Golden Fool (Tawny Man #2)

Golden Fool (Tawny Man #2) Page 249

“Yes, yes,” Chade interrupted me impatiently. “I haven’t forgotten what happened to me last time. But I do think that this is an event that deserves a celebration.”

The others seemed to share his sentiments. I am sure they thought me curmudgeonly and grumpy for my silence. Still, I brought forth the covered basket I had concealed beneath the table, and within it even Thick found enough to be satisfied. We had brandy all round, though I think Chade was the only one who truly needed restoring. The old man’s hands shook as he lifted the glass to his mouth, but nonetheless he smiled and offered a toast before he drank: “To those who may come, to form a true coterie for Prince Dutiful!” He gave me no sly glances and I joined with the others in drinking, even as I hoped Burrich would firmly keep Nettle at home.

Then I asked warily, “What do you think that other voice was? The one that said, ‘I know you now.’ ”

Thick ignored me and went on nibbling raisins with his front teeth. Dutiful gave me a puzzled glance. “Another voice?”

“Do you mean the girl who Skilled so clearly?” Chade asked, plainly shocked that I would call her to their attention. I think he had already deduced that she was Nettle.

“No,” I said. “That other voice, so foreign and strange. So... different.” I could not find words to express the wariness it had roused in me. It was like a dark premonition.

A moment of silence followed my words. Then Dutiful said, “I only heard the girl who said, ‘To Buckkeep?’

“And I the same,” Chade assured me. “There was no coherent thought after hers. I thought she was why you broke our linking.”

“Why would he do that?” Dutiful demanded.

“No,” I insisted, ignoring the Prince’s question. “Something else spoke. I tell you, I heard... something. Some kind of a being. Not human.”

This was an extraordinary enough statement to distract Dutiful from prying for Nettle’s identity. But as the other three all vowed they had sensed nothing, my claims were not taken seriously, and by the end of the session, I had begun to wonder if I had deceived myself.

Chapter XXV

CONVOCATION

. . . and nothing would do but that the Princess would have the dancing bear for her very own. Such a begging has not been heard for many a year, but at last she prevailed and her father gave the bear’s keeper a whole handful of gold coins for the beast. And the Princess herself took hold of the chain that went to the bear’s ring, and led the great, hulking creature up to her own bedchamber. But in the depth of the night, while all else in the keep slept, the boy rose up and threw off his bearskin. And when he showed himself to the Princess, she found him as comely a youth as she had ever seen. And it was not so much that he had his way with her, as that she had hers with him.

—“ THE BEAR-BOY AND THE PRINCESS”

One afternoon, the birches flushed pink and the packed snow of the courtyard turned to slush. Spring came that quickly to Buckkeep that year. By the time the sun went down, there were bare patches of earth showing on some of the best-trodden tracks. It was cold that night, and winter stilled everything with its touch, but the next morning the land awoke to the sound of trickling water and a warm sweeping wind.

I had slept in the barracks and slept well despite the snoring and night shifting of two dozen other men. I rose with the others, ate a hearty breakfast in the guardroom, and then returned to the barracks to don the purple and white of the Queen’s Guard. We buckled on our swords, collected our horses, and gathered in the courtyard.

Then there was the inevitable wait for the Prince to emerge. When he did come out, Councilor Chade and Queen Kettricken accompanied him. The Prince looked both polished and uncomfortable. Perhaps a dozen lesser nobles were there to see him off. Amongst the well-wishers were the six representatives the Six Duchies had originally sent to the Queen for her discussion of the Witted problem. I could tell by their faces that they had never expected to be involved in a face-to-face confrontation with the Witted, and they did not look forward to it. Lord Civil Bresinga was among those who stood in the slushing snow to bid the Prince farewell. From the back rank of the Queen’s Guard, I watched his still face and wondered how he felt about what was happening. By the Queen’s express command, no one would leave Buckkeep save the Guard and the Prince. She would take no chances of frightening away the already cautious Old Blood delegation.

The Queen gave brief instructions to her commander. I could not hear her words to Marshcroft, our leader, but I saw his face change. He made a sincere bow but disapproval was in every line of his face. And I was shocked to the core when a woman on horseback suddenly joined us leading the Queen’s mount. It took me a moment to recognize Laurel. She had cropped her hair short and dyed it black. Chade stepped forward, remonstrating, but the Queen looked adamant. She spoke briefly to him. I could not hear her words, but I saw the set line of the Queen’s jaw and Chade’s rising color. With a final curt nod to her councilor, she mounted, and signaled her readiness to Marshcroft. At his command, we all mounted, and then we followed our prince and Marshcroft as they led us out of the gates of Buckkeep. I glanced back to find Chade staring after us in horror. Why is she going with us? I Skilled frantically to Chade, but if he received my thought, he made no response.