“I’ve taken a position at Buckkeep as a manservant to Lord Golden.” Even knowing it was false, it was still hard to say those words. I had never realized what a proud fellow I was until I had to masquerade as the Fool’s servant. “When I left home, I told Hap to join me when he could. At that time, I was not sure of my plans. I think that when he gets to Buckkeep Town, he may seek you out. May I leave word for him with you, so you can send him on to me?”
I braced myself for all the inevitable questions. Why had I suddenly taken this employment, why hadn’t I simply brought Hap with me, how did I know Lord Golden? Instead, her eyes brightened and she exclaimed, “With great pleasure! But what I propose is simpler. When Hap arrives, I’ll keep him here and send word up to the keep. There’s a little room in the back he can use; it was my nephew’s before he grew up and married away. Let the boy have a day or so in Buckkeep Town; he seemed to enjoy it so at Springfest, and your new duties will probably not allow you time to show him about yourself.”
“I know he would love that,” I found myself saying. It would be far easier for me to maintain my role as Lord Golden’s servant if I did not have Hap in the midst of it. “My hope is that here in Buckkeep I’ll be able to earn the coin to purchase him a good apprenticeship.”
Coming up. A large tawny cat announced this to me at the same moment that he effortlessly elevated onto my lap. I stared at him in surprise. Never had an animal spoken so clearly to me via the Wit save for my own bond-animals. Nor had I ever been so completely ignored by an animal that had just spoken mind to mind with me. The cat stood, hind legs on my lap, front paws on the table, and surveyed the food. A plumy tail waved before my face.
“Fennel! Shame on you, stop that. Come here.” Jinna leaned across the table to scoop the cat from my lap. She picked up the conversation as she did so. “Yes, Hap’s told me of his ambitions, and it’s a fine thing to see a young man with dreams and hopes.”
“He’s a good boy,” I fervently agreed with her. “And he deserves a good chance at making something of himself. I’d do anything for him.”
Fennel now stood on Jinna’s lap and stared at me across the table. She likes me better than you. He stole a piece of fish from the edge of her plate.
Do cats speak so rudely to strangers? I rebuked him.
He leaned back to bump his head possessively against Jinna’s chest. His yellow-eyed stare was daunting. The cats talk however they want. To whomever they want. But only a rude human speaks out of turn. Be quiet. I told you. She likes me better than you. He twisted his head to look up at Jinna’s face. More fish?
“That’s plain,” she agreed. I tried to remember what I had said to her as I watched her give the cat a bit of fish at the edge of the table. I knew Jinna was not Witted. I wondered if the cat was lying to me about all cats talking. I knew little of cats. Burrich had never kept them in the stables. We’d had rat dogs to keep the vermin down.
Jinna misinterpreted my preoccupation. A touch of sympathy came into her eyes as she added, “Still, it must be hard to leave your own home and being your own master to come to town and serve, no matter how fine a man Lord Golden may be. I hope he’s as openhanded at paying you as he is when he comes down to Buckkeep Town to trade.”
I forced a smile to my face. “You know of Lord Golden, then?”
She bobbed a nod at me. “By coincidence, he was right here in this very room just last month. He wanted a charm to keep moths from his wardrobe. I told him I had never made such a thing before, but that I could attempt one. So gracious he was for such a noble man. He paid me for it, just on my word that I would make one. And then he insisted on looking at every charm I had in my shop, and bought no less than six of them. Six! One for sweet dreams, one for light spirits, another to attract birds oh, and he seemed quite entranced with that one, almost as if he were a bird himself. But when I asked to see his hands, to tune the charms to him, he told me they were all intended as gifts. I told him he might send each recipient to me, to have the charms tuned if they wished, but as yet none of them have come. Still, they will work well enough as I built them. I do like to tune the charms, though. It’s all the difference between a charm built by rote, and one created by a master. And I do regard myself as a master, thank you very much!”
These last words she offered with a hint of laughter in her voice in response to my raised brows. We laughed together, and I had no right to feel as comfortable with her as I did at that moment. “You’ve put my mind at rest,” I declared. “I know Hap is a good lad, and little in need of my care anymore. Yet I’m afraid I’m always imagining the worst befalling him.”
Don’t ignore me! Fennel threatened. He hopped up onto the table. Jinna put him on the floor. He floated back onto her lap. She petted him absently.
“That’s just a part of being a father,” she assured me. “Or a friend.” A strange look came over her face. “I’m not above foolish worries myself. Even when they’re none of my business.” She gave me a frankly speculative look that evaporated all the ease in my body. “I’m going to speak plainly,” she warned me.
“Please,” I invited her but every bone in my body wished she would not.
“You’re Witted,” she said. It was not an accusation. It was more as if she commented on a disfiguring disease. “I travel quite a bit in my trade, more perhaps than you have in the last few years. The mood of the folk has changed toward Witted ones, Tom. It’s become ugly everywhere I’ve been recently. I didn’t see it myself, but I heard that in a town in Farrow they displayed the dismembered bodies of the Witted ones they’d killed, with each piece in a separate cage to prevent them coming back to life.”
I kept my face still but I felt as if ice were creeping up my spine. Prince Dutiful. Stolen or run away, but in either case vulnerable. Outside the protective walls of Buckkeep where people were capable of such monstrosities, the young Prince was at risk.
“I’m a hedge-witch,” Jinna said softly. “I know what it is to be born with magic already inside you. It’s not something you can change, even if you want to. More, I know what it’s like to have a sister who was born empty of it. She seemed so free to me sometimes. She could look at a charm my father had made, and to her it was just sticks and beads. It never whispered and nagged at her. The hours I spent beside my father, learning his skills, were hours she spent with my mother in the kitchen. When we were growing up, the envy went both ways. But we were a family and we could be taught tolerance of our differences.” She smiled at her memories, then shook her head, and her face grew graver. “Out in the wide world, it’s different. Folk may not threaten to tear me apart or burn me, but I’ve seen hatred and jealousy in more than one set of eyes. Folk think either that it isn’t fair that I’ve got something they can never have, or they fear that somehow I’ll use what I’ve got to hurt them. They never stop to think they’ve got talents of their own that I’ll never master. They might be rude to me, jostle me on the street, or try to squeeze me out of my market space, but they won’t kill me. You don’t have that comfort. The smallest slip could be your death. And if someone provokes your temper… Well. You become a different man altogether. I confess it’s been bothering me since the last time I saw you. So, well… to put my own mind at rest, I made you something.”