Fool's Assassin - Страница 128

128

Kettricken did not argue, or ask him if he could bathe himself. She simply asked, “Where would you be? Lord Golden’s old chambers? Fitz’s childhood bedroom? Chade’s old lair?”

“Are all those rooms empty?” I asked, surprised.

She looked at me levelly. “For him, other people can be moved.” She rested a gentle hand on his shoulder. “He got me to the Mountains. Alive. I will never forget that.”

He lifted a crooked hand to cover hers. “I will choose discretion. As I seldom have before. I would have quiet to recover, if I may. In Chade’s den. And be known neither as Lord Golden, nor as Fool.” He turned his hazed eyes and asked, “Do I smell food?”

He did. The apprentice healer was back, a rag wrapped around the bale of a lidded pot. The lid jiggled as she walked, letting brief wafts of beefy aroma fill the room. A serving boy came behind with bowls, spoons, and a basket of bread rolls. She stopped at Riddle’s bed to serve him, and I was relieved to see him recovered enough to be propped up in bed and offered hot food. He looked past Nettle, met my gaze, and gave me a crooked smile. Undeserved forgiveness. Friendship defined. I slowly nodded to him, trusting him to understand.

I knew it would be harder to win Nettle’s pardon.

The apprentice girl came to fill a bowl for the Fool. “Can you sit up to eat?” I asked him.

“Probably the only thing that could make me try,” he wheezed. As Kettricken and I lifted him and moved pillows to cushion him upright, he added, “I’m tougher than you think, Fitz. Dying, yes. But I’ll fight it off as long as I can.”

I did not reply to that until the apprentice and her assistant had finished serving the food. As they moved away, I leaned closer and suggested, “Eat as much as you can. The more strength you gain and the quicker you do it, the sooner we can attempt a Skill-healing for you. If you wish it.”

Kettricken held the spoon to his lips. He tasted it, sucked the broth in noisily, near-moaned with pleasure, and then begged, “Too slow. Let me drink from the bowl. I am so hungry.”

“It’s hot,” she warned him, but held the bowl to his mouth. His claw-like hands guided hers and he slurped the scalding soup from the edge of the bowl, trembling with his need to get nourishment inside him.

“It’s him,” Chade said. I looked up to see him standing at the foot of the Fool’s bed.

“It is,” I confirmed.

He nodded, brows drawn. “Riddle managed a partial report before Nettle chased me off. He’ll be all right, Fitz, small thanks to you. This is an example of where your ignorance can hurt us. If you had returned to Buckkeep to study with the rest of the King’s Own Coterie, you would have had better control of your Skill-use of him.”

It was the last thing I wished to discuss just then. “You’re right,” I said, and in his shocked silence that followed my capitulation, I added, “The Fool would like to be lodged in our old study room. Can that be arranged? A fire built, clean linens, a fresh robe, a warm bath, and simple, hot food?”

He did not flinch at my list. “And salves. And herbs for restorative teas. Give me a bit of time. I’ve an evening of diplomacy and negotiation to dance through yet. And I must ask Kettricken to return with me to that. When I send a page, carry him up to Lady Thyme’s old room, via the servants’ stair. You’ll find the wardrobe there has a false back now. Enter there. I’m afraid I must return to the welcoming festivities right away. But I’ll see you either very late tonight or very early tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” I said. He nodded gravely.

Even in my gratitude, I knew that there would eventually be a price for Chade’s favors. There always was.

Kettricken rose with a rustling of skirts. “I, too, must return to the feasting hall.” I turned my head and for the first time that night, I really looked at her. She was dressed in shades of blue silk, with white lace drapery over her kirtle and skirts. Her earrings were blue and silver, and the silver coronet she wore include a network of pale topazes over her brow. My astonishment must have shown, for she smiled deprecatingly. “They are our trading partners; they are gratified to see me wearing the products of that trade, and the compliment to them makes my King’s negotiations with them easier.” She smiled as she added, “And I assure you, Fitz, my adornments are simple compared with what our young Queen wears tonight!”

I smiled at her. “I know you favor simpler garb, but in truth, its beauty does you great justice.”

The Fool spoke softly. “Would that I could see you.” He clutched the empty soup bowl. Without a word, Kettricken wiped broth from the corner of his mouth.

I wanted to tell him that we would heal him and he would see again. In truth, I was wishing that I had taken Chade up on his repeated offers of learning more about the Skill. I looked at the Fool and wondered if we could straighten bones healed crooked, return light to his eyes, and lift the gray pallor from his skin. How much of his health could we restore?

“I do wish it,” he said suddenly. “The Skill-healing. I do not desire it. I dread it. But I wish for it to be done. As quickly as possible.”

I spoke the truth reluctantly. “Right now, we would be as likely to kill you as heal you. There is so much … damage. And you are weakened by all that has been done to you. Despite the strength I stole for you.” Kettricken was looking at me, the question in her eyes. It was time to tell them both I didn’t know the answer. “I do not know how much the Skill can restore you. It is a magic that ultimately obeys your body. It can prompt your body to repair what is wrong, much faster than your body would do if left alone. But things that your body has already repaired, a broken bone for example—well, I do not know if it will straighten an old break.”

Kettricken spoke quietly. “When the coterie healed you, I understood that many old hurts were healed as well. Scars vanished.”

I didn’t want to remind her that such an unrestrained healing had nearly killed me. “I think we will have to take this in stages. And I don’t want the Fool to lift his hopes too high.”

“I need to see,” he said suddenly. “Above all else, I need to see, Fitz.”

“I can’t promise you that,” I said.

Kettricken stepped back from the bed. Her eyes were bright with tears but her voice was steady as she said, “I fear I must return to the trade negotiations.” She glanced at the entrance to the infirmary. Chade awaited her there.

“I thought it was a feast, with minstrels singing, and then dancing?”

“So it might appear, but it is all a negotiation. And tonight, I am still the Queen of the Mountain Kingdom and hence a player in all the Six Duchies wishes to win. Fool, I cannot tell you how I feel. Full of joy to see you again, and full of sorrow to see all that has befallen you.”

He smiled, stretching his cracked lips. “I am much the same, my Queen.” He pursed his smile ruefully and added, “Except for the seeing part.”

It wrung a laugh from the Queen that was half-sob. “I will return as soon as I may.”

“But not tonight,” he told her gently. “Already I am so weary I can scarce keep my eyes open. But soon, my Queen. Soon, if you please.”

She dropped him a curtsy, then fled in a rustling of long skirts and tapping heels. I watched her go.

“She has changed much, and not at all,” he observed.

“You sound much better.”

“Food. A warm bed. A clean face and hands. The company of friends. These things heal much.” He yawned suddenly, and then added with trepidation, “And Riddle’s strength. It is a peculiar thing, this borrowing of strength, Fitz. Not that different from how I felt when you put your own life back into me. It is a buzzing, restless energy inside me, a life borrowed rather than earned. My heart does not like it, but my body yearns for more of it. If it were a cup before me, I do not think I could resist the desire to drain it dry.” He took a slow breath and was quiet. But I could almost sense how he savored the sensation of extra life flowing through him. I recalled the battle madness that used to come on me, and how I would find myself fighting on, savagely and joyously, spending effort long after I knew my body was exhausted. It had been exhilarating. And the collapse that followed had been complete. That false strength, once burned, demanded repayment. I knew dread.

The Fool spoke again. “Still, I was not lying. Much as I long for a warm bath, I do not think I can remain awake much longer. I cannot recall the last time I was so warm, or my belly so full.”

“Perhaps I should take you up to Lady Thyme’s chamber, then.”

“You’ll carry me?”

“I have before. You weigh hardly anything and it seems the easiest thing to do.”

He was silent for a time. Then he said, “I think I can walk. At least part of the way.”

It puzzled me, but I didn’t argue with him. Almost as if our words had summoned him, a page entered the infirmary. He had flakes of snow still on his hair and shoulders, and carried a lantern. He looked around and then called, “Tom Badgerlock? I’ve come to fetch Tom Badgerlock.”

“I’m here,” I told him. As I turned to him, Nettle suddenly left Riddle’s bedside. She gripped my sleeve and pulled me to one side. She looked up at me, her face so like her mother’s in that moment that I felt Molly had returned from the grave to reproach me. “He says I’m not to hold you accountable, that he volunteered.”

128