The Complete Tawny Man Trilogy: Fool’s Errand, The Golden Fool, Fool’s Fate. Robin Hobb
towards you, if it works as I hope it will. When you try to create a variation on a standard theme, it often lacks strength. Sit still, now.’
She walked behind my chair with the dangling necklace. I watched her lower it past my face, and without being told, I bowed my head so she could fasten it at the nape of my neck. The charm made me feel no different, but her cool fingers against my skin sent a prickling chill over me. Her voice came from behind me. ‘I flatter myself that I got this fit right. It must not be too loose or it will dangle, nor so tight it chokes. Let me see it on you now. Turn around.’
I did as I was bid, twisting in my chair. She looked at the necklace, looked at my face, and then grinned broadly. ‘Oh, yes, that will do. Though you are taller than I recalled. I should have used a narrower bead for that … Well, it will do. I had thought it might take some adjusting, but I fear if I tinker with it, I will take it back to its origin. Now, wear it with your collar pulled up, like so, so just a slice of it shows. There. If you are in a situation where you feel it might be useful, find an excuse to loosen your collar. Let it be seen, and folk will find you a more persuasive talker. Like so. Even your silences will seem charming.’
She looked down into my face as she tugged my collar more open about the charm. I looked up at her and felt a sudden blush heat my face. Our eyes locked.
‘It works very well indeed,’ she observed, and unabashedly lowered her face to offer me her mouth. Not to kiss her was unthinkable. She pressed her mouth to mine. Her lips were warm.
We sprang apart guiltily as the doorhandle rattled. The door scraped open, and a woman’s silhouette was outlined against the day’s brightness. Then she came inside, pushing the door shut behind her. ‘Whew. It’s cooler in here, thank Eda. Oh. Beg pardon. Were you doing a reading?’
She had the same scattering of freckles on her nose and forearms. Clearly, this was Jinna’s niece. She looked about twenty or so, and carried a basket full of fresh fish on her arm.
Fennel ran to greet her, wrapping around her ankles. You love me best. You know you do. Pick me up.
‘Not a reading. Testing a charm. It seems to work.’ Jinna’s voice invited me to share her amusement. Her niece glanced from Jinna to me, knowing she had been excluded from some joke, but taking it genially. She picked up Fennel and he rubbed his face against her, marking his possession.
‘And I should be going. I’m afraid I have several other errands to do before I am required back at the keep.’ I wasn’t sure that I wanted to leave. But how interested I was in staying did not fit in at all with what I was supposed to be doing in Buckkeep. Most of all, I felt I needed a bit of time alone to decide what had just happened, and what it meant to me.
‘Must you go so right away?’ Jinna’s niece asked me. She seemed genuinely disappointed at seeing me rise from my chair. ‘There’s plenty of fish, if you’d care to stay and eat with us.’
Her impromptu invitation took me aback, as did the interest in her eyes.
My fish. I’ll eat it soon. Fennel leaned down to look fondly at the food.
‘The charm seems to work very well indeed,’ Jinna observed in an aside. I found myself tugging at my collar.
‘I really must go, I’m afraid. I’ve work to do, and I’m expected back at the keep. But thank you for the invitation.’
‘Perhaps another time, then,’ the niece offered, and Jinna added, ‘Certainly another time, my dear. Before he leaves, let me introduce Tom Badgerlock. He has asked me to keep watch for his son, a young friend of mine named Hap. When Hap arrives, he may stay with us for a day or so. And Tom will certainly have supper with us then. Tom Badgerlock, my niece, Miskya.’
‘Miskya, a pleasure,’ I assured her. I lingered long enough to exchange parting pleasantries, and then hurried out into the sunlight and noise of the city. As I hastened back to Buckkeep, I watched the reactions of folk I met. It did seem that more smiled at me than usually did, but I realized that might simply be their reaction to my meeting their eyes. I usually looked aside from strangers on the street. A man unnoticed is a man unremembered, and that is the best that an assassin can hope for. Then I reminded myself that I was no longer an assassin. Nonetheless, I decided that I would remove the necklace as soon as I got home. I found that having strangers regard me benevolently for no reason was more unnerving than having them distrust me on sight.
I made my steep way up to the keep gate and was admitted by the guardsmen there. The sun was high, the sky blue and clear, and if any of the passing folk were aware that the sole heir to the Farseer crown had vanished, they showed no sign of it. They moved about their ordinary tasks with no more than the concerns of a working day to vex them. By the stable, several tall boys had converged on a plump young man. I knew him for a dullard by his flat face and small ears and the way his tongue peeped out of his mouth. Dull fear showed in his small eyes as the boys spread to encircle him. One of the older stablehands looked towards them irritably.
No, no, no.
I turned, seeking the source of the floating thought, but of course that availed me nothing. A faint snatch of music distracted me. A stable-boy, sent hurrying about his tasks, jolted into me, then, at my startled look, begged my pardon most abjectly. Without thinking, I had allowed my hand to ride my sword hilt. ‘No harm done,’ I assured him, and added, ‘Tell me, where would I find the Weaponsmaster this time of day?’
The boy stopped suddenly, looked more closely at me, and smiled. ‘Down at the practice courts, man. They’re just past the new granary.’ He pointed the way.
I thanked him, and as I turned away, I tugged my collar closed.
Hunting cats are not entirely unknown within Buck Duchy, but they have remained for years an anomaly. Not only is the terrain of Buck more suited to hound-hunting, but also hounds are more suited to the larger game that is usually the prey of mounted hunters. A lively pack of hounds, boiling and baying, is a fine accompaniment for a royal hunt. The cat, when it is employed, is usually seen as more fittingly the dainty hunting-companion of a lady, suitable for the taking of rabbits or birds. King Shrewd’s first queen, Queen Constance, kept a little hunting cat, but more for pleasure and companionship than sport. Her name was Hisspit.
Sulinga’s A History of Coursing Beasts
‘The Queen wishes to see you.’
‘When?’ I asked, startled. It was hardly the greeting I had expected from Chade. I had opened the panel that admitted me to his tower to find him sitting in his chair before the hearth, waiting for me. He stood immediately.
‘Now, of course. She wants to know what progress we have made, and is naturally anxious to hear from you as soon as possible.’
‘But I haven’t made any progress,’ I protested. I had not even reported my day’s work to Chade yet. I probably stank of sweat from the weapons court.
‘Then she’ll want to hear that,’ he replied relentlessly. ‘Come. Follow me.’ He triggered the door and we left the tower chamber.
It was evening. I had spent my afternoon doing as the Fool had advised me, playing the role of a servant learning his way about a new place. As such, I’d talked to quite a number of my fellow servitors, introduced myself to Weaponsmaster Cresswell, and successfully arranged it that he would suggest I freshen my blade skills against Delleree. She proved to be a formidable swordswoman, nearly as tall as I was, and both energetic and light-footed. I was pleased she could not get past my guard, but I was soon panting with the effort of maintaining it. Trying to penetrate her defences was not yet an option for me. The weapons training Hod had enforced on me long ago stood me in good stead, but my body simply could not react as swiftly as my mind. Knowing what to do under an attack is not the same thing as being able to do it.
Twice I begged leave for breathing space and she granted