by Robin Hobb
‘Is that light?’ he asked suddenly.
I squinted. ‘Not daylight. It’s a lamp.’
‘I can see it.’ His voice trembled as if someone were shaking him. ‘Per? Lant?’
It was Lant. He came down the steps to us, holding the small lamp in one hand and his sword in the other. His face was a mask of light and shadow above it. ‘Bee? Fitz? Fool? Why were you so slow to follow? We feared the worst!’ He came sloshing toward us, talking as he came. ‘I feared you were trapped in the tunnel. Only a few more steps and you’ll be out of the water. Spark has not come back. She outran me. I came back in time to see Prilkop running away. I would have had to kill him to stop him. Per remains on guard at the door.’ His explanation rattled from his lips. Then, as his light reached us, ‘Where is Fitz?’
Fool took a breath. ‘Not with us,’ he said.
‘But …’ Lant stared at him and then looked down at me. I could not bear his expression. I hid my face in Beloved’s shirt. ‘No,’ Lant said on a hoarse exhalation Then, ‘How?’
‘There was an explosion. The beams of the tunnel came down. Fitz is gone, Lant.’
They were moving as they spoke climbing the steps slowly as if they carried something heavy between them. Lant stopped suddenly. The light wavered as his shoulder’s shook. He made a choking sound.
‘NO!’ Beloved said savagely. He grabbed his shoulder and shook him so that the lamp’s light danced. ‘No. Not here. Not now. Neither of us can feel that. When she is safe, we can grieve. For now, we plan and we survive. Swallow it, put your head up and walk on!’
Lant did. He took a noisy breath and then strode on. I walked between them and then behind them, trying to comprehend that my father was gone. Again. But he would not return this time. I recalled the dream of the scales. I had known, in some part of myself, that he might buy my life with his. But with every breath I exhaled, something inside me grew heavier. Guilt, fault, grief, or a terrible mixture of those things. I did not weep. Tears would have been too small, an insult to the size of loss I’d taken. I wanted to bleed my sorrow, to let the pain of it drain out with my life.
Lant suddenly glanced back at me. ‘Bee, I am so sorry.’
‘You didn’t kill him. He traded his life for mine.’
He stumbled slightly. Then he said, ‘Get up on my back, Bee. We will go faster.’
I thought of refusing, but I was so tired. He stooped and I climbed up. I put my arms around Lant’s neck, trying not to choke him. I wondered if the rising tide had filled the tunnel behind us. Would it slosh around my father’s body? Would little blind fishes come to eat him?
With me riding on Lant’s back, we went more quickly. The steps grew steeper and the water receded. Then, in the distance, I saw a very small light. It was bobbing as it came toward us. ‘Get down, Bee,’ Lant said in a low voice. I slid from his back and he stepped in front of Beloved and I, his sword ready.
But it was Spark with a brushwood torch. ‘I chased them through the bushes and down the hill, to the edge of the town. I couldn’t chase them through the streets with a sword. They got away. Where’s Prilkop?’
‘Per said he arrived after me, and then ran off toward the town. Per stayed to guard the tunnel mouth.’
‘I never saw Prilkop! Where is Fitz?’ She was close enough now to see that no one followed us.
‘Dead.’ Lant delivered the news bluntly.
I admitted my guilt. ‘He traded his life for mine.’
Spark made a choking sound. Lant put his arm around her. It was as much comfort as anyone could give her. We hurried on.
When the flame on the brushwood torch burned out, Spark flung it against the side of the tunnel. I understood that gesture. ‘Where are we going?’ I asked in a whisper.
Beloved answered me. ‘Out of this tunnel onto a low hillside behind the town, then through the town to the docks. A boat should be waiting for us there. I hope. From there, we go to a ship named Paragon. And then across a lot of water. And home.’ He sounded utterly discouraged. He drew a breath. ‘Home. We’re going home, Bee.’
‘Withywoods?’ I asked him softly.
He hesitated. ‘If that is what you wish.’
‘Where else could I go?’
‘Buckkeep Castle.’
‘Maybe,’ I said. ‘But not Withywoods. I know too many dead people there.’
He nodded. ‘I understand that.’
The adults were walking fast. I caught at his cuff to help me keep pace with them. ‘My sister is at Buckkeep Castle,’ I told him. ‘Nettle. And Riddle.’
‘Yes. And they have a new baby! Your father told me. He said, “I’m a grandfather now” …’ His words faltered to a halt.
‘A new baby?’ I exclaimed in dismay. It suddenly hurt my feelings. I tried to understand why. There would be no room for me in her life now. Nettle had been my sister, mine, a few moments ago. Now she was somebody’s mother. And Riddle would have his own little girl.
‘Her name is Hope.’
‘What?’
‘Your niece. Hope is her name.’
I could think of nothing to say. He said wistfully, ‘It will be nice for you to have people to go home to. Your sister. And Riddle. I really like Riddle.’
‘So do I,’ I agreed.
Spark spoke over her shoulder. ‘We’re nearly at the door,’ she said. ‘We need to go quietly now. Lant and I will go first, to see what might be waiting. Fool will guard you, Bee. Stay here.’
I nodded but all the same I took out Symphe’s knife and held it, as my father had taught me. A smile twisted her mouth to see me do that. ‘Good,’ she whispered. Beloved set down the lamp. Spark and Lant ghosted toward a pale-grey light interrupted by bushy shadows.
But no one was waiting in ambush for us. Only Per, hatchet in hand, standing just inside the chopped door. ‘Bee!’ he exclaimed as soon as he saw me. He rushed to me and hugged me hard, weapons still in his hands. I hugged him back and then held tight to him. I spoke next to his ear. ‘Per. My da is dead. The ceiling fell on him. We had to leave him back there.’
‘No!’ he cried out low, holding me tighter. He breathed harsh, his chest heaving within my embrace. When he spoke again, his voice was angry and fierce. ‘Don’t be afraid, Bee. I’m still here. I’ll protect you.’
‘To the ship,’ Lant said. ‘No tarrying. Not for anything.’
The doors had pushed earth and leaves and the cloaking vegetation aside. No one had guarded this way, or even tended this door, in a very long time. ‘So arrogant,’ Lant whispered as he worked his way gingerly through the tangle of thistles and climbing vine. ‘I doubt they’ve ever been attacked before.’
‘They always believed they could see disaster coming and avoid it,’ Beloved said. ‘Change the future to save themselves. They knew something of the Destroyer, but I doubt they expected a small girl; I doubt they understood they would bring it all on themselves.’ He added, ‘And the actions of the Unexpected Son were, as always, unexpected. Fitz had a way of tumbling all their pieces from the gameboard. For a time longer, we may be in their blind spot. Fitz bought this time for us. We must not waste it.’
`Fitz had, I thought to myself. Not Fitz has. Never again. I felt Per’s grip on my hand tighten and knew that we shared that thought. We followed them out into a sunny day. I blinked incredulously. I felt it had been a year since I left my cell. Deep grass surrounded the neglected entry to the tunnel and no clear trail led away from it. The tasselled heads of the tall glasses glistened with dew. We could clearly see the trampled grass where the Whites and then Prilkop had gone down toward the town.
‘Let me take your arm,’ Spark said to Beloved. ‘We need to move quickly.’
‘I can see. As I once did. Perfectly.’
‘How?’ Lant demanded.
‘Fitz,’ he said quietly. He stepped clear of the brambles and looked around him as if the world were a wonder. ‘As he was dying. He did a last healing. On me. I suspect it took every last bit of strength he had.�
�� He looked down at me and added, ‘I did not ask him for that. I did not want it. But he knew he was trapped. He chose to spend what life he had left on me.’
I looked up at him. He was changed from the first time I had seen him. He was thinner, almost gaunt. The battering his face had taken was almost gone. And he stood differently. It came to me slowly. Nothing hurt inside him any more.
I looked away from him. I was still trying to understand what I felt when Lant spoke, his voice emptied of emotion. ‘We need to get to the ship as quickly as possible. We must try to be seen as little as possible. We don’t know if the White prisoners or Prilkop have rallied folk against us. So we will assume they have. Per, if we are attacked take Bee and run. Don’t stay to fight. Take her, hide with her, and stay there until you can get to the boat and the ship.’
‘I don’t like that,’ I said bluntly. ‘Do you think I can’t fight? Do you think I didn’t fight?’
Per’s angry face mirrored mine.
Lant looked down on me. ‘It doesn’t matter if you like it. My father charged me to protect Fitz. I didn’t. I won’t lose you, too, Bee. Not unless I go down in my own blood. So, to make that less likely, obey me. Please.’ He added the last word as a courtesy, with no plea in it. Per gave a tight nod and I knew I’d have no choice. Months of being on my own. It wasn’t even noon and I was relegated to being a child again.
‘I will choose our path,’ Beloved said. Lant started to object, but he added, ‘I once knew every alley in this town well. I can get you to the harbour, and few will mark our passage.’
Lant nodded curtly and we fell in behind him. We pushed our way clear of the brambles into a sheep pasture on a hill above the town. From our vantage I looked down at a town that seemed unaware of any disaster. Wagons creaked through the streets. I saw a ship coming into port. The wind off the water brought me the smell of roasting meat from someone’s kitchen. The wet grasses slapped against me, soaking me and slicing my bare legs as we strode on. Were the fishermen setting out for the day’s work? Did they not know what I had done in the night? How could their lives be so ordinary when my father was dead? How could the whole world not be as broken as I was? I lifted my eyes to Clerres Castle. And there saw thin tendrils of smoke still rising from my handiwork. I smiled. They, at least, would share some of my pain.
Lant spoke. ‘This is odd. Don’t they see that smoke and wonder what happened there?’ He was silent, brows gathered in thought.
I moved closer to Beloved and asked him, ‘Where do you think Prilkop went?’
‘I truly don’t know,’ he said, and I heard sadness and a fear of betrayal. ‘And we don’t have time to worry about him.’
I defended him. ‘He’s a good man. He was kind to me. I want to believe he was really my friend.’
‘I know that. So do I. But good men can disagree. Severely. Now don’t talk. We need to move quickly and quietly.’
He led us by a roundabout path, past empty sheep-pens and through a part of the town where vine-covered walls hid gardens and fancy houses. We entered a narrow lane, and trotted past smaller houses and humble cottages. We came to a muddy, rutted road that snaked down to the warehouses. The streets were bereft of people. ‘They’ll be at the entry to the causeway, asking one another what is happening,’ Beloved predicted softly.
I trotted at Per’s side as the adults stretched their strides. I was barefoot and my wet trousers slapped against my legs. A man pushing a barrow stopped and scowled to watch us pass. But he did not cry out, or point at us or chase us. ‘Run now,’ Beloved commanded us quietly, and we did. We dashed past two old women carrying baskets of vegetables and exclaiming loudly about the rising smoke. An apprentice in a leather apron ran across our path, in too much of a hurry to notice us. We came to the harbour road. I had a terrible stitch in my side, but still we ran. We passed other people, but they were all going in the opposite direction. All bound for the end of the road and the causeway to Clerres Castle as Beloved had predicted.
Smoke was rising from behind the castle walls, dark against a blue sky. A fleet of small fishing vessels, some with sails and some oared, were visible on the water. They came around the curve of the castle’s promontory, sailing into view as calmly as seabirds.
The docks rang hollow under our pounding steps. We reached the end. I bent over, gasping, my hands on my knees. ‘Thank Eda and El,’ Lant said in a shaky voice. I took two steps and looked down. Four sailors in a boat, three drowsing in cramped curls in the bottom. But as we clambered down, they woke rapidly and moved to take their places at the oars.
‘Where’s Fitz?’ one asked.
‘Not coming,’ Lant said tersely.
The tattooed warrior who had asked nodded sagely and tossed her head in the direction of the island. ‘I figured that for his handiwork when I first saw the flames last night.’ She stared at Beloved’s face then shook her head wordlessly. Her eyes came to rest on me. ‘So you’re the little baggage all this is about?’
‘She is,’ Lant said, saving me the trouble of replying. He sounded almost proud of me as he added, ‘And she’s the one who set the fires!’
The sailor woman tossed me a damp woollen blanket, ‘Well done, sprite! Well done.’ To the other sailors, she said, ‘Pull. I think we want to be well away from here as fast as we can.’
The increasing light showed two thin trickles of smoke and one fat black one still rising. The outer walls of the keep prevented us from seeing how much damage I’d done. But I smiled to myself, trusting it was enough. There was little for them to rescue. I was certain of that.
I took a seat next to Per. Spark crouched in the bottom of the boat next to Lant. The warriors bent to their oars. The woman spoke as she pulled. ‘Very late last night, I saw flames. Only for a short time. Some of the folk in town came out of their houses and shouted a bit, but then the city guard turned out and chased them all back in. They shut down the taverns, too. We heard all the shouting. “Go home and stay there.” And like sheep, they all went! We pushed in under the docks and stayed quiet. We thought you’d all come running then, but no. Before dawn, I saw the lights of three boats come around the far side of the island and go to the shore. I thought they would sound an alarm, turn out the guard. But, nothing.’ She shrugged.
Beloved sat up. ‘Nothing they’d let you see. But there will be something, I fear.’ His face was grim.
The woman nodded. ‘Lean into it,’ she told her sailors and they rowed faster.
All four were powerful rowers. They bent to their oars and their muscles bunched and slacked in unison as if they were the muscles of a single powerful creature rather than four separate warriors. There were several large vessels anchored in the harbour. We passed one, and then two, and finally I could see the ship we were bound for. The sails were furled and all seemed quiet aboard it. But I saw a small figure in the crow’s nest stand up, and then silently scamper down the mast. The lookout raised no cry and I suspected that was intentional. As we approached I saw several sailors looking over the railing.
We came around the side and I saw the figurehead. I could not help it. My father looked down on us, a very slight smile on his face. I burst into tears.
Per grabbed me and held me tight. His chest rose and fell against my back but he made not a sound. No one spoke to us. I lifted my head to see Spark curled as small as a child. Lant held her, his head bent over her as tears dripped from his chin. The rowers said nothing. Their faces were stern. I looked at Beloved. His face was carved of ice. His scars were gone, but he looked older. Tired beyond tired. Too sad to weep.
Our crew brought us alongside and caught hold of an unfurling rope ladder. ‘Get aboard now!’ a sailor directed us quietly and then left us to our own devices. Spark clambered up the ladder and then stood at the side, offering a hand to Per and then me. Beloved came behind me, as if to guard me from falling. Lant came last of us, and before he was all the way over the railing, two of our oarsmen were clinging to the ladder. A davit swung over the
side and lines were lowered to bring up the boat.
A sailor glanced over the side and called out softly to someone else, ‘We have them! They’re all aboard!’
A woman with her hair tied back in a tail hastened up to Lant. ‘All went well then?’ she asked him. Then she scowled. ‘Wait! Fitz isn’t here yet.’
Lant slowly shook his head and her face grew grave. I couldn’t bear to listen to his telling that my father was dead. And I had another concern.
I had touched the railing climbing aboard the ship and had felt a deep thrumming of anxiety and awareness. I turned to Per. ‘This ship is not made of wood,’ I told him, unable to explain what I’d felt.
‘It’s a liveship,’ he told me hoarsely. ‘Made of a dragon’s cocoon, with the spirit of a dragon trapped in it. The Fool carved his face, a long time ago, to look just like your father.’ He looked around. The Fool was in grave conversation with the woman who had greeted us. Lant and Spark stood by them. It felt as if they had forgotten me.
‘Come on,’ Per said quietly, and took my hand.
‘He can’t talk to you right now,’ he explained as we threaded our way past and through sailors working a suddenly lively deck. ‘He has to pretend he’s only wood. But you should see him.’
A woman passed us, talking to a man beside her. ‘We’ll swing him on the anchor and go quietly from the harbour. Not much wind, but enough to get us clear.’
The closer we drew to the figurehead, the more uneasy I felt. My awareness of the ship was intense. I raised my walls, and then set them again, and yet again. Per seemed unaware of the ship’s roiling emotions. I tugged him to a stop. ‘This ship is angry,’ I said.
