The Complete Tawny Man Trilogy Omnibus (261 page)

I thought about my days with Starling on the walk down to Buckkeep Town. I wondered, if I had not given my pain to the dragon, would I ever have given anything of myself to Starling? Not that I had shared much with her. I looked back at how we had come together and wondered at myself.

The Pelican’s Pouch was in a new part of Buckkeep Town, up a steep path and then down, and half built on pilings. It was a new tavern, in the sense that it hadn’t existed when I was a lad, yet its rafters seemed well smoked and its tables showed the battering of most minstrel taverns, where folk were prone to leap to a tabletop either to sing or declaim an epic.

It was early in the day for minstrels to be up and about, so the place was mostly deserted. The tavern keeper was sitting on a tall
stool near the salt-rimed window, gazing out over the sea. I let my eyes adjust to the perpetual dimness and then saw Hap sitting at a table by himself in the corner. He had several pieces of wood in front of him and was moving them around as if playing some sort of game with them. He’d grown a little beard, just a fringe of curly hair along his jaw. Immediately, I didn’t like it. I walked over and stood across the table until he looked up and saw me. Then he jumped to his feet with a shout that startled the dozing tavern keeper and came around the table to give me a big hug. ‘Tom! There you are! I’m so glad to see you! Word went out that you were missing. I came to see you when I heard you’d turned up, but you were sleeping like the dead. Did the healer give you the note I left for you?’

‘No, he didn’t.’

My tone warned him. His shoulders sagged a bit. ‘Ah. So I see you’ve heard all the bad news of me, but not the good, I’ll wager. Sit down. I’d hoped that you’d read it and I wouldn’t have to tell it all again. I get weary of repeating the same words over and over, especially since I do it so much these days.’ He lifted his voice, ‘Marn? Could we have two mugs of ale here? And a bit of bread, too, if there’s any out of the oven yet.’ Then, ‘Sit down,’ he said again to me, and took a seat himself. I sat down opposite him. He looked at my face and said, ‘I’ll tell it quickly. Svanja took my money and spent it on pretties that attracted the eye of an older man. She’s now Mistress Pins. She married the draper, a man easily twice as old as me. And wealthy, and settled. A substantial man. So. That’s done.’

‘And your apprenticeship?’ I asked quietly.

‘I lost it,’ he replied as quietly. ‘Svanja’s father made complaint about my character to my master. Master Gindast said I must change my ways or leave his employ. I was stupid. I left his employ. I tried to get Svanja to run away with me, back to our old cabin. I told her things would be hard, but that we could live simply with our love for each other to make us rich. She was furious that I’d lost my apprenticeship, and told me I was crazy if I thought she wanted to live in the woods and tend chickens. Four days later, she was walking out on Master Pins’s arm. You were right about her, Tom. I should have listened to you.’

I bit my tongue before I could agree with him. I sat and stared at the tabletop, wondering what would become of my boy now. I’d left
him on his own just when he’d needed a father the most. I pondered what to do. ‘I’ll go with you,’ I offered. ‘We’ll go to Gindast together and see if he will reconsider. I’ll beg if I have to.’

‘No!’ Hap was aghast. Then he laughed, saying, ‘You haven’t given me a chance to tell the rest. As usual, you’ve seized on the worst and made it the only. Tom. I’m here, amongst the minstrels, and I’m happy. Look.’

He pushed his bits of wood toward me. The shape was rough yet, but I could see that, pegged together, they’d make a harp. I’d been with Starling long enough to know that the making of a basic harp was among the first steps toward becoming a minstrel. ‘I never knew I could sing. Well, I knew I could sing, of course, but I mean I never knew I could sing well enough to be a mistrel. I grew up listening to Starling and singing along with her. I never realized how many of her songs and tales I’d got by heart, simply listening to her of an evening. Now, we’ve had our differences, Starling and I, and she doesn’t approve of my taking this path at all. She said you’d blame her for it. But she vouched for me, and she let it be known that I could sing her songs until my own came to me.’

The mugs of ale and fresh bread, crusty and steaming, were delivered to our table. Hap tore the bread into chunks and bit into one while I was still trying to grasp it all. ‘You’re going to become a minstrel?’

‘Yes! Starling brought me to a fellow named Sawtongue. He has a terrible voice, but a way with the strings that is little short of a god’s gift. And he’s a bit old, so he can use a young fellow like me to carry the packs and make up a fire on the nights when we’re between inns on our travelling. We’ll stay in town until after Harvest Fest of course. He’ll play tonight at the lesser hearth, and I may sing a song or two at the earlier revels for the children. Tom, I never knew that life could be this good. I love what I’m doing now. With everything Starling taught me, all unknowing, I’ve the repertoire of a journeyman already. Though I’m behind on the making of my own instrument, and of course I’ve few of my own songs yet. But they’ll come. Sawtongue says I should be patient, and not try to make songs, but to wait and let them come to me.’

‘I never thought to see you turn minstrel, Hap.’

‘Nor I.’ He lifted a shoulder in a shrug and grinned. ‘It’s a fit,
Tom. No one cares who my mother and father were or weren’t, or if my eyes don’t match. There’s not the endless grind of being a woodworker. Oh, I may complain about reciting, over and over, until every single word is exactly as Sawtongue wants it turned, but it’s not difficult. I never realized what a good memory I had.’

‘And after Harvest Fest?’

‘Oh. That will be the only sad part. Then I’m away with Sawtongue. He always winters in Beams. So we’ll sing and harp our way there, and then stay with his patron at a warm hearth for the winter.’

‘And no regrets.’

‘Only that I’ll see even less of you than I have this last summer.’

‘But you’re happy?’

‘Hmm. As close to it as a man can get. Sawtongue says that when you let go and follow your fate instead of trying to twist your life around and master it, a man finds that happiness follows him.’

‘So may it be for you, Hap. So may it be.’

And then we talked for a time of incidental things and drank our ale. To myself, I marvelled at the knocks he had taken and still struggled back onto his feet. I wondered, too, that Starling had stepped in to help him as she had, and said nothing of it to me. That she had given him permission to sing her songs told me that she truly intended to leave her old life behind her.

I would have talked the day away with him but he glanced out of the window and said he had to go wake his master and bring him his breakfast. He asked if I would be at the Harvest Eve revels that night, and I told him I was not sure, but that I hoped he’d enjoy them. He said he’d be certain to, and then we made our farewells.

I took my homeward path through the market square. I bought flowers at one stall, and sweets at another and racked my brain desperately for any other gifts that might buy me back into Patience’s good graces. In the end, however, I could think of nothing and was horrified to realize how much time I’d wasted wandering from booth to booth. As I made my way back to Buckkeep Castle, I was part of the throng going there. I walked behind a wagon full of beer barrels and in front of a group of jugglers who practised all the way there.
One of the girls in the group asked me if the flowers were for my sweetheart, and when I said no, they were for my mother, they all laughed pityingly with me.

I found Patience in her rooms, sitting with her feet up. She scolded me and wept over my heartlessness in making her worry while Lacey put the flowers into a vase and set out the sweets with tea for us. My tale of what had befallen me actually brought me back into her good graces, though she complained still that there were more than a dozen years of my life unaccounted for.

I was trying to recall where I had left off in my telling when Lacey said quietly, ‘Molly came to visit us a few days ago. It was pleasant to see her again, after all the years.’ When I sat in stunned silence, Lacey observed, ‘Even in widow’s dress, she’s still a fine-looking woman.’

‘I told her she shouldn’t have kept my granddaughter from me!’ Patience declared suddenly. ‘Oh, she had a hundred good reasons for it, but not one good enough for me.’

‘Did you quarrel with her?’ I asked in dismay. Could it become any worse?

‘No. Of course not. She did send the girl to see me the next day. Nettle. Now there’s a name for a child! But she’s straight spoken enough. I like that in a girl. Said she didn’t want Withywoods or anything that might come to her because you were her father. I said it had nothing to do with you, but with the fact that she was Chivalry’s granddaughter, and who else was I to settle it on? So. I think she’ll come to find that I’m more stubborn than she is.’

‘Not by much,’ Lacey observed contentedly. Her crooked fingers played on the edge of the table. I missed her endless tatting.

‘Did Molly speak of me?’ I asked, dreading the answer.

‘Nothing you’d care for me to repeat to you. She knew you were alive; that was no doing of mine, though. I know how to keep a secret. Apparently far better than you do! She came here ready for a quarrel, I think, but when she found that I, too, had suffered all those years, thinking you dead, well, then we had much in common to talk about. And dear Burrich, of course. Dear, stubborn Burrich. We both had a bit of a weep over him. He was my first love, you know, and I don’t think one ever gets back the bit of heart one
gives to a first love. She didn’t mind me saying that, that there was still a bit of me that loved that awful headstrong man. I told her, it doesn’t matter how badly behaved your first love is, he always keeps a place in your heart. And she agreed that was true enough.’

I sat very still.

‘That she did,’ Lacey agreed, and her eyes flickered to me, as if measuring how stupid I could possibly be.

Patience chattered on of this and that, but I found it hard to keep my mind on her words. My heart was elsewhere, walking on windy cliff tops with a girl in blowing red skirts. Eventually, I realized she was telling me I had to go; that she must begin to dress for the evening festivities, for it took her longer to do those things than it used to do. She asked if I would be there, and I told her, probably not, that it was still difficult for me to be seen at gatherings of the nobility where someone might dredge up an old memory of me. She nodded to that, but added, ‘You have changed more than you know, Fitz. If it had not been for Lacey, I might have walked right by you and not known you at all.’

I did not know whether to take comfort in that or not. Lacey walked me to the door, saying as we went, ‘Well, I suppose we’ve all changed a great deal. Molly, now, I’d have known her anywhere, but I’m not the woman that I used to be. Even for Molly, there are changes, though. She said to me, she said, “Fancy, Lacey, they’ve put me in the Violet Chamber, in the south wing. Me, as used to be a maid on the upper floors, housed in the Violet Chamber, where Lady and Lord Flicker used to live. Imagine such a thing!”’ Again, her old eyes flickered to mine.

I gave one slow nod.

As
you have requested, I send a messenger to you, to inform you that the blue queen dragon Tintaglia and the black drake Icefyre have been seen. They seem to be in good health and appetite. We conveyed to them that you were concerned for their well-being and for the well-being of the young dragons left in your care. We could not be certain that they understood the gravity or the urgency of your desire for information about them, as perhaps you will understand. They seemed very intent on one another, and little disposed to desire or facilitate conversation with men.

Missive from Queen Kettricken to the Bingtown Traders’ Council

Evening found me at my old post behind the wall. For once, I was spying for my own curiosity rather than upon any mission for Chade. I had a bottle of wine, bread, apples, cheese, sausages and a ferret in a basket beside me, and a cushion to perch on. I hunched with my eye to a crack and watched the swirl as Six Duchies and Out Islands met and mingled.

Tonight there was little formality. That would be tomorrow. Tonight there was food in abundance set out on tables, but the tables edged the walls to leave room for dancing. Tonight there would be opportunity for lesser and younger minstrels, jugglers and puppeteers to show their skills. Tonight was casual chaos and rejoicing in the harvest prospects. Tonight, commoner and nobles mingled in all the halls and courtyards of the keep. I probably could have safely wandered amongst them, but I had no heart for it. So I hid and peered and took pleasure in the pleasure of others.

I was at my post early enough that I did get to hear Hap sing. He
sang for the children, early gathered for they would be early sent to bed, and chose two silly songs, about the man who hunted the moon and the one about the woman who planted a cup to grow some wine and a fork to grow some meat and so on. He’d always laughed at those when Starling sang them to him, and so did his audience now. He seemed to take great and genuine pleasure in that, and his master seemed well pleased. I gave a small sigh. My boy gone off with the minstrels. I’d never imagined that.

I also saw Swift, his head cropped close for mourning, walking about with Web. The lad seemed older than when I last had seen him, not in looks but in bearing. He followed Web and I was glad he had such a man to mentor him. My eyes wandered, and amidst the dancers, I saw young Lord Civil. There was a girl in his arms and to my shock, it was Nettle. I sat watching and chewing that until the end of the tune, when Prince Dutiful escorted Lady Sydel back to him and claimed the next dance with Nettle for himself. The Prince, I thought, looked a bit forlorn despite his formally pleasant mien. I doubted that it was his friend’s lady or his cousin that he truly wished to be dancing with. As for Nettle, she danced well, but self-consciously, and I wondered if she was uncertain of the steps or made awkward by the rank of her partner. Her dress was simple, as simple as the Prince’s Harvest Fest attire, and I saw Queen Kettricken’s hand in that.