Fool's Fate (Tawny Man #3)

Fool's Fate (Tawny Man #3) Page 86

Greetings finished, the women of the Narwhal mothershouse led the Prince and his party away. His guard followed them, and then came Web, Swift, and I with Thick. The lad walked before us while Web and I supported Thick. Behind us came the Boar crew, talking of beer and women and making jests about the four of us. Above us, Risk wheeled in the clear blue sky. Beach gravel crunched under our feet on the well-tended road.

I had expected Wuislington to be larger and closer to the water. As the Boar sailors, impatient with our plodding progress, passed us, Web engaged one in conversation. The man was plainly eager to hasten on with his fellows, and just as obviously reluctant to be seen in the company of the half-wit and his keepers. So his response was brief but courteous, as Web always seemed to bring out courtesy in those he spoke to. He explained that the harbor was good but not excellent. There was little current to worry about, but when the prevailing winds blew they were strong and cold enough “to scour the flesh from a man's bones!” Wuislington was built in a sheltered dip of the land, just beyond the next rise, where the wind blew over it rather than through it.

So we found it to be. The town was cupped in a sheltering palm of land. We followed the road down into it, and the day seemed to grow stiller and warmer as we descended. The town below us was well planned. The wood-and-stone mothershouse was the largest structure, towering as stronghouse over the simpler cottages and huts of the town. An immense painted narwhal decorated the slated roof of the house. Behind the mothershouse was a cultivated green that reminded me of the Women's Gardens at Buckkeep Castle. The streets of the town were laid out in concentric rings around it, with most of the markets and tradesmen's homes at the section nearest to the sea road. All this we saw before our closeness to it hid it from us.

The Prince's party had long vanished from our sight, but Riddle came back to us, puffing slightly from trotting. “I'm to show you to your lodging,” he explained.

“We won't be housed with the Prince, then?” I asked uneasily.

“They'll be housed as guests in the mothershouse, along with his minstrel and companions. There is special housing for warriors of visiting clans, outside the stronghouse. Men of other clans may be guests there during the day, but warriors are not permitted to spend the night within the stronghouse. The Prince's Guard will be housed away from him. We don't like it, but Lord Chade has told Captain Longwick to accept it. And a cottage has been arranged for Thick. The Prince orders that you take lodging with him.” Riddle looked uncomfortable. In a quieter voice, as if offering apology, he added, “I'll make sure your sea chest is brought there. And his things, as well.”

“Thanks.”

I didn't have to ask. Thick's difference made him unacceptable as a guest in the mothershouse. Well, at least they had been wise enough not to put us in with the guards. Nonetheless, it was becoming taxing to me to share Thick's outcast status. Little as I liked the intrigues of the Farseer Court, when I was too far removed from Dutiful and Chade, I felt ill at ease. I knew we were in danger here, but the greatest danger is always the one we are ignorant of. I wanted to hear what Chade heard, to know moment by moment how our negotiation was unfolding. Yet Chade could not demand that we be housed closer to the Prince, and someone had to remain with Thick. I was the logical choice. It all made sense, which didn't decrease the frustration I felt.

They did not insult us. The one-room stone cottage was clean, even though it smelled of disuse. Obviously it had not been inhabited for some months, yet there was wood in the hod and pots for cooking. The water cask was brimming with cold fresh water. There was a table and chairs, and a bed with two blankets on it in the corner. Sunlight lay across the floor in a fall from the single window. I'd stayed in worse places.

Thick said little as we settled him onto the bed. He was wheezing from the walk and his cheeks were red, but it was not the flush of health but the mark of a sick man who had overexerted himself. I pulled the shoes from his feet and then tucked the blankets around him. I suspected that the nights would be chilly here even in summer, and wondered if the two coverings would be enough to keep him comfortable.

“Do you need any help here?” Web asked me. Swift stood impatiently by the door, looking toward the mothershouse, two streets away.

“Not from you, but I'll need Swift for a time.” I had expected the look of dismay the boy gave me. It didn't dampen my resolve. I took coin from my purse. “Go to the market. I have no idea what you'll find there. Be very polite, but get us something to eat. Meat and vegetables for a soup. Fresh bread if they have it. Fruit. Cheese, fish. Whatever this will buy.”