“It would be a start.”
He took a deep breath and sighed it out. “I will discuss it with the Queen. It will not take much urging on my part. In truth, I have played the opposite role up until now, urging her to respect the traditions of the folk she has come to rule, for she—”
“Traditions!” I burst out. “Murder and torture as ‘traditions’?”
“She bestraddles an uneasy alliance!” he finished more strongly than he had begun. “Since the end of the Red Ship War, it has been a juggler’s trick to keep the Six Duchies in balance. It takes a light hand, Fitz, and the sense to know when to take a stand and when to let things go.”
I thought of the smell that had hung near the river, and the cut rope left hanging from the tree. “I think she had best decide to take a stand on this.”
“In Buck.”
“In Buck, at the least.”
Chade covered his mouth and then pulled at his chin. “Very well,” he conceded, and for the first time I perceived that I had been negotiating with him. I had not, I reflected, done very well at it, but then I had supposed I had merely been reporting. And whom had I expected to speak out for the Old Blood? Lord Golden? Huntswoman Laurel, who would just as soon not be associated with them? I wished I had been more forceful. Then I reflected that I still could be, when I spoke with Queen Kettricken.
“So. What did our Queen think of Prince Dutiful’s bride?”
Chade looked at me for a long moment. “Are you asking for a report?”
Something in his voice made me falter. A trap? Was this one of his trap questions? “I merely asked. I have no right—”
“Ah. Then Dutiful was mistaken, and you have not consented to teach him?”
I worked the two ideas against one another, trying to see how they fit. Then I gave it up. “And if I have?” I asked him cautiously.
“If you have, then you not only have a right to the information, but a need. If you are going to educate the Prince, you must know everything that affects him. But if you are not, if you intend to go back to your hermit’s hut, if you are asking but for the sake of hearing family gossip…” He let his words trail off.
I knew that old trick of his. Leave a sentence dangling, and someone will leap to fill in the end, and possibly betray their own thoughts in doing so. Instead, I sat regarding my cup of tea and chewing on the side of my thumbnail until he leaned across the table and in exasperation slapped my hand away from my mouth. “Well?” he demanded.
“What did the Prince tell you?”
It was his turn to hold his silence for a time. I waited him out, wolf-wary.
“Nothing,” he grudgingly admitted at last. “I was but hoping.”
I leaned back in my chair, wincing as my aching back touched it. “Oh, old man,” I warned him, shaking my head. Then I found myself smiling, despite myself. “I thought the years had rounded your corners, but they haven’t. Why are you making it like this between us?”
“Because I am the Queen’s Councillor now, not your mentor, my boy. And because, I fear, there are days when, as you put it, my corners are rounded, and I forget things and all my carefully gathered threads turn suddenly to a snarl in my hand. So. I try to be careful, and more than careful, in every aspect of all I do.”
“What was in the tea?” I asked suddenly.
“Some new herbs I’ve been trying. They were mentioned in the Skill scrolls. No elfbark, I assure you. I’d give you nothing that might damage your abilities.”
“But they ‘sharpen’ you?”
“Yes. But at a cost, as you’ve already surmised. All things have a cost, Fitz. We both know that. We’ll both spend this afternoon abed, don’t doubt it. But for now, we have our wits about us. So. Tell me.”
I took a breath, wondering how to phrase it. I glanced up at his fireplace mantel, at a knife that still stood embedded in the center of it. I weighed trust and youthful confidences and all I had once promised King Shrewd. Chade’s gaze followed mine. “A long time ago,” I began softly, “you tested my loyalty to the King, by asking me to steal something from him, just as a prank. You knew I loved you. So you tried that love against my loyalty to my King. Do you recall that?”
“I do,” he responded gravely. “And I still regret it.” He took a breath, and sighed it out. “And you passed his test. Not even for love of me would you betray your King. I know I put you through the fire, FitzChivalry. But it was my King who asked that you be tested.”
I nodded slowly. “I understand that. Now. I too made my oath to the Farseer line, Chade. Just as you did. You vowed no loyalty to me, nor I to you. There is love between us, but no oaths of fealty.” He was watching my face very carefully. A frown divided his white brows. I took a breath. “My loyalty is to my Prince, Chade. I think it must be up to him what he shares with you.” I took a deep breath, and with great regret, severed a portion of my life. “As you have said, old friend. You are the Queen’s Councillor now, no longer my mentor. And I am not your apprentice.” I looked down at the table and steeled myself. The words were hard to say. “The Prince will decide what I am to him. But I will never again report to you about my private words with my Prince, Chade.”
He stood, quite abruptly. To my horror, I saw tears welling in his sharp green eyes. For a moment, his mouth trembled. Then he walked around the table, seized my head in his hands, and bent down to kiss my brow. “Thanks be to Eda and El both,” he whispered hoarsely. “You are his. And he will still be safe when I am gone.”
I was too astonished to speak. He walked slowly around the table and resumed his seat. He poured more tea for both of us. He turned aside to wipe his eyes, and then looked back at me. He pushed my cup across the table toward me and said, “Very well. Shall I report now?”
Chapter XXIX
Buckkeep Town
A good bed of fennel is an excellent addition to any cottage garden, though one must be wary of it spreading. Cut it back each fall, and gather the seedheads before the birds can scatter them all through your garden, or your spring will be spent pulling up the lacy fronds. All know the sweet flavor of this plant, but it has medicinal uses, as well. Both seed and root of this herb aid the digestion. A colicky babe will take a tisane of fennel, and much good with it. Chewed, the seed will refresh the mouth. A poultice of the same will soothe sore eyes. Given as a gift, the message of fennel is said by some to be ‘Strength’ and by others, ‘Flattery’.
As Chade had warned me, I slept away not only the afternoon, but part of the early evening, as well. I awoke in the utter blackness of my little chamber, in the total solitude of myself, and suddenly feared I was dead. I rolled off my bed, found the door by touch, and lunged out of it. Light and moving air stunned me. Lord Golden, impeccably attired, sat at his writing desk. He glanced up casually at my abrupt entrance. “Oh. Awake at last,” he observed congenially. “Wine? Biscuits?” He gestured at a table and chairs by the fireside.
I came to the table rubbing my eyes. Food was artfully arranged on it. I dropped into the closest chair. My tongue felt thick, my eyes sticky. “I have no idea what was in Chade’s tea, but I don’t think I want to try it again.”
“And I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I suspect that that is just as well.” He rose and came to the table, poured wine for us, and then glanced over me disparagingly. He shook his head. “You are hopeless, Tom Badgerlock. Look at yourself. Sleeping in all the day, and then appearing with your hair half on end in a worried old robe. A worse servant a man never had.” He took the other chair.