Golden Fool (58 page)

“Well, then. I think you should tell him that.”

“That’s all?”

I shrugged. “I think you are asking the wrong man for advice about this. Someone more successful in love might be able to give you better advice.”

“Like Chade, perhaps.”

“Chade?” I was both appalled and amused, but the temptation was too great. I kept a straight face. “Chade’s the ideal man to consult.” I wished I could be present at that discussion.

“I think you are right. He always manages to keep his lovers both satisfied and discreet. Even when he chooses to let one go,” she mused, and then laughed at the shocked look on my face. “I see. Not even you know of his affairs. Ah, well, you are right, he is the man to ask. I’ve never heard of a woman turning him out of her bed; it’s always the opposite. And he is not exactly the most youthful of men. Well. I shall discuss it with him when I report to him tonight.”

Her last words sparked a sudden suspicion. I risked it. “Then you think you’ll discover where the one-handed man is staying?”

She gave me a sideways look, as if awarding me a point in a game. “Sooner than you will. And he asked me, when I overtook you, to let you know that he expects you to stay well away from Laudwine. Not that the man is known by that name in Buckkeep Town, or Chade would have him by now. So. I have passed on his wishes to you. He assures you that in this, he still knows best.”

“Or at least, he believes he does,” I returned coolly. I was putting together that this was no chance meeting. Chade had somehow discovered that I had left the castle and had sent Starling to intercept me and deflect me from Laudwine. Providing me with the opportunity to apologize to the ruffled minstrel was likely a part of his plan. How that old man loved pulling the strings! I found a smile and plastered it onto my face. “Well, you’d best mount up then and be on your way, if you’re to discover Laudwine before I do.”

She gave me a quizzical look. “Are you still going down to Buckkeep Town?”

“Yes. I have other business down there.”

“Such as?”

“Hap.”

“He’s in Buckkeep Town? I thought he would have stayed at your cabin.”

So Starling did not know everything that Chade knew. That was a small comfort. “No. Part of my reason for returning to Buckkeep, a large part of it, was to make it possible for Hap to get a good apprenticeship. He’s apprenticed to Gindast.”

“Is he? And is he doing well?”

By all the gods, I longed to lie to her and tell her that he was excelling. “It hasn’t been easy for him to adapt to city life,” I hedged. “But I think he is beginning to master it now.”

“I shall have to go by and see him. Gindast is a great admirer of mine. My expressing an interest in Hap cannot hurt him there.” There was an innocence to her assumption of fame and importance that made it impossible for me to take offense at it. Then she paused abruptly, and, as if the thought surprised her, asked, “The boy is not still angry with me, is he?”

She gave injury so carelessly; perhaps she expected others to forgive it as easily. Perhaps that was the curse of a minstrel’s tongue; to be gifted at wounding with words. At my hesitation, she filled in, “He
is
still angry, isn’t he?”

“I really have no idea,” I said hastily. “You did injure his feelings rather deeply. But he’s had so much on his mind, as I have, also. I’ve never discussed it with him.”

“Well. I suppose I must make amends with him, then. If I get a chance, I’ll steal him for an afternoon. I know Gindast will let me have him. I’ll take him out for a fine meal and show him the parts of Buckkeep Town an apprentice isn’t likely to see. Don’t frown like that. Hap’s just a boy; I’ll soon soothe his ruffled feathers. Now, as you say, I must be hastening along. Fitz, I’m glad things are better between us. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” I said, abandoning all attempts at honesty. I wondered how Hap would react to her invitation, and if she would even recognize how much he had grown and changed. In truth, I wished she would just leave him alone, but I didn’t know how to ask that without offending her again. Evidently Chade wanted her well disposed toward me. I’d corner him on the whys of that later. For now, I gave her an assist into her saddle, and smiled up at her as she looked down on me. When her smile answered me, I discovered that, yes, I had missed her. And that I preferred this to her festering anger at me. Then she nearly ruined it by quirking the smile to a grin and saying, “So. Tell me true and take the sting from my last insult to you. Does Lord Golden prefer boys to girls? Is that why the ladies have had so little success with him?”

I managed to hold my smile in place. “So far as I know, he prefers to sleep alone. For all the wild flirtations I’ve witnessed, I’ve never had to shake anyone out of his sheets in the morning.” I paused, then added in a lower voice, hating myself, “I suspect the man is extremely discreet. I’m just his bodyguard, Starling. You can’t expect me to know all his secrets.”

“Oh,” she replied, clearly disappointed at my lack of gossip. Minstrels are ever hungry for scraps of scandal. She had often told me that the best songs are found at the end of a trail of rumors. I thought she would ride off, but she surprised me again. “Well, then. And yourself, these days?”

I sighed heavily. “I’ve been emulating my master. I sleep alone, thank you.”

“You don’t have to,” she offered, one eyebrow lifting archly.

“Starling,” I warned her.

“Oh, very well,” she laughed, and I saw that in some strange way my answer had reassured her. She had not been replaced. In refusing her offer, I forced myself to go without. I supposed that pleased her. She blew me a kiss as she rode off. I shook my head as I watched her go and then resumed my trudge down the hill.

A few minutes later, Civil Bresinga passed me, headed toward Buckkeep Town at a good clip despite the steep and snowy road. He did not slow his horse and scarcely gave me a glance. I doubt that he recognized me or would have cared if he did. But he rode gloveless and bareheaded, his cloak fluttering behind him, as if he had left the castle in a very great hurry. Did it have something to do with the Prince refusing to ride out with him this morning? Did he have to notify someone of a failed plan? I muttered a curse to myself and hurried after him through the snow, but he was already out of sight.

I halted, out of breath and panting. Calm, I counseled myself. Calm. I had no way of knowing what was going on with Civil. I would stay with my original idea, and search for Laudwine. In that process, I suspected I might discover where Civil had gone.

My first stop in Buckkeep was the weekly market. I bought a red scarf and a serviceable belt knife, and all the while I made casual inquiries as to where I might get fresh goat flesh for a Jamaillian dish my master suddenly desired. I received a number of suggestions, but most were for goatherds who lived in the hills behind Buckkeep. There were only two suggested who lived in Buckkeep Town, and only one of them was near Smithy Row.

The short wintry day was ending as I headed toward Smithy Row. The fading of the light was fine with me. The recommended goatkeeper kept only a few beasts, more for milk than for flesh. I located his home as much from the smell as from my directions. In the dusk, I moved quietly closer to it. Through a window, I glimpsed a family with three young children settling in for the evening. In the shed behind their house were a dozen goats. Cheeses were stored in the rafters. The most nefarious creature around was a sullen old billy with evil yellow eyes. I left as quietly as I had come, wondering if I had tricked myself. Perhaps the sounds I had heard when I Skill-shared memories with Thick had nothing to do with where Laudwine was now. Perhaps it had been a temporary meeting place, not where the Piebald leader stayed.

I ghosted three more cottages nearby, discovering only families retiring for the night. Between a neglected shed and the next cottage, I discovered Civil’s horse. He was tethered there, saddled still and steaming. Had he been put between the house and the shed to be less obvious? I stood very still. If I were approaching Laudwine’s hiding place, then there were certainly Witted on watch, beasts as well as men. It was possible they were already aware of me. That thought broke a sweat on my back. In the next instant, I knew there was nothing I could do about it. I drifted closer, trying to muffle my tread in the unpacked snow between the buildings.

As I crouched there, I heard a horse approach in the street. There are few riding horses in Buckkeep Town. The steep, cobbled streets are unsuited to them, and they are expensive to keep in a town where they are virtually useless. This was a large and heavy beast by the sound of him. There at the front of the cottage, the sounds of his hoofbeats stilled. Almost immediately, I heard the door open. Someone heavy came out onto the porch and greeted the rider with “It’s not my fault. I don’t know why he came here and he won’t say anything to me. Says he’ll only speak to you.” I knew the voice from Thick’s Skill memory. This was the first man he had been taken to see.

“I’ll take care of it, Padget.” Laudwine’s voice. His tone cut off the man’s attempt at explanation. I heard him dismount. I crouched down behind Civil’s horse. “Hammer, go with him,” Laudwine told the horse and I saw a passing shadow as a stout man led his chief’s Wit-beast past the alley mouth and toward the ramshackle shed. At a glance, I recalled him. I had first seen him riding at Laudwine’s stirrup. Laudwine entered the cottage, shutting the door heavily behind him. A few moments later, Padget returned from tending the horse and followed him in.

The house was well constructed, the gaps in the walls well chinked, and the windows tightly shuttered against night’s chill. I could not see in, but the sound of raised voices leaked out to me. I could not make out the words. I crouched in the deep shadows between the buildings and pressed my ear tightly to the wall. I listened.

“Why were you so stupid as to come here? You were told never to come to me, never to seek any contact at all.” Laudwine’s voice was deep with anger.

“I came to tell you that our agreement is over.” I thought I recognized Civil’s voice, but it was shrill with fear.

“Do you think so?” This was Laudwine again, and the hair stood up on the back of my neck at the threat in his tone.

Civil made a low-voiced reply. He must have been defiant, for Laudwine laughed and said, “Well, you think wrong. I will tell you when our agreement is over. And when our agreement is over, it will be because you have ceased to be useful to me. And you will know when you have ceased to be useful to me, because you will cease to be alive. Do you take my hint, Civil Bresinga? Be useful, boy. For your mother’s sake, if not for your own. What tidbits do you have for me?”

“For my mother’s sake, I have nothing for you. Nor ever will again.” Civil’s voice shook with both fear and determination.

Laudwine was a direct man, as I well recalled. He seemed to have learned to use his left hand well. I heard Civil’s body hit the wall. Then he asked, pleasantly, “And why is that, boy?”

There was no answer. I wondered if he had killed the lad with one blow. “Pick him up,” Laudwine ordered someone. I heard the sound of a chair dragged across the floor, probably to receive Civil. A moment later, Laudwine continued, “I asked you a question, boy. Why are you suddenly turning traitor on me?”

Civil’s voice was muffled. He’d probably been hit in the mouth or jaw. “Not a traitor. Don’t owe you anything.”

“Don’t you?” Laudwine laughed. “Your mother is still alive. Don’t you owe me for that? You are still alive. Doesn’t she owe me for that? Don’t be a fool, lad. Do you believe the Mountain Queen’s false promises? That she wants to listen to us, to make things better for us? Faugh! She wants to lure us in, like rats coming to poisoned grain. You think I’m a threat to you, that I could end your lives by betraying you. And so I could. But only if you betray me first. For now, I hold you in the palm of my hand, and I protect you. I am far more reasonable to deal with than some of the Piebalds that follow me. Be grateful that I keep them reined in. So let’s have no more foolishness. You and I, we share too much to oppose one another.” His tone changed to one of genial inquiry. “What brought this on, anyway?”

Civil hissed out an accusation I could not hear.

Laudwine laughed. “So. She is a woman, boy, and one of our own. I know it’s hard for a lad to think of his own mother as a woman, but so she is, and a comely one as well. She should take it as a compliment, and as a reminder. She has lived too long apart from us, denying what she was, consorting with ‘the nobility’ as if they, or she, were better than we are. It’s going to come full circle, Bresinga. Consider yourselves fortunate that we accepted you as part of us again. For when we come to power, those of Old Blood who have denied their magic and turned their backs on their kin and even betrayed us to the Farseer filth . . . all of them will die. They’ll die in their own King’s Circle, just as that bastard Regal killed so many of us. And for what? Why did so many of our parents and their animal partners die in those circles? For the sake of creating a Witted turncoat, one that would hunt down the Witted Bastard for him. Full time and past due that the Farseers paid for that.”

And, ear pressed against the cold wood, I knew a familiar sickness in my bones as I crouched in the gathering cold and dark of the night. Ah yes. Once again the Farseers’ past had returned to haunt us. For what Laudwine spoke was true. Regal had so hated and feared me that he had decided the only way to bring me down was to find one of the Witted who would help him. Many a man and woman died under Regal’s torture before he found one who would hunt Old Blood for him. The painful scar in the center of my back came from that man’s arrow. Yet what I had always thought of as Regal’s wrongdoing against the Witted would still be toted up against the Farseer family account.

Civil’s voice was low but clear as he said, “She does not take it ‘as a compliment’ but as insult and assault most vile. You have forced me to live in Buckkeep, to spy for you here, leaving her alone and vulnerable. You have driven from her side every trusted servant and true friend she has ever known. And now your folk have dishonored her, all in the name of taking her back into your ‘piebald’ legacy. Well, she does not want it, and neither do I. If this is what you mean when you speak of the fellowship of Old Blood, then I’d rather not be one of you.”