Fool's Quest (59 page)

The sun passed overhead and the clouds began to darken as the afternoon passed. Shun spoke aloud. “I don't think we want to be on these hills if it starts to snow. And we've been riding all day. We should look for a place to stop soon, rather than ride until dark.”

He gave a sigh. “I've been soldiering for two years now. Trust me. I'll find a good place for us to overnight. Remember, I'm taking you back to your people. You'll be safe with them.” He pointed ahead of us and said, “Just there, where the evergreens are? We'll go down into that valley for the night.” I looked at a forested hillside where rough stones jutted out of the snow among the trees. I finally grasped what had bothered me earlier.

I tugged at Shun's coat and hitched myself closer to speak by her ear. “That night, everyone was screaming and fighting and running away. Why does he have two horses and everything he needs?”

“Not everything,” Shun muttered back. “No food supplies, no pans for cooking. I think he was just lucky to catch these two horses.”

“Maybe,” I agreed reluctantly. It began to snow, big flakes that clung to our coats and flew into my face. I put my face against Shun's back. My face grew warmer, and the steady rhythm of the plodding horse tried to lull me to sleep. I felt a change in that rhythm and lifted my head. We were riding downhill now, threading our way between the trunks of big spruce trees. Here and there, stones stood up. It came to me that they were worked stone, as if walls and even buildings had once stood here. Our path meandered between the tumbled stones and the down-sweeping limbs of the trees. The snow was shallower here, but sometimes we brushed against one of the drooping branches and triggered a slide of snow.

“Not much farther now,” Kerf called back to us, and I felt grateful. I was so tired and sleepy. The trees were blocking most of what remained of the day's light.

Then Shun stiffened in the saddle. “Not much farther to what?” she demanded.

He glanced back at us. “Your people,” he said.

I had one glimpse of firelight through the trees and then Shun pulled the horse around hard. I clung to her coat, nearly sliding off, as she kicked the horse and shouted, “Go, go, go!”

But it was too late. Their white coats had been almost invisible against the snow in the dimming light, but there they were. Two abruptly blocked the trail behind us and when Shun tried to rein the horse aside, Reppin jumped and seized its bridle. Shun tried to ride her down but the brown snorted and half-reared and then I was torn free of my grip on Shun's coat as another White seized me and pulled me from the horse. “I have him! I have the shaysim!” Alaria shouted.

“Don't hurt him!” Dwalia commanded, coming toward us. Shun was screaming and kicking at the lurik who held the brown horse's head, and Kerf was shouting at her, “Be calm! You're safe now! I've brought you back to your people!”

“You bastard!” she shouted at him. “You treacherous wretch! I hate you! I hate all of you!” She tried once more to stir the horse, but Kerf had dismounted and was tugging at her, saying, “What is the matter? You're back with your people, you're safe now!”

I had ceased my struggling but Shun fought on, shouting and kicking. Vindeliar was there, smiling a warm welcome at me, and I knew then how Kerf had been used against us to do Dwalia's will. Alaria held me captive, firmly gripping the back of my coat and my arm as she pulled me toward the small campfire. I had dreaded to see the soldiers still there, but there was just one horse, a blanket pegged from the ground to a tree as a sort of shelter, and a small fire burning. Dwalia's face was bruised. She rushed at me and seized my other arm.

“Hurry!” she whisper-shouted at the others. “They are still hunting for us. Two of them passed at the bottom of the hill not long ago. We must get the shaysim away from here as quickly as we can.” She shook me roughly by the sleeve. “And don't think to pass yourself off as a boy any longer! A girl. Not what we were sent after. But you're the only coin we have to buy our way back into good graces at Clerres. Hurry! Get her under control! Don't let her scream! She'll bring them down on us if she hasn't already!”

They had dragged Shun from her horse and Kerf had a firm grip on her wrist. “What's wrong with you? You're safe now!” he kept saying. She bared her teeth at him, still struggling.

“Hold her!” Dwalia ordered the two luriks and thrust me at them. Alaria seized my wrist and Reppin took my other arm. They gripped me between them, holding my arms so tightly that they almost lifted me off the ground. From a pouch at her hip, Dwalia had pulled out a scroll and a single strange glove. I could not tell what it was made from. The hand of it was pale and thin, almost translucent, but to three of the fingertips a shriveled silvery button had been attached.

“I don't even know if this will work,” Dwalia said, and her voice shook. She unrolled the scroll and held it by the tiny fire. They had shielded it with packed snow on all sides to keep us from seeing it too soon. She had to bend close. She studied something written on it, then straightened and ordered, “Bring her, bring both of them to the stone. I will go first, then Vindeliar. Alaria, take Vindeliar's hand and grip the shaysim tight. Reppin, you take the shaysim's other hand, and also Kerf's. Kerf, bring the woman. Soula, you are last. We'll have to leave the horses.”

My head was spinning. Still caught, still dragged along with them, into ever greater danger. I could imagine no good ending for us. I had no idea why she wished us all to hold hands. Reppin gripped my wrist as if she wished to break it. Perhaps she did. Kerf was not as mean but he had stripped his mittens off to grip my other wrist. There would be no tugging free. I tried. He smiled benignly as I struggled. How had I not seen how dazed he was?

I heard voices through the trees. Chalcedean. They were calling to one another in Chalcedean. “Now!” Dwalia cried, and she sounded almost hysterical. I could not make out what she intended to do, and then I saw the standing stone that now leaned drunkenly, nearly toppled by the immense spruce that had grown up beside it.

“No!” I cried as Dwalia gripped Vindeliar and reached toward the faded glyph with her gloved hand. “No, it's dangerous! My father said it's dangerous!” But her hand touched the stone and I saw her dragged in. She did not release Vindeliar and he followed her, and then Alaria. I screamed and I heard an answering scream from Shun. Then, in an instant as brief as a flash of lightning, I saw. I understood. Change it. One tiny chance to change it. Not for me. My escaping was too unlikely. Reppin would never release me, and if she did, they'd come back for me. But I could change it for Shun. I suddenly coiled down, mouth wide, to where Kerf's bared hand gripped my wrist. I bit his forefinger as hard as I could, sinking my teeth into the second joint, tasting his blood as he yelped. He let go of Shun to slap at me but I held tight to his hand, teeth, and fingers as I dragged him with me into a tarry darkness dotted with distant stars.

That long, cold day faded slowly.

The lone surviving Chalcedean died quickly. I tried to ask him about Bee, but he only shook his head and groaned. Any information the others knew had been lost with their lives.

I stood, shaking my head. The commander of the Ringhill Guard, one Spurman, was already giving his men orders to gather the bodies. Foxglove rode over to me. Her face was full of hope as she dismounted. “No,” I said softly to her unspoken question. “She was here and so was Shine. But the Chalcedeans and the captives fought a day or more ago. Bee and Shine fled when the Chalcedeans turned on one another. They are at least a day gone, perhaps two. Where they are now, no one seems to know.”

“I'll organize a search,” she replied calmly. “They can't have gone far. Fitz, we'll find them.”

“So we all hope.” I lifted my voice as I turned to my guard. “Captain Foxglove will be conducting a search for escaped Chalcedeans. Watch for any of their captives or any stragglers.” I turned a firm gaze on my Rousters, where they had assembled in a rough formation separate from my guard. “Alive,” I cautioned them. “Any pale rider in white furs, any captive of theirs, or any Chalcedean mercenary you find, take them alive.”

Foxglove was shaking her head. “Not likely. We've seen two bodies in white furs. Both looked as if they'd cut their own throats. Probably rather than be taken by the Chalcedeans. We ambushed some Chalcedeans on their way to the ship. And chased what remained of them back here.”

“Do what you can, then,” I said quietly.

I left Foxglove to organize the search while I returned to the tent where Bee and Shine had slept. A more leisurely inspection of it turned up nothing that I connected to either of them. A very pale Lant had followed me there. He stared at the corner where they'd slept.

“How do you know they were here?” he asked me as Riddle came into the tent.

I picked up a blanket and tossed it to him. “Shine's perfume lingers on some of the bedding. It's not strong, but it's there.”

He nodded slowly, and held the blanket to his breast. Slowly he turned and left the tent, still clutching it. “He shouldn't be here,” Riddle said to me in a low voice.

“On that, we agree.”

“I mean that he's injured. And heartsick. Not that he's incompetent.”

I kept silent.

“You're too hard on him, Fitz. He can't help who he is, or what he isn't. I, for one, am glad for what he isn't. And I was very glad of his sword a short time ago. Nettle was nearly a widow before she was a mother.”

“I don't dislike him,” I said, and wondered if that were true. “He's just not the sort of man I need backing me right now.”

“Nor am I, then, I suppose.”

I stared at him. He turned and left the tent. I followed. In the thin winter sunlight, he stretched and then turned to look back at me. “You drugged us and left us. Like discarded baggage. I understand the other two. Per is just a boy yet, and Lant is injured. But why me?”

“I couldn't get them to drink it without your sharing it, too.”

He looked away from me. “No, Fitz. I can think of a dozen ways around that, from joggling my arm when I started to drink to telling me what you were doing.”

It was hard to admit the truth. “I didn't want any of you to witness what I might have to do. I didn't want you to see me as … what I truly am. What I had to be today.” I glanced toward where Hogen's body had been. Foxglove was there, ordering it dragged away by the Ringhill Guard to join the other bodies piled for burning. I wondered if anyone would notice how I'd mutilated him.

“I think I know who you are.”

I met his gaze and gave him honesty. “Probably you do. I'm still not proud to have you see it. Let alone watch me do it.” I looked away from him. “I'd rather that my daughter's husband, the father of my grandchild, not be a party to things like this.”

He looked at me.

I tried to explain. “Once you are a father, you have to try to be a better man than you truly are.”

He stared. Then he laughed. “Me especially?”

“No. No, not you. I meant myself. That I tried.”

He clapped me on the shoulder. “The carris seed is catching up with you, Fitz. But I do know what you mean.”

“How did you know?”

“Your breath reeks of it.”

“I needed it,” I excused myself.

“So. Share with me now. And let's get started on our own search. If you were Bee and Shine and able to flee, where would you go?”

“I'd probably backtrack to that town, assuming they passed through it.” I passed him the folded paper that had held the carris seed. He shook the few remaining seeds into his palm then clapped them to his mouth. He chewed.

“Me, too,” he agreed. “Let's send Lant, the boy, and your roan horse on to Ringhill Keep. Have Lant give a report to the Skill-user there to relay to Nettle and Dutiful while you and I begin our search.”

It was past dark when Riddle and I rode through the gates of Ringhill Keep. Our searches had yielded nothing, nor had Foxglove's soldiers discovered anything. Four times Riddle and I had followed tracks. We'd found one wandering horse that had probably just bolted and a Chalcedean body, and twice the tracks had merged with well-traveled roads. We'd asked in the village, and visited four different isolated farmsteads. No one had seen anything or anyone. By the time we returned to the campsite for a final visit, the area had been so overridden that there were no longer any tracks worth following. The smoldering remains of the bone-fire gave off a greasy smell. Night was coming on, and I was finished.

As its name suggested, the Ringhill Keep fortification ringed one of the hills that overlooked the coast of Buck. From its vantage, one could watch ships approach Forge, Salter's Deep, and the smaller fishing villages that fringed that part of the coast. It was not a grand keep, but like many settlements in Buck it was growing. We allowed the stable boys to take our horses. I had used Perseverance's mount. The lad had ridden Priss and gentled Fleeter here. I thought of checking on her but as I knew it must, the carris seed had deserted me. I was weary past exhaustion, and the dark mood of elfbark had claimed me.

I did my best to be civil as the commander of the keep greeted me. Commander Spurman invited Kesir Riddle and me to join him for a late repast. They put us in the best lodging the keep had, and urged us to take advantage of the steams. I had no heart for cleanliness, but forced myself through the ritual. We shared the steams with a dozen or more guardsmen, still drunk on blood and battle. My efforts to remain unnoticed were useless, and I had to accept congratulations from them.

When we entered the dining hall, I found not only Spurman but also a handful of his officers, Foxglove, Lant, and several others convened. I had expected a small and simple meal, but Spurman had ordered up the best his keep could offer. For a moment, I was baffled. Then I recalled that I was a prince. Carris seed. My head felt full of wool. Time to tighten my thoughts and be very careful.

I do not know how I survived that meal. I decided it was better to be seen as taciturn than as a man who made unrelated comments. When the meal was over, I hoped to retreat to my bed, but killing Chalcedeans within Buck was an activity that seemed to require a thorough discussion. Over and over Spurman and his officers marveled at the Chalcedeans' audacity and wondered who their peculiar allies had been and what they had hoped to achieve. Riddle, Lant, and Foxglove all expressed puzzlement, and I maintained my noble silence. When the talk ran down, the keep's Skill-user found a moment to draw Riddle and me aside. “A private word before you retire, gentlemen, if you are not too weary?”

I was so tired my ears were humming, but as we bade everyone good night and left the gathering, she managed to catch up with us. Out of earshot of the others, she still looked embarrassed as she told us, “I am to inform you, in the strongest possible terms, that you are to return to Buckkeep Castle as soon as you are able.”

Riddle and I exchanged a glance. “Was the message from Skillmistress Nettle or King Dutiful?”

“Yes. She relayed the king's will in this.”

I thanked the Skill-user, and both Riddle and I moved slowly toward our rooms. At a bend in the corridor, I asked him, “How angry is Nettle, do you think?”

“Very,” he said shortly. And in that terse response, I sensed that he wished to keep that aspect of our fiasco private. For a time I was silent. Nettle was pregnant and should have had a time of peace and happiness as she waited for her child. I had driven a wedge between her and Riddle. I tried to tell myself that it was outside my control, that her sister being stolen had destroyed peace and happiness for all of us. Yet I could not quite convince myself.

I walked more slowly. “Before we go back to Buck, I want to see the ship they came on.”

He shook his head. “It's not tied up in Salter's Deep anymore. It was confiscated days ago. Spurman told me that they removed the ship as part of the ambush. The crew claimed to know nothing except that they'd been hired and paid very well to simply stay aboard and wait for their passengers to come back. They came out of the Pirate Isles, and were hired new to the ship and one another. Most of them seemed glad to walk away from it.”

“No chart on board with Clerres marked on it?” I was half-jesting, but Riddle took me seriously.

“Nothing. Literally nothing. No extra clothing left aboard, not a trinket or a shoestring. Only the crew and their bits of possessions. Nothing to indicate there had even been passengers.”

Despair gaped like a dry well in front of me. I could not indulge in that. I could not curse nor weep. Such things prevent a man from thinking, and I needed to think clearly. I reached the door of my room and opened it. Riddle followed me in.

“So. We return to Buckkeep Castle tomorrow,” he told me.

“So I planned.”

“We are ordered back, Fitz. That's a bit different.”

“Oh.” It took a moment for me to consider all the ramifications of that. Prince FitzChivalry, so recently acknowledged and lauded, was being summoned back to Buckkeep like a recalcitrant page. This was not going to be pleasant for anyone. I grasped abruptly how much of my personal freedom had vanished when Chade had taken my arm and presented me to the court. What had seemed a family matter, my sidestepping my cousin's request that I not go off on my own, now loomed as a prince directly disobeying his king's directive. Dutiful had reminded me he was my king, and I'd admitted that to him. And then done as I thought best, as if I were merely Tom Badgerlock. No. Not even Tom Badgerlock should have defied his king that way. I chewed my lower lip.

Riddle sank down to sit on the edge of my bed. “I see that you understand.”

I walked to the window and stared out at the lights of Salter's Deep. “I wish you hadn't been dragged into it.”

“Oh, Fitz, I dragged myself into it. I could have just reported that I suspected you were going alone, and the Buckkeep Guard would have brought you back.”

I turned to stare at him. “Truly?”

He shrugged. “I don't know. They might have just told me to drag you back quietly. A task that neither of us would have relished.” He gave a small sigh. “No, I got myself into this.”

“Sorry to have put you in that position.” Loyalty to me or to Nettle, and he'd chosen me. That did not bode well for any of us.

And me? I'd chosen my duty as a father over my duty as a prince to a king. As I knew I would again. As I must.

Bee, where are you?
My heart cried out for her, and shame wafted over me. Why couldn't I find and save my child? We'd come so close. I'd seen where she had slept, just days ago.

Riddle's voice jolted me. “Fitz. This is a terrible question but it must be asked. At what point do we accept that Bee and Shine are lost to us?”

I turned wild eyes upon him. “Don't even say that!”

“I have to say it. Someone has to ask it. You know as well as I do that they may both be already dead, out in the forest. We have no trail left to follow. The Servants and the Chalcedeans are all dead or fled.” He came to join me at the window. “We've no clues left to follow. The best we can hope now is that they turn up on their own at a farmstead or inn.”

“And the worst that can happen is that things remain as they are now. With us having no idea whatever became of them.”

For a time, we both stood in silence. I tried to find a thread of hope. “We did not find Vindeliar or Dwalia,” I reminded him.