The Tawny Man Series Books 2 and 3: The Golden Fool, Fool’s Fate. Robin Hobb
know?’ I managed at last.
‘Oh, come, Fitz. You reported about him to the Queen. And I’d heard his name from you before, when you were delirious and raving with fever from the infection in your back. I knew he was significant. I keep track of significant people.’
It was like the Stone game. He’d just set another piece on the board, one that revealed his old strategy. I filled in all he had not said. ‘So you know that I returned there. That I studied with him for a time.’
He gave a half nod. ‘I wasn’t certain of it. But I suspected it was you. I received the news with joy. Prior to that, the last I had heard of you was what Starling and Kettricken reported when they left you at the quarry. To hear you were alive and well … For months, I half-expected you to turn up at my doorstep. I looked forward to hearing from your lips of what had happened after Verity-as-Dragon left the quarry. There was so much we did not know! I envisioned that reunion a hundred ways. Of course, you know that I waited in vain. And eventually, I realized you’d never come back to us of your own will.’ He sighed, remembering old pain and disappointment. Then he added quietly, ‘Still, I was glad to hear that you were alive.’
The words were not a rebuke. They were only his admission of pain. My choice had hurt him, but he had respected my right to make it. After my time with Rolf, he would have had spies watching for me. They would not know it was FitzChivalry Farseer they sought, but doubtless they had found me. Otherwise, how would Starling have found her way to my door, all those years ago? ‘You’ve always had an eye on me, haven’t you?’
He looked down at the table and said stubbornly, ‘Another man might see it as a hand sheltering you. As I have just told you, Fitz. I always keep track of significant people.’ He next spoke as if he could hear my thoughts. ‘I tried to leave you alone, Fitz. To find what peace you could, even if it excluded me from your life.’
Ten years ago, I could not have understood the pain in his voice. I would only have seen him as interfering and calculating. Only now, with a son of my own intent on ignoring every bit of advice I’d ever given him, could I recognize what it had cost him to let me go my own way and make my own choices. He had probably felt as I did about Hap, that he was so obviously choosing the wrong course. But Chade had let me steer it.
In that instant, I made my decision. I pushed Chade off balance with it. ‘Chade. If you wish, I could attempt … do you want me to try to teach you the Skill?’
His eyes were suddenly impenetrable. ‘Ah. So you offer that now, do you? Interesting. But I think I am proceeding with my own studies well enough. No, Fitz. I don’t wish you to teach me.’
I bowed my head. Perhaps I deserved his disdain. I took a breath. ‘Then I’ll do as you ask, this time. I’ll train Thick. Somehow, I’ll persuade him to let me teach him. As strong as he is, perhaps he will be all the coterie that Dutiful will need.’
Shock silenced him for a moment. Then, he smiled sourly, ‘I doubt that, Fitz. And you don’t doubt it; you don’t believe it at all. Nevertheless, for the time being, we will leave it at that. You will begin Thick’s training. In exchange, I will leave Nettle where she is. You have my thanks. And now I must go to see what mischief Dutiful had got himself into.’ He rose as if his back and knees pained him. I watched him go but said no more.
By all accounts, both Kebal Rawbread and the Pale Woman perished in the last month. They set sail in the last White Ship for Hjolikej with a crew of their most stalwart followers. They were not seen again, nor was any wreckage of the ship ever found. The assumption is that, like so many other Outisland ships, the dragons overflew it, throwing the crew into a vacant-eyed stupor, and then destroyed it with the great wind and waves that their wings could stir. As the ship was heavily loaded with what translates from the Outislander tongue as ‘dragonstone’, it probably went down swiftly.
A report to Chade Fallstar, penned at the end
of the Red Ship War
I made my slow descent to Lord Golden’s chambers. I tried to focus on the Prince’s difficulties, but could only wonder what larger problem I had created for myself. I could barely instruct the Prince, and he was an apt and amiable student. I’d be lucky if Thick didn’t kill me when I attempted to teach him. But there was a worse shadow to it. Chade had tempted me well, as only one who knew me so deeply could. Nettle, here at Buckkeep, where I could see her daily and watch her blossom into womanhood, and perhaps chart for her an easier life than the one Burrich and Molly could give her. I tried to tear that idea from my mind. It was a selfish yearning.
On my trip through Chade’s secret corridors, I made a brief detour to one of the spy-posts. I stood for a time beside it, hesitating. It would be the first time I had deliberately come to spy and listen. Then I sat down silently on the dusty bench and peered into the Narcheska’s chambers.
Fortune was with me. Their breakfast was still set out on the table between Peottre and the girl, though it did not look as if either one had eaten much. Her uncle was already dressed in his riding leathers. Elliania was in a pretty little frock, blue and white, with much lace on the cuffs and throat. Peottre was shaking his heavy head at her. ‘No, little one. As with a fish on a line, you must first set the hook before you can play him. Flaunt your displeasure with him now and he will avoid that bitter taste, to follow instead the bright feathers of someone else’s lure. You cannot show him what you feel, Elli. Set aside the insult; behave as if you did not notice it.’
She clacked her spoon back onto the tray, so that a tiny glop of porridge leapt from it. ‘I cannot. I have pretended as much calmness as I could muster, last night. Right now, I could not show him what I truly feel about him with less than a knife’s edge, Uncle.’
‘Ah. How well that would benefit your mother and little sister.’ He spoke the words quietly, but Elliania’s face grew very still, as if he spoke of death and disease in the next chamber. She tucked her proud little chin, bowing her head before him with lowered lashes. I sensed the strength of will she used to rein herself in and suddenly saw the changes that her months at Buckkeep had wrought in her. Peottre might call her his ‘little fish’ still, but this was a different girl from the one I had first spied on. The last vestiges of child had been hammered from her by the pounding of Buckkeep society. She spoke now with a woman’s determination.
‘I will do what I must, Uncle, for our mothers’ house. You know that. Whatever I must, to “hook” this fish.’ When she looked up at him, her mouth was set and flat in determination, but tears stood in her eyes.
‘Not that,’ he said quietly. ‘Not yet, and perhaps never at all. So I hope.’ He sighed suddenly. ‘But you must be warm to him, Elli. You cannot show him your anger. It tears my heart to say that to you, that you must appear untroubled by his insult. Smile upon him. Behave as if it never happened.’
‘She must do more than that.’ I could not see who spoke, but I recognized the serving-maid’s voice. She walked into view. I studied her more closely than I had previously. She appeared to be about my age, dressed simply as if she were a servant. Yet she bore herself as if she were in charge. Her hair and eyes were black, her cheeks wide, and nose small. She shook her head at both of them. ‘She must appear humble and willing.’
She paused, and I saw the muscles of Peottre’s face bunch as he clenched his jaws. It made the woman smile. She went on with evident relish. ‘And you must make him think it is possible that you will … yield yourself to him.’ Then she spoke in a deeper voice. ‘Bring the farmer-prince to heel, Elliania, and keep him there. He must not look at another, he must not even consider anyone else as someone to bed before he is wed. He must be yours alone. Somehow, you must claim him, heart and flesh. You have heard the Lady’s warning. If you fail in this, if he strays, and gets a child with another, you and yours are all doomed.’
‘I cannot do it!’ she burst out. She mistook her uncle’s horrified look for a rebuke, for she continued desperately,