Fool's Fate (38 page)

    “He was the better man for her,” I managed to add. I had told myself that so often, through the years.

    “I wonder if she would have thought so,” the Prince mused, and then, at the look on my face, added hastily, “I beg your pardon. It's not my place to wonder such things. But...but I am still shocked that my mother allowed this. Often she has spoken with me, forcefully, about how much rests on me as the sole heir to the throne.”

    “She gave way to Fitz's feelings in that. Against my counsel,” Chade explained. I could hear the satisfaction he took in finally vindicating himself.

    “I see. Well, actually, I don't see, but for now the question is, how have you been teaching her to Skill? Did you live near her before or...?”

    “I haven't been teaching her. What she knows of it, she has mastered on her own.”

    “But I was told that was horribly dangerous!” Dutiful's shock seemed to deepen. “How could you allow her to be risked this way, knowing all she means to the Farseer throne?” That question was for me, and then he accusingly demanded of Chade, “Did you prevent her coming to court? Was this your doing, some silly effort at protecting the Farseer name?”

    “Not at all, my prince,” he denied smoothly. He turned his calm gaze on me and told Dutiful, “Many times, I have asked Fitz to allow Nettle to be brought to Buckkeep, so that she could both learn her own importance to the Farseer line and be instructed in the Skill. But, again, this was an area in which FitzChivalry's feelings had their way. Against the counsel of both the Queen and myself.”

    The Prince took several deep breaths. Then, “This is unbelievable,” he said quietly. “And intolerable. It will be remedied. I'll do it myself.”

    “Do what?” I demanded.

    “Tell that girl who she is! And have her brought to court and treated as befits her birth. See her educated in all things, including the Skill. My cousin is being raised as a country girl, dipping candles and feeding chickens! What if the Farseer throne required her? I still cannot grasp that my mother allowed this!”

    Is there anything more chilling than looking at a righteous fifteen-year-old and realizing he has the power to unravel your entire life? I felt queasy with vulnerability. “You have no idea what that would do to my life,” I pleaded quietly.

    “No. I don't,” he admitted easily, but with growing outrage. “And neither do you. You go around making these monumental decisions about what other people should know or not know about their own lives. But you don't really have any more idea how it will turn out than I do! You just do what you think is safest and then crawl around hoping no one will find out and blame you later if things go wrong!” He was building up to a frenzy, and I suddenly suspected that this was not entirely about Nettle.

    “What are you so angry about?” I asked bluntly. “This is nothing to do with you.”

    “Nothing to do with me? Nothing to do with me?” He stood up, nearly knocking his chair over. “How can Nettle be nothing to do with me? Do not we share a grandfather? Is not she a Farseer born, and possessed of the Skill Magic? Do you know--” He choked for a moment, and then visibly composed himself. In a softer voice he asked, “Have you no idea what it would have meant to me to grow up with a peer? Someone of my blood, someone closer to my own age that I could talk to? Someone who would have to shoulder a share of the responsibility for the Farseer reign, so that it wouldn't always have had to be only on me?” He glanced aside, staring as if he could see through the wall of the cabin and gave an odd little snort. “It could be her here in this cabin, promised to an Outislander spouse instead of me. If my mother and Chade had had two Farseers to spend to buy us peace, who knows...”

    The thought made my blood cold. I didn't want to tell him that was exactly what I had tried to protect Nettle from. I did give him one truth. “It had never occurred to me to look at it from your point of view. It had never occurred to me that it would have an effect on you at all.”

    “Well, it has. And it does.” He suddenly shifted his focus to Chade. “And you too have been negligent beyond all tolerance. This girl is the heir to the Farseer throne, after me. That should be documented and witnessed; it should have been done before I left port! If anything befalls me, if I die trying to chop up this frozen dragon, there will be chaos as all try to suggest who should be--”

    “It has been done, my prince. Many years ago. And the documents kept safe. In that, I have not been negligent.” Chade seemed incensed that Dutiful could even think such a thing.

    “It would have been nice to know that. Can either of you explain to me why it was so important to keep this information from me?” He glared from Chade to me, but his stare settled on me as he observed, “It seems to me that you have gone about for a lot of your life, making decisions for other people, doing what you thought was best without consulting them about what they wanted at all. And you aren't always right!”

    I kept my temper. “That's the trouble with making a decision. You never know if it's right until after you've done it. But it is what adults are supposed to do. Make decisions. And then live with them.”

    He was silent for a time. Then he said, after a moment, “And if I made an adult decision to tell Nettle who she is? To right at least that much of the wrong we have done her?”

    I took a breath. “I'm asking you not to do that. It isn't something that should just be dropped on her, all of a piece.”

    He was quiet for a longer time and then asked wryly, “Have I any other secret relatives who will come popping into my life when I least expect it?”

    “None that I know of,” I replied seriously. Then, more formally, “My prince, please. Let me be the one to tell her, if she must be told.”

    “It's certainly a task you deserve,” he observed, and Chade, who had been solemn for a few moments, smiled again. Dutiful seemed almost wistful as he added, “She seems strong in the Skill. Think how it could be, if she were here now. We'd have her to rely on, and perhaps Thick could have stayed safely at home.”

    “Actually, she works well with Thick. She's excellent at calming him and has gained a lot of his trust. She is the one who disarmed his nightmares for us on our voyage to Zylig. But in reply to what you said, no, my prince. Thick is too strong and too volatile to be left on his own anywhere now. And that is a thing that we must eventually deal with. The more we teach him, the more dangerous he becomes.”

    “I think the best remedy for Thick's willfulness is to take him home and put him back in his familiar life. I expect that he'll regain a more even temperament then. Unfortunately, I have to find and kill a dragon before we can do that.”

    I was relieved to leave the topic of Nettle, and yet there was one more chink in the wall to close. “My prince. Swift knows nothing of all this, of Nettle's being my daughter and only half-sister to him. I'd like to keep it that way.”

    “Ah, yes. Of course, when you decided to keep this a secret, you never wondered how it might affect other children that might come along.”

    “You are right. I didn't,” I admitted stiffly.

    “Well, I'll keep silent. For now. But you might want to consider how you would feel if you were only now discovering who your parents were.” He cocked his head at me. “Think about it. What if it was suddenly revealed to you that you weren't Chivalry's son but Verity's? Or Regal's? Or Chade's? How much gratitude would you feel toward those who had known all along and 'protected' you from the truth?”

    The cold chasm of doubt yawned briefly before me, even as I rejected such wild ideas. Yes, Chade was capable of such deception, but my logic denied the possibility. Still, Dutiful had succeeded in his goal. He had stirred in me the anger I would have felt at being deceived for so long. “I'd probably hate them,” I admitted. I met his eyes squarely as I added, “And that is yet another reason why I don't wish Nettle to know.”

    The Prince pursed his lips and then nodded briefly. It wasn't a promise to keep my secret, but more an acknowledgment of the complexities of revealing it. That was as much as he was going to give me. I hoped he'd leave the subject now, but with a slight scowl, he asked suddenly, “And why is Queen I-Doubt-It-Very-Much consorting with the Bingtown dragon? Is she in league with Tintaglia?”

    “No, my prince!” I was shocked that he could think such a thing of her. “Tintaglia found her through stalking my thoughts, or so I believe. When we Skill strongly, I think the dragon can perceive us. Or, as you and Thick discovered, when you are dream-walking. Tintaglia knows something of who I am from the Bingtown delegation's visit to Buckkeep. We were careless of our Skilling then, and I think she marked me. She knows that I visit Nettle. I think that she seeks to threaten Nettle as a way to wring information out of me. She wants to know what we know about the black dragon, Icefyre. As all the young dragons that hatched in the Rain Wilds are feeble, he may be her only hope of a mate. And thus her only hope of perpetuating her kind.”

    “And we have no way to protect Nettle.”

    A note of pride crept into my voice as I said, “She has proven herself very capable against the dragon. She has defended herself, and me, better than I could have hoped to do.”

    He measured me with his eyes. “And doubtless she will continue to do so. As long as the dragon remains a threat that only comes into her dreams. But we do not know much of this Tintaglia. If, as has been suggested, the black dragon is her only hope of a mate, then she may become very desperate, indeed. Nettle may be able to defend herself in her dreams; how will she fare against a dragon alighting in front of her home? Will Burrich's home stand against a dragon's fury?”

    That was an image I didn't want to consider. “She only seems to find Nettle at night in her dreams. It may be that she does not know where Nettle actually is.”

    “Or it may only be that she chooses to stay close to the young dragons. For now. And that tomorrow night, or an hour hence, driven by desperation, she may take wing to Nettle's home.” He set the heels of his hands to his temples and, eyes closed, rubbed them. When he opened his eyes, he shook his head at me. “I cannot believe that you never considered this. What are we to do?” He did not wait for an answer, but turned to Chade. “Have we messenger birds aboard?”

    “Of course, my prince.”

    “I will send a message to my mother. Nettle must be taken to safety in Buckkeep...oh, this is foolish. It would be far swifter to Skill to her, warn her of her danger, and send her to my mother.” He lifted his hands to his eyes, rubbed them, and then gave a heavy sigh as he lowered them. “I'm sorry, FitzChivalry,” he said, softly and sincerely. “If she were not in danger, perhaps I could leave things as they are. But I cannot. I'm shocked that you would consider doing so.”

    I bowed my head. I received his words with a strange sensation, not anger or dismay, but a sense of the inevitable at last winning its way. A shiver ran over me, standing up the hair on my hands and arms. An image of the Fool, smiling in satisfaction, came into my mind. I glanced down to see that I was once more tracing his fingerprints on my wrist. I felt like someone who had just been maneuvered into making a fatal move in a game of Stones. Or like a wolf, brought to bay at last. It was too immense a change to regret or fear. One could only stand frozen, awaiting the avalanche of consequences that must follow it.

    “FitzChivalry,” Chade said after a moment or two of my silence. I could hear the concern in his voice and the kindly look he gave me almost hurt.

    “Burrich knows,” I said awkwardly. “That I'm alive. I sent him a message through Nettle, one only he would understand. Because I had given Nettle my word, and I needed Burrich to know that his son...that Swift was safe and with us. Burrich went to Kettricken. And, perhaps he spoke with the Fool, as well. So...he knows.” I took a deep breath. “He may even be expecting something like this, a summons to the court. He must suspect that Nettle has the Skill. How else would she have received knowledge of Swift's safety from me? He was King's Man to Chivalry. He knows what the Skill is. Would that Chivalry had not sealed him off from it. Would that I could touch minds with him, now. Though I do not think I would have the courage...”

    “Burrich was King's Man to Chivalry?” Dutiful rocked back in his chair, balancing it on the two back legs. He looked from one of us to the other in consternation.

    “He loaned Prince Chivalry strength for Skilling,” I confirmed.

    Dutiful shook his head slowly. “Another thing that has never been mentioned to me.” He crashed his chair back down onto the deck. “What will it take?” he demanded angrily. “What must happen here, to rattle all the secrets out of you two?”

    “That wasn't a secret,” Chade said heavily. “Only a bit of ancient history, long forgotten as it seemed of little import to the present. Fitz, you are sure that Burrich is sealed?”

    “Yes. I tried to get through to him any number of times. I've even tried to borrow Skill strength from him, that time in the mountains. Nothing. He's opaque. Even Nettle has tried to get into his dreams, and she cannot. Whatever Chivalry did to Burrich, he did thoroughly.”

    “Interesting. We should try to rediscover how Chivalry sealed him. If ever we need to eliminate Thick's Skill as a threat, that might be one way to do it. Seal him.” Chade spoke the words in his considering way, with no thought that anyone might find them offensive.

    “Enough!” the Prince snapped at him, and we both flinched, surprised at his intensity. He crossed his arms on his chest and shook his head. “You two sit here like puppeteers and consider from afar other peoples' lives and how you will manipulate them.” He swung his gaze slowly from Chade to me, forcing both of us to meet his eyes. He was young and vulnerable, and suddenly wise as prey in facing us. “Do you know how frightening you are sometimes? How can I sit here and look at how you have shaped Nettle's life, and not wonder what kinks you have knowingly put in mine? You, Chade, speak so calmly of sealing Thick to the Skill. Must not I wonder, would they join their strengths and do that to me, if I somehow became a threat to their plans?”