." He tucked it back inside his robes. "Go on now." He made a shooing motion toward the door.

I made my way back to the Maer's rooms, trying to ma.s.sage some feeling back into my numb fingers. It was a genuine Arcanum guilder. He was a real arcanist. He knew exactly what he was doing.

I returned to the Maer's rooms and engaged in five minutes of painfully formal small talk while I refilled the flit's feeders with the still-warm medicine. The birds were unnervingly energetic, humming and chirruping sweetly.

The Maer sipped a cup of tea as we talked, his eyes following me quietly from the bed. When my work with the birds was finished I made my good-byes and left as quickly as propriety allowed.

Though our conversation hadn't touched on anything more serious than the weather, I could read his underlying message as plainly as if he'd written it for me to read. He was in control. He was keeping his options open. He didn't trust me.

CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE.

The Gilded Cage AFTER MY BRIEF TASTE of freedom, I was trapped in my rooms again. Though I hoped the Maer was through the worst of his recovery, I still needed to be at hand should his condition worsen and he call on me. I couldn't justify even a brief trip to Severen-Low, no matter how desperately I wanted to head back to Tinnery Street with the hope of meeting up with Denna.

So I called on Bredon and spent a pleasant afternoon playing tak. We played game after game, and I lost each one in new and exciting ways. This time when we parted ways, he left the game table with me, claiming his servants were tired of carrying it back and forth between our rooms.

In addition to tak with Bredon and my music, I had a new distraction, albeit an irritating one. Caudicus was every bit the gossip he seemed to be, and word had spread about my story genealogy. So now in addition to courtiers trying to pry information out of me, I was deluged with a steady flow of people eager to air everyone else's dirty laundry.

I dissuaded those I could, and encouraged the especially rabid to write their stories down and send them to me. A surprising number of them took time to do this, and a stack of slanderous stories began to acc.u.mulate on a desk in one of my unused rooms.

The next day when the Maer summoned me, I arrived to find Alveron sitting in a chair near his bed, reading a copy of Fyoren's Claim of Kings Claim of Kings in the original Eld Vintic. His color was remarkably good and I saw no trembling in his hands as he turned a page. He didn't look up as I entered the room. in the original Eld Vintic. His color was remarkably good and I saw no trembling in his hands as he turned a page. He didn't look up as I entered the room.

Without speaking, I prepared a new pot of tea with the hot water waiting at the Maer's bedside table. I poured a cup and set it at the table by his elbow.

I checked the gilded cage in his sitting room. The flits darted back and forth to the feeders, playing dizzying aerial games which made them difficult to count. Still, I was reasonably certain there were twelve of them. They seemed none the worse despite three days of poisonous diet. I resisted an urge to knock the cage about a bit.

Finally I replaced the Maer's flask of cod liver oil and found it was still three-quarters full. Yet another sign of my fading credibility.

Wordlessly I gathered up my things and prepared to leave, but before I made it to the door, the Maer turned his eyes up from his book. "Kvothe?"

"Yes, your grace?"

"It seems I am not as thirsty as I thought. Would you mind finishing this for me?" He gestured to the untasted cup of tea that sat on the table.

"To your grace's health," I said, and drank a sip. I made a face and added a spoon of sugar, stirred, and drained the rest of it with the Maer watching me. His eyes were calm, clever, and too knowing to be wholly good.

Caudicus let me in and ushered me into the same seat as before. "You'll excuse me for a moment," he said. "I have an experiment I must attend to, or I fear it will be ruined." He hurried up a set of steps that led to a different part of the tower.

With nothing else to occupy my attention, I eyed his display of rings again, realizing that a person could make a fair guess at his position in the court by using the rings themselves as triangulation points.

Caudicus returned just as I was idly considering stealing one of his gold rings.

"I was not sure if you wanted your rings back," Caudicus said, gesturing.

I looked back at the table and saw them resting on a tray. It seemed odd I hadn't noticed them before. I picked them up and slid them into an inner pocket of my cloak. "Thank you kindly," I said.

"And will you be taking the Maer his medicine again today?" he asked.

I nodded, puffing myself up proudly.

When I nodded, the motion of my head made me dizzy. It was only then I realized the trouble: I'd drunk a full cup of the Maer's tea. There hadn't been much laudanum in it. Or rather, not much laudanum if you were in pain and being slowly weaned away from a budding addiction to ophalum.

However, it was quite a bit of laudanum for someone like myself. I could feel the effects of it slowly creeping over me, a warm la.s.situde running through my bones. Everything seemed to be moving a little more slowly than normal.

"The Maer seemed eager for his medicine today," I said, taking extra care to speak clearly. "I'm afraid I don't have much time to chat." I was in no condition to play the half-wit gentry for any length of time.

Caudicus nodded seriously and retreated to his worktable. I followed him as I always did, wearing my best curious expression.

I watched with half an eye as Caudicus mixed the medicine. But my wits were fuddled by the laudanum, and what remained were focused on other matters. The Maer was hardly speaking to me. Stapes hadn't trusted me from the beginning, and the flits were healthy as ever. Worst of all, I was trapped in my rooms while Denna waited down on Tinnery Street, no doubt wondering why I hadn't come to visit.

I looked up, aware that Caudicus had asked me a question. "Beg your pardon?"

"Could you pa.s.s me the acid?" Caudicus repeated as he finished measuring out a portion of leaf into his mortar and pestle.

I picked up the gla.s.s decanter and began to hand it to him before I remembered I was just an ignorant lordling. I couldn't tell salt from sulfur. I didn't even know what an acid was.

I did not flush or stumble. I didn't sweat or stutter. I am Edema Ruh born, and even drugged and fuddled I am a performer down to the marrow of my bones. I met his eyes and asked, "This one, right? The clear bottle comes next."

Caudicus gave me a long, speculative look.

I flashed him a brilliant grin. "I've got a good eye for detail," I said smugly. "I've watched you go through this twice now. I bet I could mix the Maer's medicine myself if I wanted to."

I pitched my voice with all the ignorant self-confidence I could muster. This is the true mark of n.o.bility. The unshakable belief that they can do anything: tan leather, shoe a horse, spin pottery, plow a field ... if they really wanted to.

Caudicus looked at me a moment longer, then began to measure out the acid. "I daresay you could, young sir."

Three minutes later I was walking down the hall with the warm vial of medicine in my sweaty palm. It almost didn't matter whether I'd fooled him or not. What mattered was that for some reason, Caudicus was suspicious of me.

Stapes stared daggers into my back as he let me into the Maer's rooms, and Alveron ignored me as I poured the new dose of poison into the flit's feeders. The pretty things hummed about their cage with infuriating energy.

I took the long way back to my rooms, trying to get a better feel for the layout of the Maer's estate. I already had my escape route half planned, but Caudicus' suspicion encouraged me to put the finishing touches on it. If the flits didn't start dying tomorrow, it would probably be in my best interest to disappear from Severen as quickly and quietly as possible.

Late that night, when I was reasonably sure the Maer wouldn't call on me, I slipped out the window of my room and made a thorough exploration of the gardens. There were no guards this late at night, but I did have to avoid a half-dozen couples taking moonlight strolls. There were two others sitting in close, romantic conversation, one in a bower, the other in a gazebo. The last couple I nearly trod on while cutting through a hedgerow. They were neither strolling nor conversing in any conventional sense, but their activities were romantic. They didn't notice me.

Eventually I found my way onto the roof. From there I could see the grounds surrounding the estate. The western edge was out of the question, of course, as it was pressed up against the edge of the Sheer, but I knew there had to be other opportunities for escape.

While exploring the southern end of the estate, I saw lights burning brightly in one of the towers. What's more, they had the distinctive, red tint of sympathy lamps. Caudicus was still awake.

I made my way over and risked a look inside, peering down into the tower. Caudicus was not simply working late. He was talking to someone. I craned my neck, but I couldn't see who he was speaking to. What's more, the window was leaded shut and I couldn't hear anything.

I was about to move to a different window when Caudicus stood and began to walk to the door. The other person came into view, and even from this steep angle I could recognize the portly, una.s.suming figure of Stapes.

Stapes was clearly worked up about something. He made an emphatic gesture with one hand, his face deathly serious. Caudicus nodded several times in agreement before opening the door to let the manservant out.

I noted Stapes wasn't carrying anything when he left. He hadn't stopped by for medicine. He hadn't stopped by to borrow a book. Stapes had stopped by in the middle of the night to have a private conversation with the man who was trying to kill the Maer.

CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR.

Flight Though no family can boast a truly peaceful past, the Lacklesses have been especially ripe with misfortune. Some from without: a.s.sa.s.sination, invasion, peasant revolt, and theft. More telling is misfortune that comes from within: how can a family thrive when the eldest heir forsakes all family duty? Small wonder they are often called the "Luckless" by their detractors.It seems a testament to the strength of their blood that they have survived so much for so long. Indeed, if not for the burning of Caluptena, we might possess records tracing the Lackless family back far enough for them to rival the royal line of Modeg in its antiquity... .

I tossed the book onto the table in a way that would have made Master Lorren spit blood. If the Maer thought this sort of information was enough to woo a woman, he was in worse need of my help than he thought.

But as things currently stood, I doubted the Maer would be asking me for any help with anything, least of all something as sensitive as his courting. Yesterday he hadn't summoned me to his rooms at all.

I was clearly out of favor, and I sensed Stapes had a hand in it. Given what I had seen two nights ago in Caudicus' tower, it was fairly obvious Stapes was part of the conspiracy to poison the Maer.

Though it meant spending all day trapped in my rooms, I stayed where I was. I knew better than to jeopardize Alveron's already low opinion of me by approaching him without being summoned first.

An hour before lunch Viscount Guermen stopped by my rooms with a few pages of handwritten gossip. He also brought a deck of cards, apparently thinking to take a page from Bredon's book. He offered to teach me how to play thrush, and, as I was just learning the game, agreed to play for the pittance of a single silver bit per hand.

He made the mistake of letting me deal, and left in a bit of huff after I won eighteen hands in a row. I suppose I could have been more subtle. I could have played him like a fish on a line and bilked him for half his estate, but I was in no mood for it. My thoughts were not pleasant, and I preferred to be alone with them.

An hour after lunch, I decided I was no longer interested in currying favor with the Maer. If Alveron wished to trust his treacherous manservant, that was his business. I'd be d.a.m.ned if I would spend one more minute sitting idle in my room, waiting by the door like a whipped dog.

I threw on my cloak, grabbed my lute case, and decided to take a walk down Tinnery Street. If the Maer needed me while I was away, he could d.a.m.n well leave a note.

I was halfway into the hall when I saw the guard standing at attention outside my door. He was one of Alveron's own, clad in sapphire and ivory.

We stood for a moment, motionless. There was no sense in asking if he was there on my account. Mine was the only door for twenty feet in any direction. I met his eye. "And you are?"

"Jayes, sir."

At least I still rated a "sir." That was worth something. "And you're here because ...?"

"I'm to accompany you if you leave your room. Sir."

"Right." I stepped back into my room and closed the door behind me.

Were his orders from Alveron or Stapes? It didn't really matter.

I went out my window, into the garden, over the little streamlet, behind a hedgerow, and up a section of decorative stone wall. My burgundy cloak was not the best color for sneaking around in the garden, but it worked quite nicely against the red of the roofing tiles.

After that I made my way onto the roof of the stables, through a hayloft, and out the back door of a disused barn. From there it was just a matter of jumping a fence and I was off the Maer's estate. Simple.

I stopped at twelve inns on Tinnery Street before I found the one where Denna was staying. She wasn't there, so I continued along the street, keeping my eyes open and trusting to my luck.

I spotted her an hour later. She was standing at the edge of a crowd, watching a street corner a production of, believe it or not, Three Pennies for Wishing Three Pennies for Wishing.

Her skin was darker than when I'd seen her last at the University, tanned from travel, and she wore a high-necked dress after the local fashion. Her dark hair fell in a straight sheaf across her back, all except a single slender braid that hung close to her face.

I caught her eye just as Deadnettle shouted out his first line in the play: I've cures for what ails you!

My wares never fails you!

I've potions for pennies, results guaranteed!

So if you've got a d.i.c.ky heart, Or can't get her legs apart, Come straightaway to my cart, You'll find what you need!

Denna smiled when she saw me. We might have stayed for the play, but I already knew the ending.

Hours later, Denna and I were eating sweet Vintish grapes in the shadow of the Sheer. Some industrious stonemason had carved a shallow niche into the white stone of the cliff, making smooth seats of stone. It was a cozy place we had discovered while walking aimlessly through the city. We were alone, and I felt myself to be the luckiest man in the world.

My only regret was that I didn't have her ring with me. It would have been the perfect unexpected gift to go with our unexpected meeting. Worse yet, I couldn't even tell Denna about it. If I did, I'd be forced to admit I'd used it as collateral for my loan with Devi.

"You seem to be doing fairly well for yourself," Denna said, rubbing the edge of my burgundy cloak between her fingers. "Have you given up the bookish life?"

"Taking a vacation," I hedged. "Right now I'm a.s.sisting the Maer Alveron with a thing or two."

Her eyes widened appreciatively. "Do tell."

I looked away uncomfortably. "I'm afraid I can't. Delicate matters and all that." I cleared my throat and tried to change the subject. "What of you? You seem to be doing fairly well yourself." I brushed two fingers across the embroidery that decorated the high neck of her dress.

"Well I'm not rubbing elbows with the Maer," she said, making an exaggerated deferential gesture in my direction. "But as I mentioned in my letters, I-"

"Letters?" I asked. "You sent more than one?"

She nodded. "Three since I left," she said. "I was about to start a fourth, but you've saved me the trouble."

"I only got the one," I said.

Denna shrugged. "I'd rather tell you in person, anyway." She paused dramatically. "I finally have my formal patronage."

"You have?" I said, delighted. "Denna, that's wonderful news!"

Denna grinned proudly. Her teeth were white against the light nut color of her travel-tanned face. Her lips, as always, were red without the aid of any paint.