Civil and Sydel, I was informed sternly by Lebven, had been affianced almost from birth. Well, if not formally, at least it was common knowledge among all the folk of both households that the two were intended for one another. His mother's house and Lord Grayling's family had always been on the best of terms, and the two estates were adjacent to one another. Why should not Lord Grayling's daughter benefit from Lady Bresinga's rapid rise in the world? Old friends should help one another. What was my master thinking, to come between them? Could his intentions be honorable? Would he steal young Civil's bride from him, to bear her off to court and wealth beyond her station? Did he womanize at Buckkeep, was he but toying with her affections? Was he good with a sword? For it was well known that Civil had a temper, and hospitality or no, the boy might challenge him over Sydel.
To all of this I professed ignorance. I was newly come to Lord Golden's service, and to the court at Buckkeep. I knew little of my master's ways or temperament yet. I was as curious as they were as to what would befall them all. The excitement that Lord Golden had stirred was such that I could not steer the conversation to Dutiful or Old Blood or any useful topic. I lingered only long enough to purloin a large chunk of meat. Then I pleaded my duties and departed the kitchen for my room, frustrated of knowledge and deeply concerned for Lord Golden's welfare. As soon as I was in our rooms, I changed back into my humbler blue clothing. The green jerkin had rather suffered from concealing the meat. Then I sat down to await my master's return. Anxiety roiled through me. If he carried this role too far, he might indeed find himself facing young Civil's blade.
I doubted that Lord Golden was any better with a blade than the Fool had been. It would, of course, be scandalous if it came to bloodshed, but young men in Civil's position were not inclined to worry about such niceties.
The depths of the night had passed and we were venturing toward the shallows of dawn when there was a tap at the door. A dourfaced maid informed me that my master required my assistance. Heart in mouth, I followed her, to discover Lord Golden senseless with drink on a bench in a parlor. He sprawled there like a castoff garment. If other folk had witnessed his collapse, they had left. Even the maid gave a small toss of her head as she abandoned me to tend to him. As soon as she left, I half expected him to rouse and tip me a wink that this was all a sham. He did not.
I hauled him to his feet but even that did not stir him. I could either drag him or carry him. I resorted to the undignified expediency of slinging him over my shoulder and toting him back to his chamber like a sack of grain. I dumped him unceremoniously onto the bed, and fastened the door behind us. Then I dragged off his boots and shook him out of his jacket. As he fell back onto the bed, he said, “Well, I did it. I'm certain of it. I'll apologize tomorrow, most abjectly, to Lady Bresinga. Then we'll leave immediately. And all will be relieved to see us go. No one will follow us, no one will suspect we track the Prince. ” His voice wavered toward the end of this speech. He still had not opened his eyes. Then, in a strained voice he added, “I think I'm going to vomit. ”
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I brought him the washbasin and set it on the bed next to him. He crooked an arm around it as if it were a doll. “What, exactly, did you do?” I demanded.
“Oh, Eda, make it all stand still. ” He clenched his eyes tightly and spoke. “I kissed him. I knew that would do it. ”
“You kissed Sydel? Civil's intended?”
“No,” he groaned, and I knew a shortlived moment of relief. “I kissed Civil. ”
“What?” csv, “I had gone to piss. When I came back, he was waiting for me outside the parlor where the others were gaming. He grabbed my arm and all but dragged me into a sitting room where he confronted me. What were my intentions toward Sydel? Did not I grasp that they had an understanding?”
“What did you say?”
“I said Ê” He paused abruptly and his eyes grew round. He leaned toward the basin, but after a moment he only burped gassily and lay back. He groaned, then continued: “I said I understood their understanding, and hoped that perhaps we could come to an understanding of our own. I clasped his hand in mine. I said I saw no difficulty. That Sydel was a lovely girl, as lovely a girl as he was a boy, and that I hoped we might all become close and loving friends. ”
“And then you kissed him?” I was incredulous.
Lord Golden screwed his eyes shut. “He seemed a bit na'ive. I wanted to be sure he took the fullness of my meaning. ”
“Eda and El in a tangle,” I swore. I stood up and he groaned as the bed moved beneath him. I walked to the window and stared out. “How could you?” I demanded of him.
He took a breath and strained mockery crept into his voice. “Oh, please, Beloved. You needn't be jealous. It was the most brief and chaste kiss you can imagine. ”
“Oh, Fool,” I rebuked him. How could he make a jest of something like this?
“It wasn't even on the mouth. Just a warm press of my lips to the palm of his hand, a single flick of my tongue. ” He smiled feebly. “He snatched it away as if I had branded him. ” Suddenly he hiccuped loudly and then made a sour face. “You're dismissed. To your room, Badgerlock. I've no more need of you tonight. ”
“Are you certain?”
He nodded, a short vehement nod. “Go away,” he said plainly. “If I'm going to puke, I don't want you watching me. ”
I understood his need to preserve that much dignity. He had little enough left. I retreated to my room and shut the door. I busied myself with packing my things. A short time later, when I heard the sounds of his misery, I did not go to him. Some things a man should do alone.
I did not sleep well. I longed to touch minds with my wolf, but dared not allow myself that comfort. Necessary they might be, yet I still felt dirtied by the Fool's political manipulations. I longed to live the direct and clean life of a wolf. Toward dawn, I came out of a doze to the sound of the Fool moving about in his chamber. I found him sitting at the small table looking haggard. Somehow the fresh clothing he had donned only made him look the more rumpled. Even his hair looked sweaty and disheveled. He had a little box in front of him and a mirror. As I watched, puzzled, he dipped his finger in something and wiped it under his eye. The shadow there deepened to a pouch. Then he sighed. “I hate what I did last night. ”
I did not need him to explain. I tried to ease his conscience. “Perhaps it was a kindness. Perhaps it is better they discovered, before they wed, that Sydel's heart is not as constant as Civil believed. ”
He shook his head, refusing the comfort. “If I had not led, she would not have followed in that dance. Her first sallies were but a girl's coquetry. I think it as instinctive for a girl to flirt as it is for boys to show off their muscles and daring. Girls of her age are like little kittens pouncing at grass to practice their hunting skills. They do not yet know the meaning of the motions they make. ” He sighed, and went back to his little box of colored powders.
Silently I watched as he not only made himself look more ill, but added a decade to his years by delineating the lines in his face.
“Do you think that's necessary?” I asked him as he snapped the little box shut and handed it to me. I tucked it back into his case, which was, I noted, already neatly packed for our journey.
“I do. I wish to be sure that the glamour I put over Sydel is completely broken before I depart. Let her see me as substantially older than she is, and dissolute. She will wonder what she was thinking, and flee back to Civil. I hope he will have her. It would be better than her pining after me. ” He gave a melodramatic sigh, but I knew his ridicule was for himself. This morning, Lord Golden's fa Êade was fractured and the Fool shone forth from the cracks.
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“A glamour?” I asked skeptically.
“Of course. No one is invulnerable to me if I choose to enchant them. No one but you, that is. ” He rolled his eyes at me dolorously. “But there is no time fo
r me to mourn that. Now you must go forth and make it known that I wish a private moment with Lady Bresinga. Then go and tap at Laurel's door and let her know that we ride soon. ”
By the time I returned from the second half of my errand, Lord Golden had departed the room to his meeting with Lady Bresinga. It was a very brief meeting, and when he returned, he indicated that I should take our bags down immediately. He did not stop to eat anything, but I had already purloined all the fruit that had been in our room. We would survive, and he was probably wiser to avoid food for a time yet.
Our horses were brought around. Lady Bresinga descended to wish us a chill farewell. Not even the servants deigned to notice our departure. Lord Golden offered yet another apology, attributing much of his behavior to the fine quality of her wines. If this flattery was meant to appease her, it failed. We rode slowly from her courtyard, Lord Golden setting a very easy pace for us. At the foot of the hill, we turned toward the ferry. Only when the line of trees along the road hid us from the manor's view did he halt and ask me, “Which way?”
Laurel had been riding in a mortified silence. She had said nothing, but I gathered that in humiliating himself, Lord Golden had daubed her with the same brush. Now she looked shocked as I said, “This way,” and turned Myblack off the road and into the sundappled forest.
“Don't wait for us,” he told me brusquely. “Go as swiftly L as you can to close the gap. We'll catch up as we may, though my poor head may hold us back a bit. The worry now is that we may lose his trail. I am certain Laurel can follow yours. Go now. ”
I wanted no more than that. I saw the purpose of his order at once. It would allow me to be alone when I overtook Nighteyes and to confer with him privately. nodded once and set my heels to Myblack. She sprang forward willingly, and I let my heart lead us. I did not bother looping back to where I had last seen the wolf, but reined her north and east to where I knew he was today. I let a tiny thread of my awareness tug at him to let him know I was coming and felt the twitch of his response. urged Myblack to greater speed.
Nighteyes had covered a surprising amount of ground. I did not let myself worry about whether or not Laurel could easily track me. My drive now was to rejoin my wolf, see that he was well, and then push on in pursuit of the Prince. My uneasiness for him had been steadily swelling.
The day was hot, summer's last sprawl across the land, and the sun beat down on us even through the thin shade of the trees. The dry air seemed laden with dust that sucked the moisture from my mouth and clung to my eyelashes. I did not bother trying to find trails but pushed Myblack through the forested hills and down into the dales between them. Lusher vegetation showed where creeks sometimes ran, but their waters seeped under the surface now. Twice we crossed streams, and each time I stopped to let Myblack water and to drink deeply myself. Then we pushed on.
By early afternoon, I had an indefinable conviction that Nighteyes was near. Before I saw him or scented him, began to get the strange feeling that I had seen this terrain before, that something about those trees ahead was oddly familiar. I pulled in the horse and slowly scanned the hills around me, only to have him step out from a patch of alder brush scarce a stone's throw away. Myblack flinched and then focused her full attention on him. I set a hand to her neck. Calm. No need to fear. Calm.
Too tired and not hungry enough to chase you, Nighteyes added helpfully.
“I brought you meat. ”
I know. I smell it.
I had scarcely unwrapped it before it was gone. I wanted to look at his injuries, but knew better than to bother him with that while he was eating. And as soon as he had finished eating, he gave himself a shake. Let's go.
Let me look at
No. Maybe tonight. But while they have light, they travel, and so must we. They already have a good start on us, and the dry soil holds their scents poorly. Let's go.
He was right about tracking them. The dry ground resisted both print and scent. Before the afternoon was over, we had twice been stymied, and had only rediscovered their trail by casting for it in a wide circle. The shadows were growing long when Lord Golden and Laurel caught up with us. “I see your dog has found us again,” she observed wryly, and I could think of nothing to say in reply.
“Lord Golden tells me that you track the Prince, that a servinggirl told you the Prince had fled north?” There was question in her voice, and her mouth was flat with disapproval. I did not know if she hoped to catch Lord Golden in a lie, or if I was supposed to have seduced someone for the information.
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“She didn't know he was the Prince. She simply called him a lad with a hunting cat. ” I tried to think of something that would divert her from more questions. “The trail is poor. Any help you could give me would be welcome. ”
My ruse worked. She proved an able tracker. As the light went out of the day, she picked up small signs that I might have missed, and thus we kept following them long past the hour when I would have said the light was too poor. We came to a creek where they had stopped to water. The spoor of two men, two horses, and the cat were all plain in the damp soil at the water's edge. There we decided to make camp for the night. “It's better to stop tracking ; while we know we are on the right trail than to wait- until we are not certain, and have confused things with our own tracks. Early tomorrow we will start again,” Laurel announced.
We made a bare camp, little more than a tiny fire and our blankets beside it. Food was in short supply, but at least we had plenty of water. The fruit I had taken from our room was warm and bruised but welcome. Laurel carried, from habit, some twists of dried meat and travel bread. There was precious little of it, and she unwittingly bought much good favor from me when she announced, “We don't need the meat as much as the dog does. We have both fruit and bread. ” Another woman, I thought, might have ignored the wolf's hunger and hoarded the meat for the next day. Nighteyes, for his part, deigned to take it from her hand. And afterward, when I insisted on looking at his scratches, he did not snarl when she joined me, though she was wise enough not to attempt to touch him. As I had suspected, he had licked most of the unguent away. The scratches were scabbed closed and the flesh beside them did not look too angry. I decided against putting more ointment on them. As I put the unused pot away, Laurel nodded her head in quiet agreement. “Better dry and sealed than greased too well and the scab softened too much. ”
Lord Golden had already stretched out on his blanket. I surmised that neither his head nor his belly were yet calm. He had spoken little throughout our campmaking and sparse meal. In the gathering dark, I could not tell if his eyes were closed or if he stared up at the sky.
“Well. I suppose he has the right of it,” I said, gesturing at him. “Early to bed, and an early start tomorrow. Perhaps, with luck, we'll overtake them. ”
I think Laurel assumed Lord Golden was already asleep. She lowered her voice. “It will take some hard riding, as well as a measure of luck. They ride assuredly, knowing where they ate bound, while we must go carefully lest we lose them. ” Laurel cocked her head and studied me L.
across the small fire. “How did you know when to leave the road to find their trail?”
I took a breath and chose a lie at random. “Luck,” I replied quietly. “I had a feeling they would be going in this direction, and when I struck their trail, we followed it. ”
“And your dog had the same feeling, which is why he had gone ahead of you?”
I just looked at her. The words rose to my tongue without my volition. “Maybe I'm Witted. ”
“Oh, yes,” she replied sarcastically. “And that is why the Queen trusts you to go after her son. Because you are one of those she most fears. You are not Witted, Tom Badgerlock. I've known Witted folk before; I've endured their disdain and snubs for folks who do not share their magic. Where I grew up, there were plenty of them, and in that place and time, they did little to conceal it. You are no more Witted than I am, th
ough you are one of the best trackers I've ever ridden with. ”
I did not thank her for the compliment. “Tell me about the Witted folk you grew up with,” I suggested. I smoothed a wrinkle out of my blanket and lay back on top of it. I closed my eyes almost all the way, as if I were only mildly interested in her words. The moon, a paring less than full, looked down at us through the trees. At the edge of the fire's light, Nighteyes was diligently licking himself. Laurel fussed for a moment with her own blanket, tossing small stones out from under it. Then she smoothed it to the earth and lay back on it. She was silent for a moment or two and I did not think she was going to answer me.
Then, “Oh, they were not so bad. Not like the tales folk tell. They did not turn into bears or deer or seals at the light of the full moon, nor did they eat raw meat and steal children. Still, they were bad enough. ” “How?”
“Oh. ” She hesitated. “It just was not fair,” she said at last, with a sigh. “Imagine never being sure that you were alone, for some little bird or lurking fox might carry theeyes and ears of your neighbor. They took full advantage of their Wit, for their animal partners forever told them where the hunting was best or the berries first ripened. ”
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“Were they that open that they were Witted? Never have I heard of such a village. ”
“It was not that they were open about what they were, so much as that I was excluded for what I was not. Children are not subtle. ”
The bitterness of her words shocked me. I recalled, abruptly, how the rest of Galen's coterie had treated me with disdain when I could not seem to master the Skill. I tried to imagine growing up amidst such snubbing. Then a thought intruded. “I thought your father was Huntsman for Lord Sitswell. Did not you grow up on his estate, then?” I wanted to know where this place was, where Witted ones were so common their children had come to expect it of their playmates.
“Oh. Well, but that came later, you see. ”
I was not sure if she lied then, or if she had lied earlier, only that the untruth hung almost palpably between us. It made an uncomfortable silence. My mind darted amongst the possibilities. That she was Witted, that she was an unWitted child in a family with Witted siblings or parents, that she had made the whole tale up, that all of Lord Sitswell's manor was riddled with Witted servants. Perhaps Lord Sitswell himself was of the Old Blood. Such speculation was not entirely useless. It prepared the mind to sort whatever other information she might toss my way into the appropriate possibilities. I barkened back to an earlier conversation we had had, and found a chance remark that put a chill down my back. She had said she would know these hills well, having spent time not far from Galeton, amongst her other folk. Chade too had mentioned something of that. I tried to find a way to renew the conversation.