Fool's Fate

by neetha Napew

  I knew that we could, and that he was considering the cost of it even now. He but said these words to Peottre to see what the man would reply. For a moment, I almost pitied the Outislander. He could not know that Chade and the Prince were sharing their thoughts, let alone that I stood around the corner not only hearing his every word but also supporting their observations with mine. I saw dismay blossom behind his eyes, and confirmed to both Dutiful and Chade that I believed his discomfort was genuine as he exclaimed, “But you must! Leave the man here with someone to tend to him. He will be safe here in the Boar stronghouse. To do murder in a clan’s stronghouse is a terrible insult to their mothershouse and the Boar Clan is powerful. No one will consider it.”

  “But they might consider it if he ventured outside the stronghouse? Or if I went out tonight, seeking a meal perhaps?” The velvet courtesy of Chade’s tone did not quite mask the razor edge of his question.

  From my concealment, I could see that Peottre regretted his hasty words. He considered lying and then boldly pushed that aside in favor of blunt truth. “You must have known it could come to this. You are not fools, either of you. I have seen you study men and balance the bargain you offer this one against what that one desires. I have seen you offer both honey and the spur to move others to your will. You would have come here knowing what Icefyre means to some of us. You would have anticipated this opposition.”

  I felt Chade caution Dutiful to silence as he spoke out severely on his behalf. “Opposition, yes. Even a muttering of war. A threat of murder to the Prince’s man, or the Prince himself, no. Dutiful is the sole heir to the Farseer crown. You are not a fool, either. You know what that means. We have extended him as far into danger as we will risk him in allowing him to embark on this ridiculous quest. Now you admit that murder may hang over him, simply because he seeks to keep his word to your sister-daughter. The stakes for this alliance have become too high, Peottre. I will not wager the Prince’s life for the sake of this betrothal. The Narcheska’s demand has never made sense to me. Give us one good reason why we should proceed.”

  The Prince was seething. His Skilled objections to Chade’s high-handedness drowned out my own thoughts. I thought I knew what Chade was doing, yet the only emotion I could experience was the Prince’s affront that Chade would imply he would retreat from his word. Even Thick turned over with a heavy moan under the Prince’s Skill-onslaught.

  Peottre’s glance darted to the Prince. Even without the Skill, he could read a young man’s spirit. “Because Prince Dutiful had said he will do it. To back away from his word now and flee home would make him seem both cowardly and weak. It might stave off war, but it would invite raiding again. You know our saying, I am sure: ‘A coward owns nothing for long.’ ”

  In the Six Duchies we say, “Fear is the only thing that a man cannot take from a coward.” I supposed that it meant the same thing. That if our prince showed a cowardly nature, so all the Six Duchies would be judged, and the Outislanders would see us as ripe to be raided again.

  Silence! Glare all you wish, but still your tongue!Chade’s command to Dutiful was as strong a bit of Skilling as I had ever experienced from him. Even more astonishing was the private command he arrowed solely to me.Watch Peottre’s face, Fitz . I felt what it cost Chade in strength, yet he kept his voice steady as he said coolly, “Kaempra Narwhal. You mistake me. I did not say the Prince would go back on his word to set the dragon’s head before your narcheska. He has given his word, and a Farseer does not go back on his word. But once he has done that deed, I see no need to waste my prince’s bloodline on a woman who would connive to send him into such danger, from her own people as well as from a dragon. He will do this, but we will feel no duty to wed him to the Narcheska afterward.”

  I had done as Chade bade me, but there was no reading the succession of expressions that flitted over Peottre’s visage. Astonishment, of course, followed by confoundment. I knew what Chade desired to discover. What did Peottre and the Narcheska seek most strongly: the death of the dragon or an alliance with the Farseers? Yet we were no closer to an answer when Peottre stammered out, “But is not that what the Six Duchies most desires? To create goodwill and an alliance by this marriage?”

  “The Narcheska is not the only woman of high stature in the Out Islands,” Chade replied dismissively. Dutiful had grown very still. I could sense the racing of his thoughts, but not hear them. “Certainly Prince Dutiful can find a woman from amongst your people who does not frivolously risk his life. And if not, there are other alliances to be had. Do you think Chalced would not value such an arrangement with the Six Duchies? Here is an old Six Duchies saying for you to ponder: ‘There is more than one fish in the sea.’ ”

  Peottre was still struggling to grasp the sudden change in situation. “But why risk the Prince’s life in slaying the dragon if there is no reward for doing so?” he asked bewilderedly.

  It was finally Dutiful’s turn to speak. Chade fed him the words, but I think the Prince would have known them for himself even without the prompting. “To remind the Out Islands that what a Farseer says he will do, he does. A few years have passed since my father roused his Elderling allies and destroyed most of this city. Perhaps the best way for us to stave off war between the Six Duchies and the Out Islands is not with a wedding. Perhaps the best way is to remind your countrymen, again, that what we say we will do, we do.” The Prince’s voice was soft and even. He spoke, not man to man, but as a king.

  Even a warrior such as Peottre was not immune to such an assumption. He took less offense at my young prince’s words than he would if one of his fellow kaempras had spoken so to him. I saw him uncertain of his footing, yet I could not have said if he was dismayed at the thought that his sister-daughter might not be wed to the Prince, or relieved. “Truly, it must seem that we have resorted to trickery in tempting you to swear to such a task. And now that you have discovered the full import of your promise, you must feel twice tricked. It is a hero’s task that Elliania has laid upon you. You have sworn to do it. Did I desire to indulge in trickery, I would remind you that you had given your word, as well, to wed her. I might ask if you were not, as a Farseer, bound as tightly there to do as you had said you would do. But I release you from that without quibbling. You feel yourself betrayed by us. I cannot deny that it appears that way. I am certain that you recognize that if you perform this task and then refuse the Narcheska’s hand, you will shame us in proportion to the glory that you will have won for yourself. Her name will become a word for the faithless trickery of a woman. I do not relish such a prospect. Nonetheless, I bow to your right to take such a stance. Nor will I bring blood-vengeance against you, but will hold my sword and acknowledge that you had a right to feel yourself wronged.”

  From my place of concealment, I shook my head. What Peottre said obviously filled him with great emotion, yet I knew I was missing the full import of his words. Our traditions were simply too different. One thing I did know, and an instant later the Prince echoed my thought even as he looked at Peottre consideringly.Well, I have not bettered the situation. We both stand affronted by the other’s behavior now. How can I improve this? Draw a sword and challenge him right now?

  Don’t be a fool!Chade’s rebuke was as sharp as if Dutiful had been serious.Accept his offer of transport aboard the Tuskerto Wuislington. We knew we would have to make that journey; as well to appear to concede it to him. Perhaps we may learn more when we are there. This riddle must be unraveled, and I would have you away from the Hetgurd and any assassination attempts until I know more.

  Prince Dutiful lowered his head slightly. I knew it was at Chade’s suggestion, but it must have appeared to Peottre that he perhaps regretted the tenor of his earlier words. “We are pleased to accept your hospitality this night, Peottre Blackwater. And we will take passage on theTusker tomorrow, to Wuislington.”

  The relief that Peottre felt at Dutiful’s words was palpable. “I myself will vouch for the safety of your folk while we are gone from
them.”

  Dutiful shook his head slowly. His mind was racing. If Peottre were seeking to separate him from his guard and advisers, he would not allow it. “My nobles will, of course, remain here. As they are not of the Farseer line, I suspect that they will not be seen as of my clan and appropriate targets for vengeance. But certain of my entourage must accompany me. My guard, and my advisers. I am sure that you understand.”

  What of Thick? He is still very sick.I asked the question urgently.

  I cannot leave you behind, and I will not trust him to the dubious care he would receive from another. Hard as it will be for him, he must travel with us. He is a member of my Skill coterie. Besides. Think of the havoc he could wreak in our absence did he go back to his old nightmares.

  “Farseer Prince of the Six Duchies, in that I think we can accommodate you.” In his eagerness to be certain of our assent, Peottre almost babbled the words.

  The conversation had moved into safer channels. In a short time, Peottre escorted them downstairs to a meal. Chade loudly observed to the Prince that they must arrange that a substantial meal be sent upstairs to Thick, to hasten his recovery. Peottre assured them that this would be done, and then I heard them leave. When they were clear of the Prince’s room, I let out my pent breath, rolled my shoulders, and moved to check on Thick. He slept on, peacefully unaware that on the morrow he would be carted off to yet another miserable sea voyage. I looked down on him and sent calming thoughts into his dreams. Then I sat down by the door and awaited, without enthusiasm, whatever Outislander victuals would be sent up to me.

  chapter9

  MOTHERSHOUSE

  Bowsrin was kaempra for the Badger Clan at that time. His ships were fleet, his warriors strong, and he raided well, bringing back brandy and silver and tools of iron. He was nearly a hero before he shamed his clan.

  He desired a woman of the Gull Clan. He went to her mothershouse with gifts, but she did not accept them. Her sister did, and he lay with her, but it was not enough for him. He went away and raided for a year and returned to the Badger mothershouse with much wealth, but no pride in his heart, for he was eaten up with unworthy lust.

  His warriors were good fighters but foolish in heart, for they listened to his command when he took them to raid the Gull Clan mothershouse. Their warriors were away and the women in the field when Bowsrin’s ships came to their shore. Kaempra Bowsrin and his warriors killed their old men and some of their nearly grown boys, and took the women on the bare earth, despite how they fought. Some died rather than be forced. Bowsrin stayed there for seventeen days, and every day that he was there, he forced the Gull Clan daughter Serferet to accept his body. Finally she died of it. Then they left, to return to their own mothershouse.

  The moon changed and then the Badger mothershouse received tidings of what their kaempra had done. They were shamed. They drove their men from their lands, telling them never to return. Seventeen of their sons the women gave to the Gull Clan, to do with whatever they wished, in atonement for Bowsrin’s evil. And the mothershouses of all clans banned Bowsrin and his men from the land, and any man who offered them any comfort was to share their fate.

  In less than a year, the sea ate him and his men. And Clan Gull used his forfeited sister-sons, not as slaves, but as warriors to defend their shores and as men to raise up more sons and daughters for Gull Clan. And the women of the mothershouses were at peace with one another again.

  —OUTISLANDER CAUTIONARY TALE, FROM BARD OMBIR

  The next day we took ship for the island of Mayle. Prince Dutiful and Chade met briefly with the convened Hetgurd to announce this decision to them. The Prince gave a brief speech in which he said he had chosen to recognize the conflict as a Hetgurd matter. As a man, he could not call back the word he had given, but he would give them the chance to discuss this challenge and reach a consensus on what their will was. He spoke with dignity and calm, Chade told me later, and his willingness to concede that it was a matter only the Hetgurd could settle seemed to soothe many of the ruffled feathers. Even Eagle spoke well of it, saying that a man who was willing to face a challenge squarely was a man anyone could respect, regardless of where he was birthed.

  The Prince’s nobles received the tidings of his departure with varying degrees of surprise and dismay. It was conveyed to them as a slight change in our schedule. Most had not planned to accompany the Prince to his fiancée’s mothershouse; they had been told back in Buckkeep that such a large delegation of folk would not be easily welcomed there. They had expected to stay in Zylig and establish connections for future trade negotiations. For the most part, they were content to remain on Skyrene and court trading partners. Arkon Bloodblade, kaempra of the Boar Clan and the Narcheska’s father, quietly assured us that he would remain with his warriors to ensure their stay was pleasant, and to further advance our cause with the Hetgurd.

  Chade told me later that he had strongly suggested to our nobles that they continue to enjoy the hospitality of the Boar stronghouse rather than investigate the hospitality of the local inns. He also suggested that they display their own heraldic devices when they went out and about amongst the Outislanders, just as the clansmen sported their animal sigils. I doubt that he told the Six Duchies nobles there would be more safety for them if they were not seen as part of the Farseer Buck Clan, as the Outislanders thought of the Prince’s family.

  TheTusker was an Outislander vessel, far less comfortable than theMaiden’s Chance had been. She bobbed more in the waves, I noted as I watched the others board, but her shallower draft was more suitable for the interisland channels that we would be navigating than theMaiden’ s deeper hull. Some of the channels, I was told, were barely passable at a low tide, and during certain tides that came only once or twice a year a man could walk from island to island on foot. We would traverse several of these channels before once more crossing open water to the Narcheska’s home island and her village of Wuislington.

  It was a cruel thing to do to Thick. I let him sleep as long as possible before I awakened him to a hot meal of familiar foods brought from theMaiden’s Chance . I urged him to eat and drink well and spoke only of pleasant things. I concealed from him that we would be embarking on yet another voyage. He was unhappy about having to wash and dress, wanting only to go back to his bed. I longed to be able to let him, for I was convinced it would have been best for his health. But we could not safely leave him behind in Zylig.

  Even when we stood on the docks with the Prince’s guardsmen, his Wit coterie, Chade, and Prince Dutiful, watching the cargo of bridal gifts being loaded onto theTusker, Thick thought we had only come out on a morning’s stroll. The boat was tied alongside the dock. At least, I told myself grimly, boarding would present no problem. I was wrong. He watched the others walk up the gangway and on board with no qualms, but when it was his turn, he stopped dead beside me. “No.”

  “Don’t you want to see the Outislander ship, Thick? Everyone else has gone on board to look around. I’ve heard it is very different from our ship. Let’s go and see it.”

  He looked at me for a moment in silence. “No,” he said. His little eyes were beginning to narrow in suspicion.

  Further deception was useless. “Thick, we have to go on board. It’s going to sail soon, to take the Prince to the Narcheska’s home. We have to go with him.”

  Around us, activity on the docks had halted. All else had been in readiness, and all the others were aboard. The ship waited only for Thick and me. Men from other ships and passersby stared at Thick’s strangeness avidly, with varying degrees of revulsion on their faces. Sailors from theTusker waited to haul the planks of the walkway on board and cast off lines. They stared at us in annoyance, waiting. I sensed from them that we humiliated them by our very presence. Why could not we get on board and out of sight belowdecks? Time to act. I took his upper arm firmly. “Thick, we have to get on board now.”

  “No!” He bellowed the word suddenly as he slapped at me wildly, and both his fear and his fury struck
me in a wild wave of Skill. I staggered aside from him, bringing a general guffaw from those who had halted to watch us. In truth, it must have looked strange to them, that the petulant slap of a half-wit had nearly driven me to my knees.

  I hate to recall what followed. I had no choice but to force him. But Thick’s terror left him no choice either. We fought it out on the docks, my physical size and strength and the stoutness of my well-practiced walls against his Skill and awkward fighting abilities.

  Both Chade and Prince Dutiful were instantly aware of my dilemma, of course. I sensed the Prince trying to reach Thick and calm him, but the red haze of his anger acted as efficiently as any Skill-wall. I could not feel Chade’s presence at all; I think his effort of the day before had drained him. The first time I seized Thick with the intent of simply lifting him off his feet and carrying him aboard, his Skill flooded into me. The skin-to-skin contact left me vulnerable. It was his fear that he flung at me, and I nearly wet myself with the terror he woke in me. Ancient memories of moments when death’s jaws had closed around me rushed through me. I felt the teeth of a Forged One sink into my shoulder and an arrow thudded home in my back. I had lifted him to my shoulder, and I sagged to my knees, under the weight of his terror rather than his body. This elicited a fresh roar of laughter from the onlookers. Thick broke free of me and then stood there, crying out wildly and wordlessly, at bay, unable to flee, for now a circle of jeering men ringed us.

  The mockery around us grew and battered me more effectively than Thick’s flailing fists. I could not grasp hold of him without risking the integrity of my walls, nor did I dare lower my walls against Thick’s onslaught to allow my own Skill to have its full effect. So I made futile efforts at herding him aboard, closing off his escape whenever he tried to dart past me down the docks. When I stepped toward him, he would step back, closer to the gangplank, and the circle of men there would give way. Then he would dart at me, hand outstretched, knowing that if he touched me, my walls would fall before him. And I would be forced to give ground to avoid his reaching hand. And all the while, men laughed and shouted to their comrades in their harsh tongue, to come and see a Duchyman who could not fight a half-wit.