Fool's Quest (The Fitz and The Fool Trilogy #2)

Fool's Quest (The Fitz and The Fool Trilogy #2) Page 264

That done, I sat down by myself for the first time since I’d returned from Withywoods. I toed off my boots and peeled the damp stockings from my feet. I sat and felt the heat of the fire penetrate my body. The brandy proved to be of an excellent quality and I reflected wearily that drinking it on an empty stomach was not my best idea today.

Fitz. Da? I’ve heard you are back at Buckkeep Castle. Both Dutiful and I are very anxious to sit down with you. Will you join us in my sitting room, please?

Of course. When?

Now, please. Dutiful had rather expected you would come to see him as soon as you’d returned.

Of course. I should have. I was concerned for the Fool.

And Chade, too.

I found him better than I expected, I admitted, and wondered a bit woefully how she knew so clearly of all my movements since I had returned.

He has good days, and some that are not so good. Will you come now, please? The king has taken this time for us from a very busy schedule.

Immediately.

Dry socks. I started to pull on the cleaned boots and then looked at myself. Rumpled shirt. Weather-stained trousers. I opened the wardrobe and found an array of new shirts, variously afflicted with buttons. I’d never owned so many clothes in my life and I wondered who was arranging these for me. Ash? Nettle? Some poor servant in charge of dressing bastards elevated to noble status?

They fit me well enough, though there was room for more paunch than was flattering. I’d chosen a blue shirt and I paired it with dark trousers. I added the vest that had been hung with the shirt. There was a ribbony thing with it that I didn’t know how to wear. I hoped it wasn’t important. The vest was long, hanging almost to my knees.

Neither the shirt nor the vest had any hidden pockets. As I went to my meeting with little more than the knife in my boot, I wondered how I would defend either of them if danger threatened. I felt oddly naked. I hurried down the corridors to Nettle’s chambers, stood outside her door, and hesitated. Then I knocked.

A serving boy opened it and said, “Oh! Prince FitzChivalry!” and then hit his head on the corner of the door as he dived into a low bow. I caught his elbow before he hit the floor and steadied him as he repeatedly apologized. I was still holding on to him when Nettle came to the door and demanded, “What goes on here?”

“He hit his head on the door frame,” I explained, and the boy babbled, “Yes, my lady, that was exactly what happened!” in such a panicked voice that I scarcely believed him, let alone Nettle. She gave me a horrified look and I tried to release the boy gently. He still sat down flat on the floor.

“This way, please,” she said and I followed her in silence.

“Really,” I whispered. “He bowed too fast and hit his head on the door.”

For all that Nettle was my daughter, I had visited her chambers only seldom on long-ago visits to Buckkeep. Now I entered her sitting room to find it as stuffed with royalty as a pie is with cherries. The king and the queen were both seated facing the hearth while Kettricken stood by the window, holding the curtain back to peer out at the evening. Shine was beside her. Lant and Prince Prosper stood near the mantel. Prince Integrity was poking the coals, and Dutiful’s Wit-dog gave me a piercing look as I entered. Chade was the only Farseer not present.

It was my turn to make a low bow to my king and queen. “My lord, my lady, I regret my delay in coming here today—”

“There’s no time left for formality.” Dutiful cut me off in a weary voice. “Nettle already told us that you are determined to go after the people who sent raiders into Buck to steal Bee and Lady Shine.”

Bluntness called for honesty. “Exactly,” I said.

“Your intent being?”

“Vengeance!” My queen spoke for me with a vehemence that surprised me. “Bloody and righteous vengeance on those who stole a daughter of our blood. Just as he wrought when the Pale Woman stole my mother and sister! If we had known that they had a distant den to hide in, we could have carried the war to them then! And this would never, never have happened!” Elliania lifted a shaking hand and pointed it at Integrity. “I give you my son. He will ride beside you, to avenge this grievous insult, this terrible loss to our motherhouse! I will send to my mother the Narcheska and my sister Kossi, and she will muster the men of the Narwhal Clan to join you!”

Integrity’s color was very high. “Mother, I vow …”

“Integrity! Vow not.” Dutiful shot me a desperate look. “It puts my lady very much in mind of the time when little Kossi was stolen. And at night, she has evil dreams of when she was tormented and forced to offer herself as bait to lure us into the Pale Woman’s trap.”