Fool's Quest - Страница 93

• Предыдущая
• 93 / 159
• Следующая

93

He lowered his feet. “I must. When I think it is too hard, I think of our daughter. And I find determination.”

I had been moving about my task. Those words halted me in place.

“What are you doing?” he asked me.

“Chade’s shelf of herbs and elixirs is a bit untidy. I need to remind Ash to be more careful.” A very unfair lie. I was able to find everything I needed immediately. Distract him. “I’m glad of your dreams. I just wanted you to know that you might not see me tonight.”

The smile twisted. “Even if you were here, I wouldn’t see you,” he reminded me.

I groaned, he laughed at me, and I left.

My saddle-pack was not heavy. Carris seed and elfbark weigh little. Some carryme, willowbark, valerian. I prayed Bee would not need it. I chose a warmer cloak. I exchanged the weighted gloves for warmer ones. A good wool scarf around my throat. The change of clothing for Bee. Only the most basic supplies. Done.

I shut my door and turned as Lant reached the top of the stairs and bolted toward me. Damn my luck.

“Fitz!” he cried and halted a few steps from me, clutching at his half-healed wound.

“Catch your breath,” I suggested to him. In a lower voice, I added, “And speak softly.”

He was panting. “Yes,” he agreed. He put his hand out and leaned his weight on the wall. “I went to Chade. There were two healers in his room. He told me to come to you.”

I had no time to be oblique. I spoke quietly. “We’ve had word of where we might find the mercenaries who took Shine and Bee. The Ringhill Guard will ambush and surround them. Tomorrow at first light my guard rides out to Salter’s Deep. They will probably miss the Ringhill Guard recapturing them, but at least they can be there to lend some comfort.”

“Shine,” he said and a conflict of emotions trampled his face. “I thought … But of course that is her name. And of course I want to ride with you.”

“Lord Chade thought you might. But are you sure you’re ready for a long ride like that? If you cannot keep up—”

“You’ll leave me. I know. Of course you must! No, I’ll be ready to ride with you at first light.”

“Fine. I’ll see you then. I’ve things to prepare.” I walked away, hoping he would cling to the wall a bit longer. Instead he gave a groan and a grunt as he stood almost straight and then followed me. He walked beside me in silence for a time. Just as it began to grow awkward, he spoke.

“I didn’t know she was my sister.”

Sweet Eda, please don’t let him confide in me! “Neither did I, Lant. I had not even realized you were my cousin.”

“Cousin,” he said softly as if that had never occurred to him. Then he said slowly, “It will be awkward for us when first we meet again …”

The least of my worries. “I will speak to her first, if there is privacy to do so. But if not, you will have to handle it discreetly. Especially if there are others within earshot.”

“I have no wish to hurt her.”

I sighed. “Lant, I know this is foremost in your thoughts. But in mine is the fear that she may already be grievously hurt. Or that the Ringhill Guard will not prevail, or that the mercenaries will either harm, kill, or use their captives as bargaining chips. Those are the things I must give my thoughts to.”

As I spoke his face grew paler. So gently reared was this young man. I knew with sudden certainty that I should not let him go with me into any kind of an armed encounter, let alone what might be the end of a pitched battle between the Ringhill Guard and the Chalcedean mercenaries. I needed all my attention on Bee, not worrying that I might have to protect Lant. I stopped walking and he was grateful. “Are you sure you are well enough recovered from your injuries to ride with us? Or swing a sword?”

“I must go,” he said. He knew my thoughts. Pride stiffened his spine. “I must go, and if I fail, then you must leave me. But I must try. I didn’t protect Shun—I mean, Shine—at Withywoods. I cannot fail her now.”

I gritted my teeth together and nodded. He hadn’t even mentioned Bee. My anger was pointless: He was blind where my child was concerned. I reminded myself that he was Chade’s son and Nettle thought well of him. I forced myself to recall how stupid Hap had been at his age. Then I admitted to myself that I’d been even more obstinate and foolish than either of them. I put my hand on his shoulder. “Lant. Perhaps for her sake, and yours, you should not be there. Go to the healer and get a fresh dressing on that shoulder. Rest. Look after Chade for me.”

I patted his shoulder and walked away. As I went, I heard him say to the air, “Because that is what you would do? I doubt it.”

The Rousters had assembled in the practice yard. It was on my way to the stables. When I went to meet them, Foxglove walked at my side. Sergeant Goodhand hadn’t come. I doubted we’d see him again. Twenty-one of the Rousters had seen fit to form up. I recognized some of them from the Withywoods contingent; others were new to me. I introduced Foxglove as their new commander, and summoned the three most senior in their ranks to come forward. Their length of service had possibly contributed to their battered appearance, but the missing teeth and crumpled ears spoke to me more of brawling than combat. It did not matter. They were what I had. Foxglove took their names and assigned them rank. None of them looked pleased but they did not argue with her. They followed her as she walked down the line of Rousters and immediately dismissed four of them. I did not challenge her decision.

After that, I let Foxglove give them their orders. They were to be mounted and ready at dawn, with four days’ dry rations. They were to be sober enough to ride and dressed for winter travel, with weapons for close-quarters combat. At that, I saw interest kindle in their eyes, but we gave them no more information. I delivered my own message to them. “King Dutiful gave you into my hands. Those of you who acquit yourselves well in the next ten days will remain as part of my guard, but not in the Rouster colors. The Rousters are to be disbanded. Those of you who prove cowardly, lazy, or simply stupid will be dismissed. That’s all I have to say to you.” Foxglove released them and we watched them slouch away.

“They hate you right now,” she observed.

“I don’t care.”

“You’ll care if you get an arrow in the back.”

A sour smile twisted my mouth. “You think I’d be leading the charge?” I considered my next words carefully. “Leave at dawn. I’ll catch up with you. And don’t put anyone wearing my Bastard’s badge in the way of an arrow in the back. Let the Rousters go in first.”

“The Charging Bucks Guard will be ready,” she promised, and I nodded at her correction. She squinted at me, the lines in her brow getting deeper. “What are you planning, Fitz?”

“I’m planning to take my daughter back.”

I turned and left her scowling after me.

In the stables, I saddled the roan. I secured my saddle-pack. I found I was humming, exhilarated. So good to be doing something, to have stopped waiting. I filled a grain bag for the roan and added it to my supplies. I was just finishing when Perseverance came around the corner.

“I’m supposed to do that for you!” he exclaimed indignantly.

I smiled at him. “Would you like it if another man saddled your horse for you?”

His indignation deepened. “Of course not!”

“There you have it,” I said, and laughed. He looked startled. I suppose he’d never heard me laugh before.

“What are you doing?” he demanded.

“Going out for a long ride. I grew up here, but it has been a long time since I rode through these hills. I might be late coming back. There’s an inn down near the river that I used to frequent when I was a young man. I’ve a mind to dine there tonight.”

“With a battle-axe?”

“Oh. That. I’m dropping it off for Foxglove with a smith she likes. She wants a longer haft put on it.”

There was a heartbeat of silence. I lifted one brow at him. He quailed.

“Very well, sir. Do you wish me to ride along?”

“No, no. There’s no need for that.”

In a much softer voice he asked me, “Has there been any news of Bee, sir? Lady Bee?”

I took a breath. Not a lie. “We’ve had all manner of folk out looking.” He nodded then opened the stall door for me, and I led the roan out. Excitement shivered over her as if she shook a fly from her withers.

Me, too, I told her. Me, too.

Chapter Twenty-Three
Bonds and Ties

...

I believe this is the oldest scroll in the Skill-library and I have subjected it to twelve different translations by my students and scholars. Two of the scholars were Jamaillian priests of Sa. Two others were Outislander sages. Of the twelve translators, two suggested the scroll was a clever forgery, created to be sold.

If we accept the original scroll as authentic, then it is most likely a translation from a much older source, possibly one that was perhaps written by the creators of the Skill-pillars.

I believe this scroll was intact before Regal the Pretender sold it away during the Red-Ship Wars. The loss of this information is both insurmountable and infuriating, even at this late date. What follows is my best interpretation of what remains of the scroll. I discovered it, scorched and rotting, on the floors of a hall in Aslevjal. The burning meant that only the beginning and end of the loosely rolled scroll remained readable. From the account of FitzChivalry Farseer, the burning may have been the last vengeful act of the Pale Woman. This was a tremendous loss for us. What little remains is enough to tell us that.