Fool’s Quest

“What?” he demanded in a soft voice.

I’d been staring at him as I mused. “I’m glad of you. That’s all. In this hard time, I’m glad of you. That we’ll ride together.”

He gave me an unreadable glance. Even more softly, he said, “Thank you, my boy.”

“A question?”

“Why bother asking me that when you know you’ll ask it anyway?”

“The boy Ash. Your apprentice. Is he yours, too?”

“My son, you mean? No. I’ve only the two, Lant and Shine.” In a lowered voice, he added, “I hope I still have two.”

“He’s a fine apprentice.”

“I know. He’ll stay with me, that one. He’s got the edge.” He glanced at me. “Your boy. That Perseverance. He’s a good one. Keep him. When you were out of the room, I asked him, ‘If all the others were summoned to come to the front of the manor and assembled, why weren’t you?’ And he said, ‘I felt that I wanted to go there and be with the others, but I knew my duty was to guard Bee. So I didn’t go.’ He resisted what I suspect was a strong Skill-suggestion to do his best to protect your daughter.”

I nodded, and wondered if a stable boy had known his duty better than I had known mine.

A silence fell between us. Oh, Bee, where are you? Do you know I’m coming after you? How could she? Why would she think I’d bother coming for her when I’d abandoned her before? I fenced the question with stone. Focus on finding her and bringing her home. Don’t let your agony cloud your thoughts.

We heard hoofbeats behind us, and I turned in my saddle. Four of the Rousters were catching up with us. “A message from Withywoods?” I hazarded.

But they came on at a gallop, and then pulled their horses in hard when they were alongside their captain. One of them, a youngster with orange hair and freckles, greeted his captain with a grin. “Sir, it’s boring as old maids at tea back there. Mind if we ride along?”

Lieutenant Crafty laughed aloud and leaned over to clasp wrists with his man as he shot a glance at his captain. “I told you we had a lively one when we found him, sir! And you’ve brought a few like-minded friends, I see. Excellent.”

Their captain was not as merry about it. “Well. If you must ride along, form up and try to look like you’ve a bit of discipline.”

“Sir!” the redhead agreed with a shout, and in a moment Chade and I were in the center of an honor guard. I sat straighter on the roan, suddenly uncomfortable with such a status. I felt a tendril of Wit-quest from the mare. Were we safe? We were fine, I assured her, and scowled to myself. She was becoming too attuned to me. Chade glanced over at me and misinterpreted my expression.

Become accustomed to it, Prince FitzChivalry. The tone of his Skilling was wry.

They know me only as Badgerlock, I objected.

I doubt that. Gossip flies swiftly. But even if they name you Badgerlock now, that will change when they return to Buckkeep Castle. So conduct yourself as a prince.

It was good advice and hard to follow. I was not accustomed to being at the center of anything. Assassins lurk at the edges, looking like no one in particular.

And you will learn now to do that while being at the center of scrutiny, Chade suggested.

We rode on, not speaking aloud. Out of the forest and on the open road, the day was blue and white. Farmsteads set in their fields plumed smoke from their chimneys. The road was little-traveled on this fine cold day, and when we reached the turn for Gallows Hill, the only tracks were the soft dimples from Chade, Thick, and Nettle’s journeyman when they had arrived the day before. We followed them.

“What’s up this trail?” the redhead asked curiously. He looked to me for an answer.

“Not much of anything. The old gallows for Withy and Oaksbywater. And a standing stone.”

“Then no one comes up here much?”

“True,” I affirmed. “And I am glad of it.”

We rode a bit farther in silence.

“As good a place as any, then,” the lad said.