Fool’s Assassin

“How often did I watch the trap close around you? Did it truly have to be so awful for you? Did I try hard enough to find another path through time? Or did I just use you?”

He ran out of breath. I was silent. He’d used me. He’d admitted it to me, more than once. Could he have changed the path of my life? I knew that often enough a word or two from him had made me reconsider my actions. I remembered well how he had cautioned me about Galen and even suggested that I turn aside from my Skill-straining. What if I had? There would never have been that beating that near-blinded me and left me with years of pounding headaches. But when would I have learned the Skill? Did he know such things? Did he know where every untaken path in my life would have led?

He gave a little gasp. “When my turn for torture came, for pain? How could I call for you to save me from it when I had not rescued you or turned you aside from it?” That speech was shattered by a series of coughs as feeble as if a bird choked. I lifted my hand from his chest. I could not bear to feel how he struggled to get his breath.

“You … never need to feel that way, Fool. Never. I never saw it that way.”

On an indrawn gasp. “I did. In the end.” Another gasp. “When I learned for myself what I’d asked of you. How a minute of designed pain becomes an eternity.” He coughed again. I bent my face close to his and spoke very softly.

“It was long ago. And it’s far too late for you to apologize, for any forgiveness was given years ago. Not that I thought there was something I needed to forgive. Now stop talking. Conserve your strength. You’ll need it for our journey.”

Did he have enough stamina to survive a trip through a Skill-pillar? Could I take him through, unlinked to me by the Skill? But I had been able to reach into his body. Surely that meant something, that there was still some tie between us. Useless to wonder. I knew he would not survive unless I got him to Buckkeep that night. And so I would take the chance. We’d go through the pillars together, and if—

Bee spoke on my other side. Her voice was little more than a whisper. “You’re going away?”

“For a little while. To take my friend to a healer.” What if I didn’t come back? What if neither of us survived, what would happen to her then? I couldn’t think about that, and I couldn’t not think about it. I still knew I must try. I felt no compunction at risking my life for the Fool. But her future? I lifted my voice slightly. “Shun and FitzVigilant will take you back to Withywoods and look after you until I come home.”

Her silence was eloquent. I took her little hand in mine and said quietly, “I promise I will come back as soon as ever I can.” Liar. Liar. Liar. A promise I had no right to make when I did not know if I would survive the trip.

“It would be very useful for Lady Shun and me to know exactly what is going on. Who is this beggar, why did you attack him, where are we going now, and why are you leaving Bee in our care with absolutely no warning or preparation?” FitzVigilant didn’t try to suppress the edge of anger in his voice.

I supposed he had a right to his annoyance. I tried to temper my reply with patience, not to provoke him to any greater anger than he was already feeling. I had to leave my daughter in his care. At his mercy. It took me a moment to sort what I would share.

“He’s an old friend. I mistook his actions, didn’t recognize him, and attacked him. He needs healing, far more healing than we can do at Withywoods. I’m sure you’ve heard of the magic of the Skill. We intend to use the Skill to travel through a stone pillar to Buckkeep Castle. There my old friend can get the healing he needs. I must go with him. I hope I will not be gone more than a day or two.”

Neither one of them said anything. I chewed my pride and swallowed it. I would have to ask this of him, at least. I looked at my Bee. For her, I would do anything. I spoke more softly. “In the tavern I told you that I doubted your abilities, not only to teach but to protect my child. Fate has given you a chance to prove me wrong. Do this, and do it well, and I will reconsider my opinion of you. I expect you to step up and assume the responsibility I’m giving you. Watch over my child.” I hoped he would find the meaning in my words that I dared not say aloud. Guard her with your life.

Shun spoke abruptly, with the confidence born of supreme ignorance. “The Skill-magic only belongs to the royal Farseer line. How can you possibly use—”