“Not yet,” I heard myself say. “For you are right in saying that someone, somewhere, must know something. And if they are aware the Prince is absent from Buckkeep, and they have not come forward, then they have a reason. And I should like to know what it is.”
“Then what do you suggest?” Kettricken demanded of me. “What is left to us?”
I knew it would chafe her, yet I still suggested it. “Give me a little more time. A day, at most two. Let me ask more questions and sniff about some more.”
“But anything could have happened to him by then!”
“Anything could have happened to him by now,” I pointed out levelly. I spoke calmly the cruel words. “Kettricken. If someone took him to kill him, they have done it by now. If they took him to use him, they are still awaiting our move in this game. If he ran away, then he may yet run home again. While we keep his absence a secret, the next move belongs to us. Let it be known, and others will make that move for us. You will have nobles tearing up the countryside, looking for him, and not all will have his best interests at heart. Some will want to ’rescue’ him to curry favor, and others may think to seize a prize from another weasel’s jaws.”
She closed her eyes but nodded reluctantly to my words. When she spoke, her voice was strained. “But you know that time runs out for us. Chade has told you that an Outislander contingent comes to formalize Prince Dutiful’s alliance? When they arrive a fortnight from now, I must be able to produce him or I risk not only embarrassment but also insult and an end to a carefully wrought truce that I hope to make an alliance.”
“Bought with your son.” The words leapt out of my mouth before I knew I had thought them.
She opened her eyes and gazed at me directly. “Yes. As the Mountain alliance with the Six Duchies was bought with me.” She cocked her head at me. “Do you consider it a poor transaction?”
I deserved rebuke. I bowed my head to it. “No, my Queen. I think it was the best bargain that the Six Duchies ever made.”
She nodded to my compliment and a faint blush rosed her cheeks. “I shall listen to your counsel, Fitz. Two more days will we seek Dutiful on our own, before we reveal his absence to our people. In those days, we will use every means at our disposal to discover what may have become of him. Chade has opened to you the concealed maze within the walls of Buckkeep. I little like what it says of us, that we furtively spy on our own folk, but I grant the freedom of it to you, FitzChivalry. I know you will not abuse it. Use it as seems wise to you.”
“Thank you, my Queen,” I replied awkwardly. I did not truly welcome this gift, the access to every lord’s and lady’s small and grubby flaws. I did not glance at Chade. What had it cost him to be privy not just to the massive secrets of the throne, but the dirty and shameful sins of the folk of the keep? What vices had he inadvertently witnessed, what painful shortcomings had he glimpsed, and how did he meet the eyes of those folk every day in the broad and well-lit chambers of the keep?
“…and whatever you must do.”
My mind had been wandering, but my Queen was looking at me, waiting. I made the only possible response. “Yes, my Queen.”
She gave a great sigh as if she had feared my refusal. Or as if she dreaded what she next must say. “Then do so, FitzChivalry, ever friend. I would not spend you this way if it could be avoided. Safeguard your health. Be wary of the drugs and herbs, for as thorough as your old master is, no translation should ever be absolutely trusted.” She took a breath, then added in a different tone, “If either Chade or I press you too hard, tell us so. Your head must stand guard against my mother’s heart. Do not… do not let me shame myself in this, by asking more of you than you can…” Her voice trailed away. I think she trusted me to take her meaning. She drew another breath. She turned her head and looked away from me, as if that would keep me from knowing that tears stood in her eyes. “You will begin tonight?” she asked in an unnaturally high voice.
I knew what I had just agreed to. I knew then that I stood at the lip of the abyss.
I flung myself off into it. “Yes, my Queen.”
How shall I describe that long climb up the stairs to the tower? Chade led the way through the secret places of the keep and I followed his uncertain lamplight. Dread and anticipation warred inside me. I felt I had left my stomach far behind me, and yet I longed for him to hurry up the steps. Excitement coursed through me as we approached that indulgence so long denied to me. My hopes and focus should have been on recovering the Prince, but the prospect of drowning myself in Skill dominated all my thoughts. It terrified and tantalized me. My skin felt taut and alive, and my senses seemed to strain against the confines of my flesh. Music seemed to move through the air at the edges of my hearing.
Chade triggered the door’s opening, and then gestured for me to precede him. As I edged past him, he observed, “You look nervous as a bridegroom, boy.”
I cleared my throat. “It seems strange to rush headlong into that which I have tried to school myself to avoid.”
He shut the door behind us as I glanced about the room. A small fire burned on the grate. Even in the height of summer, the thick stone walls of the keep seemed to whisper a chill into the room. Verity’s sword leaned up against the hearth where I had left it, but someone had removed the leather on the hilt. “You recognized Verity’s blade,” I observed.
“How could I not? I am glad you kept it safe.”
I laughed. “More like, it kept me safe. Well. What exactly do you propose?”
“I suggest you make yourself comfortable and that you attempt to Skill out after the Prince. That is all.”
I looked around for a place to sit. Not on the hearthstones. Yet, as it ever had been, there was only one comfortable chair near the fire. “And the drugs and herbs the Queen mentioned?”
Chade gave me a sidelong glance. I thought I detected some wariness in the look. “I do not think we will need them. She refers to several scrolls within the Skill collection. There are teas and tinctures that are suggested for Skill students who seem to have difficulty attaining a receptive state. We had considered using them on Prince Dutiful but had decided to postpone it until we were sure they are necessary.”
“Galen never used any herbs when he was instructing us.” I brought a tall stool from the workbench and set it opposite Chade’s chair. I perched on it. He settled in his chair, but then had to look up at me. I suspect it annoyed him. He sounded peevish when he spoke.
“Galen never used any herbs when he was instructing you. Did you never suspect that perhaps the others in your Skill coterie received special attentions that you were not privy to? I did. Of course, we will never be certain of that.”
I shrugged my shoulders to that. What else could I do? It was years ago and they were all dead, several of them at my hands. What did it matter now? But the thoughts had stirred my old aversion to the Skill. From anticipation, I had shifted suddenly to dread. I changed the subject. “Did you find out for me who gave the cat to the Prince?”
Chade looked startled at my abrupt shift. “I yes, of course. Lady Bresinga of Galeton and her son Civil. It was a birthday gift. The cat was presented to him in a little jeweled harness with a leash. The animal was about two years old, a long-legged stripy creature with a rather flat face and a tail as long as the rest of it. I understand those cats cannot be bred, that a kitten must be taken from a wild den before its eyes have opened if anything is to be made of it. It is an exotic coursing animal, suited to solitary hunting. The Prince took to it immediately.”
“Who took the kitten from the den?” I asked.
“I have no idea. Their Huntsman, I imagine.”