Golden Fool (Tawny Man #2)

Golden Fool (Tawny Man #2) Page 242

A slow smile dawned over Chade’s features, even as he said, “Oh, you must be mistaken. I was sure I heard a shout in the distance.”

“So the Skill can seem at first. Until your mind learns to interpret what it senses.”

“Oh, my,” Chade said quietly. He looked afar, smiling pensively. Then he came back to me with a jolt. “I’d nearly forgotten why I’d summoned you. The Queen’s convocation of the Witted. It is actually going to happen, much to my surprise. We’ve had word to expect them in six days. It’s taken them time to gather themselves, and they ask that the Queen send her own guard to bring them in under a safe-passage flag. They asked for an exchange of hostages, too, of course, but I told her that was nonsense! Six days from now, they will send us a bird telling us where to meet them. They promise it will be within a day’s ride of Buckkeep. When we get to the rendezvous, they will come to us. They will be cloaked and hooded to protect their identities. I’d like you to go with them when they ride out.”

“Wouldn’t that seem very odd? Lord Golden’s personal bodyguard riding out with the Queen’s Guard on such a delicate mission?”

“It would, but for one thing. By then, you will have left Lord Golden’s service, and taken a position with the Queen’s Guard.”

“Won’t that be a rather abrupt change? How do we explain that?” And when did you decide that, you old fox?

“Easily enough. Captain Marshcroft will be anxious to secure your services, as he was so impressed with your ability to slay three men merely for attempting to steal your master’s pouch. A man that good with a blade would always be a welcome addition to the Queen’s Guard. If anyone asks, you can say that they offered you excellent wages, and that Lord Golden was only too willing to gain favor with the Queen by allowing her to hire his man away from him. Perhaps he is now comfortable enough at our court to see that he never needed a bodyguard at all.”

Chade stacked his logic nicely. I suspected he had a stronger motive than simply to have more access to me as a spy. I wondered if he wanted to separate me from Lord Golden lest he make any inroads on my loyalty to the Farseers. I edged around the question, asking him, “Why is it so essential to you that I ride with the Queen’s Guard now?”

“Well, for one thing, it will make it much easier to explain why you are chosen to accompany the Prince to the Out Islands in spring. You’ll be one of the lucky ones whose lot is chosen for the honor. But mostly because the Witted have asked that, as a token that we mean them no harm, Prince Dutiful ride out as part of their escort.”

I was instantly distracted. “Do you think that’s safe? It could be a trap to lure him into danger.”

He smiled grimly. “Why do you think I want you riding at his heels? Of course it’s possible it’s a trap. But the Witted must fear the same thing, must they not? So they ask for him, knowing that we would not risk the sole Farseer heir if there were any chance of a skirmish.”

“Old Blood,” I told him. “You must learn to say ‘Old Blood,’ not ‘Witted.’ Then you’ll send him out to escort them in?”

Chade scowled and admitted, “He has little choice in that, as little as I do. The Queen has already promised it to them.”

“In spite of your disapproval.”

Chade gave a snort of disdain. “My approval or disapproval means little to the Queen these days. She thinks, perhaps, that she has outgrown her need for me as a councilor. Well. We shall see.”

I could think of nothing to say to that. Truth to tell, and though it cost me a pang of disloyalty, I secretly rejoiced in my queen’s assertion of her strength.

The days to come were so full that the tensions of them almost crowded from my mind my concerns for the Fool. Despite the fragility of my health, Chade, Thick, Dutiful, and I began to meet every morning in the Seawatch tower. The Fool was not included in our meetings. Chade made no comment on this; given what I had told him, perhaps he viewed it as more desirable that the Fool not be a part of our coterie. I never brought the topic up. Only we four gathered, and there we pursued the Skill with an avidity that frightened me and enthused the rest of them. We made progress, careful and controlled progress that satisfied no one except me. Thick learned to confine his music, though it seemed to distress him in a way he could not explain. Dutiful became better at directing his Skill messages to individuals. Chade, as was to be expected, lagged the other two pupils. If we were physically touching, he could reach my mind faintly, and I his. Thick could direct an onslaught at him that would catch his attention but convey nothing. Dutiful could not seem to find him. Or Chade couldn’t be aware of him. I could not tell which problem it was so we worked on both of them. The mornings were both exhausting and nerve-wracking for me. I still got headaches, though they did not compare to the ones that had previously afflicted me.