I had sought in vain for another opportunity to speak to Molly alone. Always, she seemed surrounded by her children. Slowly it came to me, sitting there alone by my fire, that they were a part of her. Likely there would be very little chance of finding her alone and apart from them. The opportunity I had so long denied myself was here and now, but rapidly slipping away from me.
The next morning, on the eve of the wedding, I went to the steams early in the day. I washed myself and shaved more carefully than I had in years. Back in the tower room, I brushed my hair back into a warrior’s tail, and then took out the selection of clothing that the Fool had inflicted on me. I dressed slowly in the blue doublet and the white shirt, finishing it with the Buck blue leggings. I was now definitely a Buckman, but no longer looked like servant or guardsman. I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled ruefully. Patience would approve. I looked dangerously like my father’s son. I dared myself, and then moved the silver fox pin from the inside of my doublet to the outside. The little fox winked at me and I smiled back.
I left the secret labyrinth and walked through the corridors of Buckkeep Castle. Several times I felt eyes on me, and once a man stopped dead before me and squinted at me with a frown, as if struggling to remember something. I passed him by. The castle was acrawl with hastening servants and nobles socializing with one another. I made my way to the Violet Chamber and knocked firmly.
Nettle opened the door. I had not been prepared for that, thinking that young Chivalry would have been the first I must confront. She stared at me, and then recognized me with a visible start. She said nothing until I asked, “May I come in? I would speak to your mother and brothers.”
“I don’t think that’s wise. Go away,” she said, and began to shut the door, but Chivalry caught the edge of it, asking her, “Who is it?” and then, in an aside to me, “Don’t mind her, sir. Dress of a lady and manners of a fishwife.”
The room seemed full of children. I had never before realized how many seven children were. Swift and Nimble were sitting on the floor by the hearth, a game of Stones spread out before them, with Steady watching the play. Swift looked up, saw me, and his mouth opened in an O of surprise. I saw his twin poke him, demanding, “What is it? It’s your turn.” Hearth and Just, wrestling on the bed, ignored me. I suddenly realized the size of the promise that Burrich had demanded of me; it was easily seven times what Chivalry had asked of him when he handed me over to his right-hand man to raise. The blankets were rucked about by the tussling youngsters on the bed and the candelabrum on the night table was in obvious danger of being overset. And then, before Nettle could shut the door on me or Chivalry invite me in, Molly entered from the adjoining chamber. She halted, staring at me.
I think she would have thrown me out if she’d had the chance. Hearth stood up on the bed and made a spring for his brother, who evaded him by rolling away. I took two swift steps and caught the six-year-old before he hit the floor. He wriggled away from me immediately, charging back into battle with his brother. They suddenly reminded me of a litter of puppies, and I smiled as I said, “I promised Burrich that I would look after his sons. I can’t do that if I don’t know them. I’ve come to introduce myself.”
Swift stood up slowly to face me. The question in his eyes was plain. I took a breath. I found my answer. Yes. “My name is FitzChivalry Farseer. I grew up in the stables of Buckkeep. Your father taught me all things he thought a man should know. I would pass that on to his sons.”
Chivalry had caught Nettle’s uneasiness, and the name unsettled him even more. He moved to put his body between the smaller children and me. It was so instinctive of him that I had to smile, even when he said, “I think I can pass my father’s teachings on to my brothers, sir.”
“I expect that you will. But you will have other things to think of, as well. Who cares for your stock and stables right now, when you are all away?”
“Oxworthy. A man from our village who used to come to help out with the heavy work from time to time. He can manage it well enough, for a few days, though I will have to return to our holdings right after the Prince’s wedding.”
“It’s not his business!” Nettle interjected indignantly.
I knew I had to face her down or let her drive me off. “I made a promise, Nettle. Swift witnessed it. I do not think your father would have asked that of me unless he wished the raising of his small sons to be my business. That sets it out of your hands.”
“But not out of mine,” Molly interjected firmly. “And for many reasons, I think this unwise.” I took a breath and steeled my will. I turned to look at Chivalry. “I love your mother. I have for years, for years before she chose your father. Yet I promise you, I will not try to take his place with any of you. Only to do what he asked of me. To look after you all.” I looked back at Molly. Her face was so white I thought she would faint. “No secrets,” I told her. “No secrets among us.”
Molly sat down heavily on the bed. Her two youngest boys immediately came to her, Hearth climbing into her lap. She put her arms around him reflexively. “I think you had better go,” she said faintly. Steady came to his mother and put a protective arm around her.
Swift stood suddenly. “No secrets? Will you tell them you are Witted, then?” It was a challenge. I smiled at him. “I believe you just did that for me.” I took a breath and looked at Nettle. “I will also be instructing your sister in the Skill.” At Chivalry’s blank look, I said, “The King’s magic, the old magic. She has it. She talks with dragons. You should chat with her about it sometime. It was why she was first brought here to Buckkeep, to serve her prince. I believe your father had some ability in the Skill for he served as King’s Man to King-in-Waiting Chivalry. The man for whom your eldest brother is named.”
Swift was staring at me uncertainly. “Web said we were not to speak of who you really were. That there were still some who’d like to see you dead. That your life was in our hands.”
I bowed to him. “Yes. I put my life in your hands.” I looked at Nettle and added, “If you’d truly like to be rid of me, it would be fairly simple for you.”
“Please, Fitz.” Molly sounded desperate. “Go. I need to speak to my children privately. I wish you had not given such a heavy secret to my younger ones. I scarcely trust them to wash their necks each day, let alone to preserve such a confidence.”
I felt a bit foolish then, and I bowed, saying only, “As you will, Molly,” and left. I got five steps past the closing of the door before my knees began to shake so badly that I had to lean up against the wall for a moment. A passing servant asked me if I was ill, but I assured her I would be fine. Yet as I found my strength and walked away down the corridor, I wondered if I would be.
Then Nettle’s sudden Skilling hit me with the force of a mallet. The dragons are coming! Tintaglia bids us have live meat waiting for them, in the “customary” place!
It was good fortune that brought us dragons on the Prince’s wedding day, but Nettle’s inspiration that the tribute Tintaglia had demanded so imperiously be referred to as the Dragon’s Feast. Hapless steers, beribboned with blue streamers, were penned not far from the Witness Stones, awaiting their fate. Tintaglia and Icefyre were not present for the ceremony itself, which was just as well. The well-wishers who came to witness the Prince and Elliania make their vows in the center of the Witness Stones crowded both hillsides. The couple was splendid in blue and white. They stood in the center of the stones under a serendipitously blue sky and spoke their promises loudly and clearly.
I was amongst the guards who stood in a line to keep an area near the cattle pens cleared for the dragons. They appeared as small jewels in the sky just as the Prince had finished his promises to his bride and his dukes. They flew nearer, and the crowd oohed and aahed as if they were an acrobatic troupe brought especially for their pleasure. The dragons grew larger and even larger and soon we had no problems in keeping an area cleared for them to alight as people began to realize the size of the creatures that were approaching. A hush came over the crowd as it became apparent that Tintaglia fled the ardently pursuing Icefyre. Above the Witness Stones, they wheeled and cavorted and mock-battled, swooping low enough that the wind of their wings tousled hair and flapped scarves. Together they soared, gleaming black and silvery blue, up in an abrupt, almost vertical climb, and then Icefyre lunged and caught his mate. They coupled in a display of wanton lust that delighted the gathered witnesses as a good omen for their prince and new princess. No one with even a drop of the Skill in them could have been completely immune to the passions of those great beasts. It infected the crowd with a wave of both sentiment and amorousness that made that evening’s festivities a night long and fondly remembered by many.