Fool's Errand (Tawny Man, #1)(77)

Chade narrowed his eyes at me. “Do you play cat and mouse with me, boy?” He set his hands on the edge of the table. Veins and tendons stood up ropily on their backs as he leaned toward me to demand, “Do you think I'm losing my jbs faculties, Fitz? Because I can assure you, I'm not. I may be getting old, boy, but I'm as acute as ever. I promise you that!” Until that moment, I had not doubted it. This outburst was so uncharacteristic of Chade that I found myself leaning back in my chair and regarding him with apprehension. He must have interpreted the look in my eyes, for he sat back in his chair as well and dropped his hands into his lap. When he spoke again, it was my mentor of old that I heard. “Starling told you of the minstrel at Springfest. You know of the unrest in the land among the Witted, yes, and you know of those who call themselves the Piebalds. There is an unkinder name for them. The Cult of the Bastard.” He gave me a baleful look, but gave me no time to absorb that information. He waved a hand, dismissing my shock. “Whatever they call themselves, they have recently taken up a new weapon. They expose families tainted by the Wit. I do not know if they seek to prove how widespread the Wit is, or if their aim is the destruction of their fellows who will not ally with them. Posts appear in public places. 'Gere the Tanner's son is Witted; his beast is a yellow hound.' 'Lady Winsome is Witted; her beast is her merlin.' Each post is signed with their emblem, a piebald horse. Who is Witted and who is not has become Court gossip these days. Some deny the rumors; others flee, to country estates if they are landed, to a distant village and a new name if they are not. If those posts are true, there are far more who possess the Beast Magic than even you might suppose. Or” êand he cocked his head at meê“do you know far more of all this than I do?”

“No,” I replied mildly. “I do not.” I cleared my throat. “Nor was I aware how completely Starling reported to you.”

He steepled his hands under his chin. “I've offended you.”

“No,” I lied. “It's not that, it's that ê”

“Damn me. I've become a testy old man despite all I've done to avoid it! And I offend you and you lie to me about it and when only you can aid me I drive you away from me. My judgment fails me just when I need it most.”

His eyes suddenly met mine and horror stood in his gaze. Before me, the old man dwindled. His voice became an uncertain whisper. “Fitz, I am terrified for the boy. Terrified. The accusation was not posted publicly. It was sent in a sealed note. It was not signed at all, not even with the Piebalds' sigil. 'Do what is right,' it said, 'and no one else ever need know. Ignore this warning, and we will take action of our own.' But they didn't say what they wanted of us, not specifically, so what could we do? We didn't ignore it; we simply waited to hear more. And then he is gone. The Queen fears . . . the Queen fears too many things to list. She fears most that they will kill him. But what I fear is worse than that. Not just that they will kill Kim, but that they will reduce him to ... to what you were when Burrich and I first pulled you from that false grave. A beast in a man's body.”

He rose suddenly and walked away from the table. I do not know if he felt shamed that his love for the boy could reduce him to such terror, or if he sought to spare me the recollection of what I had been. He need not have bothered. I had become adept at refusing those memories. He stared unseeing at a tapestry for a time, then cleared his throat. When he went on, it was the Queen's advisor who . spoke. “The Farseer Throne would not stand before that, FitzChivalry. We have needed a king for too long. If the boy were proven Witted, even that I think I could manage to set in a different light. But if he were shown to his dukes as a beast, all would come undone, and the Six Duchies will never become the Seven Duchies, but will instead be reduced to squabbling citystates and lands between that know no rule. Kettricken and I have come such a long and weary road, my boy, in the years that you have been gone. Neither she nor I can really muster the unquestionable authority that a true Farseerbom king could wield. Through the years, we have sailed a shifting sea of alliances with first these dukes, then those ones, always netting a majority that allowed us to survive another season. We are so close now, so close. In two more years, Prince Dutiful will be Prince no more, but take the title of King- in- Waiting. One year of that, and I think I could persuade the dukes to recognize him as a full king. Then, think, we might feel secure for a time. When King Eyod of the Mountains dies, Dutiful inherits his mantle as well. We will have the Mountains at our back, and if this marriage alliance Kettricken has negotiated with the Out Islands Hetgurd prospers, we will have friendship in the seas to the north.”

“Hetgurd?”

“An alliance of nobles. They have no king there, no high ruler. Kebal Rawbread was an anomaly for them. But this Hetgurd has a number of powerful men in it, and one of them, Arkon Bloodblade, has a daughter. Messages have gone back and forth. His daughter and Dutiful seem to be suitable for one another. The Hetgurd has sent a delegation to formally recognize their betrothal. It will be here soon. If Prince Dutiful meets their expectations, the affiancing will be recognized at a ceremony at the next new moon.” He turned back to me, shaking his head. “I fear it is too soon for such an alliance. Beams does not like it, nor Rippon. They would probably profit from the renewed trade, but the wounds are still too fresh. Better, I would think, to wait another five years, let the trade swell slowly between the countries, let Dutiful take up the reins of the Six Duchies, and then propose an alliance. Not with my Prince, but with a lesser offering. A daughter of one of the dukes, perhaps a younger son . . . but that is only my advice. I am not the Queen, and the Queen has made her will known. She will have peace in her lifetime, she proclaims. I think she attempts too much: to meld the Mountain Kingdom into the Six Duchies as a seventh, and to put an Outislander woman on our throne as Queen. It is too much, too soon. . . .”