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Fool's Fate


Chade lifted the covers a small crack. “Talk, then.” He yawned tremendously. “I am too old for this camping out in the snow after hiking all day,” he muttered venomously, as if it were all my fault.

“I talked with the Fool last night, after he and Civil fought.”

“Ah, yes. And we spoke with Civil. Or Civil spoke at us. For quite a long time. I had had no idea that your charade at Galekeep had been so convincing. Civil is quite distressed that we allow Swift to spend time with Lord Golden,” Chade replied grumpily.

Dutiful snickered when I scowled. “The truth is that Civil would rather believe that than the truth. The Fool charted it out for me. He thinks that Sydel's parents, or at least one of them, were the traitors who sold Dutiful to the Piebalds. I suspect that her father is the one who broke the engagement between them, and that perhaps he did so more because Civil had opposed the Piebalds than because Sydel had behaved foolishly.”

I was rewarded by Chade poking his nose out of his blankets. I watched him ponder, turning the pieces to see if they fit. After a moment, he said almost grudgingly, “Yes. He could be right. Sydel's parents would have been well positioned for all that was done. Would that I had an extra message bird, to send these tidings to the Queen! But I have just the one for Buckkeep, and one for the Hetgurd, to bring them back to fetch us. There are no birds to spare.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Thick and Nettle?” I asked bluntly. I wondered if he had kept the Prince in ignorance.

Chade shook his head, tangling his white hair against his blankets. “No. That link is not ready to bear tidings as heavy as this. Think of the consequences if the message were incorrectly interpreted, or if the girl refused to believe Thick's tidings. No. That arrangement must be trained and tested, with simple messages, both sent and received, before we can rely on it for serious purposes.” He sighed heavily, the sound an unuttered rebuke to me. “Thick will sleep in our tent tonight. Before he dozes off, Dutiful will ask him to convey greetings to Nettle, and to pass on some simple message to the Queen, one that will provoke a response from her. The creation of that will take some thought. If it goes well, then we will try a more weighty message the next night. But only when we are certain that messages are being relayed accurately will we pass on our suspicions of a traitor.” He nodded to himself, and then rolled his head to look at the Prince. “Agreed?”

“Agreed.” Dutiful gave a small sigh of his own. “Let us hope that Queen I-Highly-Doubt-It will be receptive to communicating with me via the Skill.” And he too gave me a pointed look that placed the blame squarely on my doorstep that he and his cousin did not already know one another.

“I did what I thought best,” I said stiffly.

And Chade, ever one to seize an advantage, agreed smoothly with “Of course you did. You always act from high motives, Fitz. But next time it is up to you to make a significant decision based on what you ‘think is best,' you may remember this, and reflect that perhaps I have a few more years of experience than you do. Perhaps the next time, you will give my opinion of the matter a bit more weight.”

“I will keep your advice in mind,” I agreed, and this time my words were formally cool as well as stiff. Never had I thought to have my loyalty tugged between Chade and the Fool as if it were a rag desired by two puppies. Each had conceded that the decision would be mine, but apparently neither trusted me to make it without prompting. And then Swift returned with a pot packed full of snow so I excused myself and left. The Prince watched me go with thoughtful eyes but I felt no touch of his mind on mine.

By that time, the rest of the camp was well astir. Peottre had arisen early, Riddle told me, and had gone ahead to scout out the first part of our journey. He did not like the balmy breeze, heavy with moisture, that blew over the snowy ground. Even Thick was up and blundering about in the tent, scattering the contents of his pack in an effort to find fresh clothing. When I told him that we were traveling light and would both wear what we had on the day before, he looked quite displeased. I reminded him that when he first came into the Prince's service, he had had but one set of clothing to his name. At that, he knit his brows as if thinking deeply, then shook his head and said he did not recall such a time. I did not think the point worth arguing. I bundled him into his outer clothes and got him out of the tent so our guardsmen could strike it.

I found food for us, plain porridge and a bit of salt fish. He wasn't pleased with the breakfast and neither was I, but it was all that we had. Then I busied myself lightening his pack into mine. All the while I spoke to him encouragingly about the day's travel, saying that now that we knew how to walk over this glacier, we would do better and keep up with the others. He nodded, but in an unconvinced way that made my heart sink.
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