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Fools Quest, Page 59

Robin Hobb


  I was so tired my ears were humming, but as we bade everyone good night and left the gathering, she managed to catch up with us. Out of earshot of the others, she still looked embarrassed as she told us, “I am to inform you, in the strongest possible terms, that you are to return to Buckkeep Castle as soon as you are able. ”

  Riddle and I exchanged a glance. “Was the message from Skillmistress Nettle or King Dutiful?”

  “Yes. She relayed the king’s will in this. ”

  I thanked the Skill-user, and both Riddle and I moved slowly toward our rooms. At a bend in the corridor, I asked him, “How angry is Nettle, do you think?”

  “Very,” he said shortly. And in that terse response, I sensed that he wished to keep that aspect of our fiasco private. For a time I was silent. Nettle was pregnant and should have had a time of peace and happiness as she waited for her child. I had driven a wedge between her and Riddle. I tried to tell myself that it was outside my control, that her sister being stolen had destroyed peace and happiness for all of us. Yet I could not quite convince myself.

  I walked more slowly. “Before we go back to Buck, I want to see the ship they came on. ”

  He shook his head. “It’s not tied up in Salter’s Deep anymore. It was confiscated days ago. Spurman told me that they removed the ship as part of the ambush. The crew claimed to know nothing except that they’d been hired and paid very well to simply stay aboard and wait for their passengers to come back. They came out of the Pirate Isles, and were hired new to the ship and one another. Most of them seemed glad to walk away from it. ”

  “No chart on board with Clerres marked on it?” I was half-jesting, but Riddle took me seriously.

  “Nothing. Literally nothing. No extra clothing left aboard, not a trinket or a shoestring. Only the crew and their bits of possessions. Nothing to indicate there had even been passengers. ”

  Despair gaped like a dry well in front of me. I could not indulge in that. I could not curse nor weep. Such things prevent a man from thinking, and I needed to think clearly. I reached the door of my room and opened it. Riddle followed me in.

  “So. We return to Buckkeep Castle tomorrow,” he told me.

  “So I planned. ”

  “We are ordered back, Fitz. That’s a bit different. ”

  “Oh. ” It took a moment for me to consider all the ramifications of that. Prince FitzChivalry, so recently acknowledged and lauded, was being summoned back to Buckkeep like a recalcitrant page. This was not going to be pleasant for anyone. I grasped abruptly how much of my personal freedom had vanished when Chade had taken my arm and presented me to the court. What had seemed a family matter, my sidestepping my cousin’s request that I not go off on my own, now loomed as a prince directly disobeying his king’s directive. Dutiful had reminded me he was my king, and I’d admitted that to him. And then done as I thought best, as if I were merely Tom Badgerlock. No. Not even Tom Badgerlock should have defied his king that way. I chewed my lower lip.

  Riddle sank down to sit on the edge of my bed. “I see that you understand. ”

  I walked to the window and stared out at the lights of Salter’s Deep. “I wish you hadn’t been dragged into it. ”

  “Oh, Fitz, I dragged myself into it. I could have just reported that I suspected you were going alone, and the Buckkeep Guard would have brought you back. ”

  I turned to stare at him. “Truly?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. They might have just told me to drag you back quietly. A task that neither of us would have relished. ” He gave a small sigh. “No, I got myself into this. ”

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  “Sorry to have put you in that position. ” Loyalty to me or to Nettle, and he’d chosen me. That did not bode well for any of us.

  And me? I’d chosen my duty as a father over my duty as a prince to a king. As I knew I would again. As I must.

  Bee, where are you? My heart cried out for her, and shame wafted over me. Why couldn’t I find and save my child? We’d come so close. I’d seen where she had slept, just days ago.

  Riddle’s voice jolted me. “Fitz. This is a terrible question but it must be asked. At what point do we accept that Bee and Shine are lost to us?”

  I turned wild eyes upon him. “Don’t even say that!”

  “I have to say it. Someone has to ask it. You know as well as I do that they may both be already dead, out in the forest. We have no trail left to follow. The Servants and the Chalcedeans are all dead or fled. ” He came to join me at the window. “We’ve no clues left to follow. The best we can hope now is that they turn up on their own at a farmstead or inn. ”

  “And the worst that can happen is that things remain as they are now. With us having no idea whatever became of them. ”

  For a time, we both stood in silence. I tried to find a thread of hope. “We did not find Vindeliar or Dwalia,” I reminded him.

  “They may be bodies in the forest. Or hiding from us as they did before. They have not left us a trail we can follow. ”

  He was right. Reality and the bleakness of elfbark welled up in me like blood in Ellik’s wound. “I’m so powerless. ” The words burst from me. “Riddle, I had to come here and try to find her. Since Winterfest, she has been gone and I’ve been able to do nothing. Nothing! And now I’ve even less of a trail to follow. ” Agony and anger were one force in me. I wanted to smash everything in the room but most of all, I wanted to destroy myself for how impotent I was. I had cut my hair to my scalp when Molly died, a symbolic destruction and punishment of myself because I had failed to save her. Now I wanted to slash my face, to batter my skull against the wall, to fling myself from the window. I hated myself for my total failure. I was a thing that was so useless as to be evil. I was an assassin and capable of torture, a man bereft of goodness. But even my wickedness was impotent. It had gained me nothing.

  “I do not like the expression on your face,” Riddle said softly. “Fitz, you cannot hold yourself responsible. This was a thing that happened to you, not a thing you did. ” His voice was sympathetic.

  “It was a thing I did not do. A neglected duty,” I said quietly. I turned back to the window and looked down. A drop but not a big enough one. The impulse would not work.

  Riddle knew me too well. “And then if we did find her, that would be the first piece of news she’d have about you. ”

  Slowly I turned away from the easy exit. “Tomorrow we leave for Buckkeep. ”

  Riddle nodded slowly.

  Mornings come, whether we want them or not. I dragged my body from my bed and trusted that my herb-addled mind would catch up with me. Breakfast was interminable and full of pleasant conversations I could scarcely follow. Someone had recognized Ellik as Chancellor Ellik of Chalced, and for some reason it was very exciting that a Buck stable boy had made an end of the old man. Spurman assured me twice that he’d sent word on to Buckkeep Castle concerning exactly who had attempted this peculiar invasion of Buck. My weary mind offered me no response for him, so I simply nodded.

  And finally, finally, we departed Ringhill Keep. I rode at the front of my guard, with Riddle beside me. Perseverance trailed behind us, still leading Bee’s horse, Priss. He looked battered and wan. Lant rode beside him. Riddle leaned over and said quietly that the boy had had his first night drinking with men the evening before, and been feted as a hero for his “first kill. ” He tipped his head toward Lant. “Lucky for the lad, Lant intervened right after he puked the first time. He forbade any more liquor and sent him off to bed. But I expect he has a bit of a head today. ”

  I rode Fleeter. The horse seemed to have recovered from my abuse of her, but exhibited a wariness in contrast with her former eagerness to please me. I let her feel that I regretted how roughly I had used her, but did not try to intrude into her thoughts.

  Foxglove came behind us at the head of our troops. She was displeased with the Rousters and cool toward me. I could tell that h
er efforts to integrate them with my guard were not going smoothly. Yesterday her control of them had been tenuous at best. Today as they formed up with my guard, they still remained as a separate rank at the rear of the formation. I suspected that she was unhappy with me for saddling her with such troublemakers. We had not ridden far before Lant edged his mount closer to mine. He spoke while looking straight ahead. “You humiliated me. You left me drugged and sleeping as if I were a child. ”

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  You are. I shook my head. “Lant, I left you sleeping as if you were a badly injured man who should not have been sent out on such a mission. That was true of Perseverance as well. ” I fabricated some balm for him. “I could scarcely have left the boy there alone. How is your wound?”

  My diversion of the conversation baffled him for an instant. “It’s healing,” he said gruffly.

  “Good. It needs time. Lant, I have a suggestion. It’s a strong suggestion. When we return to Buckkeep Castle, report to Captain Foxglove. Let her direct you in your swordplay, going gently until your muscles are rebuilt. I do not propose that you become a soldier or a member of my guard. ” How to phrase the next part. Become a man? No. I fumbled for words.

  “So they can mock me for my lack of skills? So I could fail again for you?”

  How had he ever become such a bubbling pudding of self-centeredness? Here was another repair task I did not want. “Lant. Muscles in your chest were cut. They need to heal and then grow strong. Let Foxglove help you with that. That’s all I was suggesting. ”

  He was quiet for a time. Then he said, “My father is going to be very disappointed. ”

  “In both of us,” I pointed out.

  He sat back in his saddle. I think he took peculiar comfort from my words.

  The day passed in a way that would have been pleasant at another time. The weather stayed mild for winter. Fleeter recovered enough of her spirits to want to be out in front of the other horses and I was happy to let her be. Motley flew ahead of us, circled back to ride on Per for a time, and then flew ahead again. She seemed just a pet crow today, cawing wordlessly as she flew overhead. Once, when she was perched on Per’s shoulder I asked her, “How many words do you know?”

  She cocked her head at me and asked, “How many words do you know?”

  Per almost smiled as she said, “She sounded just like you. ”

  The well-kept roads avoided the hills and wound through several small towns. In each settlement, we paused to ask for tidings of Bee or Shine, and to tell each innkeeper that there was a large reward for two lost girls. No one had news for us.

  That night we found lodging at an inn. Riddle, Foxglove, Lant, and I had rooms above the kitchens, and they were warm. My guard and Perseverance had a loft over the stables; the Rousters would sleep in the common room. I enjoyed a well-prepared meal and a mug of ale, and an early bed in a clean room, followed by a late-night fistfight when my Rousters did not go to bed but quarreled among themselves. The ruckus woke me; I pulled on trousers and dashed down the steps two at a time. By the time Riddle arrived, I had a black eye and two men on the floor and a third cornered. We exiled all three to the inn’s stables for the night and promised the innkeeper that damages would be paid for. As we climbed back up the stairs, Riddle observed, “Usually princes don’t do that sort of thing. ”

  “I’m not prospering in this role, am I? All the times when I wondered what it would be like to be legitimate and recognized as a Farseer at Buckkeep Castle? I’m finding it more of a liability than a privilege. ”

  “You’ll get used to it,” he promised me doubtfully.

  In the morning I had two fewer Rousters following me. Well, that was two fewer of them for Foxglove to deal with. They’d taken their horses and left their guard tunics. I counted it a small loss. Foxglove had slept through the row in the tavern and I said nothing of it to her. I was sure that word would reach her soon enough.

  The day was overcast with snow clouds and a light breeze that woke sporadically to lift ice crystals against our faces. Riddle and I rode side by side, in a silence full of foreboding. I think we both dreaded our return to the castle. We had resumed our formation of the day before, with Lant and Perseverance riding side by side behind Riddle and me. I heard several snatches of conversation and deduced that their recent battle experience had given them something in common. The boy still led Priss. Her empty saddle was a fresh heartbreak every time I looked at it.

  I felt I was going home with my tail between my legs. And somewhere, somewhere was my Bee and I was no closer to knowing where. The morning passed with little talk between Riddle and me. Sometimes the crow flew overhead and in front of us, then back as if to be sure we were following her. I had grown so accustomed to her that I hardly noticed her. More often she rode on Per’s shoulder, though once I was a bit surprised to see her on Lant’s.

  We crested a gentle rise in the road and saw a rider on a brown horse, trailed by a saddled white horse, on the road ahead of us. I studied them for a moment as they came toward us. The rider was stocky and wore his hood well pulled forward. They were moving at a dogged trot but even at the distance I could tell that the brown horse was being pushed hard and was at the end of his endurance. His head jounced too hard with every step. He tried to slow and his rider kicked him hard. Then Riddle said, “White horse,” at the same time I said, “White coat. ”

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  I called back to Foxglove. “Halt the guard. If I lift my hand, bring them at a gallop. If not, keep your distance. ” She nodded, accepting the command but unhappy at not joining us, as both Riddle I urged our horses to a trot. Lant followed and I knew Perseverance would copy him. I wished they hadn’t. I kept my eyes on the rider. At first he showed no sign he was aware of us. The white fur coat convinced me that this was one of the Servants who had escaped the slaughter. As we got closer, he seemed to rouse himself out of a daze. He looked up at us, screamed, and kicked the brown horse he rode frantically, even as he tried to wheel it about. It turned to the rider’s command and broke into a trot, but we were already in motion and before the trot became a canter we were on either side of him. Riddle leaned forward and grabbed the reins, turning the horse sharply as the rider continued to scream and kick it. I knew that scream.

  “Shine! Shine, stop! You’re safe! Shine, it’s me, Fitz—Badgerlock! And Riddle. We’re here to find you and take you home. You’re safe! Shine. Where’s Bee? Was she with you?”

  The saddled white horse had jigged aside from us. It was evidently only following the brown because it had no idea what else to do. Riddle pulled his horse in, dismounted hastily, and approached Shine. She kicked at him, shrieked again, and then fell off her horse and into his arms. I dismounted, took her reins, and stood stupidly as he patted her back and told her she was all right, she was safe, she was safe now.

  Her wailing slowly faded to deep sobs and then to breathless, shaking weeping. “Bee? Shine, where’s Bee? Shine, look at me. Do you know where Bee is?”

  To Riddle’s gentle questions, she only shook her head wildly and sobbed louder. A terrible certainty was building in me. The white horse came closer. I ignored it until it stood near enough that with a calm step I could take the end of the dangling reins. Two horses. Two saddles. One rider. No Bee. The saddle on the brown horse was definitely Chalcedean-made. The one on the white horse was like nothing I’d ever seen before. High in the front and low in the back. It looked uncomfortable to me.

  Bee, where are you? Did you ride on this horse?

  “Tom Badgerlock. ”

  I turned in surprise. Her voice was thick from weeping. She’d pushed back her hood. Her hair was matted and hung in wads about her face. She’d lost weight, and the boniness of her face made her look more like Chade. Her lips were rough and her cheeks chapped red. She was still breathing hard but she had stepped clear of Riddle. The white fur coat she wore was enormous, hanging in folds around he
r. Her hands clutched her forearms and she hugged her body tight as if she might fall into pieces. She faced me and looked directly into my eyes. This was a different woman from the one who had demanded that all life must stop until we had purchased green stockings for her.

  “Bee,” she said. “They took Bee. ”

  “I know,” I said. I tried to keep my voice calm and even. “They took you and they took Bee. But you’re safe now. ” I drew a breath. “Bee. Do you know where Bee is now?”

  “They took her,” she said again. “They took her into a stone with them. ”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Repercussions

  The depredations of this dragon are just as damaging as if we were facing an invasion by a small army. The creature is “small,” I am told, by dragon standards, and yet her hunger seems insatiable. The shepherds dare not put their flocks out into the higher summer pastures, for even with men and dogs watching over them the dragon swoops in and takes what she pleases. As many cattle and sheep die in their headlong flights as by her claws. The best breeding stock of cattle and horses were, for a time, safe if kept within barns or stables, but even that is no longer the case. There have now been three reports of the dragon using claws and powerful sweeps of her tail to demolish buildings to get at the cattle inside.

  Will homes and humans be next? The situation is intolerable. As king, you must offer us some kind of solution, whether a negotiation or a military response. There are rumors that Skill-coteries are able to communicate with dragons. Those of my shepherds and farmers who have been brave enough to stand and either offer this dragon selected stock or threaten her have been ignored. At the least, cannot you send a coterie here to attempt to reason with this creature?

  —From the Duke of Farrow to King Dutiful

  I stood as if turned to ice. I tried to make my mouth form words. “What do you mean?” I managed at last, but I knew what she meant. As impossible as it seemed, there was only one explanation.

  “Like you did,” she said. “They went into a stone, like you did. And they took Bee with them. ”

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  I felt the world halt around me. My ears rang. “What stone? Where?” I could not find enough air in my lungs to make my questions more than a whisper.