“Thank you, sir. It is. ”
“Should I make him a poultice for that cheek? I know one that can draw the swelling down by morning. ” Patience looked very pleased to be put in charge of Perseverance.
“Do you? Well, then, you should do that also, and I’ll be pleased to see how well it works by the morning. ” I started to leave and then remembered the pride of a boy. I turned back. “Perseverance. You are to stay well away from any of the Rousters. Am I understood?”
He looked down. “Sir,” he acknowledged me unhappily.
“They will be dealt with. But not by you. ”
“They’re a bad lot,” Patience said quietly.
“Stay clear,” I warned them both, and left the stables.
Chapter Twenty-One
Vindeliar
So let us speak of forgetfulness. We all recall episodes of forgetfulness. We have missed a meeting with a friend, burned the bread, or set down an object and forgotten where we put it. That is the forgetting we are aware of.
There is another kind, one we seldom think about. Until I mention the phase of the moon, chances are that it is not in your thoughts. It is pushed aside by the food you are eating, or the path you are walking upon. Your mind is not fixed upon the moon, and so for that moment you have forgotten it. Or, perhaps it is better to say, you are not remembering that bit of information at this time.
If I enter the room as you are fastening your shoe, I can say, “There will be a lovely moon tonight,” and then you will call it to mind. But before I call it forth for you, you have forgotten the moon.
One can swiftly understand that for most moments of our lives, we have forgotten almost all of the world around us, except for what currently claims our interest.
The talent of the part-Whites is most often to be able to glimpse the future in dreams. There are a rare few who can find a future that is but a breath away, a future in which a chosen person will not be remembering that which we wish to hide from him. Those rare few can persuade this person to remain in that non-remembering state. And thus one with that rare talent can render an event or person almost invisible, almost forgotten. We have records of part-Whites who could do this and hold it for a single person. We have records of some few who could cause up to six persons to continue forgetting something. But in the young student Vindeliar, I believe we have found a truly extraordinary talent. Even at seven years old, he can master the minds of twelve of my students and cause them to forget hunger. And so I ask that he be given over to me, to train specifically in that capacity.
— From the Servants’ Archives, Lingstra Dwalia
I was better. Everyone told me so, even Shun. I was not sure they were right, but it was too much trouble to argue with them. My skin had finished peeling and I no longer had a fever. I did not tremble and I could walk without staggering. But it was harder to listen to people, especially if more than one person was talking at once.
The traveling had become harder. And there was more tension between Dwalia and Ellik. We had to cross a river and they wasted most of an evening arguing about where. It was the first time I’d seen conflict between them. They had a map, and they stood not at our fire nor at the Chalcedeans’ but between the two and pointed and argued. There was a ferry at one village. Dwalia argued it would be too hard for Vindeliar. “Not only must he keep anyone else waiting to cross from recalling us, he must fog the ferrymen. Not once, but three times before we have all the sleighs and horses across. ”
There was a bridge that Dwalia favored, but to reach it we would have to travel through a large town. “It is the perfect place for an ambush,” Ellik objected. “And if he cannot fog the ferry workers, how can he fog a city?”
“We travel in the dead of night. Swiftly through the city, across the bridge, and then swiftly away from the trading town on the other side. ”
I leaned against Shun. Her whole body was tense, she was so focused on eavesdropping. I was tired of them talking and longed for quiet. Quiet and real food. The hunting had been bad and all we had had for two days was porridge and the brown soup. The sleighs were loaded, the horses harnessed. The Chalcedeans were mounted and waited in formation. The luriks stood by their mounts. All were waiting for Ellik and Dwalia to find an agreement. The bridge tonight or the ferry tomorrow? I didn’t care. “How did they get to this side of the river in the first place?” I asked Shun quietly.
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“Shut up,” she said in such a snip of voice that only I heard it. That had made me struggle to be alert and hear more.
Dwalia was speaking. I could tell she was nervous. Her hands were fists, clasped to her bosom. “The ferry is too close to Buckkeep. We need to cross soon and then be away. Once we are across the river, we can go through the hills …”
“The hills again. Unless you are willing to travel on the roads, the sleighs will bog down in the unpacked snow,” Ellik spat. “Abandon the sleighs. They have only slowed us down since you stole them. ”
“We no longer have the cart. We’d have to abandon the tents. ”
“Then leave them. ” Ellik shrugged. “We will travel more swiftly without them. Your female insistence on these comforts is what slows us down. ”
“Don’t look at them,” Shun hissed by my ear. I’d been staring. They did not usually quarrel for long. Usually Vindeliar came, and smiled and bobbed, and then we did as Dwalia wished. I slitted my eyes and pretended to be dozing. I could see Dwalia’s frustration. She glanced over at us and Shun leaned forward and poked at the dying fire.
Then Vindeliar came wandering over. He was smiling as he always was. He paused by our fire and looked around, puzzled. “Why aren’t you on the sleigh? Shouldn’t we leave soon?” The night was darkening around us. Usually by that time we were well away from the day’s campsite.
Dwalia lifted her voice to respond to him. “Yes. We should be leaving very soon. Be patient, Vindeliar. Come wait with me while Ellik decides what we must do. ”
Then, for the first time, I watched and saw clearly what Vindeliar did. He smiled and almost wriggled like a chubby little boy as he sidled up to Dwalia. He looked at Ellik, tilting his head. The man scowled at him. Dwalia spoke softly. “So, as the duke has said, he considers the ferry crossing too dangerous for us. It is much too close to Buckkeep. But if we make haste, he says we could reach the bridge tonight. And perhaps cross and even be in the foothills before the sun is very high. And thence to Salter’s Deep and the ship. ”
Ellik scowled. “That is not what I said,” he growled.
Dwalia was suddenly and immediately apologetic. She clasped her hands under her chin and bowed her head. “I am so sorry. What was it you had decided?”
He looked well pleased at her chastened demeanor. “I decided we would take the bridge. Tonight. If you can muster your lazy folk and get them mounted and on the road, we may well be in the foothills before the sun is too high. ”
“Of course,” Dwalia said. “When you put it like that, it’s the only sensible thing to do. Luriks! Mount! Commander Ellik has made his decision. Odessa! Get the shaysim into the sleigh right away. Soula and Reppin, get to the final loading! He wishes us to depart immediately. ”
And Ellik had stood, smiling with satisfaction to see us all scramble to his orders. Snow was kicked over the dying fires, and I was hurried into the sleigh. I feigned weakness and the luriks quickly gave me over to Shun’s care. Vindeliar and Dwalia were the last to climb on board. I had never seen anyone look more satisfied than the two of them.
Ellik barked his commands and our company began to move. When we had gone a little way, I breathed to Shun, “Did you see that?”
She misheard me. “I did. We are not far from Buckkeep. Be quiet. ”
And I was.
We made the crossing that night. As we drew closer to the river town, Vindeliar left the sleigh. He mounted a horse and rode at the head of our procession beside Ellik. An
d later that morning, when we finally reached a forested area of the foothills and made a camp, Ellik bragged to all about how simple it had been. “And now we are on the northern side of the Buck River, with little between us and our goal but a few small towns and the hills. As I told you. The bridge was our best choice. ”
And Dwalia smiled and agreed.
But if she and Vindeliar had tricked him into choosing the bridge instead of the ferry, it still did not make our journey through the hills any easier. He had been right about the sleighs. Dwalia insisted we must do our best to avoid roads, and so the soldiers and their horses broke trail for the heavier beasts that pulled the sleigh. Our passage was not easy and I could tell that Ellik chafed at how little we moved forward each night.
Shun and I had little time to speak privately. “They mentioned a ship,” she said to me once as we crouched in the bushes, relieving ourselves. “That may give us a chance of escape, even if we must leap into the water. Whatever happens, we must not let them take us out to sea. ”
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And I agreed with that, but wondered if we would have any opportunity to flee our captors.
I was slowly recovering, but the poor food and the constant travel and sleeping cold made me feel as if they created an illness of their own. One evening as we rose to commence our route, I felt almost dizzy with hunger for something more sustaining than porridge. As I followed Shun from the tent to the fireside, I spoke carelessly to her. “I’m going to die soon if I don’t get a real meal. ”
Several of the others halted and turned to stare at me. Alaria lifted a hand to cover her mouth. I ignored the gawkers. As always, the luriks had built two campfires, one for us and one for the soldiers. The luriks did all the cooking, but there was no shared meal at the end of the day’s rest. Always two of them carried a steaming pot of the porridge they cooked and left it with the soldiers. We always ate separately. Tonight the soldiers had killed something and were roasting it over the fire. Their fire was closer to ours than it usually was, for the clearing we were in was small. The meat smelled very good, and I snuffed at the hearty scent on the cold night air.
Careful of that, too, Wolf-Father warned me. I looked around our fireside and then frowned to myself. “Where is Vindeliar?” I asked.
“He goes ahead of us. We must travel on the roads tonight. We will pass through a little town and he goes to smooth the way for us,” Dwalia told me.
I decided that she only spoke to me in the hope of having me say something back to her. I took a chance. I sniffed, loudly. “The meat smells good,” I said and gave a small sigh.
Dwalia folded her lips. “A serving of that meat would cost more than any here are willing to pay,” she said sourly.
I had not realized that the soldiers had been listening in. One brayed a boorish laugh. “For a piece of meat from the Buck woman we’ll give you a piece of this rabbit!” Then they all laughed. Shun had taken a seat beside me on the log. She huddled into herself, going smaller. Panic grew in me. She was the adult whom my father had bade look after me. I could not tell if the look on her face was anger or fear. But if she was afraid, how much more terrified should I be? It made me more frightened than I’d ever been, and somehow angrier, too. I stood up.
“No!” I shouted the word at the leering men. “That never happens in any future I see. Not even the one in which her hidden father leaves every one of you in bloody shreds!” I swayed, sat down suddenly, and would have fallen if Shun had not caught me as I collapsed toward her. I felt sick. I had given away a piece of my power. I had not meant to share that dream. It still made no sense to me. They had not been men in the dream but pennants, hung in tattered shreds from a laundry line, dripping blood. A dream that made no sense. I could not have said why I mentioned a hidden father.
“Shaysim!”
There was shock in Dwalia’s tone. I turned my face toward her. I looked into her disapproving eyes and tried to appear like a younger child surprised in mischief.
“Shaysim, it is not our way to speak dreams to any who might be listening. Dreams are precious and private things, our guideposts to the many paths that exist. Choosing among the paths requires great knowledge. When we reach Clerres you will learn many things. One of the most important things will be to record your dreams privately or only with a scribe chosen for you. ”
“Clerres?” The old soldier, Ellik, had come to stand behind Dwalia. He stood straight but his belly still pushed out from his vest. In the light of the fire, his eyes were pale like shadowed snow. “After we board the ship, we are bound directly for Chalced, and Botter’s Bay. That was our agreement. ”
“Of course,” Dwalia agreed smoothly. Despite her bulk, she lifted herself gracefully from her crouch to stand beside him. Did she avoid having him stand over her?
“And I won’t have bad luck wished on me and my men. Certainly not by a moon-eyed pup like him. ”
“The boy meant nothing. You need not be concerned. ”
He smiled at her, an evil old man’s confident smile. “I’m not concerned at all. ” Then, without warning, he kicked me in the chest. I flew backward off the log, landing on my back in the snow. It knocked the air out of me. I lay gasping. Shun leapt up—to flee, I think—but he backhanded her across the face, knocking her sideways into a flock of luriks who had risen like birds to flutter to our aid. I expected them to fling themselves on the leader of the soldiers, to swarm over him and pin him down as they had the handsome rapist. Instead they seized Shun and dragged her away.
I felt Dwalia’s fear soar. In a flash of insight, I realized that fog boy was away from the camp, telling people that they would not notice when we moved through their village tonight. Vindeliar was not here to exert his strength over Commander Ellik, so she stood alone against him. Odessa circled the log and seized me under the arms. She dragged me backward through the snow as Dwalia spoke. She seemed calm. Could no one else sense the fear that stormed inside her?
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“He’s just a boy, with a boy’s way of shouting when he is angry. Or frightened. Were not you once a boy yourself?”
He looked at her flatly, not taken in by her effort at all. “I was a boy once. I was a boy who saw my father strangle my older brother for failing to show him respect. I was a smart boy. I needed only one lesson to learn my place. ”
Odessa had dragged me to my feet. She stood behind me, her arms crossed over me to hold me up. I still didn’t have my breath back. When Commander Ellik pointed his thick-nailed finger at me, I gave up any thought of taking a breath. “Learn. Or die. I don’t care what name they call you by, boy, or what value they place on you. Still that tongue, or you and your whore-tender will be thrown to my men. ” He turned and stalked away.
At last, I drew air into my lungs. I desperately needed to piss out my fear.
Then Dwalia spoke, boldly calling her words after the man. “That is not our agreement, Commander Ellik. If this boy is harmed in any way, we will not be obliged to pay you when we reach Botter’s Bay. The one who holds the gold will not release it to you unless I am alive to tell him to do so. And unless the boy is unharmed when we arrive there, I will not tell him to pay you. ”
Her tone was firm but reasonable. On another man, perhaps it might have worked. But as Ellik turned back to her with a snarl on his face, I suddenly knew that she should not have mentioned money, as if money could rule him. Money was not what he lusted for.
“There is more than one way to turn you and your pale servants and your precious boy into gold. I need not even wait until we reach Botter’s Bay. There are slavers still in every port in Chalced. ” He glanced about him at the staring luriks and spoke with disdain. “Your pretty white horses might fetch me a better price than your bloodless serving girls and flimsy men. ”
Dwalia had gone pale and still.
He lifted his voice to fill our night. “I am a Chalcedean, and a comm
ander and a lord, not by birth but by virtue of my own good sword-arm. I am not ruled by whining women or cowed by whispering priestesses. I do as I think best for myself and the men who have sworn to me. ”
Dwalia pulled herself straighter. Her followers had bunched like sheep, each striving to be behind someone else. Odessa still held me in front of her. Was she bravely protecting me or using me as a shield? Shun had recovered herself. She stood alone and apart from the luriks and stared fiercely at the Chalcedeans. I had breath in my body now. I readied myself to run.
Stillness. Be still as the hunter and listen.
I settled myself into my motionless body. Dwalia mastered her fear and spoke back to Ellik. Was she insane? Or so used to being in command that she did not see the weakness of her position? “Your men are sworn to you. Promised to you, then? And you believe in their promises when you do not honor your own? Promised to you, just as you gave your word to me when we set our bargain? A generous advance on the payment was given to you, that you need not loot. But loot you did, in defiance of my order. You promised there would be no violence beyond what must be. Yet there was. Foolish destruction, breaking doors and slashing tapestries. Leaving signs of our passage that need not have been left. Killing beyond what was needed. Rapes that served no useful purpose. ”
Ellik stared at her. Then he threw back his head and laughed, and for a moment I saw him as he might have been in his youth, wild and reckless. “No useful purpose?” he repeated. He roared with laughter again. His men were appearing, by twos and threes, to stand in witness. They shared his mirth. I knew that his display was actually for them. “There speaks a woman who knows nothing of her true purpose in the world. But let me tell you, I am certain that my men found those women useful enough. ”
“You broke your word to me!” Dwalia tried to put certainty and accusation in her voice. Instead she sounded like a whining child.
He cocked his head to look at her, and I saw on his face that she had become even less powerful in his eyes. So insignificant that he bothered to explain the world to her. “A man has his word. And he can give his word to another man, for both of them know what that means. For a man has honor, and to break his word to another man defiles his honor. The breaking of a man’s word merits death. But all know that a woman cannot give her word to anyone, for women cannot possess honor. Women promise, and later they say, ‘I did not understand, I did not mean it that way, I thought those words meant something else. ’ So a woman’s word is without worth. She can break it, and always she does, for she has no honor to defile. ” He gave a snort of derision. “It is not even worth killing a woman who breaks her word, for it is what women do. ”