Fools Fate by Robin Hobb
“And when you come back with the others, I'll finally get to meet you and see you as you are?”
“When I come back, it's very likely we'll meet. ”
“But how will I know you?”
“I'll tell you it's me. ”
“Good. ” Hesitantly she added, “I missed you while you were gone. I wanted to talk to you, when they told me my father was dead. But I couldn't find you. Where did you go?”
“Someone very important to me was in trouble. I went to help him. But now that's all settled, and we'll be coming home soon. ”
“Someone important to you? Will I meet him?”
“Of course. I think you'll like him. ”
“Who are you?”
I wasn't expecting the question just then. It took me off balance. I didn't want to tell her that I was FitzChivalry or Tom Badgerlock. I found myself saying, unplanned, “I'm someone who used to know your mother, before she met Burrich and married him. ”
Her reaction was not what I expected. “You're that old?” She was shocked.
“And I think I just got older,” I told her, laughing.
But she did not laugh with me. Her reply was stiff. “Then I suppose that when you return, you are more like to be my mother's friend than mine. ”
There was a complication I had not counted on. Jealousy rang green in her thoughts. I tried to stem it. “Nettle, I have long cared about both of you. And will continue to do so. ”
Even colder, she asked, “Will you try to take my father's place with her?”
I felt a blundering fool. I groped for an answer and then forced myself to face a truth I'd been avoiding. “Nettle. They were together for, what, sixteen years? They shared seven children. Do you think anyone could take his place with her?”
“Just so you understand that,” she replied, somewhat mollified. And then she dismissed me with “Now I must clear my dreams of you in case the Prince wishes to find me. Almost every night, he or Lord Chade has words I must bear to the Queen. I get little time to make my own dreams anymore. Good night, Shadow Wolf. ”
And then her fragrant garden and gentle twilight world faded away from me and I was left in the darkness. It took a short time for me to realize I was not asleep at all, but was lying on the floor of the Black Man's cave, staring into shadows dimly lit by the embers in his fireplace. I thought over what I had told Nettle, and decided that I had been foolish to let her know that I had once loved Molly. And how could I not have foreseen that Molly's children, including Nettle, might see me as an interloper in their household? I felt discouragement wash over me, and considered a total retreat from all of it.
But in the wake of that, I found iron resolution. No. I would not flee from the chaos I had made of my life. I loved Molly, still, and I thought it possible that she might still have some feelings for me. Even if she didn't, I had told Burrich that I would see to the well-being of his younger children. I would be needed there, even if I were not welcomed at first. I might fail; Molly might even drive me off. But I would not surrender before I had tried.
I was going home.
Chapter 32
THROUGH STONES
The Witness Stones have stood, time out of mind, through storm and earthquake, on Witness Hill near Buckkeep Castle. There is no record of who raised them. Some say that they are as old as the foundations of Buckkeep Castle itself. Others say they are older still. A number of traditions have grown up around them. It is a popular place for couples to pledge their wedding vows, for it is said that if someone speaks falsely before the stones, the gods themselves will punish them. It is also said that if men meet there, to decide the truth by contest, the stones will look down and see that the victory goes to the honorable man.
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There are similar standing stones throughout the Six Duchies and beyond. All seem to be carved of the same black stone. All seem to have been sturdily set to withstand all elements. Some are decorated with runes. Others seem to be plain, but a closer inspection usually reveals that runes once graced them, and have either worn away or been chiseled off them.
Although we have not been able to find mention of them in the Skill scrolls we have, they were almost certainly used by the Elderlings as a method for swift transit from one place to another. Herewith, I have set out a map of the known Skill-pillars, as I shall call them. On this map, I have clearly marked a legend that shows which runes apply to which locations. Although some of the Skill-pillars may appear to be unmarked, an experienced Skill-user can still use them for transit. It is not suggested that younger users of the Skill be allowed to travel through the stones alone. Indeed, they should always be accompanied by an experienced user, and should only use the stones for travel as an absolute necessity. It can be a taxing experience for the novice user, leading to exhaustion or, in the case of forced overuse, madness.
— CHADE FALLSTAR'S “ON SKILL-PILLARS”
The Fool's fragile recovery collapsed in the early hours. I awoke in darkness to the sounds of him tossing and struggling in his sleep. When I tried to wake him, his face was warm and I could not break him from his nightmares. I sat beside him, holding his hand and talking to him softly, easing him into quieter dreams. I was uncomfortably aware that the Black Man had awakened. He lay on his bed and silently watched me with the Fool. I could not see his eyes, but I felt them on me. He measured us and I did not know why.
Toward dawn, I felt Chade's press against my mind. Reluctantly I admitted him. You can go home now. This will be your tale. The Prince and I sent you home early with Thick, on a trading vessel, as Thick was miserable here and we wished you to bear tidings to the Queen immediately. I think that will be believable; just avoid giving any details. I shall be so glad to have you in place there. Nettle is a fine girl, but we have had to be very circumspect in our reports through her, and very careful not to task her beyond her abilities. It is imperative I have someone in place who can be privy to the sort of information that must be conveyed to the Queen.
I cannot go now, Chade. The Fool has fallen ill. He cannot travel.
Chade was silent for a few moments. Then, But from what you said, you would not have to carry him far. Just to the Skill-pillar, and then whisk him home, to healers and warmth and safety.
I wish it were that simple. The path to the pillar is very treacherous and cold. And the journey through the Skill-pillar is tasking for him. I dare not risk him. He has already been through too much.
I see. I felt Chade weighing my words. Then, Do you think he will be better a day from now? I could give you another day.
I made my thoughts firm. I do not know. But I will take as many days as he needs, Chade. I will not risk him.
Very well. The thought oozed annoyance but also acceptance. If you must.
Indeed, I must, I replied firmly. We will travel when the Fool is stronger. Not before.
Dawn found me hollow with worry. Well I knew that many men who died from battle wounds died days after the battle, from fevers and flux and infection. The journey here had strained his healing and undone many days of rest. The Fool slept heavily, far past midday, and then woke, gummy-eyed and haggard, to drink cup after cup of water. Prilkop insisted that we move him from the floor to his bed. The Fool made the short staggering walk between us, then folded onto the Black Man's bed as if he were exhausted, and almost immediately sank down into sleep. His skin was warm beneath my touch.
“Perhaps it's just one of his changing times,” I told Prilkop. “So I hope. It would be better than infection. He will be feverish and weak for several days, and then shed a layer of skin as if he'd been burned. Underneath, his new skin will be darker. If that is what this is, there's little we can do for him now except keep him comfortable and wait. ”
Prilkop touched both his cheeks with a gesture, and then smiled at me, saying, “This I suspected. To some of us, it happens. The discomfort passes. ” Then, looking down at the
A question came to me and I asked it without pausing to wonder if it were impolite. “Why did you change? Why is the Fool changing? The Pale Woman remained white. ”
He lifted his hands, expressing bafflement. “On this, I have thought many times. Perhaps, as we cause change, we change. Other prophets who remain white often speak much, but do little. He and I, in our youths, much change we foretold. Then, out we went and we made changes. And, perhaps, we also changed ourselves. ”
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“But the Pale Woman also did things to try to make changes. ”
He smiled, grimly satisfied. “She tried. She failed. We prevailed. We changed. ” Then he tilted his head to one side. “Perhaps. So this old man thinks. ” Prilkop glanced over at the sleeping Fool and nodded to himself. “Rest is what he needs. Sleep, and good food. And quiet. You and Thick, go fishing. Fresh fish would be good for him. ”
I shook my head. “I don't want to leave him when he's like this. ”
Prilkop put a gentle hand on my shoulder. “You make him restless. He feels your worry. To let him rest, you away go. ”
Thick spoke up from his corner by the hearth. “We should go home. I want to go home. ”
The Fool startled me when he croaked my name. “Fitz. ”
I was instantly at his side with water. He did not want to drink it, but I was insistent. When he turned his face from the cup, I took it away. “Was there something else you wanted?”
His eyes were unnaturally bright with fever. “Yes. I want you to go home. ”
“He doesn't know what he's saying,” I told Prilkop. “I couldn't take him like this. ”
The Fool drew a deep breath. He spoke with an effort. “Yes. I do. Know what I'm saying. Take Thick. Go home. Leave me here. ” He coughed and then motioned for more water. He drank it in sips, and then pulled in another deep breath. I let him lie back in his blankets.
“I won't leave you like this,” I promised him. “I'll take as much time as we need here. Don't worry about anything. I'll be right here. ”
“No. ” He seemed irritable, in that weary way the sick do. “Listen to me. I need to stay. Here. For a time. With Prilkop. I need to understand . . . when I am, where I am . . . I need to . . . Fitz, he can help me. You know I will not die of this. It is only my changing time. But what I need to learn, I must learn alone. Be alone, for a time. I need to think, alone. You understand. I know you do. I was you. ” He lifted thinning fingers to rub at his face and cheeks. The dry skin rippled and rolled under his fingers, flaking away from newer, darker skin beneath. He rolled his eyes to Prilkop. “He should go,” he said, as if Prilkop could force me. “He is needed at home. And he needs to be home. ”
I sat down on the floor by the bed. I did understand. I remembered the long days of my recovery, after my time in Regal's dungeon. I recalled the uncertainty I had felt. Torture shames a man. To break and scream, to beg, to make promises . . . unless a man has endured that, perhaps he cannot forgive it in another. The Fool needed time alone, to reassess how he saw himself. I had not wanted Burrich to ask a thousand questions of me; I had not even wanted him to be solicitous and kind. On some instinctive level, he had known that, and had allowed me my days of sitting and staring, unspeaking, over the meadows and hills. It had been difficult to admit I was a human and not a wolf: it had been harder to admit I was still myself.
The Fool extended a thin hand from under his blankets. He patted my shoulder awkwardly, and then ran his fingers down my bearded cheek. “Go home. And shave while you're there. ” He managed a faint smile. Then, “Let me rest, Fitz. Just let me rest. ”
“Very well. ” I tried not to feel that he dismissed me. I turned to Thick. “I'll take you home, then. Dress warmly, but you needn't pack anything. Before the night is over, we'll be in Buckkeep. ”
“And warm again?” Thick pressed me. “And with good things to eat? Fresh bread and butter, milk and apples, sweet cakes and raisins? Cheese and bacon? Tonight?”
“I'll do my best. You get ready. And tell Chade for me that we're going home tonight. I'll tell the guard at the gate that we came home early, on the first boat. Because you were cold. ”
“I am cold,” he agreed heartily. “But no boats. You promised. ”
I hadn't but I nodded anyway. “No boats. Get ready, Thick. ” I turned back to the Fool. He had closed his eyes again. I spoke softly. “So. You get your way. As you always seem to. I'll take Thick home. I will be gone for a day. At most, two days. But then I'll come back, and I'll bring back food and wine with me. What would you like? What could you eat?”
“Have you any apricots?” the Fool asked me in a wavering voice. Plainly he had not grasped the whole of what I had told him.
“I'll try to bring you some,” I said, doubting I could but loath to tell him so. I smoothed his hair back from his warm face. His hair felt stiff and dry. I looked at Prilkop. He nodded slowly to my silent plea. Before I left, I tucked the blankets up over his shoulders. Then I stooped, and despite his closed eyes, I pressed my brow to his. “I'm coming back soon,” I vowed. He made no response and perhaps he already slept. I left him there.
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Prilkop too made his farewells to us within the cave. “Take care of him,” I told the Black Man. “I'll be back tomorrow. Make sure he eats. ”
He shook his head to my words. “Not that soon,” he cautioned me. “Already, you have used the portals too many times, too close together. ” He made a motion as if he dragged something out of his chest. “It takes from you, and if you do not have enough left for yourself, it can keep you. ”
He peered into my eyes, as if trying to be sure I had understood him. I hadn't, but I nodded and assured him, “I'll be careful. ”
“Farewell, Thick man. Farewell, Fool's Changer. ” Then, with a tip of his head toward the Fool, he added quietly, “I will watch over him. More than that, none of us can do. ” And then, as if embarrassed to ask, he said, “The small man said cheese?”
“Cheese. Yes. I will bring you cheese. And tea, and spices and fruit. As much as I can carry. ”
“When it is safe for you to come again, that would be nice. ” He was beaming as we thanked him again for all he had done for us, and then left. The wind had come up and the night was chill. Thick had stubbornly refused to abandon his pack, clinging to every single possession in it, so he came laden behind me as we edged up the steep and narrow path to the crack in the rock face. The trickle of moisture had iced it narrow again, and again I had to draw my sword and clash ice away in the darkness. Thick whimpered at the dark and the wind and kept insisting that he wanted to go home, not seeming to connect that I must first open the way so we could.
I was finally able to squeeze through. I pulled Thick after me, though he wedged there for a moment. He followed me in, going slower and slower the closer we came to the unnatural light. “I don't like this,” he warned me. “I don't think this is the way home. This is going in a rock. We should go back. ”
“No, Thick, it's all right. It's just an old magic. We'll be fine. Just follow me. ”
“You had better be right!” he warned me. He followed me, looking all around himself at every step. The deeper we went, the more cautious he became. When we reached the first Elderling carvings, he gasped and stepped back. “The dragon dreams. Those were in the dragon dreams!” he exclaimed. Then, abruptly, as if I had been tricking him, “Oh, I have been here before. Now I know. But why is it so cold? It didn't used to be so cold. ”
“Because we are under ice. That makes it cold. Come on, now. Stop walking so slowly. ”
“Not this cold,” he replied cryptically, and followed me again, but no faster than he had before. I thought I had fixed the path in my mind. Despite that, I turned wrong twice. Each time I had to retrace my steps, Thick became more doubtful
“Don't touch anything,” I warned him. I studied the map and the rune by the four tiny gems near Buckkeep. Those gems, I was convinced, represented the Witness Stones. For generations, they had been regarded as a place of power and truth, a gateway to the gods. Now I suspected I knew the origin of that legend. I fixed the rune carefully in my mind. “Come, Thick,” I told him. “It's time to go home. ”
He made no reply, and even when I touched his shoulder, he looked up at me slowly. He had sunk down to sit on the floor. With one hand, he had rubbed the dusty tiles clean to reveal a piece of a pastoral scene. His face had an almost dazed expression. “They liked it here,” he said softly. “They played a lot of music. ”
“Put your walls up, Thick,” I bade him, but did not feel that he obeyed me. I took his hand and held it firmly in mine. I wasn't sure he was listening, but as I led him up the stairs to the pillar room, I explained to him several times that we would hold tight to each other and walk through the pillar and be home. His breathing had become deep and even as if he slept heavily. Uneasily I wondered if the city itself were affecting him.
I did not give myself time to wonder if the ancient and worn Witness Stones would still function as Skill-pillars. The Fool had used one, hadn't he, and his Skill was much less than mine. I drew a deep breath, gave Thick's hand a small shake in an attempt to win his attention, and then stepped determinedly into the pillar, drawing him behind me.
Again there was that breathlessly long pause in my being, almost familiar now. There seemed to pass a star-speckled blackness of indeterminate length and then I stepped out onto the grassy sward of the hillside near Buckkeep. Thick was still with me. I felt a moment's giddiness, and Thick stumbled past me and sat down flat on the turf. The warmth of summer touched our skins and the smells of a summer night filled my nostrils. I stood still, letting my eyes adjust. The four Witness Stones loomed behind me, pointing at the night sky. I drew a deep breath of the warm air. I smelled sheep pastured nearby, and the more distant smell of the sea. We were home.
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I went to Thick and put a hand on his shoulder. “You're all right,” I told him. “We're home. I told you. Just like stepping through a door. ” Then a wave of dizziness swept through me and I pitched forward onto my face. For a little time I lay there, trying not to retch.