Golden Fool

A young brown ferret had already taken up residence in the tower room. His name was Gilly and he was obsessed with his own youth, his new territory, and rumors of rodents. His interest in me was limited to sniffing my boots thoroughly and then rooting his way into my pack. His eagerly darting mind was a pleasant counterpoint to the gloom of the tower room. His opinion of me was that I was a creature too big to eat that shared his territory.

Chade’s gossip had covered everything from the Duke of Tilth arming runaway Chalcedean slaves and teaching them military tactics to Kettricken being called on to mediate between Lord Carolsin of Ashlake, who claimed that Lord Dignity of Timbery had seduced and stolen his daughter. Lord Dignity countered that the girl had come to him of her own will and that as they were now married, any issue of seduction no longer mattered. Then there was the matter of the new docks that one Buckkeep merchant wanted to build. Two others claimed that the docks would cut water access to their warehouses. Somehow this trivial matter that the town council should have resolved had become a citywide issue to be debated before the Queen. Chade spoke of a dozen-some other boring and wearisome issues, and it recalled to me that the concerns he and Kettricken dealt with every day went both wide and deep.

When I observed as much to him, he replied, “And that is why we are fortunate that you have returned to Buckkeep, with Prince Dutiful as your sole focus. Kettricken thinks the only way it could be better would be if you could openly accompany him, but I still feel that your ability to observe the court without being too directly connected to the Prince has advantages of its own.”

There had been no further stirring from the Piebalds that Chade had detected. No new postings exposing Witted ones, no clandestine notes, no threats to the Queen. “But what of Laurel’s warning to the Queen, of Deerkin’s rumors?” I asked him.

For a moment he looked discomfited. “So you know of that, do you? Well, I was speaking only of direct tidings from the Piebalds to the Queen. We have taken Laurel’s information seriously, and done what we could to protect her, in a subtle way. She is training a new huntsman now, her new assistant. He is quite brawny and very adept with a sword, and accompanies her almost everywhere. I have great faith in him. Other than that, I have instructed the guards on the gates to be more suspicious of strangers, especially if animals accompany them. Obviously, we are aware that the Piebalds and the Old Blood are at odds. My spies have brought me rumors of families massacred in their beds, and then the houses burned to destroy all sign. All the better, some might say. Let them chew on one another and leave us in peace for a time. Oh, don’t scowl at me like that. Some might say, I said, not that I wished they would all kill one another off. What would you have me do? Turn out the guard? No one has come seeking the Queen’s intervention. Shall we chase shadows that no one has accused of committing crimes? I need something solid, Fitz. A man or men, named by name, and accused of committing these murders. Until someone of Old Blood dares step forward and speak out, there is little I can do. If it is any comfort to you, the rumors alone put the Queen into a fury.” And then he turned his talk to other things.

Civil Bresinga was still at court, still daily seeing Dutiful, and still showing no overt signs of being a traitor or plotter. I was pleased that in my absence, Chade had set other spies onto the boy. Harvest Festival had gone well. The Outislanders had seemed to enjoy it. Dutiful and Elliania’s formal courtship continued under the watchful eyes of all. They walked together, rode together, dined together, danced together. Buckkeep minstrels sang of Elliania’s beauty and grace. On the surface, everything was absolutely correct, but Chade suspected the young couple was less than enamored of one another. Chade hoped they could remain on civil terms until the Narcheska departed for her own land. The negotiations with the traders who had accompanied the Narcheska’s delegation were going very well indeed. Bearns’ uncertainty about the alliance had been somewhat mollified when the Queen had formally awarded Sealbay permission to be the Six Duchies’ exclusive trading port for furs, ivory, and oil. From Buckkeep Town would ship the products of the Inland Duchies, the wines and brandy and grain. Shoaks and Rippon would claim the bulk of the trade in wool, cotton, leather, and such.

“Do you think each duchy will respect the other’s license?” I had asked idly as I swirled brandy in my glass.

Chade snorted. “Of course not. Smuggling is an old and honored profession in every port town I’ve ever visited. But each duke has been given a bone to growl over, and each is already calculating the value that the alliance with the Out Islands will bring to his home province. That is all we were truly after. To convince all of them that the entire Six Duchies would profit from this.” Then he had sighed and leaned back in his chair, rubbing the bridge of his nose. A moment later he shifted uncomfortably, and then said, “Oh.”