Fool's Quest (22 page)

The food was brought to us swiftly. I am sure it was excellent, though I barely noticed. I ate little and drank less and looked around with wide eyes as if I had never seen the Great Hall before. And in truth, I had not ever seen it from that vantage point. As the dishes were being cleared and wine and brandy brought, Starling struck up her harp more aggressively, and soon launched into a second rendition of last night's song. I noted that she had modified it somewhat, and wondered if that had been Chade or Kettricken's work. This night, there was mention of King Shrewd's jester and how he had aided Kettricken's escape and accompanied her on her flight to her father's house. The Fool was given credit for rescuing me when I was injured and restoring me to Kettricken's side. He was even mentioned as helping me wake the stone dragons that had risen to Verity's aid. It pleased me to hear him given his due before such an august company, and I wished he had been there to hear it.

I was even more astonished at the end, when after her final notes had nearly finished vanishing to a whisper, she suddenly struck up a reverential air. From the far end of the hall came Lady Rosemary, bearing what appeared to be a jewel-studded casket. As she approached, Starling sang of Verity's regard for me, and how he had left me a final token of that respect, to be claimed by me if ever I returned to Buckkeep Castle. I divined what was in the box even before Lady Rosemary presented it to the king and queen. Dutiful opened the chest and lifted from it the steel circlet. It had been polished and it shone. With trembling hands he took out his father's scroll. I knew with heartfelt certainty that he had never seen or read it before, for his voice shook as he read Verity's words. He carried the crown with his lady beside him until he stood in the center of the room near Starling's harp. As she played, he called me forth to kneel before him while he set it on my brow. “Prince FitzChivalry Farseer, son of King-in-Waiting Chivalry Farseer,” he publicly named me.

And so I was crowned twice that day.

Then he bade me rise and embraced me. A roar of acclaim rose and for a time faces and sounds seemed to recede around me. Then, “Don't faint!” my king exhorted me quietly, and I drew a deep breath lest that happen. I followed them back to the high dais, the circlet cold and heavy on my brow.

A long evening followed. The tables were cleared and carried away. Kettricken's guard was formed up around me to honor me, as every duchy was named and their nobility summoned to greet me. Duchess Celerity was hardest for me to face, but she had said her words the evening before, and so she but took my hands and wished me well as her husband offered me a stiff bow.

The Duke and Duchess of Tilth presented another difficulty, as they escorted their daughter, a sturdy girl of perhaps seventeen years, and introduced her as Lady Meticulous, “unspoken for” as yet. They told me that she enjoyed riding and hawking and extended an immediate invitation that I might join them on the morrow for a winter hunt. The girl looked at me with such frank and undismayed appraisal that I barely managed to respond that I had a previous engagement and regrettably could not join them. The duchess immediately suggested that perhaps I would be free the next day. I was horribly grateful when Nettle leaned over to say that as she had not seen me for some time, she hoped to occupy most of my days for the next month.

“Ah, then we shall have to invite you to Tilth in the spring,” the girl's father observed brightly as his wife folded her lips in disappointment, and I managed to nod acquiescence to that.

I do not know how many hours we were there. People came, presented themselves, commented on past connections, many of them extremely tenuous, and then moved on. The noise of conversation in the hall was a constant. I looked up to see that Starling had her own circle of admirers asking questions about her adventures. Both she and her husband appeared to be basking in the crowd's adoration. As I was not. I envied them their ability to relax and be flattered. I watched the crowd with an assassin's eyes, noting faces and names, alert for signs of hidden hostility, storing information and connections until I thought my brain would burst. The stares and glares that I noted were not many, but I suspected that for every minor noble who openly disdained the Witted Bastard, six would smile to my face while imagining putting a knife in my back.

The smile on my face felt stiff and aching long before King Dutiful declared that we were all sated with too much good food, good wine, and good fortune and that we would now retire. We left as we had arrived, a formal exit from the Great Hall accompanied by the Buckkeep Blue Guard all the way to his private chamber.

It was a large and comfortable room with many cushioned chairs, a large hearth with a hearty fire, and a table laden with yet more refreshments and a selection of brandy and wines. Even when King Dutiful had assured the serving staff that we were fine and dismissed them, I still felt somewhat constrained by the company. They were my closest friends and my family, and it took me a few silent moments to identify my problem. I had been a different person to every single one of them. What role was I expected to play this night? And if I decided to simply be myself, which self was that? The killer Chade had trained, Dutiful's protector and mentor, Riddle's brother-in-arms, Nettle's negligent father? All me and all not me.

Kettricken looked directly at me and heaved a great sigh. “Oh, my friend, I'm so glad it's all over,” she said, and went to a chair and sat down.

“It's never over,” Dutiful observed wearily.

“But the worst of it is,” his mother asserted. “For years it has been like a barbed thorn in my heart that Fitz did so much, sacrificed so much, and only a few knew of it. Now they know at least some of what he did. Now he can come home to us, can eat meals with us and walk in the gardens and ride in the hunt, and answer to his rightful name. And his little girl will soon arrive here and come to know the rest of her family!”

“Then will we reveal that Badgerlock is also Fitz? It may bring the rest of his deeds to light if we do, for there are many who know that Badgerlock and Riddle were among those who accompanied Prince Dutiful to Aslevjal. Will people be offended that Lady Molly of Withywoods was married to the Witted Bastard and they lived right under their noses all those years?” Nettle posed her query to all of us.

“But,” Kettricken said, and then fell unhappily silent.

“Let people make up their own explanations.” Riddle chuckled. “I imagine many will claim to have known all along, and they will be the ones least likely to ask questions.”

I shot him a gaze of pure admiration. I looked to Chade to see him share that approval, but the old man looked distracted and displeased.

“It will all be sorted out,” Dutiful said comfortingly, “but it will take time. And simply because Fitz can now move openly within Buckkeep Castle does not mean that he will joyfully give up his quiet life and private ways.” Regretfully, he added, “Or that all will be glad to see the Witted Bastard return to Buckkeep and polite society.”

Chade abruptly interrupted. “Nettle, I must ask you to apply your Skill for me. It's Sildwell. I sent him with messages and gifts to Withywoods. He was to Skill to me when he arrived safely. All this evening, I've felt him pecking at my thoughts like a woodpecker on a tree, but his Skill ebbs and flows as if blown by the wind.”

“Sildwell? The apprentice who left the Silver Coterie?” She looked startled, and my heart sank a bit. What had Chade been up to?

“Yes. As he seemed unable to get along with his fellows in the coterie and you gave him leave to depart, I thought to train him as a messenger, one that could occasionally employ his Skill-talents as well. He's a tough young man and an excellent horseman.”

“His Skill was erratic,” Nettle observed somewhat acerbically. “And his manners appalling.”

“Practice may improve both of those things,” Chade replied. “In any case, I sent him off to Withywoods with messages and small gifts for FitzVigilant and Bee and so on. And he seems to be trying to tell me he has reached Withywoods but he cannot find Bee. And FitzVigilant has been injured. Or burned. I cannot make out what he is trying to convey to me. If you would reach to him?”

“He can't find Bee?” I interrupted.

Nettle shook her head at me, her mouth pinched with disapproval. “Take no alarm. Sildwell is disorganized and ill mannered. And possibly drunk. There were a number of reasons I chose to discontinue his Skill-training. Let's not panic.”

I took a breath. Chade was scowling. He'd been caught going behind Nettle's back to co-opt a former apprentice as his personal Skilled messenger. I wondered if he'd intended more than that. I noticed he'd mentioned Lant but said nothing of Shun. Was she a bigger secret than I'd realized?

Nettle took a seat on the divan. “Let's resolve this swiftly and put everyone's mind at ease. Dutiful, will you join us? Fitz?”

Although a joining of Skill-strength did not require physical proximity, each of us moved to sit beside her. Chade came to stand behind her. As I took my place and opened my Skill to theirs, it felt rather like wading into a river. No. Being a stream merging with a river. Together, we rushed out toward the messenger.

I knew nothing of Sildwell, so I let the others guide us. We reached, I felt the connection, and then it failed and faded. I had never felt such a thing in the Skill. I tried not to let my puzzlement be a distraction. Nettle gathered us as if she were plaiting a rope and again she reached.

Skillmistress!
Sildwell seemed as startled as he was relieved.
I cannot …
And he was gone, like a voice swept away by wind or the glimpse of someone in a heavy snowfall.
Fog … stable fire … no one knows of … strange folk.

Fire in my stables? Fear leapt in me and I shoved it down relentlessly. I glanced at Chade. His eyes were wide with fear. I reached behind Nettle, took his hand, and squeezed it. Small and tight, I sent a thought to him.
Don't distract the others. First we discover the truth.
I felt his assent but his fear did not abate. I tried to wall in mine. Nettle was taking control of Sildwell. I felt her reach and try to shape him into himself.

Apprentice Sildwell. Gather yourself. Focus. Choose one thought to convey. Be calm. Form the thought in your mind. Hold it. Polish it. Now. Slowly. Extend the thought to me.

So calm and structured. As she instructed Sildwell, I felt Nettle reinforce his awareness of himself as a solid and separate entity from the Skill-current that we all navigated. She abruptly spoke aloud to me. “Da. Calm yourself. I need your strength right now. Lord Chade. Now is not the time for this panic.” Then I felt her dismiss us and put her focus back on the youngster. I tried to help her as she attempted to wrap him in confidence. And,
Now,
she invited him.

There is no Lady Bee here. Some folk died in a fire. They all are strange.
Then, as if something else flowed and washed against us, his thoughts were swept away. All was fog, as if we were on a gray sea in a gray fog in a constant wash of gray rain.
Frightening …
That thought broke through stronger than the others, and then there was nothing. No sense of anyone, anywhere in the Skill-current.

Chade's grip on my hand had tightened. In that physical touch, our rising fears became one thing. I could hear his shuddering breath.

Later. Rest now.
Nettle arrowed the thought at Sildwell with a fierce strength, but it was an arrow sent toward a target that no one could see.

We were abruptly seated on a divan in the comfortable chamber in Buckkeep. I shot to my feet. “I'm going now.”

“Yes,” Chade confirmed. He gripped the back of the divan with both hands.

“What was that?” Dutiful demanded of all of us. I scarcely heard him. Dread was rising in me like cold water in a flood. Something was terribly wrong at Withywoods. A fire in the stables? Lant injured? Bee was there, as good as alone if Lant was injured. So far away from me. “I'm leaving,” I repeated. My voice had no strength. Chade nodded and reached for me.

“Perhaps a dragon,” Nettle said softly. “We know that the stone dragons often distorted memory and perception when they over flew a battle.”

“The confoundment,” Elliania confirmed. “Many of our warriors spoke of it. The battle would be lost and over, and few had more than fragmentary memories of what had happened.”

“And the living dragon Tintaglia was able to bend our thoughts and change our Skilling,” Nettle recalled slowly. “Dragons have visited Bearns. It may be that one had descended on Withywoods. We should wake Thick and see if he can reach through the fog and get some sense out of Sildwell.”

Chade gripped my arm, leaned heavily on me for a moment. “To my room. I have everything you need there.” He suddenly pulled himself up straight. “There is no time to lose.”

As we moved toward the door, his strength seemed to come back to him. “Da?” Nettle asked in consternation.

“I must go to Withywoods tonight, via the stones. Riddle, arrange a horse for me, please.”

“Don't you think that—”

I didn't want to waste words or time. I spoke over my shoulder. “No Lady Bee? A fire? Regardless of his Skill-ability, all is not well there. I should never have left her there alone.” I reached the door, Chade beside me.

“FitzVigilant is with her,” Nettle reminded me. “He's young but he has a good heart, Fitz. He would not let harm come to her. I think something or someone has befuddled Sildwell. His talent was always uneven.” She tried to speak calmly but her voice was a notch too high.

“He said Lant was injured. Or burned? If he's injured he can't protect anyone. I'm going now. By the pillars.” The unease was building to a panic in my chest. I tried to push it down. Be calm. No wild imaginings. Just get there and find out what was real. But the messenger's words stabbed me with a thousand fears. A fire. Bee missing. Had the fire spread to the manor? Had she hidden in the walls and died there, unseen? I dragged in a deep breath and tried to sound reasonable. And calm. “Once I am there, I will let you know what has happened.”