Fools Errand, Page 29

  Chade's old workbench had yielded me the lockpicks I needed for my dinnerhour adventure. The Prince had Prince Regal's former grand chambers. That lock and I were old friends and I anticipated that I could slip it easily. While the rest of the keep was at table, I approached the Prince's rooms. Here again I saw his mother's influence, for there was not only no guard at his door, but it was not locked. I slipped silently within, closing it softly behind me. Then I stared about me in perplexity. I had expected the same clutter and disorder that Hap tended to leave in his wake. Instead the Prince's sparse possessions were all stored in such an orderly fashion that the spacious room looked nearly empty. Perhaps he had a fanatical valet, I mused.

  Then, recalling Kettricken's upbringing, I wondered if the Prince had any body servants at all. Personal servants were not a Mountain custom.

  It took me very little time to explore his rooms. I found a modest assortment of clothing in his chests. I could not determine if any were missing. His riding boots were still there, but Chade had already told me that the Prince's horse was still in his stall. He possessed a neat array of brush, comb, washbasin, and looking glass, all precisely aligned in a row. In the room where he pursued his studies, the ink was tightly stoppered and the tabletop had never suffered any blots or spills. No scrolls had been left out. His sword was on the wall, but there were empty pegs where other weapons might have hung. There were no personal papers, no ribbons or locks of hair tucked into the corner of his clothing chest, not even a sticky wineglass or an idly tossed shirt under his bed. In short, it did not strike me as a boy's bedchamber at all.

  There was a large cushion in a sturdy basket near the hearth. The hair that clung to it was short, yet fine. The stoutly woven basket bore the marks of errant claws. I did not need the wolf's nose to smell cat in the room. I lifted the cushion, and found playthings beneath it: a rabbitskin tied to a length of heavy twine, and a canvas toy stuffed with catmint. I raised my eyebrows to that, wondering if hunting cats were affected by it as mousing cats were.

  The room yielded me little else: no hidden journal of princely thoughts, no defiant runaway's final note to his mother, nothing to suggest that the Prince had been spirited away against his will. I retreated quietly from his rooms, leaving all as I had found it.

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  My route took me past the door of my old boyhood room. I paused, tempted. Who stayed there now? The hallway was empty and I yielded to the impulse. The lock on the door was the one I had devised, and it demanded my rusty skills to get past it. It was so stiff I was persuaded it had not turned in some time. I shut the door behind me and stood still, smelling dust.

  The tall window was shuttered, but the shutters were, as they had always been, a poor fit. Daylight leaked past them, and after a few moments, my eyes adjusted to the dusky light. I looked around. There, my bedstead, with cobwebs embroidering the familiar hangings. The cedar clothing chest at the foot of it was thick with dust. The hearth, empty, black, and cold. And above it, the faded tapestry of King Wisdom treating with the Elderlings. I stared at it. When I was a boy of nine, it had given me nightmares. Time had not changed my opinion of the oddly elongated forms. The golden Elderlings stared down on the lifeless and empty room.

  I suddenly felt as if I had disturbed a grave. As silently as I had entered the chamber, I left it, locking the door behind me.

  I had thought to find Lord Golden in his chambers, but he was not there. “Lord Golden?” I inquired, and then advanced to tap lightly at the door of his private chamber. I swear I did not touch the catch, but it swung open at mytouch.

  Light flooded out. The small chamber had a window, and the setting sun filled it with gold. It was a pleasant, open room that smelled of wood shavings and paint. In the corner, a plant in a tub climbed a trellis. Hanging on the walls, I recognized charms such as Jinna made. On the worktable in the middle of the room, amongst the scattered tools and paint pots, there were pieces of rod, string, and beads, as if he had disassembled a charm. I found I had taken a step into the room. There was a scroll weighted flat on the table, with several charms drawn on it. They were unlike anything I had seen in Jinna's shop. Even at a glance, the sketches were oddly unsettling. I remember that, I thought, and then, when I looked closer, I was absolutely certain I had never seen the like before. A shiver ran down my back. The little beads had faces; the rods were carved with spinning spirals. The longer I stared, the more they disturbed me. I felt as if I could not quite get my breath, as if they were pulling me into them. “Come away. ” The Fool spoke softly from behind me. I could not reply.

  I felt his hand on my shoulder and it broke the spell. I turned at his touch. “I'm sorry,” I said instantly. “The door was ajar and I ”

  “I did not expect you back so soon, or it would have been latched. ”

  That was all he said, and then he drew me from the room and shut the door firmly behind us.

  I felt as if he had pulled me back from a precipice. I drew a shaky breath. “What were those?”

  “An experiment. What you told me of Jinna's charms made me curious, so when I reached Buckkeep Town, I resolved to see them for myself. Once I had, I wanted to know how they worked. I wanted to know if the charm could only be made by a hedgewitch, or if the magic was in the way they were assembled. And I wanted to know if I could make them work better. ” His voice was neutral, “How can you stand to be around them?” I demanded. Even now, the hair on the back of my neck was standing.

  “They are tuned to humans. You forget that I am a White. ”

  The statement left me as speechless as the insidious little sketches had. I looked at the Fool and for one blink I could see him as if for the first time. As attractive as his coloring was, I had never seen any other person with it. There were other differences, the way his wrists attached his hands to his arms, the airiness of his hair . . . but when our eyes met, I was looking at my old friend again. It was like jolting back to the earth after a fall. I suddenly recalled what I had done. “I'm sorry. I didn't intend to . . . I know you need your privacy ” I felt shamed and hot blood rushed to my face.

  He was silent for a moment. Then he said justly, “When I came to your home, you hid nothing from me. ” I sensed that the statement reflected his idea of what was fair rather than his emotions on the topic.

  “I won't go in there again,” I promised fervently.

  That brought a small smile to his face. “I doubt that you would. ”

  I suddenly wanted to change the subject, but the only thought that came to me was, “I saw Jinna today. She made this for me. ” I opened the collar of my shirt.

  He stared, first at the charm, then up at my face. He seemed struck dumb. Then a wide and fatuous grin spread over his face.

  “It's supposed to make people feel kindly toward me,” I explained. “To counteract my grim appearance, I think, though she was not so unkind as to say that directly. ”

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  He took a breath. “Cover it,” he begged, laughing, and as I did so, he turned away from it. He walked almost hastily to the chamber window and looked out. “They are not tuned to my bloodlines, but that does not mean I am completely impervious against them. You often remind me that in some ways I am still very human. ”

  I unfastened it from my throat and held it out to him. “You can take it and study it if you like. I'm not entirely sure I like wearing it. I think I'd rather know what people honestly think of me. ”

  “Somehow I doubt that,” he muttered, but he returned to take the charm from my hand. He held it out in the air between us, studied it, and then glanced at me. “Tuned to you?” he guessed.

  I nodded.

  “Intriguing. I would like to keep it, for a day or so. I promise not to take it apart. But after that, I think you should wear it. Always. ”

  “I'll think about it,” I promised, but felt no inclination to don it again.

 
; “Chade wanted to see you as soon as you came in,” he suddenly said, as if he had only then remembered it.

  ROBIN HOBB And there we had left it, and I felt that I was, if not excused, at least forgiven for going where I had no business being.

  Now as I followed Chade through the narrow passageway, I asked him, “How was all this built? How can a labyrinth like this that winds all through the castle be kept secret?”

  He carried a candle and walked before me. He spoke over his shoulder, softly. “Some was built into the bones of the keep. Our ancestors were never trusting folk. Part of it was intended as a system of boltholes. Some of it has always been used for spying. Some of it used to be servants' stairs, incorporated into the secret passages during a phase of intense reconstruction following a fire. And some was created deliberately, in your lifetime. When you were small, do you remember when Shrewd ordered that the hearth in the guardroom be rebuilt?”

  “Vaguely. I did not pay much attention at the time. ”

  “No one did. You may have noticed that a wooden facade was added to two walls. ”

  “The cupboard wall? I thought it was built so that Cook had a bigger larder, one that kept rats out. It made the room smaller, but warmer as well. ”

  “And above the cupboards, there is a passageway, and several viewing slits. Shrewd liked to know what his guards were thinking of him, what they feared, what they hoped. ”

  “But the men who built it would have known of it. ”

  “Different craftsmen were brought in to do different parts of the job. I myself added the viewing slits. If any of them thought it odd that the ceilings of the cupboards were so sturdily built, they said nothing. And here we are. Hush. ”

  He lifted a tiny leather flap on the wall and peered into the revealed hole. After a moment, he whispered, “Come. ”

  The silent door admitted us into a privy chamber. There we paused again, while Chade again peered througha peephole, then tapped lightly at the door. “Enter,” Kettricken responded quietly.

  I followed Chade into a small sitting room off the Queen's bedchamber. The connecting door to the bedchamber was closed and a bolt in place. The room was decorated sparsely in the Mountains' severe but restful way. Fat scented candles gave us light in the windowless chamber. The table and chairs were of bare pale wood. The woven mat on the floor and the wall hangings were made of grass worked into a scene of waterfalls tumbling down a mountainside. I recognized Kettricken's own handiwork. Other than that, the chamber was bare. All this I noticed peripherally, for my Queen stood in the center of the room.

  She was waiting for us. She wore a simple gown of Buck blue, with a white and gold kirtle. Her gold hair was dressed close to her head, and crowned only with a simple band of silver. She was emptyhanded. Another woman would have brought her needlework or had set out a platter of food, but not our Queen. She was waiting for us but I did not sense impatience or anxiety. I suspected she had been meditating, for an aura of stillness still clung to her. Our eyes met, and the small lines at the corners of her mouth and eyes seemed lies, for in the gaze we shared no time had passed at all. The courage I had always admired still shone there, and her selfdiscipline was like an armor she wore. Yet, “Oh, Fitz!” she cried low on seeing me, and in her voice there was warm welcome and relief.

  I bowed low to her, and then sank on one knee. “My Queen!” I greeted her.

  She stepped forward and touched my head, her hand a benediction. “Please rise,” she said quietly. “You have been at my side through too many trials for me ever to want to see you on your knees before me. And as I recall, you once called me Kettricken. ”

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  “That was many years ago, my lady,” I reminded her as I rose.

  She took both my hands in hers. We were nearly of a height, and her blue eyes looked deep into mine. “Far too many, for which I fault you, FitzChivalry. But Chade told me, long ago, that you might choose solitude and rest for yourself. When you did, I did not begrudge it to you. You had sacrificed everything to your duty, and if solitude was the only reward you wished, then I was glad to grant it to you. Yet I confess I am more glad to see you return, especially at such a time of crisis. ”

  “If you have need of me, then I am glad to be here,” I replied, almost without reservations.

  “I am saddened that you walk among the folk of Buckkeep, and none know what sacrifices you have made for them. You should have been accorded a hero's welcome. Instead, you walk unknown among them in the guise of a servant. ” Her earnest blue eyes searched my own.

  I found myself smiling. “Perhaps I spent too long in the Mountains, where all know that the true ruler of that kingdom is the servant of all. ”

  For a moment her blue eyes widened. Then the genuine smile that broke forth on her face was like the sun breaking through storm clouds, despite the sudden tears that stood in her eyes. “Oh, Fitz, to hear you say such words is balm to my heart. Truly, you have been Sacrifice for your people, and I admire you for it. But to hear from your lips that you understand that it has been your duty, and took satisfaction in that, brings me joy. ”

  I did not think that was exactly what I had said, and yet I will not deny that her praise eased some of the ancient hurt in me. I pulled back from looking at that too closely.

  “Dutiful,” I said suddenly. “He is why I am here, and much pleasure as I take in this reunion, I would take even more in discovering what has become of him. ”

  My Queen kept possession of one of my hands and held it tightly as she drew me toward the table. “Oh, you were ever my friend, even before I came as a stranger to this court. And now your heart goes with mine in this matter. ”

  She drew a deep breath, and the fears and worries of a mother broke past the control in the monarch's voice as she said, “No matter how I dissemble before the court and it grieves me that I must deceive my own people this way my son is never out of my thoughts for a moment. FitzChivalry, I put the blame for this at my own feet, yet I do not know if my fault was too much discipline for him, or too little, or if I demanded too much of the prince and not enough of the boy, or ”

  “My Queen, you cannot approach this problem from that direction. We must begin from where we are; no good will come of trying to apportion blame. I will tell you bluntly that in my brief time here, I have discovered nothing. Those whom I have questioned speak well of the Prince. No one has divulged to me that he was unhappy or discontented in any way. ”

  “Then you think he was taken?” she broke in, This interruption was so uncharacteristic of Kettricken that I finally grasped the depth of her anguish. I drew out a chair for her, and as she sat, I looked down into her face and said with all the calm I could muster, “I do not think anything yet. I do not have enough facts to form an opinion. ”

  At an impatient sign from her, both Chade and I were seated at the table. “But what of your Skill?” she demanded. “Does it tell you nothing of him? Chade told me that he suspected you and the boy were somehow linked in your dreams. I do not understand how that could be so, but if it is, surely it must tell you something. What has he dreamed these last few nights?”

  “You will not like my answer, my Queen, any more than you liked my answer all those years ago when we searched for Verity. My talent now is as it was then: erratic and unreliable. From what Chade has told me, it is possible that I have occasionally shared a dream with Prince Dutiful. But if it is so, I was not cognizant of it at the time. Nor can I break into his dreams at will. If he has dreamed these last few nights, he dreamed alone. ”

  “Or perhaps he did not dream at all,” Kettricken mourned. “Perhaps he is dead already, or tormented so that he cannot sleep and dream. ”

  “My Queen, you imagine the worst, and when you do, your mind stops at the problem and does not consider the solution. ” Chade's voice was almost severe. Knowing how distraught he was over the boy's absence, his sternness surprised me, until I saw t
he Queen's reaction. Kettricken took strength from his firmness.

  “Of course. You are right. ” She took a breath. “But what can our solution be ? We have discovered nothing, and neither has FitzChivalry. You have counseled me to keep his disappearance a secret, lest we panic the people and precipitate rash decisions. But there have been no demands for ransom. Perhaps we should make public that the Prince is missing. Someone, somewhere, must know something. I think we must announce it and ask the people to help. ”

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  “Not yet,” I heard myself say. “For you are right in saying that someone, somewhere, must know something. And if they are aware the Prince is absent from Buckkeep, and they have not come forward, then they have a reason. And I should like to know what it is. ”

  “Then what do you suggest?” Kettricken demanded of me. “What is left to us?”

  I knew it would chafe her, yet I still suggested it. “Give me a little more time. A day, at most two. Let me ask more questions and sniff about some more. ”

  “But anything could have happened to him by then!”

  “Anything could have happened to him by now,” I pointed out levelly. I spoke calmly the cruel words. “Kettricken. If someone took him to kill him, they have done it by now. If they took him to use him, they are still awaiting our move in this game. If he ran away, then he may yet run home again. While we keep his absence a secret, the next move belongs to us. Let it be known, and others will make that move for us. You will have nobles tearing up the countryside, looking for him, and not all will ubs have his best interests at heart. Some will want to 'rescue' htm to curry favor, and others may think to seize a prize from another weasel's jaws. ”

  She closed her eyes but nodded reluctantly to my words. When she spoke, her voice was strained. “But you know that time runs out for us. Chade has told you that an Outislander contingent comes to formalize Prince Dutiful's affiance? When they arrive a fortnight from now, I must be able to produce him or I risk not only embarrassment but also insult and an end to a carefully wrought truce that I hope to make an alliance. ”

  “Bought with your son. ”- The words leapt out of my mouth before I knew I had thought them.