The Wise Man's Fear (81 page)

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Authors: Patrick Rothfuss

Tags: #Mercenary troops, #Magicians, #Magic, #Attempted assassination, #Fairies, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Heroes, #Epic

BOOK: The Wise Man's Fear
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I made my way over and risked a look inside, peering down into the tower. Caudicus was not simply working late. He was talking to someone. I craned my neck, but I couldn’t see who he was speaking to. What’s more, the window was leaded shut and I couldn’t hear anything.
I was about to move to a different window when Caudicus stood and began to walk to the door. The other person came into view, and even from this steep angle I could recognize the portly, unassuming figure of Stapes.
Stapes was clearly worked up about something. He made an emphatic gesture with one hand, his face deathly serious. Caudicus nodded several times in agreement before opening the door to let the manservant out.
I noted Stapes wasn’t carrying anything when he left. He hadn’t stopped by for medicine. He hadn’t stopped by to borrow a book. Stapes had stopped by in the middle of the night to have a private conversation with the man who was trying to kill the Maer.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
 
Flight
 
Though no family can boast a truly peaceful past, the Lacklesses have been especially ripe with misfortune. Some from without: assassination, invasion, peasant revolt, and theft. More telling is misfortune that comes from within: how can a family thrive when the eldest heir forsakes all family duty? Small wonder they are often called the “Luckless” by their detractors.
It seems a testament to the strength of their blood that they have survived so much for so long. Indeed, if not for the burning of Caluptena, we might possess records tracing the Lackless family back far enough for them to rival the royal line of Modeg in its antiquity. . . .
 
I tossed the book onto the table in a way that would have made Master Lorren spit blood. If the Maer thought this sort of information was enough to woo a woman, he was in worse need of my help than he thought.
But as things currently stood, I doubted the Maer would be asking me for any help with anything, least of all something as sensitive as his courting. Yesterday he hadn’t summoned me to his rooms at all.
I was clearly out of favor, and I sensed Stapes had a hand in it. Given what I had seen two nights ago in Caudicus’ tower, it was fairly obvious Stapes was part of the conspiracy to poison the Maer.
Though it meant spending all day trapped in my rooms, I stayed where I was. I knew better than to jeopardize Alveron’s already low opinion of me by approaching him without being summoned first.
An hour before lunch Viscount Guermen stopped by my rooms with a few pages of handwritten gossip. He also brought a deck of cards, apparently thinking to take a page from Bredon’s book. He offered to teach me how to play thrush, and, as I was just learning the game, agreed to play for the pittance of a single silver bit per hand.
He made the mistake of letting me deal, and left in a bit of huff after I won eighteen hands in a row. I suppose I could have been more subtle. I could have played him like a fish on a line and bilked him for half his estate, but I was in no mood for it. My thoughts were not pleasant, and I preferred to be alone with them.
 
An hour after lunch, I decided I was no longer interested in currying favor with the Maer. If Alveron wished to trust his treacherous manservant, that was his business. I’d be damned if I would spend one more minute sitting idle in my room, waiting by the door like a whipped dog.
I threw on my cloak, grabbed my lute case, and decided to take a walk down Tinnery Street. If the Maer needed me while I was away, he could damn well leave a note.
I was halfway into the hall when I saw the guard standing at attention outside my door. He was one of Alveron’s own, clad in sapphire and ivory.
We stood for a moment, motionless. There was no sense in asking if he was there on my account. Mine was the only door for twenty feet in any direction. I met his eye. “And you are?”
“Jayes, sir.”
At least I still rated a “sir.” That was worth something. “And you’re here because . . .?”
“I’m to accompany you if you leave your room. Sir.”
“Right.” I stepped back into my room and closed the door behind me.
Were his orders from Alveron or Stapes? It didn’t really matter.
I went out my window, into the garden, over the little streamlet, behind a hedgerow, and up a section of decorative stone wall. My burgundy cloak was not the best color for sneaking around in the garden, but it worked quite nicely against the red of the roofing tiles.
After that I made my way onto the roof of the stables, through a hayloft, and out the back door of a disused barn. From there it was just a matter of jumping a fence and I was off the Maer’s estate. Simple.
I stopped at twelve inns on Tinnery Street before I found the one where Denna was staying. She wasn’t there, so I continued along the street, keeping my eyes open and trusting to my luck.
I spotted her an hour later. She was standing at the edge of a crowd, watching a street corner a production of, believe it or not,
Three Pennies for Wishing
.
Her skin was darker than when I’d seen her last at the University, tanned from travel, and she wore a high-necked dress after the local fashion. Her dark hair fell in a straight sheaf across her back, all except a single slender braid that hung close to her face.
I caught her eye just as Deadnettle shouted out his first line in the play:
I’ve cures for what ails you!
My wares never fails you!
I’ve potions for pennies, results guaranteed!
So if you’ve got a dicky heart,
Or can’t get her legs apart,
Come straightaway to my cart,
You’ll find what you need!
 
Denna smiled when she saw me. We might have stayed for the play, but I already knew the ending.
 
Hours later, Denna and I were eating sweet Vintish grapes in the shadow of the Sheer. Some industrious stonemason had carved a shallow niche into the white stone of the cliff, making smooth seats of stone. It was a cozy place we had discovered while walking aimlessly through the city. We were alone, and I felt myself to be the luckiest man in the world.
My only regret was that I didn’t have her ring with me. It would have been the perfect unexpected gift to go with our unexpected meeting. Worse yet, I couldn’t even tell Denna about it. If I did, I’d be forced to admit I’d used it as collateral for my loan with Devi.
“You seem to be doing fairly well for yourself,” Denna said, rubbing the edge of my burgundy cloak between her fingers. “Have you given up the bookish life?”
“Taking a vacation,” I hedged. “Right now I’m assisting the Maer Alveron with a thing or two.”
Her eyes widened appreciatively. “Do tell.”
I looked away uncomfortably. “I’m afraid I can’t. Delicate matters and all that.” I cleared my throat and tried to change the subject. “What of you? You seem to be doing fairly well yourself.” I brushed two fingers across the embroidery that decorated the high neck of her dress.
“Well I’m not rubbing elbows with the Maer,” she said, making an exaggerated deferential gesture in my direction. “But as I mentioned in my letters, I—”
“Letters?” I asked. “You sent more than one?”
She nodded. “Three since I left,” she said. “I was about to start a fourth, but you’ve saved me the trouble.”
“I only got the one,” I said.
Denna shrugged. “I’d rather tell you in person, anyway.” She paused dramatically. “I finally have my formal patronage.”
“You have?” I said, delighted. “Denna, that’s wonderful news!”
Denna grinned proudly. Her teeth were white against the light nut color of her travel-tanned face. Her lips, as always, were red without the aid of any paint.
“Is he part of the court here in Severen?” I asked. “What’s his name?”
Denna’s grin faded into a serious look, a confused smile playing around her mouth. “You know I can’t tell you that,” she chided. “You know how closely he guards his privacy.”
My excitement fell away, leaving me cold. “Oh no. Denna. It’s not the same fellow as before, is it? The one who sent you to play for that wedding in Trebon?”
Denna looked puzzled. “Of course it is. I can’t tell you his real name. What was it you called him before? Master Elm?”
“Master Ash,” I said, and it felt like a mouthful of ashes when I said it. “Do
you
at least know his real name? Did he tell you that much before you signed up?”
“I expect I know his real name,” she shrugged, running a hand through her hair. When her fingers touched the braid she seemed surprised to find it there and quickly began to unravel it, her deft fingers smoothing it away. “Even if I don’t, what does it matter? Everyone has secrets, Kvothe. I don’t particularly care what his are so long as he continues to deal square with me. He’s been very generous.”
“He’s not just secretive, Denna,” I protested. “From the way you’ve described him, I’d say he’s either paranoid or tangled up in dangerous business.”
“I don’t know why you’re carrying such a grudge against him.”
I couldn’t believe she could say that. “Denna, he beat you senseless.”
She went very still. “No.” Her hand went to the fading bruise on her cheek. “No he didn’t. I told you. I fell while I was out riding. The stupid horse couldn’t tell a stick from a snake.”
I shook my head. “I’m talking about last fall in Trebon.”
Denna’s hand fell back to her lap where it made an absentminded fidgeting gesture, trying to toy with a ring that wasn’t there. She looked at me, her expression blank. “How did you know about that?”
“You told me yourself. That night on the hill, waiting for the draccus to come.”
She looked down, blinking. “I . . . I don’t remember saying that.”
“You were a little addled at the time,” I said gently. “But you did. You told me all about it. Denna, you shouldn’t have to stay with someone like that. Anyone who could do that to you . . .”
“He did it for my own good,” she said, her dark eyes beginning to flicker with anger. “Did I tell you that? There I was without a scratch on me and everyone else at the wedding dead as leather. You know what small towns are like. Even after they found me unconscious they thought I might have had something to do with it. You remember.”
I put my head down and shook it like an ox worrying its yoke. “I don’t believe it. There had to be another way around the situation. I would have found another way.”
“Well I guess we can’t all be as clever as you,” she said.
“Clever doesn’t have anything to do with it!” I came close to shouting. “He could have taken you away with him! He could have come forward and vouched for you!”
“He couldn’t let anyone know he was there,” Denna said. “He said—”
“He beat you.” And as I spoke the words I felt a terrible anger come together inside me. It wasn’t hot and furious, as some of my flashes of temper tend to be. This was different, slow and cold. And as soon as I felt it, I realized it had been there inside me for a long while, crystallizing, like a pond slowly freezing solid over a long winter night.

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