Fool's Errand (Tawny Man, #1)(107)

“Do you think the Prince just ran away?” I dropped the kerchief from my eyes to stare at her in surprise. This woman was blunt. She did not look away from me. I glanced about to be sure no one could hear us. “ don't know,” I said as bluntly. “I suspect he may have been lured rather than taken by force. But I do think others were involved in his leaving.” Then I bit my tongue and chided myself for being too open. How would I back up that opinion? By revealing I was Witted? Better to listen than to talk. “Then we may be opposed in recovering him.” “It's possible.”

“Why do you think they lured him away?” “Oh, I don't know.” I was beginning to sound vapid and I knew it.

She met my eyes squarely. “Well. I also think he was lured away, if not taken outright. I speculate that those who took him did not approve of the Queen's plan for marrying him to the Outislander narcheska.” She glanced away and added, “Nor do I.”

Those words gave me pause. It was the first hint that she was not unquestioning in her loyalty to the Queen. All Chade's old training came to the fore, as I sought to see how deep her disagreement ran. Gouldshe have had something to do with the Prince's disappearance? “I am not sure that I agree with it myself,” I replied, inviting her to say more.

“The Prince is too young to be pledged to anyone,” Laurel said forthrightly. “I have no confidence that the Out Islands are our best allies, let alone that they will remain true. How can they? They are little more than citystates scattered along the coast of a forbidding land. No one lord holds true power there, and they squabble constantly. Any alliance we make there is as like to draw us into one of their petty wars as to benefit us in trade.”

I was taken aback. She had obviously given this a great deal of thought, and in a depth I would not have expected of a Huntswoman. “What would you favor, then?”

“Were the decision mine and well I know it is not I would hold him back, in reserve as it were, until I saw surely what was happening, not just in the Out Islands but to the south, as well, in Chalced and Bingtown and the lands beyond. There has been talk of war down there, and other wild tales. Dragons have been seen, they do say. Not that I believe all I hear, but dragons did come to the Six Duchies during the Red Ship War. I've heard those tales too often to set them aside. Perhaps they are attracted to war and the prey it offers them.”

To enlighten her in that regard would have required hours. I merely asked, “Then you would marry our Prince off to a Chalcedean noblewoman, or a Bingtown Trader's daughter?”

“Perhaps it would be best for him to marry within the Six Duchies. There are some who mutter that the Queen is foreignborn, and that a second generation of a foreign queen might not be good.”

“And you agree?”

She gave me a look. “Do you forget I am the Queen's ROBIN HOB BHuntswoman? Better a foreigner like her than some of the Farrow noblewomen I've had to serve in the past.”

Our talk died there for a time. We led the horses away from the river. I removed bits and let the animals graze. I was hungry myself. As if she could read my thoughts, Laurel dug into her saddlebag and came up with apples for us both, “I always carry food with me,” she said as she offered one to me. “Some of the folk I've hunted for think no more of the comfort of their hunters than they do of their horses or dogs.”

I bit back a response that would have defended Lord Golden from such a charge. Best to let the Fool decide how he wished to present himself. I thanked her and bit into the apple. It was both tart and sweet. Myblack lifted her head suddenly.

Share? I offered her, She flicked her ears at me disdainfully and went back to grazing.

A few days without me and he's consorting with horses. I might have known. The wolf used the Wit without subtlety, startling me and spooking all three horses.

“Nighteyes!” I exclaimed in surprise. I looked around for him.

“Beg pardon?”

“My . . . dog. He's followed me from home.”

Laurel looked at me as if I were mad. “Your dog? Where?”

Luckily for me, the great wolf had just come into view, slipping out of the shelter of the trees. He was panting, and he headed straight for the river to drink. Laurel stared. “That's a wolf.”

“He does look a great deal like a wolf,” I conceded. I clapped my hands and whistled. “Here, Nighteyes. Here, boy.”

I'm drinking, you idiot. I'm thirsty. As you might be if you had trotted all the way here instead of riding a horse.

“No,” Laurel replied evenly. “That is not a dog that looks like a wolf. That is a wolf.”

“I adopted him when he was very small.” Nighteyes was still lapping. “He's been a very good companion to me.”

“Lady Bresinga may not welcome a wolf into her home.”

Nighteyes lifted his head suddenly, looked about, and then without a glance at me, slunk back into the woods. Tonight, he promised me in parting.

I'll be on the other side of the river by tonight.

So will I. Trust me. Tonight.

Myblack had caught Nighteyes' scent and was staring after him. She whickered uneasily. I looked back at Laurel and found her regarding me curiously.

“I must have been mistaken. That was, indeed, a wolf. Looked a great deal like my dog, though.”