Golden Fool (Tawny Man #2)

Golden Fool (Tawny Man #2) Page 245

“He’s the Prince. Not a king,” Thick interrupted anxiously.

“Yes. And?”

“Can’t be a King’s Man then. It won’t work.”

I found my patience. “It’s all right, Thick. It will work. You will be serving as a Prince’s Man.”

“Serving. Like a servant?” He was instantly affronted.

“No. Helping. Like a friend. Thick will be helping Dutiful as a Prince’s Man. Shall we try this?”

Dutiful was grinning, but it did not mock his man. Thick turned to him, caught the grin from him, and settled himself next to the Prince. “It should be easy for both of you,” I suggested. I didn’t know if I lied or not. “Thick must simply be open to the Skill, but not making any effort. Dutiful should draw strength from him and use the Skill to try to reach Chade. Dutiful. Go slowly. And if I tell you to stop, you must break the contact immediately. Now. Begin.”

I thought I had planned for every possibility. I had sweet foods such as Thick loved and brandy if we needed a restorative. Both waited on the table. I wondered now if that had been a bad idea. Thick’s eyes kept wandering to some currant buns. Would they distract him too much from his Skilling? I had wanted to have elfbark and hot water ready as well, but Chade had sternly overruled me. “Far better if the Prince’s coterie is never exposed to such a destructive drug,” he opined righteously. I didn’t remind him that he had taught me the use of it.

I hovered anxiously behind the Prince as he set his hand to Thick’s shoulder. If it appeared he were draining the little man, I was prepared to physically break the link between them. Well did I know that a Skill-user could deliberately kill that way. I wanted no tragic accidents.

We waited. After a time, I gave Chade a significant look. He raised his eyebrows at me.

“Begin,” I suggested to the two of them.

“I’m trying,” said Dutiful in exasperation. “I can Skill to Thick. But I don’t know how to draw his strength off and use it.”

“Hm. Thick, can you help him?” I suggested.

Thick opened his eyes and looked at me. “How?” he asked.

I didn’t know. “Just be open to him. Think of sending him your strength.”

Again, they settled. I watched Chade’s face, hoping for some sign that Dutiful had touched minds with him. But after a short time, Dutiful lifted his eyes to mine. His mouth twisted in a small smile. “He’s Skilling ‘strength, strength, strength’ to me,” he confided.

“You said to!” Thick protested angrily.

“Yes. So I did,” I assured him. “Calm down, Thick. No one is mocking you.”

He glared at me, breathing through his nose. Dogstink.

Dutiful flinched. Chade’s lips twitched but he managed not to smile. “Dog stink. Is that the message you wished to convey to me?”

“I believe Thick intended that comment for me,” I said carefully.

“But it went through me to Chade, my target. I felt it,” Dutiful said excitedly.

“Well. At least we make progress,” I said.

“Can I have a bun now?”

“No, Thick. Not yet. We all need to work on this.” I pondered a moment. Dutiful had directed Thick’s Skill. Did that mean he had actually taken strength from Thick to break through to Chade, or that he had simply diverted Thick’s message intended for me to Chade?

I didn’t know. I didn’t think there was any way I could be absolutely certain of what had happened. “Try it together,” I suggested. “Both of you attempt to send the same message to Chade, and only Chade. Try to make a concerted effort.”

“Concerted?”

“Do it together,” Dutiful supplied to Thick. There was a moment of silent conference between the two. I suspected they chose a message. “Now,” I suggested and watched Chade’s face.

He furrowed his brow. “Something about a bun.”

Dutiful gave a sigh of exasperation. “Yes, but that wasn’t what we were supposed to be conveying. Thick is having a bit of difficulty concentrating.”

“I’m hungry.”

“No you aren’t. You just want to eat,” Dutiful told him. Which put Thick into a sulk. No amount of prodding or persuasion would induce him to try again. We eventually allowed him the food and resolved to take a lesson from it on the morrow.

Yet the next morning we seemed doomed to have as little luck as before. Spring was in the air. I had thrown the window shutters open wide to the dawn. As yet, the sun was only a promise on the horizon, but the wind off the ocean had a lively and freshened air to it that spoke of life and change in the seasons. I stood breathing it in for a long time while I waited for the others to arrive.