The Tawny Man 1 - Fool's Errand

by Robin Hobb

  I took up a candle and went into my own dark chamber. All was exactly as I had left it. I shut the door firmly behind me, worked the catch, and began the weary climb up the narrow stairs to Chade's tower.

  I had half expected to find him waiting there for me, anxious for my report. Of course he was not; he must be at the festivities below. But if Chade was not there, the rooms welcomed me all the same. A tub had been left out by the hearth and a large kettle of water was steaming on the hook. Food, obviously from the same dishes the nobles shared below, waited on the table, and a bottle of wine. One plate. One glass. I could have felt sorry for myself. But I did note that a second comfortable chair now rested beside his near the hearth. On that chair was a stack of towels, and a robe of blue wool. Chade had left out lint and bandaging, as well, and a pot of smelly salve. In the midst of all he undoubtedly had to tend to, he had thought of me. I reminded myself of that, even as I knew he would not have hauled the buckets of water up here on his own. So. He had a servant, or was it his apprentice? That was still a mystery I had not solved.

  I poured the steaming water into the tub, and added cold from a bucket to adjust it. I heaped a plate with food and set it with the open bottle of wine next to the tub. I shed my sodden clothing where I stood, put Jinna's charm on the table, and hid my feathers inside one of Chade's dustiest scrolls. Then I peeled off the bandaging on my neck and climbed into the tub. I eased into the water and leaned back. I ate while soaking in hot water, and drank a glass of wine, and washed myself in a desultory fashion. Slowly the cold began to seep out of my bones. The sadness that remained and weighted me seemed a tired and familiar thing. I wondered if Starling played and sang in the Great Hall. I wondered if Lord Golden led Huntswoman Laurel to the dance floor. I wondered what Prince Dutiful thought of the child bride the sea storm had washed to his doorstep. I leaned back in the tub and I drank wine from the bottle's mouth, and suppose dozed off.

  "Fitz?"

  The old man's voice was worried. It startled me awake and I sat up in the tub, sloshing water. The neck of the wine bottle was still in my hand. He caught it before I overset it and placed it on the table with a thump. "Are you all right?" he demanded.

  "I must have fallen asleep." I was disoriented. I stared at him, in his court finery, with the dying firelight glinting off the jewels at his ears and throat. He seemed a stranger to me suddenly, and I was embarrassed to be caught sleeping, naked and half-drunk in a tub of cooling water. "Let me get out of this," I muttered.

  "Do," he encouraged me. He built up the fire while I clambered from the tub, dried myself, and pulled on the blue robe. My hands and feet were wrinkled from the long immersion. He filled a smaller kettle and set it on the hob, and then took a teapot and cups down from the shelf. I watched him mix tea herbs from a row of cork-stoppered pots.

  "How late is it?" I asked him groggily.

  "So late Burrich would say it was early morning," he replied. He put a small table between the hearth chairs and arranged his teapot and cups there. He sat down in his worn chair beside the table and indicated the other chair for me. I took it and I studied Chade. He had obviously been up all night, yet he seemed not weary but energized by it. His eyes were bright and his hands steady. He folded his hands on his lap before him and for a moment he was silent, looking down on them. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. He looked up and met my gaze. "I won't pretend to completely understand your loss. He was a fine creature, your wolf. But for him, Queen Kettricken would never have escaped Buckkeep Castle all those years ago. And she has often spoken to me of how he provided meat for all of you on your journey through the Mountain Kingdom." He lifted his eyes to mine. "Have you ever thought that, if not for the wolf, neither of us would be sitting here like this?"

  I didn't want to speak of Nighteyes just then, not even to hear the kindly memories others had of him. "So," I said when a moment of awkward silence had passed. "Did all go well this evening? The betrothal ceremony and all?"

  "Oh, that was just the welcoming ceremony. The formal betrothal will not take place until the new moon. Night after tomorrow. All the dukes must arrive before we can hold that. Buckkeep Castle will be packed to the rafters with folk, and all of Buckkeep Town, as well."

  "I saw her. The narcheska. She's only a child."

  A strange smile lit Chade 's face. "If you say she is 'only' a child, then I doubt you actually saw her. She is ... a queen in the bud, Fitz. I wish you could meet her and speak to her. By the greatest good fortune, the Outislanders have offered us an extraordinary match for our Prince."

  "And does Dutiful concur with that?" I prodded.

  "He " Chade drew himself up abruptly. "And what is this? Asking questions of your master? Report, you young upstart!" His smile took any sting from his words.

  And so I did. When the water boiled, Chade brewed a tea for us, and later he poured it from the pot, stinging and strong. I don't know what was in it, but the haze of weariness and wine lifted from my mind. I told him all the events up to the time when we reached the inn at the ferry landing. As ever, his face was still as he listened. If he heard anything that shocked or dismayed him, he covered it well. He only winced once, when I spoke of slamming Dutiful flat onto his back on the beach. When I was finished, he drew in a long breath through his nose. He stood up and walked a slow turn around the room. Then he came back and sat down heavily.

  "So our Prince is Witted," he said slowly.

  Of all the things he could have said, this most surprised me. "Did you doubt it?"

  He gave a small shake of the head. "I had hoped we were wrong. That these Old Blood folk know he carries that blood is a knife in our ribs. At any time, the Piebalds could choose to drive it home, simply by speaking what they know." His eyes turned inward. "The Bresingas will bear watching. I think, ah, yes, that Queen Kettricken will ask Lady Bresinga to take a certain young woman into her household, a girl of good blood but poor prospects. And I shall look into Laurel's family connections, as well. Yes, I know what you think of that, but we cannot be too careful where the Prince is concerned. A damn shame you let the Piebalds ride away, but I see there was nothing you could have done about it at the time. If it were but one man, or two, or even three, we could end the danger. But not only a dozen Old Bloods, but those Piebalds know as well." He considered a moment. "Can their silence be bought?"

  It disheartened me to hear him plot, yet I knew it was his nature. As well fault a squirrel for hiding nuts. "Not with gold," I decided. "Actions might keep them content. Do as they asked. Show good will. Have the Queen move more strongly to protect the Witted ones from persecution."

  "She already has!" Chade replied defensively. "For your sake, she has spoken out, and more than once. Six Duchies law forbids that any Witted one be killed simply for being Witted. Other crimes must be proved."

  I took a breath. "And has that law been enforced?"

  "It is up to each duke to enforce the laws within his own duchy."

  "And in Buck?" I asked softly.

  Chade was silent for a time. I watched him gnaw briefly on his lip, his eyes staring deep into nothing. Weighing. At last he asked, "Do you think that would content them? Stricter enforcement of the law within Buck Duchy?"

  "It would be a start."

  He took a deep breath and sighed it out. "I will discuss it with the Queen. It will not take much urging on my part. In truth, I have played the opposite role up until now, urg' ing her to respect the traditions of the folk she has come to rule, for she "

  "Traditions!" I burst out. "Murder and torture as 'tradi' tions'?"

  "She bestraddles an uneasy alliance!" he finished more strongly than he had begun. "Since the end of the Red Ship War, it has been a juggler's trick to keep the Six Duchies in balance. It takes a light hand, Fitz, and the sense to know when to take a stand and when to let things go."

  I thought of the smell that had hung near the river, and the cut rope left hanging from the tree. "I think she had best decide to take a stand on this."
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  "In Buck."

  "In Buck, at the least."

  Chade covered his mouth and then pulled at his chin. "Very well," he conceded, and for the first time I perceived that I had been negotiating with him. I had not, I reflected, done very well at it, but then I had supposed I had merely been reporting. And whom had I expected to speak out for the Old Blood? Lord Golden? Huntswoman Laurel, who would just as soon not be associated with them? I wished I had been more forceful. Then I reflected that I still could be, when I spoke with Queen Kettricken.

  "So. What did our Queen think of Prince Dutiful's bride?"

  Chade looked at me for a long moment. "Are you asking for a report?"

  Something in his voice made me falter. A trap? Was this one of his trap questions? "I merely asked. I have no right "

  "Ah. Then Dutiful was mistaken, and you have not consented to teach him?"

  I worked the two ideas against one another, trying to see how they fit. Then I gave it up. "And if I have?" I asked him cautiously.

  "If you have, then you not only have a right to the information, but a need. If you are going to educate the Prince, you must know everything that affects him. But if you are not, if you intend to go back to your hermit's hut, if you are asking but for the sake of hearing family gossip . . ." He let his words trail off.

  I knew that old trick of his. Leave a sentence dangling, and someone will leap to fill in the end, and possibly betray their own thoughts in doing so. Instead, I sat regarding my cup of tea and chewing on the side of my thumbnail until he leaned across the table and in exasperation slapped my hand away from my mouth. "Well?" he demanded.

  "What did the Prince tell you?"

  It was his turn to hold his silence for a time. I waited him out, wolf-wary.

  "Nothing," he grudgingly admitted at last. "I was but hoping."

  I leaned back in my chair, wincing as my aching back touched it. "Oh, old man," I warned him, shaking my head. Then I found myself smiling, despite myself. "I thought the years had rounded your corners, but they haven't. Why are you making it like this between us?"

  "Because I am the Queen s Councillor now, not your mentor, my boy. And because, I fear, there are days when, as you put it, my corners are rounded, and I forget things and all my carefully gathered threads turn suddenly to a snarl in my hand. So. I try to be careful, and more than careful, in every aspect of all I do."

  "What was in the tea?" I asked suddenly.

  "Some new herbs I've been trying. They were mentioned in the Skill'scrolls. No elfbark, I assure you. I'd give you nothing that might damage your abilities."

  "But they 'sharpen' you?"

  "Yes. But at a cost, as you've already surmised. All things have a cost, Fitz. We both know that. We'll both spend this afternoon abed, don't doubt it. But for now, we have our wits about us. So. Tell me."

  I took a breath, wondering how to phrase it. I glanced up at his fireplace mantel, at a knife that still stood embedded in the center of it. I weighed trust and youthful confidences and all I had once promised King Shrewd. Chade's gaze followed mine. "A long time ago," I began softly, "you tested my loyalty to the King, by asking me to steal something from him, just as a prank. You knew I loved you. So you tried that love against my loyalty to my King. Do you recall that?"

  "I do," he responded gravely. "And I still regret it." He took a breath, and sighed it out. "And you passed his test. Not even for love of me would you betray your King. I know I put you through the fire, FitzChivalry. But it was my King who asked that you be tested."

  I nodded slowly. "I understand that. Now. I too made my oath to the Farseer line, Chade. Just as you did. You vowed no loyalty to me, nor I to you. There is love between us, but no oaths of fealty." He was watching my face very carefully. A frown divided his white brows. I took a breath. "My loyalty is to my Prince, Chade. I think it must be up to him what he shares with you." I took a deep breath, and with great regret, severed a portion of my life. "As you have said, old friend. You are the Queen's Councillor now, no longer my mentor. And I am not your apprentice." I looked down at the table and steeled myself. The words were hard to say. "The Prince will decide what I am to him. But I will never again report to you about my private words with my Prince, Chade."

  He stood, quite abruptly. To my horror, I saw tears welling in his sharp green eyes. For a moment, his mouth trembled. Then he walked around the table, seized my head in his hands, and bent down to kiss my brow. "Thanks be to Eda and El both," he whispered hoarsely. "You are his. And he will still be safe when I am gone."

  I was too astonished to speak. He walked slowly around the table and resumed his seat. He poured more tea for both of us. He turned aside to wipe his eyes, and then looked back at me. He pushed my cup across the table toward me and said, "Very well. Shall I report now?"

  Chapter XXIX

  BUCKKEEP TOWN

  A good bed of fennel is an excellent addition to any cottage garden, though one must be wary of it spreading. Cut it back each fall, and gather the seedheads before the birds can scatter them all through your garden, or your spring will be spent pulling up the lacy fronds. All know the sweet flavor of this plant, but it has medicinal uses, as well. Both seed and root of this herb aid the digestion. A colicky babe will take a tisane of fennel, and much good with it. Chewed, the seed will refresh the mouth. A poultice of the same will soothe sore eyes. Given as a gift, the message of fennel is said by some to be "Strength" and by others, "Flattery."

  MERIBUCK'S HERBAL

  As Chade had warned me, I slept away not only the afternoon, but part of the early evening, as well. I awoke in the utter blackness of my little chamber, in the total solitude of myself, and suddenly feared I was dead. I rolled off my bed, found the door by touch, and lunged out of it. Light and moving air stunned me. Lord Golden, impeccably attired, sat at his writing desk. He glanced up casually at my abrupt entrance. "Oh. Awake at last," he observed congenially. "Wine? Biscuits?" He gestured at a table and chairs by the fireside.

  I came to the table rubbing my eyes. Food was artfully arranged on it. I dropped into the closest chair. My tongue felt thick, my eyes sticky. "I have no idea what was in Chade's tea, but I don't think I want to try it again."

  "And I have no idea what you're talking about, but I sus' pect that that is just as well." He rose and came to the table, poured wine for us, and then glanced over me disparagingly. He shook his head. "You are hopeless, Tom Badgerlock. Look at yourself. Sleeping in all the day, and then appearing with your hair half on end in a worried old robe. A worse servant a man never had." He took the other chair.

  I could think of no reply to that. I sipped my wine gratefully. I considered the food but found I had no appetite. "How was your evening? Did you enjoy a dance with Huntswoman Laurel?"

  He raised one eyebrow at me, as if my question puzzled and surprised him. Abruptly, he was my Fool again as a smile twisted his mouth. "Ah, Fitz, you should know by now that every moment of my life is spent dancing. And with every partner, I tread a different measure." Then, adroit as ever, he changed the subject, asking, "And are you well this evening?"

  I knew what he meant. "As well as could be expected," I assured him.

  "Ah. Excellent. Then you will be going down to Buckkeep Town?"

  He knew my mind before I had even thought it. "I'd like to check on Hap and see how his apprenticeship goes. Unless you need me here."

  He studied my face for a moment, as if waiting for me to say more. Then he said, "Go to town. I think it an excellent idea. There are, of course, more festivities tonight, but I shall endeavor to manage my preparation without you. Do, please, try to make yourself a bit more presentable before leaving my apartments, however. Lord Golden's reputation has been tarnished quite enough of late without it being said that he keeps moth-eaten servants."

  I snorted. "I'll try." I rose from the table slowly. My body had rediscovered its aches. The Fool ensconced himself in one of the two chairs that faced the hearth. He leaned back in it with a
sigh and stretched out his long legs toward the warmth. His voice reached me as I moved toward my chamber.

  "Fitz. You know I love you, don't you?"

  I halted where I stood.

  "I'd hate to have to kill you," he continued. I recognized his adept imitation of my own voice and inflection. I stared at him, baffled. He sat up taller and glanced over the back of his chair at me with a pained smile. "Never again attempt to put my clothing away," he warned me. "Verulean silk should be draped for storage. Not wadded."

  "I'll try to remember that," I promised him humbly.

  He settled back in his chair and picked up his glass of wine. "Good night, Fitz," he told me quietly.

  In my chamber, I found one of my old tunics and some leggings. I put them on, and then frowned at the fit. The leggings sagged on me about the waist; the privations and steady exertions of our expedition had trimmed my body. I brushed at the shirt, and then frowned at the stains. It had not changed since I came to Buckkeep, but my eye for it had. It had been fine for my farmstead, but if I were going to stay at Buck and teach the Prince, I would need to dress as a townsman again. The conclusion was inevitable and yet it felt oddly vain. I washed my face with the stale water in the ewer. In my small looking glass, I tried vainly to smooth my hair, then gave it up as a bad cause, and put on my cloak. I put out my candle.