Fool's Quest (74 page)

“Just in time,” she said as I entered. “I'm finished.” She lifted a container and sanded her wet ink.

I opened my mouth to speak and she held up a hand. “Many years ago, I suffered as I have watched you suffer. I waited in idleness, knowing nothing of the fate of my husband. Of my love.” Her voice broke slightly on the word. “When I set out at last, I had nothing to guide me except hope and a map.” She tapped the sand from the vellum and offered it to me. “A map. With Clerres on it. And Fishbones and Wortletree and all the other places you've been seeking. A map based on old drawings and hearsay and tales from that old sailor.”

I stared at her incredulously. “The one from the tavern? He had little enough to tell me.”

She smiled. “Him, and a few others. More than a little I have learned from our good Chade through the years. And informants love to be paid. A few were clever enough to move up the chain and come to me with empty palms waiting. A few coins and they are mine now, Fitz, and with them all they know.” A steaming pot and two cups had been waiting on the table. She wore a little cat-smile as she poured a bit, considered the color, and then filled our cups. As she set one before me, she blushed and said, “Tell me you are proud of me.”

“Always. And astounded!”

Her hand was more delicate than Verity's but her work as precise. She had noted that sailing into Wortletree at low tide was inadvisable, and a few other snippets of information.

We had finished our tea when she asked suddenly, “You don't expect to come back, do you?”

I gaped at her. Then I demanded, “How did you know?”

“You've the look that Verity had when he was carving his dragon. He knew he'd begun something that he would not return from.”

We both fell silent for a time. Then she spoke in a husky whisper. “Thank you for my son.”

I lifted my eyes from the map. I just looked at her.

“I've known for years. How it was done.”

I didn't ask how she knew. Starling had possibly told her. Perhaps Verity himself.

“Your body. Verity's will.”

“I wasn't there, Kettricken. I spent that night inhabiting Verity's body.”

“He's Verity's son. I know.”

And we left it there, and I was not certain if I felt better for her knowing and letting me know she knew or if I felt even odder about it. I only asked her, “Are you telling me this because you don't think I'll come back?”

She met my gaze. “I think you left when you lost Bee, and you haven't truly been here since. Go find out, Fitz. Come back to us if you can. But go do what you must.”

The farewell feast happened the next evening. It was interminable, with more food than anyone should possibly try to eat at a single meal, and far too much to drink. There were many toasts to me and a tableful of farewell gifts and tokens that would have required a baggage train. It was all well meant and the food I managed to eat was delicious, but ever since I had announced my departure, it had felt as if every event were an obstacle to be overcome on my way to finally leaving. Chade was there but not truly present. The Fool did not come.

It was very late when we processed away from the table. There was another round of farewells in Dutiful's sitting room. Nettle wept and Chade dozed off and Elliania gave me a kerchief and asked me to dip it in the blood of any I slew, that she might bury it in the soil of her motherhouse so their souls would never know peace. I think she was a bit crazy, and wondered if my leaving would help her find calm again. Thick was morose. The little man had not been well since he'd returned from Withywoods, and his Skill-song that evening was almost a dirge. Both the princes promised me that if I called for them to come to my aid, they would bring the might of Buckkeep and the Narwhal Clan with them. Shine and Lant were there, flanking their father. Shine promised to take excellent care of Chade in my absence. Lant looked at me like a woeful hound. He had presented himself to me two days earlier, asking again to go with me. I'd refused him again. “What will my father say of this?” he demanded in an effort to sway me when his own demands failed. I was heartless. “I suppose you will find out when you tell him,” I'd said. From Chade's calm demeanor, I doubted they'd had that discussion. It was not my problem. When tomorrow came and I was gone and Lant was not, then he and Chade could deal with it.

When finally I insisted I must sleep so that I could make an early departure, Riddle walked me to the door. “I'll ride with you and your guard tomorrow,” he told me. “But for now, I want you to have this. It's been lucky for me.” His token was a knife, not much longer than my hand, with the blade sharpened on both sides and a blood-groove down the center.

“It goes in easy and pulls out easy and it's quiet,” he told me as he passed it to me in its well-worn sheath. And I left wondering if I knew Riddle as well as I'd believed I did.

I found Ash and Perseverance loitering in the corridor outside my door. Motley was on Ash's shoulder. “Good night,” I told them.

“It's not right to leave him,” Ash told me bluntly. “He's despondent. He's been saying wild things, and I fear what he may do if you go without him. In all his stories, you two are together. How can you leave him?”

“I should go with you. And we should take Bee's horse. If we find her, she'll want to ride her own horse home.”

I looked from one to the other. Both so earnest. I had grown fond of both of them.

But not that fond.

I looked at Ash. “After all of our years together, I believe I'm a better judge of what is good for us than you are. And he is in no condition to go on a long and demanding journey.”

I looked at Perseverance. “And Bee is gone. There is no finding her, and she will never need a horse again.”

Ash's mouth was ajar. Perseverance had gone pale. I heard him trying to get his breath.

I opened the door of my room, entered, and shut them out.

Dawn came before I fell asleep. I had expected a sleepless night and put it to good use. I finished transferring Chade's information on the Skill-portals to the grand map he had given me. I did not wish to trust any portal-stone that I had not seen with my own eyes, lest it be fallen or sunken in a swamp. But if no other escape presented itself and I were hard-pressed, it was good to know which stone might lead where. I was astonished to notice that he had marked some as leading to the city of Chalced. I thought I'd best fight rather than consider those an escape.

I read over Kettricken's notes and studied her map. It held more information than I'd possessed before, but much of it was still vague. I would have to travel to the outer reaches of Chade's map and hope to find new maps of the lands beyond. From what the old sailor had told me, I should make the Spice Isles my destination and from there find a way. I found a faint smile as I considered his final advice to me. “Oh, if I was going there, I'd never start from here.”

Verity's sword was going with me. Once more, it was in a plain leather sheath, the hilt disguised with a wrap of worn leather. I had considered taking an axe; it was definitely my better weapon, but while a man might wear a sword for vanity, no one suffered the weight of an axe for any reason save to use it. I needed to look like an ordinary traveler, a bit of an adventurer, but not a father bent on vengeance. The sword would serve me well, as it always had.

As the day grew gray outside, I dressed carefully. I shaved with warmed water, wondering when next I might have that luxury. My hair had finally grown to the point that I could tie it back in a warrior's tail. I set out my fine cloak and my personal pack. Then, on a whim, I went down to the guards' hall and joined them for a very early breakfast. There was hot porridge and honey, with dried apples chopped into it, an aromatic tea, bread and butter, and slices of last night's roast. My guard was there and many of their Buckkeep fellows and they cheered me with rough jests and suggestions as to how best to deal with anyone who dared to come into Buck and raid a man's home. That was the most of what they knew, that my home had been raided and Lady Shine stolen and then recaptured. Only a few of my personal guard knew of Bee, and those few understood that I did not wish that knowledge to be shared.

So it was that at the formal breakfast I ate little and once more accepted farewell wishes. I wished to be away but I understood this was the fee I owed Dutiful and Elliania, and I did my best to pay it gracefully. Chade was dozing, but I woke him to say good-bye. He seemed to be in a very genial mood and asked if I would play a game of Stones with him. I reminded him that I had to go to Clerres. He promised that he would remember that I had kept my word and said farewell to him. I doubted he would recall it after I closed the door to his room.

I tapped in vain on the Fool's door. He would not answer, even when my knocking shook the door in its frame, and I was not surprised to find it locked. I could have picked that lock. He knew that. But the locked door was a message. He was closed to me. I steadied my breathing and walked away from that stab. It was just as well, I told myself. Better a silence than another shouting quarrel. Who knew what he might fling at me this time?

I returned to what had been my room to gather my personal pack. I was only mildly surprised to find Perseverance waiting by the door. His expression was grim but he brusquely insisted on carrying my pack for me and I allowed him.

Down we went to the courtyard, where I found my guard drawn up in fine formation. The former Rousters now blended almost seamlessly with my troops. Foxglove was there, and Riddle was already mounted. Lant looked pale, and Perseverance had mounted up as well. He did not lead Bee's horse, and that struck a sharp pang with me. I had been harsh to him. Had I enjoyed the boy's foolish hope? Or was it just that I hurt to see him now as hopeless as I was?

Again, there was a crowd of folk to say farewell, and Dutiful and Elliania and the princes in full regalia as they saw me off. We rode out of the gates of Buckkeep Castle to cheers. Motley flew overhead, occasionally cawing to remind us that she accompanied us. As we cantered showily away, I reflected that half my morning had been wasted with pomp.

“Necessary,” Riddle said, as if he had heard my thoughts, and he gave me a humorless grin.

The cantering soon gave way to an easy trot that would eat up the miles. We would overnight at an inn, and press on the next day. I hoped that the following evening would find me at the Skill-stone where Shine had seen my daughter vanish. There I would bid my companions farewell and journey on alone. I would go first to the ancient market-circle where once I had dreamed the Fool transformed.

It was a peculiarly routine journey. The inn had received word to expect us, and received us well. I actually slept that night, and in the morning enjoyed a solid breakfast with Riddle and Lant and Foxglove. We spoke of very ordinary things: that the breakfast bread was fresh and good, and that we hoped the weather would hold fair. Riddle predicted an early spring, and Foxglove said she thought the snow was already softening.

I donned my fine Buck-blue cloak and again we rode forth, with me at the head of a troop of guards. The innkeeper and his family saw us off with cheers, and sweet cakes of oats and dried fruit for our day's journey. We pushed our horses, for I thought to be kind to my guard. If we reached the Skill-stone by afternoon, there was a possibility they could return to an inn for the night instead of having to sleep out in the open. I had no such prospect before me. I knew that once I had passed through that stone I would encounter winter in the Mountains. I only hoped I would not step out into a blasting storm.

My plan from there was clear. Camp for three nights in the ridiculously bulky tent I'd been gifted with. I'd subsist on marching rations for that necessary interval between uses of a Skill-pillar. From there, Chade's chart showed me it was but a Skill-step through the pillar to Kelsingra. In that city, I would seek passage down the Rain Wild River and on to Bingtown and then Jamaillia. In Jamaillia, I was sure to find a ship bound for the Spice Isles. Once there, I'd trust to my luck and Kettricken's map to find my way to Clerres. And blood.

I almost rode past the turn. Riddle was the one who pointed it out. The tracks we had made in the snowy field were smoothed to dimples and pocks in the snow. It seemed years since I had last ridden this way. Years since Bee had passed beyond my reach forever. Years, and a moment ago. The closer we drew to the stone, the more impatient I was to be gone. We entered the forest and followed the fading tracks. When we came to the place where Dwalia and her luriks had camped, Foxglove halted our troops and gave the order for them to set up a camp.

“No need.” I spoke quietly to her. “I'm not going to make this a dramatic moment, Foxglove. I'm going to walk to that rock, touch it, and be gone. And you will turn our guards around and head back toward an inn. I hope that tonight you will sleep in warmth and comfort, and perhaps hoist a tankard to wish me good luck.” I cleared my throat and added quietly, “Inside my chamber, there is a parcel addressed to you. Within it, there are messages for folk that are dear to me. If a year passes with no word from me, then you will know it is time to deliver them.”

She stared at me, then gave a stiff nod.

I dismounted, and she shouted to our guards to hold off on that order. She dismounted, handed her horse to her granddaughter, and followed me. Riddle came after us, and Lant. I glanced back, thinking I would see Perseverance shadowing us, but the boy had vanished. From somewhere, the crow squawked. They'd be together. Just as well.

In the gloom under the leaning evergreens, the winter afternoon already seemed like evening. The shadowed snow and dark trunks were shaded from black to palest gray. In that dimness, it took me a moment to pick out the Skill-stone gripped in the roots and leaning trunk of an evergreen. I approached it without reluctance. Nettle's Skill-users had traveled to the Mountains via this stone and returned days later without incident. It was as safe to use as any Skill-portal, I told myself. I pushed from my memory what had happened the last time I had traveled by stone. I sealed from my heart that this was the very stone that had devoured Bee and those who had taken her.

Only a light snow had fallen since last I had been here, and little of it had penetrated the interweaving needled branches overhead. With a gloved hand, I brushed snow and fallen needles from the face of the stone. I had my sword at my side, a pack on my back, and a large carry-bag on my shoulder. Everything I thought I needed was in the pack and everything the others had insisted I take was in the carry-bag. I had privately resolved I would not carry it for long.

“So,” I said to Riddle. He pulled off his glove as I did mine, and we clasped wrists. Our eyes met briefly and then we both looked aside.

“Travel well,” he said to me, and “I shall try,” I replied. His grip tightened on my wrist and I returned that pressure.
Nettle, you've chosen well,
I Skilled to her
.
Through my eyes, I showed her the man she had chosen.
Care for his heart. It's a true one.
And then I swiftly set my walls to hold in all my fears and worries.

I bade farewell likewise to Foxglove and to Lant. The old captain met my gaze with her steely one and bade me “Uphold the honor of the Farseers.” Lant's hand was sweaty as he gripped my wrist, and he seemed to tremble.

“You'll do fine,” I told him quietly. “Take care of that old man for me. Blame it on me that I would not let you come.”

He hesitated. “I'll do my best to live up to his expectations,” he replied.

I returned him a rueful grin for that. “Best of luck with that!” I wished him, and he managed a shaky laugh.

They were watching me. I held up a hand. I closed my eyes, though I did not need to.
Through the stone,
I said to Nettle and Dutiful. I could feel Thick watching us drowsily.
I'll be sending Riddle right back to you. He should be home by tomorrow evening.

And you will Skill to us as soon as you emerge from the stone?

I already promised I would. I will not leave you worrying. I expect to be told as soon as the child is born.

And I already promised that to you. Go carefully, Da.

I love you all.
And then, because those words sounded too much like a final farewell I added,
Tell the Fool not to be too angry with me. Take care of him until I return.

I turned back to those waiting around me. “Nettle expects you home by tomorrow,” I warned Riddle.

“I'll be there,” he promised me, and I knew that he did not mean just for the next evening.

Foxglove looked weary and Lant looked as if he felt sick. I shared some of his nervousness. The world seemed to waver a bit around me as I stepped toward the stone. As I set my bare hand to the cold stone and pressed firmly against the rune, Lant leapt forward suddenly. He clasped my wrist and exclaimed, “I go with you!”

Someone also clasped me suddenly around the waist. I thought perhaps Riddle would pull me back, but I felt the stone give way and draw me in. Lant came with me, with a drawn-out shout that cut off as the darkness snapped shut around us.

Traveling through a pillar had always felt disorienting. This time instead of twinkling darkness it was as if someone had snapped a hood over my head and then let a horse kick me. I had no sense of traveling a great distance; it was more like a sudden push off a ladder. I fell hard on snowy ground. Lant landed on top of me, and I was crumpled facedown across the lumpy carry-sack and something else. There was snow in my eyes, and the cold that engulfed me was far sharper than that of Buck. The wind had been knocked out of my lungs. I wheezed in snow, coughed it out, and then fought to breathe as I struggled to sit up.

Lant abruptly heaved himself away from me. He sat facing away from me in the snow. His shoulders shook but he made not a sound.

“Let me up!”

I pushed myself up off the noisy sack and wiped my sleeve across my eyes. I heaved myself into a sitting position. The struggling lump in the snow beneath me was wrapped in a butterfly's wing. Perseverance abruptly pushed one corner of the Elderling cloak aside and stared up at me. “What happened? Where am I?” An instant later there was an explosion of black feathers slapping me, and an indignant Motley fled skyward.

“Stupidity happened!” I shouted. Except that I had no breath to shout, so it came out as a gasp. I floundered to my feet and looked around me. Yes. I was where I had expected to be. Loose, fresh snow had smoothed the rumpled tracks Nettle's coterie had left. Around me was the open circle of what had once been a market pavilion, and we had tumbled from one face of the lone standing pillar that centered it. Dark mountain forest glowered at us from all directions. Beneath me, I felt the distant humming of what I thought of as the Skill-road. Constructed long ago by Elderlings, it thrummed with the memories of those who had trodden it. Moss and grass always seemed reluctant to invade its surfaces. The forest leaned in over the decorative stonework that edged the plaza. I set my walls against the muttering of stone-memories.