Fool's Quest (65 page)

“Of course you have. Thank you.”

“Oh, your key, sir. Here. To your new chambers.”

“Thank you.” I accepted it gravely. “I think I shall call on Lord Chade now.”

“As you will, sir, I'm sure.” She curtsied again, this time with a bit of a flourish, then turned and hurried off. I made my way to Chade's chambers, suspecting that he was behind these changes, for some arcane reason of his own. I expected he would explain everything to me.

I tapped on the door, and a servant admitted me. I turned toward his bedchamber, but the serving man waved toward the sitting room instead. I breathed a sigh of relief. He was better, then.

His sitting room was decorated in moss green and acorn brown. A handsome portrait of King Shrewd in his prime hung over the fireplace. A warm and spicy aroma from a steaming pot flavored the air. Chade, attired in a soft dressing gown, was seated by the fire. Shine sat in a cushioned chair across from him, a cup in her hands. She wore a simple and modest dress, and the green brought out her eyes. Her hair was braided and coiled at the back of her neck. Kettricken's influence, I was certain. They both looked toward me as I entered. Shine seemed apprehensive to see me.

But it was Chade who stopped me in my tracks. He smiled at me benevolently. It was an old man's gentle, bemused smile. In the short time since I'd last seen him, he'd aged. I could see the shape of his skull beneath the thinning flesh on his face. His eyes looked almost glassy. I wondered for an instant if he recognized me. Then, “Oh, there you are, my boy. Just in time. Shine has made us some tea. It's lovely. Would you care for some?”

“What kind is it? I don't recognize the fragrance.” I advanced slowly into the room. Chade gestured to a chair beside his own, and I cautiously sank into it.

“Oh, it's tea, you know. Made from spices and whatnot. Ginger, I think. Licorice root, perhaps? It's sweet. And spicy. Very pleasant on a cold day.”

“Thank you,” I said, for Shine had already poured a cup and was offering it to me. I smiled as I took it. “It's almost as if you were expecting me.”

“Oh, it's always nice to have company. I was hoping Lant would come by. Have you met my boy Lant?”

“Yes. Yes, I have. You sent him to me at Withywoods, remember? To be a teacher for my little girl. For Bee.”

“I did? Yes, yes. A teacher. Lant would do well at that. He's a kind soul. A gentle soul.”

He was nodding as he spoke. No. Not nodding. It was a palsy, a shaking of his head. I glanced at Shine. She met my gaze, but said nothing.

“Chade. Please,” I said, not knowing what I asked for. “Are you well?”

“He's well enough,” Shine said, warning me. “When no one makes him fret. Or brings up unpleasant things.” I wondered if she were not in much the same state.

I lifted the cup of tea to my mouth and let it lap against my lip as I smelled it. No herbs that I knew as medicine. I watched Shine take a sip of hers. Her gaze met mine. “There are some calming herbs in the tea as well. But they are very mild.”

“Very mild,” Chade agreed and again gave me an unnervingly genial smile.

I broke my gaze from his and addressed Shine directly. “What's wrong with him?”

She gave me a puzzled look. “My father seems fine to me. He's glad to have me here.”

Chade nodded. “I am that,” he agreed.

Shine spoke quietly. “He's stopped using the Skill to hide his aging. He mustn't use it anymore, nor the herbs he was using.”

I let my gaze wander the room, trying to suppress the panic that was rising in me. From his portrait, King Shrewd looked down on me. His keen glance and determined Farseer chin only reminded me the more sharply of how his mind had faded and faltered before his time, a victim of his wasting illness, his pain and the drugs he took to suppress it. Something in Shine's words snagged on my thoughts.

“How do you know that? That he can't use the Skill?”

She looked mildly startled, as if I'd asked a rude question. “Lady Nettle, the Skillmistress, told me. She explained he had used it to excess, in ways that exceeded his ability to control. She said she could not explain it to me perfectly, as I don't have that magic. But she said he was vulnerable now. That he must not try to Skill, and no one must try to Skill to him.”

I answered the question she didn't ask. “I'm no danger to him. I drank a very strong elfbark tea, to be sure that Vindeliar could not cloak my thoughts and perceptions. It takes away the ability to Skill. And it has not come back.”

“Vindeliar,” she said and went pale. Her calm façade cracked and I saw a brutalized woman clinging fiercely to the reassuring trellis of clean clothing, a warm bed, and regular meals. Once one knows what heartless people can do, it cannot be entirely forgotten. It always remains among the possible things that can befall you.

“You're safe,” I said uselessly.

She looked at me. “For now,” she said quietly. “But Bee is not. She bit him to set me free. And I fled.”

“It's a thing done,” I said woodenly. “Don't dwell on it.”

Silence fell. Chade smiled on. I wondered what other herbs he'd been using.

Shine spoke suddenly. “Badg—Prince FitzChivalry. I want to say I'm sorry.”

I looked aside from her. “You already said that, Shine. When we first found you. It wasn't your fault they took Bee.”

“I'm sorry for more than that,” she said quietly.

I reined us away from that topic. “Do you know why Bee bit the man holding on to you instead of the White gripping her?”

She shook her head. A silence fell in the room and I let it grow. Some things are not made any better by discussing them.

“The Skill,” I said quietly. That brought her eyes back to me. “Has anyone spoken to you about it? That as a Farseer, you may have inherited a talent for it?”

She looked startled. “No.”

“Well.” How did I approach this? Obviously, Chade had not removed the block he had put upon her. Nettle knew she had Skill and knew she was sealed. Was it my place at all to intervene? I took a breath and set myself on the safer path. “Well, you might. I am sure that when they feel the time is right, they will test you for the Skill. And if you possess it, they will give you the training to master it.” I was sure that any such training would be far different from the harsh lessons I'd been subjected to.

“She has it.”

We both turned to look at Chade. His head was still doing that tiny sideways wobble that was almost like a nod.

“I do?” Shine lit suddenly, glowed with excitement.

“You do. Of course you do. And you are strong in it.” Chade's smile grew stronger and for just an instant his green eyes were as piercing as ever as he focused his gaze on her. “Do you not recall how you sought me out in my dreams? How you, untrained and unknowing, used your Farseer magic to find me? My … beloved … daughter.” He spoke each word clearly and separately. His eyes never left Shine's face. Something passed between them, something special and private, and I knew with a lurch what he had done. Her Skill-seal had been words that he was certain only he would ever speak to her. Who else would call her beloved and daughter in the same breath?

Their eyes were locked and I realized they were breathing in unison. Shine's lips formed an unspoken word.
Papa.
The stillness in the room felt like a deep pool. I watched them, unable to tell what was happening, unable to decide if it was wonderful or terrible.

I heard the outer door of Chade's chamber open. Steady's voice preceded him. “You know he isn't supposed to Skill, Fitz!”

“It's not me,” I said, and saw the shock on his face as he entered the room. He looked from Chade to Shine and then opened his eyes wide and in that instant, I knew that he called for Nettle. His gaze flashed back to me. “She should stop! Lady Shine, please, please stop. It may be the death of him.”

“Stop?” she said and her voice was that of a dreamer who speaks in her sleep. “It's my papa. I thought he had forgotten about me. Or abandoned me.”

“Never,” Chade vowed, and the strength in his voice made me wonder if she was not restoring him rather than destroying him.

“I don't know what to do!” Steady confessed.

“Nor I,” I admitted. It seemed a very long time before I again heard Chade's door open. This time it was Nettle, very pink in her cheeks, and a tall woman I had never met before. She seemed to take it all in at a glance. Nettle glanced at her companion. “We separate them. Very gently. I will help Lord Chade restore his walls. See if you can help the girl. Steady, be prepared to help.” My daughter spared me one glance. “It would be better if you were not here. I can feel him plucking at you again, trying to draw you into the current.”

“I'll go,” I said, stifling both my fear and reluctance. I was useless and perhaps worse than useless here. A hindrance to them. I did not doubt what Nettle told me and yet it stung my pride that she dismissed me so that she might do her work. What was Burrich's old saying? As useless as teats on a bull. That was me. I was becoming very weary of being useless and incompetent.

It was hard to leave the room, and harder still to know where to go. I made my way to my new chambers. The key turned smoothly in the lock and I entered. It was a strange and foreign place. All trace of Patience and Lacey's time here had long been tidied away. The chambers, like the rest of Buckkeep Castle, were far grander than they had been when I was a boy at Patience's mercy. Someone had smoothed the bony stone walls with plaster and painted them a soft yellow that reminded me of an old skull. There was a carpet on the floor of the main room, and framed paintings of flowers. The hearth was tidy, with a small fire burning and a hod of logs waiting my need. There were several chairs with embroidered cushions, and a small table with cat's feet on its legs, and nothing at all to suggest that I lived in this room.

In the larger bedchamber, I found my garments neatly stored in a wardrobe. They were the less gaudy attire of Lord Feldspar and a few pieces that Ash had apparently chosen for me. It gave me a turn to see Verity's sword on the wall above my bed. Truly, the lad thought of everything. Or perhaps it had been Spark, I told myself, and wondered why it was so hard for me to reconcile them into one person. My pack from Withywoods was there, and I was relieved to find that my stores of poisons and small tools and weapons were still left to me, as was Bee's book. The battered pack held the only items in the room that were truly my own. I lifted it, opened the cedar chest, and concealed the pack beneath the soft woolen blankets.

I paced around the chambers like a wolf examining the limits of his cage. In the servant's room there was a narrow bedstead, a small chest for clothing, and a basin and ewer. The clothing chest was empty. Doubtless Ash and Spark would be more comfortable staying with the Fool.

There was a pleasant little sitting room, much larger than I recalled it. Doubtless Patience's towers of clutter had diminished the size of the room in my mind's eye. A cursory examination of the walls showed me no signs of hidden doorways. I did note a small notch in the plaster that might have been the opening for a spy-hole. I sat down on the chair and looked out the window. But there was nothing here to occupy my mind or my hands, nothing to distract me from the space where Bee was not. What was I to do with all the empty hours left in my life? I left my bland domicile, made my way to the Fool's chamber, and knocked.

I waited some time before I heard the door unlocked. It was eased open a crack and then with a look of relief, Ash opened it wide for me. “I'm so glad you've come,” the greeting rushed from him. “He's in such a state and I don't know what to do.”

“What's wrong?”

As soon as I stepped inside, Ash closed and locked the door behind me. “He's terrified,” he said simply. “He did not wish to leave the hidden apartments, but Lady Rosemary insisted. She's … I'm no longer apprenticed there. I'm glad to simply work here in Buckkeep Castle as a servant. I know that Lord Chade … but this is not time for me to be worrying you about my situation. All care was taken in moving him here, but he is still in shaking fear for his life. And I don't know how to reassure him.”

The lad looked up at me and then stepped back from the fury on my features. “How dare she!” I burst out. “Where is the Fool?”

“He's in the bedchamber. I brought him here by the secret passages, and I've done my best to bring everything familiar to him here. Physically, he's so much better than he was, but this move has upset him so—”

I knew my way through these apartments. When the Fool had masqueraded as Lord Golden, I'd lived here as his servant Tom Badgerlock. The chambers were much more simply furnished than they had been in the extravagant days of Lord Golden. I went to the door of the bedchamber, tapped loudly, and said, “It's me, Fitz. I'm coming in.”

There was no response. I opened the door slowly to find the room in semi-darkness. The shutters over the window were closed tightly; only the light from the hearth fire lit the room. The Fool was sitting in a chair facing the door. He gripped a dagger in his hand. “Are you alone?” he asked in a shaking voice.

“For now. Ash is right outside the door if we need anything.” I made my voice as even and calm as I could.

“I know you all think I'm silly. But, Fitz, I assure you the danger is real.”

“What I think does not matter. What does matter to me is that you feel safe, so that your body can continue to heal. So. Here we are. Our situation has changed. No one acted out of malice, but I can tell you are badly unsettled.” I kept up a flow of words as I moved closer to him. I wanted him to know where I was as I approached. “I was as surprised as you when I was moved out of my old rooms. And today King Dutiful has told me, quite formally, that I am a prince and not an assassin. Changes for me as well, you see. But what matters, as I started to say, is that I want you to feel safe. So tell me. What can I do to make you feel safe?”