Fool's Quest - Страница 90

Queen Elliania spoke. She did not raise her voice but her clear words carried. “Sir, did you at any time outright forbid their ill behavior? Did you remind them that Thick was entrusted to their care?”

Lant paused to think, and my heart sank for him. He hadn’t. “I remonstrated with them. I pointed out that they should behave as befitted a guard company, especially when in a public place such as a tavern. It did little good. Shorn of their officers, they seemed to have no self-discipline.”

Dutiful’s brow furrowed. “But you never ordered them directly to cease their ill treatment of Thick?”

“I … did not.” He cleared his throat. “I was not sure I had that authority, sire.”

“If not you, then who?” the king said heavily. Lant did not reply. Dutiful sighed again. “You may go.”

Lant went, walking stiffly. Before he reached the door, I spoke. “If I may offer some words, my king?”

“You may.”

“I would point out that FitzVigilant arrived at Withywoods in poor condition owing to a severe beating he had taken in Buckkeep Town. And that he had been battered again, in both mind and body, when Withywoods was attacked.”

“His behavior is not being judged here, Prince FitzChivalry,” the king said, but as Lant reached the door, he shot me a look that was both ashamed and grateful. The guard on the door allowed him out. At a gesture from Dutiful, the guard followed Lant out the door and shut it behind him.

“Well. What shall we do with them?”

“Disband them. Flog those who mistreated Thick. Send them away in shame from Buck forever.” Elliania spoke dispassionately, and I had no doubt that in the Out Islands such would have been their fate.

“Not every man of them mistreated Thick. Find the ones who should bear the blame, and judge them individually.” Kettricken spoke quietly.

“But those who did not directly injure him did not oppose those who did!” Elliania objected.

The king shook his head. “There was no clear chain of command. Part of the fault must be borne by me. I should have directed FitzVigilant to take command of them and conveyed that to all.”

I spoke. “I doubt they would have accepted his authority. He has never soldiered. These men are the barrel-scrapings of the guard. Discarded by other guard units, they are the ones with the least self-discipline, ruled by the most ruthless and least honorable officers. At the least, disband them. Some will perhaps find places with other guard units. But keeping them as a company will only invite the worst from them.” I spoke for mercy in a calm voice. But privately, I planned to work a bit of the prince’s justice on the ones Thick had named to me.

Dutiful looked at me as if he could hear my thoughts. I hastily checked my walls. No, I was alone in my mind. He had simply come to know me too well. “Perhaps you would like to speak with each of them and see if any meet the standard to be included in your new guard company?”

“And then he smiled at me.” The irritation I felt with my king was not ameliorated by the smile that bloomed on the Fool’s face.

“He does know you well, to set you to this task. I’ll wager that in that barrel of rotten apples, you’ll find a few sound ones. And that when you give them a final chance, you’ll win their loyalty forever.”

“Not the sort of men I’d want at my back,” I objected. “Nor the sort of troops I want to hand to Foxglove and expect her to manage. I’d like my honor guard to actually be honorable men.”

“What of the ones who taunted Thick and backhanded your stable lad?”

I took breath to speak and then gasped in surprise as an arrow of Skill from Nettle penetrated my walls effortlessly. The Queen’s Garden. Tidings of Bee and Shine. Come now. Do not try to Skill back to me.

Hope flared in my heart. “I am summoned by Nettle to the Queen’s Garden,” I told him and stood. “They may have word of Bee’s whereabouts.” I was shocked to find that the sudden hope cut me as sharply as fear.

“Light! Air!” the crow demanded as I stood.

“I’ll return as soon as I can,” I offered. I ignored the Fool’s disappointed look, and did not even object as Motley hopped from the table and with a single flap of her wings gained my shoulder. In my chamber, I paused only to release the crow from my window before I hastened to find Nettle in the Queen’s Garden.

The Queen’s Garden was no traditional garden, but a tower top. I was panting when I reached it, having run through half of Buckkeep Castle to get there. In summer the pots there overflowed with greenery and fragrant blossoms. Some even held small fruit trees. Simple statuary and isolated benches completed Kettricken’s retreat from the petty annoyances of life at court. But as I emerged onto the tower top, winter greeted me. Snow mounded the planters, and the small trees had been swaddled against winter’s cruelest bite. I had thought to find only Nettle waiting for me. But Kettricken, warmly cloaked against winter’s chill, was present, as well as Dutiful, and Queen Elliania. It took me a moment to recognize Civil Bresinga. The boy had grown to a man. When he saw I recognized him, he bowed to me gravely but kept silent. I had wondered why they had chosen the Queen’s Garden as a meeting place. As Dutiful’s hound rolled a young lynx around in the snow, I understood. The two Wit-companions, obviously well acquainted with each other, suddenly raced off between the planters. I knew a moment of sharp envy.

“We’ve had word,” Dutiful greeted me.

He seemed so solemn that I wondered if bodies had been found. I left formality behind as I demanded of him, “What news?”

“It’s not certain,” Dutiful cautioned me, but Civil did not wait to speak.

“As my king requested, I sent out discreet queries, particularly to those of Old Blood who are bonded to birds of prey. I am sure you understand that even Witted partners pay small attention to things that don’t concern them. But two reports came back to me.

“Yesterday a messenger pigeon brought me a message from Carter Wick, an Old Blood bonded to a raven. The raven had found a company of folk camped in the forest. When she tried to pick over the bones of some rabbits they’d eaten, they threw sticks at her. She said that there were white horses there.”

“Where?”

He held up a cautioning finger. “Today, Rampion, a youngster whose Wit-bird is a merlin, sent word to us. The merlin complained of people ruining her hunting by stopping for the day in a clearing where she can usually take mice. The white horses had trampled the snow, giving the mice much better hiding places when they emerged from their burrows to seek seedheads still sticking up out of the snow.”

“Where?” I demanded again, my temper rising to match my urgency. Finally, finally, I could take some action. Why were all of them just standing about?

“Fitz!” Dutiful spoke sharply, as my king rather than my cousin. “Calm yourself. Wait until you have heard all. The Wit-beasts have given us two possible sightings, a day apart. Both were in Buck. One on this side of Chancy Bridge, and the other approaching the Yellow Hills. It puzzled me greatly, for they were moving slowly.”

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from demanding why I had not heard those reports as soon as they had come in. Dutiful was still speaking. “Now, I have reason to suspect that we know where they are bound. They can only be headed for the coast, and there are only three close ports where a ship of any size could dock. If there are forty of them, with horse, they will need a substantial vessel to depart.

“We have Skilled journeymen stationed at all the old lookout towers along the coast. I ordered two to ride together, one of them well dosed with elfbark, looking for anything unusual in Forge, Notquite Cove, and Salter’s Deep. At Salter’s Deep, we found what we were looking for. There is a ship tied up at the docks there, one that everyone overlooked except for my Skill-deadened emissary. Her partner could not see it at all. No one knew when it had arrived, what cargo it brought, or what it waited for. Some professed to know nothing of a ship tied up in full view; others could not be stirred to interest. Unfortunately, the local forces cannot capture what they cannot see. But I’ve already sent orders for the king’s guard stationed at Ringhill Tower to procure elfbark, dose the troop, travel to Salter’s Deep, and seize the ship.” He grinned triumphantly. “We have them. We’ve cut them off from escaping!”

My guts tightened. I have always preferred stealth to confrontation. What would happen when the kidnappers arrived at Salter’s Deep and found their escape route cut off? What would I do? “The Chalcedean mercenaries will be desperate. They may kill their captives, or threaten to, when they find they are discovered.”

“They may,” Dutiful conceded. “But look here.” He unrolled the map he’d carried tucked under his arm. Without words, Civil held it while Dutiful pointed at it. “The Ringhill Guard will be at Salter’s Deep in less than two days. The Chalcedeans are traveling slowly and stealthily. We think it will take them three or perhaps four days to reach Salter’s Deep. The outlying areas around Salter’s Deep are thickly forested. Mounted men might ride through, but the sleighs will not go there. They will have to take to the roads or abandon their sleighs. Once the Ringhill Guard has secured the ship, they will split their men. Some will block the road down to the harbor. The others will circle through the hills and come at them from behind.” His finger pinned a point where the road descended from the hills to the rocky shores of Salter’s Deep. “They’ll capture them and rescue Bee and Shine.”