Fool's Errand
So who was this man that I had known for most of my life?
A hint of presence, more a scent than a thought, carried me to the window. I looked, not out over the river, but down into the bushes outside the window. Nighteyes' mind brushed softly against mine, cautioning me to control our Witbond. A pair of deep eyes looked up and met mine. Cat, his delicate touch confirmed before I had even thought to ask it. Catpiss stink on the corners of the stable, and on the underside of the bushes behind it. Cat scat buried in the rose garden. Cats everywhere.
More than one? Dutiful' s cat was a gift from this family. Perhaps they favor them as coursing animals .
That is a certainty. The stink of them is pervasive. It makes me uneasy. I have little desire to meet one in the flesh. All have known of them have learned since this afternoon, when Hap proposed that should be friendly with one . I did no more than put my nose into the door when that orange fury flew at me, all daws and spitting. know no more of them than you do. Burrich never kept cats about the stable.
A door closed softly behind me. I whirled to the sound, but it was only Lord Golden come into the room. Whether Fool or Golden, he was still one of the few in the world who could take me by surprise. I recalled my role, straightened, and bowed to him. “Master, I have seen to arranging your things. Your bath awaits.”
“Well done, Badgerlock. And the night air is refreshing. Is the view pleasant?”
“Excellent, sir. The room commands a wide view of the river valley. And the night is fine, with a near full moon that would set most wolves howling.”
“Of course, master,” I concurred with a sinking heart. In reality I had hoped to slip out of the open window and do a bit of reconnaissance with Nighteyes.
It's nothing that I cannot manage better on my own. I shaK snuff and range outside. See that you do the same inside. The sooner we are finished with the errand, the sooner we are for home again.
That's true, I agreed, but I wondered at the slight sinking of my heart at the thought. Didn't I want to leave Buckkeep and resume my own life as soon as possible? Or was I coming to relish my role as a servingman to a wealthy fop? I asked myself sarcastically.
From his pocket he drew forth Jinna's charm. It coiled into my extended hand.
All this he announced with an air of genial good cheer. Lord Golden was a man well pleased with himself, looking forward to an evening of pleasant talk and hearty viands. I did as I was bade, and then gratefully retreated to my own room with wash water and a bit of applescented oil. Shortly I heard Lord Golden splashing luxuriously while humming a tune I did not know. My own washingup was a bit more restrained but just as welcome to me. I hurried, knowing that my services would soon be required again.
I struggled with my doublet, finding that it had been tailored far more closefitting than I was accustomed to. There was scarcely room to conceal Chade's roll of tools let alone the small knife that I decided I would carry. I could scarcely wear a sword into the dining room on a social occasion, but I found I did not wish to go completely unarmed. The wolf's secretive approach to the Wit tonight had infected me with wariness. I cinched the belt that secured the doublet and then pulled my hair back into its warrior tail. Some of the applescented oil persuaded my hair to lie flatter. I realized I had not heard splashing for some moments, and hastened back into Lord Golden's chamber.