Fool’s Assassin

Again I saw Lady Shun and FitzVigilant exchange a look of mutual offense at being excluded from our cryptic exchange. I cared not at all. The track up to Gallows Hill was not well tended. The wagon jounced and slid in the ruts and I gritted my teeth at the pain it must cause the Fool. As soon as the horses halted, I was out of the wagon. I staggered sideways, the world spun, and then I found my balance. I leaned on the wagon and pointed up at FitzVigilant. “Take Bee home. And I am counting on you that she will be safe and content in my absence. Are we clear?” Even as he nodded, I knew this was not the best way to handle the man, let alone Shun. They would both be resentful and confused. It could not be helped. There was no time to do better.

I took both Bee’s hands in mine. With her sitting on the open tail of the wagon, we were nearly on a level. She looked up at me, her fair skin whiter in contrast with the gray-and-red shawl that now covered most of her golden hair. I spoke softly, only to her. “Listen to me. Mind FitzVigilant, and if you have any needs, make them known to him, or Lady Shun, or Revel. I am sorry, so sorry, that our day was disrupted. When I return, I promise that we will have a whole day, all to ourselves, and that things will come out well. Can you trust me for that?”

She looked up at me. Her gaze now was tranquil and accepting, almost lethargic. “I think I will go first to Steward Revel. He knows me best. And I know that you will try your best to keep your promise,” she said softly. “I see that.”

“I’m glad that you do.” I kissed her on top of her head. “Be brave,” I whispered.

Riddle was clambering down from the wagon seat. “Where are you going?” Shun demanded of him.

“I’m going with Fitz,” he told her. “Through the stone and back to Buckkeep. We are trusting Lady Nettle’s small sister into your care.” I more felt than saw how he turned his eyes on FitzVigilant. I was staring at my child, wondering how I could risk this and how I could not. “Lant, we’ve known each other a long time. I know the man you are capable of being. Never have I trusted you with more than I am entrusting you with now. Watch over Bee with kindness. Nettle and I will hold you responsible for her well-being.” He spoke softly but there were teeth in his words. If FitzVigilant replied, I did not hear it.

I let go of Bee and turned to the Fool. It was as if I saw him for the first time. If not for our moment of violent intimacy, if he had not spoken as I plunged the knife into him, I never would have known him. Only his voice had identified him to me. The rags he wore were beyond dirty: they stank and dangled in hanks of rotting fabric. From his knees down, they hung in wet brown tatters. His long, narrow feet were bound in rags. All his grace and elegance were gone. The scarred skin of his face was drawn tight over his bones. He was staring sightlessly up at the overcast sky, still and resigned to whatever might befall him now.

“I’m going to pick you up,” I warned him. He made the slightest nod. I tucked one of the blankets around him as if I were bundling up a child. I slid my arms under him and lifted. The motion released a fresh waft of stench. I held him carefully and looked at Riddle. “How do we do this?”

He was already moving toward the stone. He glanced at me over his shoulder. “If you don’t know, how do you suppose that I do?” His grin was both resigned and scared. He’d do this. He’d risk his life at my request. He’d lend me his strength to attempt something that might kill all of us. I didn’t deserve such a friend. Carrying the Fool, I followed him up the snowy track toward the standing stone.

I glanced back once at the wagon. No one had moved. The driver’s seat was empty. All three were watching us climb the last bit of rocky hill to the Judgment Stone. I pitched my voice lower. “How did you and Chade do it, when he brought you through the stones with him?”

“He took my arm. I thought of Nettle. When he stepped into the stone, I followed. I could feel him drawing on me. It was like, well, like someone chilled cuddling up to you in a bed. Taking your warmth. And then we stepped out. It was a lot less difficult than walking him down this hill in that snowstorm, and finding our way to the inn. That was where he really needed my strength. Not passing through the stones.” He tipped his head to indicate the Fool. “That’s really Lord Golden?”

“Yes.”

He looked at him dubiously. “How can you tell?”

“I know.”

He let it be, but then asked, “How will you take him through the stone? Are you linked to him?”

“I was, long ago. I hope it will still be enough.” I shook my head. “I have to try.”

Riddle’s steps had slowed. “So much of you I don’t know, even after all the years. Even after all Nettle has told me.” The snow had stopped, and the light was fading from the day. “We could all get lost, couldn’t we? You and I, we’ve never tried this before. And you’re hoping to bring him through with us. All three of us could …”