“Fitz,” Chade said quietly. “Perhaps some more elfbark in that mix.”
Before I could move, Perseverance was on his feet. He brought the teapot to Lant, took the cup from his hand, and added the elfbark brew. Lant was sitting very still. Chade still stood behind him. He leaned down and said quietly, “Son, take the cup. And drink it.”
A peculiar pang passed through me. It could not have been jealousy.
Lant did as his father told him. This time, his expression scarcely changed as he set the cup back down. “I’ve never been a fighter. You know that. You both know that!” His admission sounded more like an accusation. Then his voice dropped. “I’m just not. A friendly bout, with practice blades, on a summer day with a friend and comparing bruises later is one thing. But when I went running back, the door had already given way. I saw Revel stagger past me, holding his gut. And one of the lads was on the floor in a pool of blood. The other youngster was trying to hold them off with his belt-knife. The first man through the door laughed, and cut his head off. And then it was only me in the hall, facing first one, then three, and then at least six of them. I tried to fight. I did. I was shouting for help and I tried to fight, but this wasn’t fencing, man against man. There were no rules! I engaged with one man, and a second stepped forward. I managed to hold my own but the entry hall is wide. The invaders just went around us, and I heard them running down the halls behind me. And I heard screams, and things breaking. And the man in front of me suddenly laughed.”
He looked down suddenly.
I hazarded a guess. “A man behind you attacked you? He knocked you unconscious?”
“No. No one touched me. I dropped my sword to the ground. And the two men I’d been fighting just stood and laughed at me. One gave me a hard push as I walked by him, and I didn’t care. And I walked outside and stood in the snow in front of the manor. And I still don’t know why.”
Skill-suggestion? Chade’s thought brushed lightly against mine.
I nodded, unwilling to make the effort to do more. To Skill to him, I’d have to drop my walls and let in that fog of forget, forget, forget. I would not forget. “Don’t worry about what you don’t know,” I suggested gently. “It’s obvious magic was at work. You had no way to resist it. Just tell us what you do know.”
“Yes,” he said unwillingly. But he was shaking his head no.
“Do you want more of the elfbark?” Chade asked.
“No. I remember what happened that day, and on the days since. I don’t understand it, but I recall it. I’m just ashamed to speak it aloud.”
“Lant, Fitz and I have both known our share of defeats. We’ve been burned, poisoned, beaten. And yes, we’ve been buffeted by Skill, made fools of, and done things we’re ashamed to admit. No matter what you did or didn’t do, we won’t think less of you. Your hands were bound, even if there was no rope you could see. If we are to rescue your sister and little Bee, you have to set your pride aside and just tell us what you know.”
Chade’s voice was comforting. A father’s voice. Something cynical inside me wondered if he would have been that forgiving of me, but I quenched it.
It took Lant a little time. He rocked in his chair once or twice, cleared his throat, and then said nothing. When he spoke again, his voice was higher and tighter. “I stood with the others out in the snow. People walked out of the manor and came and stood near me. There were a few men on horseback but I didn’t feel that they were keeping me there. I was afraid of them but mostly I was afraid to do anything except stay there with the others. No. Not afraid, not even reluctant. It just seemed that what I was doing was the only possible thing I could do. Everyone was there, milling about. Lots of people were weeping and agitated, but no one was talking to anyone else. No one resisted. Even the injured just stood and bled.” He paused again, his mind going back.
Bulen tapped on the door. “Sir? I am so sorry to disappoint you. I have been down to the cottages where the stableworkers live. No one there has any recollection of a lad named Perseverance or admits to being his family.”
I felt like a ninny. I looked at the boy. His eyes were dark with sorrow. He spoke softly. “It’s the third cottage. There is a hedge-witch charm over the door for good luck. And my grandfather made a doorknocker out of a cart horse’s shoe. My mother’s name is Diligent.”
Bulen was nodding. I amended his orders. “Do not make mention of her son at all. Tell her we wish to speak to her to see if she will take on some extra tasks in the kitchen.”
“Oh, she’d like that,” Perseverance said quietly. “She’s always after Da to build her an oven behind the cottage so she could bake whenever she wanted.”