Fool’s Quest

“You’re too hard on him, Fitz. He can’t help who he is, or what he isn’t. I, for one, am glad for what he isn’t. And I was very glad of his sword a short time ago. Nettle was nearly a widow before she was a mother.”

“I don’t dislike him,” I said, and wondered if that were true. “He’s just not the sort of man I need backing me right now.”

“Nor am I, then, I suppose.”

I stared at him. He turned and left the tent. I followed. In the thin winter sunlight, he stretched and then turned to look back at me. “You drugged us and left us. Like discarded baggage. I understand the other two. Per is just a boy yet, and Lant is injured. But why me?”

“I couldn’t get them to drink it without your sharing it, too.”

He looked away from me. “No, Fitz. I can think of a dozen ways around that, from joggling my arm when I started to drink to telling me what you were doing.”

It was hard to admit the truth. “I didn’t want any of you to witness what I might have to do. I didn’t want you to see me as . . . what I truly am. What I had to be today.” I glanced toward where Hogen’s body had been. Foxglove was there, ordering it dragged away by the Ringhill Guard to join the other bodies piled for burning. I wondered if anyone would notice how I’d mutilated him.

“I think I know who you are.”

I met his gaze and gave him honesty. “Probably you do. I’m still not proud to have you see it. Let alone watch me do it.” I looked away from him. “I’d rather that my daughter’s husband, the father of my grandchild, not be a party to things like this.”

He looked at me.

I tried to explain. “Once you are a father, you have to try to be a better man than you truly are.”

He stared. Then he laughed. “Me especially?”

“No. No, not you. I meant myself. That I tried.”

He clapped me on the shoulder. “The carris seed is catching up with you, Fitz. But I do know what you mean.”

“How did you know?”

“Your breath reeks of it.”

“I needed it,” I excused myself.

“So. Share with me now. And let’s get started on our own search. If you were Bee and Shine and able to flee, where would you go?”

“I’d probably backtrack to that town, assuming they passed through it.” I passed him the folded paper that had held the carris seed. He shook the few remaining seeds into his palm then clapped them to his mouth. He chewed.

“Me, too,” he agreed. “Let’s send Lant, the boy, and your roan horse on to Ringhill Keep. Have Lant give a report to the Skill-user there to relay to Nettle and Dutiful while you and I begin our search.”

It was past dark when Riddle and I rode through the gates of Ringhill Keep. Our searches had yielded nothing, nor had Foxglove’s soldiers discovered anything. Four times Riddle and I had followed tracks. We’d found one wandering horse that had probably just bolted and a Chalcedean body, and twice the tracks had merged with well-traveled roads. We’d asked in the village, and visited four different isolated farmsteads. No one had seen anything or anyone. By the time we returned to the campsite for a final visit, the area had been so overridden that there were no longer any tracks worth following. The smoldering remains of the bone-fire gave off a greasy smell. Night was coming on, and I was finished.

As its name suggested, the Ringhill Keep fortification ringed one of the hills that overlooked the coast of Buck. From its vantage, one could watch ships approach Forge, Salter’s Deep, and the smaller fishing villages that fringed that part of the coast. It was not a grand keep, but like many settlements in Buck it was growing. We allowed the stable boys to take our horses. I had used Perseverance’s mount. The lad had ridden Priss and gentled Fleeter here. I thought of checking on her but as I knew it must, the carris seed had deserted me. I was weary past exhaustion, and the dark mood of elfbark had claimed me.

I did my best to be civil as the commander of the keep greeted me. Commander Spurman invited Kesir Riddle and me to join him for a late repast. They put us in the best lodging the keep had, and urged us to take advantage of the steams. I had no heart for cleanliness, but forced myself through the ritual. We shared the steams with a dozen or more guardsmen, still drunk on blood and battle. My efforts to remain unnoticed were useless, and I had to accept congratulations from them.

When we entered the dining hall, I found not only Spurman but also a handful of his officers, Foxglove, Lant, and several others convened. I had expected a small and simple meal, but Spurman had ordered up the best his keep could offer. For a moment, I was baffled. Then I recalled that I was a prince. Carris seed. My head felt full of wool. Time to tighten my thoughts and be very careful.