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Over the next few days I waited, certain there would be some sort of furor and hoping to see Regal thoroughly discomfited. But to my surprise, there was none. Regal remained his usual self, save that he was even sharper than usual, and seemed to flirt even more outrageously with every lady. As for Lady Dahlia, she suddenly took an interest in the council proceedings and confounded her husband by becoming an ardent supporter of warship taxes. The Queen expressed her displeasure over this change of alliance by excluding Lady Dahlia from a wine tasting in her chambers. The whole thing mystified me, but when I at last mentioned it to Chade, he rebuked me.

“Remember, you are the King’s man. A task is given you, and you do it. And you should be well satisfied with yourself that you completed the given task. That is all you need to know. Only Shrewd may plan the moves and plot his game. You and I, we are playing pieces, perhaps. But we are the best of his markers; be assured of that.”

But early on, Chade found the limits of my obedience. In taming the horse, he had suggested I cut the frog of the animal’s foot. I never even considered doing that. I informed him, with all the worldly wisdom of one who has grown up around horses, that there were many ways to make a horse limp without actually harming him, and that he should trust me to choose an appropriate one. To this day, I do not know how Chade felt about my refusal. He said nothing at the time to condemn it, or to suggest he approved my actions. In this as in many things, he kept his own counsel.

Once every three months or so King Shrewd would summon me to his chambers. Usually the call for me came in the very early morning. I would stand before him, oftentimes while he was in his bath, or having his hair bound back in the gold-wired queue that only the King could wear, or while his man was laying out his clothes. Always the ritual was the same. He would look me over carefully, studying my growth and grooming as if I were a horse he was considering buying. He would ask a question or two, about my horsemanship or weapons study usually, and listen gravely to my brief answer. And then he would ask, almost formally, “And do you feel I am keeping my bargain with you?”

“Sir, I do,” I would always answer.

“Then see that you keep your end of it as well,” was always his reply and my dismissal. And whatever servant attending him or opening the door for me to enter or leave never appeared to take the slightest notice of me or of the King’s words at all.

Come late fall of that year, on the very cusp of winter’s tooth, I was given my most difficult assignment. Chade had summoned me up to his chambers almost as soon as I had blown out my night candle. We were sharing sweetmeats and a bit of spiced wine, sitting in front of Chade’s hearth. He had been lavishly praising my latest escapade, one that required me turning inside out every shirt hung to dry on the laundry courtyard’s drying lines without getting caught. It had been a difficult task, the hardest part of which had been to refrain from laughing aloud and betraying my hiding place within a dyeing vat when two of the younger laundry lads had declared my prank the work of water sprites and refused to do any more washing that day. Chade, as usual, knew of the whole scenario even before I reported to him. He delighted me by letting me know that Master Lew of the launderers had decreed that Sinjon’s wort was to be hung at every corner of the courtyard and garlanded about every well to ward off sprites from tomorrow’s work.

“You’ve a gift for this, boy.” Chade chuckled and tousled my hair. “I almost think there’s no task I could set you that you couldn’t do.”

He was sitting in his straight-backed chair before the fire, and I was on the floor beside him, leaning my back against one of his legs. He patted me the way Burrich might pat a young bird dog that had done well, and then leaned forward to say softly, “But I’ve a challenge for you.”

“What is it?” I demanded eagerly.

“It won’t be easy, even for one with as light a touch as yours,” he warned me.

“Try me!” I challenged him in return.

“Oh, in another month or two, perhaps, when you’ve had a bit more teaching. I’ve a game to teach you tonight, one that will sharpen your eye and your memory.” He reached into a pouch and drew out a handful of something. He opened his hand briefly in front of me: colored stones. The hand closed. “Were there any yellow ones?”

“Yes. Chade, what is the challenge?”

“How many?”

“Two that I could see. Chade, I bet I could do it now.”

“Could there have been more than two?”

“Possibly, if some were concealed completely under the top layer. I don’t think it likely. Chade, what is the challenge?”

He opened his bony old hand, stirred the stones with his long forefinger. “Right you were. Only two yellow ones. Shall we go again?”

“Chade, I can do it.”

“You think so, do you? Look again, here’s the stones. One, two, three, and gone again. Were there any red ones?”

“Yes. Chade, what is the task?”

“Were there more red ones than blue? To bring me something personal from the King’s night table.”

“What?”

“Were there more red stones than blue ones?”

“No, I mean, what was the task?”

“Wrong, boy!” Chade announced it merrily. He opened his fist. “See, three red and three blue. Exactly the same. You’ll have to look quicker than that if you’re to meet my challenge.”

“And seven green. I knew that, Chade. But . . . you want me to steal from the King?” I still couldn’t believe I had heard it.

“Not steal, just borrow. As you did Mistress Hasty’s shears. There’s no harm in a prank like that, is there?”

“None except that I’d be whipped if I were caught. Or worse.”

“And you’re afraid you’d be caught. See, I told you it had best wait a month or two, until your skills were better.”

“It’s not the punishment. It’s that if I were caught . . . the King and I . . . we made a bargain. . . .” My words dwindled away. I stared at him in confusion. Chade’s instruction was a part of the bargain Shrewd and I had made. Each time we met, before he began instructing me, he formally reminded me of that bargain. I had given to Chade as well as the King my word that I would be loyal. Surely he could see that if I acted against the King, I’d be breaking my part of the bargain.

“It’s a game, boy,” Chade said patiently. “That’s all. Just a bit of mischief. It’s not really so serious as you seem to think it. The only reason I’m choosing it as a task is that the King’s room and his things are so closely watched. Anyone can make off with a seamstress’s shears. We’re talking about a real bit of stealth now, to enter the King’s own chambers and take something that belongs to him. If you could do that, I’d believe I’d spent my time well in teaching you. I’d feel you appreciated what I’d taught you.”

“You know I appreciate what you teach me,” I said quickly. That wasn’t it at all. Chade seemed to be completely missing my point. “I’d feel . . . disloyal. Like I was using what you’d taught me to trick the King. Almost as if I were laughing at him.”

“Ah!” Chade leaned back in his chair, a smile on his face. “Don’t let that bother you, boy. King Shrewd can appreciate a good jest when he’s shown one. Whatever you take, I’ll return myself to him. It will be a sign to him of how well I’ve taught you and how well you’ve learned. Take something simple if it worries you so; it needn’t be the crown off his head or the ring from his finger! Just his hairbrush, or any bit of paper that’s about — even his glove or belt would do. Nothing of any great value. Just a token.”