“Are there no Skill-stones near Ringhill or Salter’s Deep?”
“That goes beyond irrational to plain stupidity. You cannot use the Skill safely for your own ends right now, let alone take troops through with you. The Ringhill Guard is a substantial force, and we have a Skilled journeyman among them. She will report to us everything that happens. Fitz, you know this is the best tactic. What could one man do against twenty Chalcedean mercenaries?” He paused, giving me an opportunity to agree with him. I could not. He sighed. “And looking at your face, I am glad to tell you that no, we know of no Skill-pillars that would shorten that journey.”
I stared at the map a moment longer. Then I looked out the window, over the vista where Verity had once scanned for his enemies. Salter’s Deep. I had to get there. Dutiful spoke behind me. “Fitz, you well know that a military campaign must be carried out with precision. Everyone follows orders. If each soldier did as he thought best, well. Then it’s a brawl. Not a battle plan.” He cleared his throat. “In this, I am in command. I have set it in motion. It needs to go as I have planned.”
“You are right,” I admitted. I didn’t look at him.
“Fitz. Must I remind you that I am your king?” Dutiful spoke the words gravely.
I met his eyes and spoke truthfully. “I am ever aware of that, my king.”
I had been outnumbered. Outmaneuvered. They’d withheld information from me. Worse, logic and rationality were on their side. They’d told no one who did not need to know. Their plan was good. I knew that they were right, if one considered only logic and rationality. Yet in my father’s heart, I knew they were wrong. It felt awful to stand before them and be lectured by my king and my daughter, to be told that the plan was already made and that my only real option was to fall in with it. I felt suddenly old, and stupid, and useless. The bruises I’d taken in my efforts to once more feel like a warrior, my muscles that screamed at me when I moved, all confirmed my incompetence. My softness. My age. I’d lost my daughter and Shine both by my failed ability to think three steps ahead. I could look back and see a dozen simple things I could have done that would have prevented the kidnapping. For days, I had been burning inside to make it right, to correct my mistakes and go forward and never, never again allow my little girl to fall into such danger.
And today, with the possibility of action dangled like fresh meat before me, I was instead told that others would rescue her and return her to me. Someone else would pick her up and hold her tight and tell her she was safe. Days later, she’d be returned to me, like a lost purse. I could sit home by the fire and wait for her. Or ride out with my guard to meet her rescuers.
I left them there on the tower top, dismissed to inform my small troop of new recruits and salvaged oldsters that we would be riding out on the morrow. I was allowed to tell them that we might actually encounter an enemy, but Dutiful and Elliania, Kettricken, and Nettle had decided that it would be best if alarm was kept at a low level in Buck Duchy until the matter had been settled. The Ringhill Guard was well trained and very experienced at dealing with the robber bands that sometimes plagued the king’s highway. They were the best men for the job. And if any escaped them, my guard would shortly arrive to tidy up any loose ends. The Chalcedeans would have to yield or fall as the jaws of the split force closed around them.
And my Bee would be caught there with them, in the teeth of those jaws.
I went to Chade. Had there ever been a time when I did not flee to him for advice? I tapped on his door, received no answer, and slipped quietly inside. To my disappointment, Steady was there, seated in a chair by the fireside, whittling at something and throwing the bits into the fire as he worked. He did not seem surprised to see me. Nettle had probably warned him I might be coming. “He’s asleep,” he said before I could ask.
“Has anyone told him that we think we know where Bee and Shine are? That we are going to try to recover them?”
He frowned. He was a member of the King’s Own Coterie. My news was no surprise to him, but perhaps he was surprised to discover that I now knew of it. He spoke softly. “I was told that all of it was to be kept secret. Surprising them is of the essence. As for Lord Chade, I am not sure he could mind his tongue. I do not think we should raise either hope or anxiety in him. We are trying to keep him peaceful and calm. Letting him gather himself.”