Fool's Fate (Tawny Man #3)

Fool's Fate (Tawny Man #3) Page 190

At the door of her grand hall they parted us, the Fool's captors taking him in one direction and mine jostling me along in the other. “Fitz!” His sudden shout startled me and made me strain against my guards' grip. One gently twisted my arm higher behind my back. I set my heels to the ice and skidded as they dragged me relentlessly on. The Fool's shout came faint to my ears. “I knew my fate! I chose to meet it! Stay your course and do not doubt! All will be as—” His shout ended in a muffled cry, and then they staggered me around a corner and down yet another icy hall.

“Where are they taking him?” I demanded, and received another example of the Pale Woman's guard's idea of gentleness as a gauntleted fist doubled me over. I could almost take a full breath again when they paused at one of the icy doors. One of the guards produced a long tool and thrust it into a small opening in the ice. He jigged it until I heard a catch give, and then pulled the door open with it. They threw me inside and I landed facedown on some patchy deerskins on the floor. One followed me, and I rolled, trying to escape the punishment sure to come, but he only caught at my bound wrists, pulled them up high and screamingly tight, and then suddenly released them. The knife he had used to cut the bindings nicked my hand in passing. He was not concerned. “Don't make noise!” he warned me. “She doesn't like it, and I don't like having to come and make you be quiet.”

The icy door closed behind him before I could think of a reply. The earlier blow to my head had left me woozy. I lifted my head just enough to be sure I was alone in the chamber. As soon as I was reassured that no Forged Ones lurked there, I let my head drop, closed my eyes, and tried to think.

I opened them again. A minute, a day, a week had passed. The light in the chamber remained the same. I had had no useful thoughts, and perhaps I had slept. I got up slowly, feeling various aches. They were washed from my awareness by the tide of anxiety I felt for the Fool. Where had they taken him and what was his fate? It suddenly seemed incomprehensible to me that we had not struggled harder to keep from being separated.

My cell was quickly explored. The bed was a wooden box of straw with several blankets over it. A bucket in the corner for waste. Another bucket held water, skimmed over with ice. A rag by it suggested that perhaps it was for washing. The deer hides on the floor. I patted my clothes. My guards must have taken the dragon tools while I was unconscious. I had no weapons, not even the Fool's little knife. No windows except the low slit in the unyielding door. A light globe was stuck to the ceiling, far out of my reach. No food. No way to measure the passage of time. I moved from the floor to the bed, such as it was. I considered Nighteyes' old advice: when sleep is the only comfort you can take, take it. It will leave you better prepared for whatever might come next.

I closed my eyes and tried to sleep. It didn't work. I tried to Skill. Nothing. I quested out with my Wit. I could vaguely sense other humans nearby, but the prevailing presence was that of the dragon. And then Icefyre was gone again. I sat up and leaned the bruised back of my head against the icy wall of my chamber. It eased the throbbing. I must have dozed, for I woke with my hair frosted to the wall. I pulled free slowly, groaning irritably at myself.

I had explored the slit in the door and the crack that outlined the edges of the door several times when the guard came back. I was sitting on the floor, peering out of my cell. I wondered if I should be flattered that she sent three guards for me. They were different men from the ones that had captured us. “Lie facedown on the floor!” one of them ordered me through the door slit.

I obeyed. Fighting three men would not improve my physical condition. I heard them come in, and one of them matter-of-factly dropped a knee into my back to hold me still while he roped my wrists behind me again. They used the rope and my hair to haul me to my feet. They were a practiced team, with no need to speak as they marched me out of my cell and down the corridor. They marched me grimly down the hall.

“Where is my companion? The tawny man that was with me?”

A punch to my left side, just below my ribs, answered me. They marched on, dragging me until I got my feet under me again. We passed no one else, and I realized that I had lost my bearings. The icy corridors were all too much the same. Even if I had been released that instant, I would not have known where to begin searching for either the Fool or a way out. For now, my only option seemed to be to go with them.

Then we came to an arched portal of ice with doors of polished wood. One of my guards knocked. A woman's voice bade them bring me in. The doors opened and we entered the Pale Woman's bedchamber.