Golden Fool
“But Dutiful is your prince and your student. Surely that puts you on a different footing.”
“I don’t see what that has to do with it,” I told him, and tried not to sound short-tempered.
“Well. Only that I think he might help you remove it.” He shook a few drops of something into the teapot. He paused, then asked delicately, “Is the Prince aware of what you did to him? Does he know you commanded him not to fight you?”
“No!” I did let my temper show on that word. Then I took a breath. “No, and I’m ashamed I did it, and ashamed to admit to you that I’m afraid to tell him. In so many ways, I’m still getting to know him, Chade. I don’t want to give him reason to distrust me.” I rubbed my brow. “We did not meet one another under the best circumstances, you know.”
“I know, I know.” He came to pat me on the shoulder. “So. What have you been doing with him?”
“But you aren’t sure?”
“Not really. When we spar, we aren’t truly trying to hurt one another. It’s a game, just as it is when we wrestle. Still, I’ve never noticed that he holds back at all, or allows me to win more easily.”
“Well. You know, I think it’s very good that he has you for those sorts of things. As well as the Skill lessons. I think he was missing that sort of rough companionship in his life.” Chade took the kettle from the hearth and poured hot water over his newest mixture of leaves. “I suppose only time will tell. So. Do you Skill at all with him?”
“Right now, when he Skills, he shouts from the top of the tower, and anyone listening could hear him. We strive to narrow that shout, to make it a whisper only to me. And we work to have him convey only what he wishes to tell me, not all the information in his mind at that time. So we do set exercises. I have him try to reach my mind while he is at table and carrying on a conversation. Then we refine it; can he reach my mind, convey what he was eating, while keeping to himself who his companions are? After that, we set other goals. Could he wall me out of his mind? Could he set walls that I could not breach, even in the dead of night while he slept?”
Chade frowned to himself as he found a cup, and wiped it clean with one end of his trailing sleeve. I tried not to smile. Sometimes, when we were alone like this, he reverted from the grand noble to the intent old man who had taught me my first trade. “Do you think that’s wise? Teaching him how to close you out of his mind.”
“Well, he has to learn to do it, in case he ever encounters someone who doesn’t have his best interest at heart. At the moment, I’m the only other Skill-user he can practice with.”
“There’s Thick,” Chade pointed out as he poured for himself. The hot liquid splashed, greenish-black, into his cup. He regarded it with distaste.
“What problem?” Chade took his cup over in front of the fire.
I felt a moment’s alarm. I tried to conceal it by speaking casually. “I thought I told you about it. He was having problems with the other servants hitting him and taking his money.”
“Oh. That.” He leaned back in his chair as if it were of no consequence. I breathed a silent sigh of relief. He hadn’t forgotten our conversation. “I found a reason for the cook to give him separate quarters. Ostensibly, that’s where he works, you know. The kitchens. So now he has his own room near the pantries. It’s small, but I gather it’s the first time he’s ever had any place all to himself. I think he likes it.”
“Well. That’s good, then.” I paused for a moment. “Did you ever consider sending him away from Buckkeep? Just until the Prince has a better grasp on the Skill? There are times when his wild Skilling is a bit distracting. It’s like trying to work a complicated sum while near you someone else is counting out loud.”