Fool's Quest (34 page)

So. What is the plan?
This from King Dutiful.

Tomorrow, early, I return to Buckkeep. I intend to share all this with the Fool and see if he can make sense of it.

Is it wise, to use the stones again so soon?
This from Nettle.

Need demands it,
I responded.

And I, also.
Chade surprised me.

I started to object and then silenced myself. His daughter was at as great a risk as my own. Who was I to warn him to avoid using the stones again?

Lord Golden,
Dutiful began, and then halted the thought.

What of him?
I demanded, my heart sinking.

He was extremely upset that you were gone.
Dutiful's dismay was plain.
There was no reasoning with him.
He shouted and ranted like a spoiled child.

Like a terrified child, I thought to myself.

He said that he must go with you, that you must not leave him. We did our best to calm him, but to no avail. At last he became exhausted and went back to his bed. We thought he would sleep long, and we left him alone. But he must have arisen shortly after we left him. And somehow, he tottered from Chade's old lair out into the main corridors of Buckkeep and almost to the stables. He was found in the morning, facedown in the snow there. Fitz, he is worse, much worse, than when you left here. I'm sorry.
Dutiful's apology betrayed what he expected. The Fool was dying.

I'd lost everything. Not just my friend, but any clues to what the kidnappers would do with my daughter. A terrible weariness engulfed me, followed by numbness. I could think of no response.

Inform Ash that he is to keep a constant watch on the Fool, and do all he can for his comfort and well-being.
We will come in the morning,
Chade replied decisively.

I felt their confusion and despair, but could make no reply.
Enough for tonight,
Chade added, and I felt our connections ebb and fail.

I drew breath but Chade spoke before I could. He took my forearm in a grip that still retained a great deal of iron. “I know what you are thinking. No. Tonight we will sleep, tomorrow we will eat, and then we will set forth for the stone on Gallows Hill. We both know we dare danger. We will do it, but together and not in a stupid fashion. You can do nothing for the Fool that is not already being done. Our daughters depend on us. We go as competent assassins, not as panicked fathers.”

I hated his words because they made sense. Delaying was the last thing I wanted to do, but he had not released my arm. “Doing something stupid and reckless is not a better proof of your love than doing something measured and powerful. You are no longer the boy who chased Regal's coterie through the halls of Buckkeep Castle with a bared blade. You are Prince FitzChivalry Farseer. And we will make them pay with every drop of their blood.”

Isn't it strange how wise counsel can cool the hottest head? He made sense but my heart screamed protest. I nodded slowly.

“I'm off to bed,” Chade said. He tilted his head and looked at his son. “Lant? You mustn't blame yourself.”

Lant nodded but did not look away from the flames. I left them there and went to my bedchamber.

But that does not mean that I slept well that night. The damage in my room snagged my eyes, and I imagined the men who had ransacked my home. I rose in the hours before dawn and went to Bee's room. Someone had been in there. Her new wardrobe had been righted, and the vandalized room tidied as much as was possible. I sat down on her bed and then sprawled there, hugging the pillow that had cradled her head. No scent of her remained to comfort me. I did not sleep again. Before dawn, I returned to my room and packed a handful of items. A change of clothing, the tools of my trade, Bee's journal. Then I went to her room and selected clothing for her, including her new cloak. When I found her, perhaps these things would be a comfort to her, a promise of normality again.

Chade and I were joined at our early breakfast by Captain Stout and Lieutenant Crafty. They would accompany us to Gallows Hill while Sergeant Goodhand would be left in charge of the Rousters. They would return our mounts to Withywoods. We had decided to leave Thick behind. Chade wished to have easy contact with Lant, and we did not wish to risk Thick in another trip through the stones so soon. It was agreed that when we judged enough time had passed, Thick would return through the stones with Nettle's journeyman Skill-user and Sildwell. Chade had arranged it all, including mounts to meet us when we emerged at the Witness Stones near Buckkeep.

I gave Dixon instructions to summon back the carpenters and joiners and have them begin repairs immediately. Lant begged to go with us, but we both judged him too weakened and commended him to Bulen's care. Privately, I knew that we wanted to go alone, men on a mission. As we waited for our horses to be brought round, I looked at the old man, so bravely trussed into his girdle that he might stand straight, and knew that there was no one else I would rather have at my side. We would not judge each other in what we intended to do to those who had taken our daughters. I was not sure if his health would stand up to our task—and I knew there was no way to persuade him to stay behind. I clung firmly to the belief that the Fool would have some clue that would put us on the trail of the kidnappers. And when we found them, we would kill them.

Perseverance brought the horses. Chade looked at Lord Derrick's roan mare and an almost-smile twitched his mouth. “A fine mount,” he observed.

“I only steal the best,” I admitted.

To my surprise, Perseverance was mounted and leading Bee's gray. His arm was bound across his chest, but he sat his horse firmly. “We don't need Bee's horse,” I told him.

“I should bring her, sir. Bee will want to ride her home.”

I gave the boy a look. “You aren't coming with me, lad. You're hurt and your mother needs you.”

“I told her I was sworn to you. She understood.” He sat a little straighter. “And Lady Bee will expect it of me.”

That choked me. I spoke past the tightness in my throat. “We are not going by a road where anyone can follow. We are not even going to take the horses we are riding. You can't go with us, Perseverance, though I admire your courage. When it is time for Bee to ride again, I promise you will be with her.”

Just the slightest tremble of his lower lip betrayed him. “Sir,” he said, not agreeing but obeying. I nodded to him, then Chade and I mounted and joined the waiting officers. Once I had loved the carriageway in winter, the white-barked birches burdened with snow arching over it. But today, in the dim morning light, I felt we traveled through a tunnel of gloom. The two Rousters were happy to precede us. They rode side by side, conversing sporadically. Chade and I rode stirrup-to-stirrup, not speaking as the cold stiffened our faces.

By the time we entered the main road, the sun had summoned a bit more strength. The day warmed, but not appreciably. At any other time, the roan mare would have been a pleasure to ride. I wondered idly how many people knew that Prince FitzChivalry had stolen a horse, or if Dutiful had somehow smoothed it over. I tried to feel shame, but could not. I had needed her and I took her. I would do it again. I sensed agreement from my mount but chose to ignore it.

I glanced over at Chade. Once my teacher had been a faded old man, the burn-pocks obvious on his pale face. When he had finally emerged into Buckkeep society after years in the spy-warren he had seemed to drop more than a score of years. He had laughed, eaten elaborate meals, ridden to the hunt, and danced as lively as a youth. For a short time, he had recaptured a few of the years denied to him. Now he was truly old, aged by years rather than circumstance. But he sat his horse well and held his head high. He would display no weakness to the world. No stranger would have suspected he was a man agonizing over a missing daughter. He had dressed precisely, in fine Buck-blue garments and gleaming black boots. He had a classic profile, his beard trimmed neatly, his leather-gloved hands holding his reins easily.

“What?” he demanded in a soft voice.

I'd been staring at him as I mused. “I'm glad of you. That's all. In this hard time, I'm glad of you. That we'll ride together.”

He gave me an unreadable glance. Even more softly, he said, “Thank you, my boy.”

“A question?”

“Why bother asking me that when you know you'll ask it anyway?”

“The boy Ash. Your apprentice. Is he yours, too?”

“My son, you mean? No. I've only the two, Lant and Shine.” In a lowered voice, he added, “I hope I still have two.”

“He's a fine apprentice.”

“I know. He'll stay with me, that one. He's got the edge.” He glanced at me. “Your boy. That Perseverance. He's a good one. Keep him. When you were out of the room, I asked him, ‘If all the others were summoned to come to the front of the manor and assembled, why weren't you?' And he said, ‘I felt that I wanted to go there and be with the others, but I knew my duty was to guard Bee. So I didn't go.' He resisted what I suspect was a strong Skill-suggestion to do his best to protect your daughter.”

I nodded, and wondered if a stable boy had known his duty better than I had known mine.

A silence fell between us.
Oh, Bee, where are you? Do you know I'm coming after you?
How could she? Why would she think I'd bother coming for her when I'd abandoned her before? I fenced the question with stone.
Focus on finding her and bringing her home. Don't let your agony cloud your thoughts.

We heard hoofbeats behind us, and I turned in my saddle. Four of the Rousters were catching up with us. “A message from Withywoods?” I hazarded.

But they came on at a gallop, and then pulled their horses in hard when they were alongside their captain. One of them, a youngster with orange hair and freckles, greeted his captain with a grin. “Sir, it's boring as old maids at tea back there. Mind if we ride along?”

Lieutenant Crafty laughed aloud and leaned over to clasp wrists with his man as he shot a glance at his captain. “I told you we had a lively one when we found him, sir! And you've brought a few like-minded friends, I see. Excellent.”

Their captain was not as merry about it. “Well. If you must ride along, form up and try to look like you've a bit of discipline.”

“Sir!” the redhead agreed with a shout, and in a moment Chade and I were in the center of an honor guard. I sat straighter on the roan, suddenly uncomfortable with such a status. I felt a tendril of Wit-quest from the mare. Were we safe? We were fine, I assured her, and scowled to myself. She was becoming too attuned to me. Chade glanced over at me and misinterpreted my expression.

Become accustomed to it, Prince FitzChivalry.
The tone of his Skilling was wry.

They know me only as Badgerlock,
I objected.

I doubt that. Gossip flies swiftly. But even if they name you Badgerlock now, that will change when they return to Buckkeep Castle. So conduct yourself as a prince.

It was good advice and hard to follow. I was not accustomed to being at the center of anything. Assassins lurk at the edges, looking like no one in particular.

And you will learn now to do that while being at the center of scrutiny,
Chade suggested.

We rode on, not speaking aloud. Out of the forest and on the open road, the day was blue and white. Farmsteads set in their fields plumed smoke from their chimneys. The road was little-traveled on this fine cold day, and when we reached the turn for Gallows Hill, the only tracks were the soft dimples from Chade, Thick, and Nettle's journeyman when they had arrived the day before. We followed them.

“What's up this trail?” the redhead asked curiously. He looked to me for an answer.

“Not much of anything. The old gallows for Withy and Oaksbywater. And a standing stone.”

“Then no one comes up here much?”

“True,” I affirmed. “And I am glad of it.”

We rode a bit farther in silence.

“As good a place as any, then,” the lad said.

Amateur. The betrayal was in his arrogant tone, his confidence allowing him to bait us. The bit of braggadocio cost them their surprise. Chade was pulling his sword even as the boy tried to wheel his horse into Chade's. I felt the flash of Chade's Skill as he arrowed a message to Dutiful.
We are attacked!
I sensed a startled response from the king but had no time to pay attention to it. In front of us, the lieutenant thrust his sword deep into his captain's side below the ribs, and then pulled his foot from his stirrup to kick the dying man off his horse. I saw it as I urged the roan so that she surged forward and carried me out of the jaws of danger as my two “guards” tried to trap me between them. One shouted, “Witted Bastard!” The roan chested the lieutenant's horse hard. His foot had not returned to the stirrup and she caught him off balance. I shoved him hard, he fell sideways, and his startled horse dragged him a short way before his foot came free and he fell. Down but not dead.

Chade.

I wheeled the roan tightly and was in time to see Chade and the redhead exchange sword-thrusts. The tip of Red's sword skittered across Chade's belly before slicing into his side. Chade's thrust was surer. He gave a low cry and bared his teeth as his blade sank into the youngster's belly. I echoed it with a horrified shout of my own. As Red fell away from Chade, another guard closed with him from the other side.

I had no time to see more. The banked rage I had felt at Bee's kidnapping and the rape of Withywoods roared to life in me, and I let it. I had two adversaries of my own. I wore the nondescript sword Chade had armed me with before I left Buckkeep. I've never been an excellent swordsman, but as there was no axe handy and since the situation did not seem suited to poison or garrotes, I began to draw the blade. Then I leaned far back in my saddle to allow one sword to pass through the air that occupied the place where my midsection had been a moment before. Snapping myself upright again was far harder than it should have been but it enabled me to slam the pommel of my sword into one opponent's mouth. There was a satisfying crunch of teeth.