So simply was I cut free from the hunt. Obedient to my master, wheeled Myblack and touched heels to her. I put two rolling hills .between the hunting party and us before I reached out cautiously to Nighteyes. I come.
Better late than never, I suppose, was the grudging reply. I pulled in my horse and sat still. Wrongness flooded me. closed my eyes, and saw through the wolf's. It was a nondescript area, just like every hill and dale I had ridden through that morning. Oak trees in the draws and dusty scrub brush and yellow grass on the hillsides. But I knew where he was somehow and how to get to where he was. It was as Nighteyes described it: I knew where I itched before I scratched. I also knew, without his telling me, that there was a reason for his stillness. I quested toward him no more, but simply put heels to Myblack and leaned forward to urge her on. She was a runner for level terrain, not these rolling hills, but she did well enough. I soon looked down on the dale where I knew Nighteyes waited.
I longed to rush straight down to him. His stillness was as ominous as flies buzzing around blood. I forced myself to cut a wide path around the dale and go slowly, reading the ground and breathing deep for any scents that might linger. I found the tracks of two shod horses, and a moment later cut the same tracks going in the opposite direction. Horses had come and gone from the copse of oak trees, and not long ago. I could restrain myself no longer. I rode into the welcoming shade of the trees as if I were running my head into a snare. Nighteyes. Here. Hush.
He lay, panting heavily, in the dry shade of the oaks. Old leaves were stuck to the bloody gashes on his muzzle and flank. I flung myself from my horse and ran to him. I set my hands to his coat and his thoughts flowed silently into mine in the quietest possible sharing of the Wit. They worked together against me.
The boy and the cat? I was surprised that he was surprised at that. The boy and the cat were Witbonded. Of course they would act together.
The cat and the horseman who brought the horses. I was watching the boy up the tree the whole while. sensed nothing from him, not even that he called to the cat for help. But just after dawn broke, the damned cat attacked me. Dropped right out of a tree onto me, and I hadn't even known she was coming. She must have traveled tree to tree like a squirrel. She clung like a burr. thought I was winning when I flung her to the ground, but she wrapped her front paws around me and tried to disembowel me with her hind claws. Nearly succeeded, too. Just then, the man came up with the horses. The boy climbed down into the saddle, and then like a flash the cat was on the horse behind him. They galloped off and left me here.
Let me see your belly.
Water, first, before you poke at me.
Myblack annoyed me by dancing away from me twice before I caught her reins. I tied her securely to a bush after that, and then brought both water and food to Nighteyes. I let him drink from my cupped hands, and then we shared the food between us. I wanted to wash the blood from the gashes I could see, but I knew he wouldn't allow it. Leave them to close themselves. I've already licked them clean.
At least let me see the ones on your belly.
He was not happy about it, but he Complied. The damage was much worse there, for the cat had obviously pulled him close, and his belly lacked the thick fur that had somewhat protected his back. They were not clean slashes, but jagged tears that were already festering. The only good aspect was that the claws had not penetrated the wall of his belly. I had feared to see bulging entrails; all I saw was lacerated flesh. I cursed myself for not having any salve to comfort the wounds. It had been too long since I had had to worry about things such as this; I had grown careless in the precautions I took.
Why didn't you call for me to come and help you?
You were too far away to get here in time. And uneasiness tinged his thoughts I thought they wanted me to call you. The man on the big horse and the cat. They listened, as if my call to you were game they sought to beat out of hiding.
Not the Prince.
No. My brother, there is something very strange here. He was surprised when the horseman came with the extra mount. Yet sensed the cat was not, the cat expected the man and the horses. The Prince does not perceive all that his bondpartner does. He goes blindly into his bond. It is ... uneven. One commits and the other accepts the commitment, but does not return it in full. And the cat is ... wrong.
He could make it no clearer than that to me. I sat for a time, my fingers buried deep in his coat, pondering what to do next. The Prince was gone. Someone he had not summoned had arrived to carry him away from Nighteyes, at precisely the moment that the cat was diverting the wolf. Carry him away to where?
I chased them for a time . But it is as you said. cannot keep up with a running horse anymore.
You never could.
Well. Neither could you. You couldn't even keep up with a running wolf for long.
True. That's very true. I smoothed his coat, and tried to pluck a dead leaf from one of his scabs.
Leave that alone! I'll bite your hand off! And he could have. Fast as a snake, he seized my wrist in his jaws. He squeezed it, then let me go. It isn't bleeding, so leave it alone. Stop picking at me and go after them.
And do what?
Begin by killing the cat. It was a vindictive suggestion with no heart in it. He knew as well as I did what it would do to the Prince if we killed his bondanimal.
I do. A pity he does not share your scrupks about killing your bondbrother.
He doesn't know you are bonded to me.
They knew I was bonded to somebody, and would have liked to discover just whom. That knowledge did not dissuade them from hurting me. I sensed his thoughts racing ahead of mine, pondering a situation I had not deciphered yet. Be careful, Changer. recognize this pattern of old. You think this is a game of some kind, with limits and rules. You seek to bring the Prince back as a mother carries an errant cub back to the den. You have not even considered that you might have to injure him, or kill the cat, to do so. Even farther from your thoughts is that they might kill you to prevent you from taking the Prince back. So I change my advice to you. Do not go after them now, alone. Give me until this evening to get past my soreness. And when we track them, let us take the Scentless One with us. He is clever, in a human sort of way.
Do you think the Prince has that in him? To kill me before letting me take him back to Buckkeep? The thought appalled me. Yet, I had been younger than Prince Dutiful when I first killed on Chade's orders. I had not especially enjoyed it, but I had not deeply pondered the right or wrong of it. Chade was my conscience then, and I had trusted his discretion. I wondered. Was there such a person in the Prince's life, someone whose counsel was enough to make him suspend his own judgment?
Stop thinking that you are dealing with a young prince. You are not. Nor is it the cat we must fear. This is something deeper and stranger, my brother, and we are best to go very, very carefully.
He drank the rest of my water. Then I left him there under the oaks, though I did not like to. I did not attempt to follow their trail, but returned to the Bresinga manor at Galeton, found the feather case, and rode back to the hunt. They had moved on, but it was easy enough to track them. When I presented the case to Lord Golden, he observed, “You were a long time bringing it, Badgerlock.” He looked round at his hunting companions and added, “Well, at least it is not as I had feared. I almost thought you had taken my words to mean that you must bring the case, even if you had to go all the way to Buckkeep Castle for it.” There was a general laugh at my supposed dullness.
I bobbed my head in docile agreement. “My apologies, master, for the delay in finding it. It was not where I expected it to be.”
He accepted my apology with a nod, then handed me the case again. “Collect the feathers from Huntswoman Laurel. See that you put them in carefully.”
Laurel had a substantial handful of feathers. The red case opened like a book. Within, the case was lined with felted wool to cushion the feathers against hurts. I held the case while she carefully arranged each feather in its place. The other hunters rode on, seeming to pay no attention to us. “The cats hunt well?” I asked as she positioned feathers.
“Very well. They are amazing to watch. I had seen the Prince's mistcat hunt before, but this is my first experience of gruepards. They have set the cats twice on birds and once on hares since you left us.”
“Think you they will hunt much longer?”
“I doubt it. Lord Golden confided that the midday sun is too harsh on his skin and may give him a headache. I think they will turn back soon.”
“That would suit me well, also.” The others were now a distance away from us, talking amongst themselves. She closed the feather case and handed it back to me. We rode side by side until we caught up with the hunting party. She turned in her saddle to look at me and met my eyes as she said, “Last night, Tom Badgerlock, you looked a different man. You should take more care with your daily appearance. The effect is well worth your effort.”
Her words left me speechless. She smiled to see me struck dumb, then left me behind with the other attendants as she spurred her horse forward to ride at Lord Golden 's stirrup. I do not know what words, if any, passed between them, only that soon the hunting party decided to return to Galekeep. The game bags were heavy, the beat of the sun overhead was becoming oppressive, and the cats seemed irritable and less interested in the hunt.
This being so, the nobles turned their horses and set spurs to them, hastening back to the welcome cool of Galekeep's thick stone walls. The rest of us followed as best we might. Myblack easily kept their pace, though I had to ride in their dust.
The nobility retired to their chambers to wash the dust away and don fresh clothing while others cared for their sweated horses and cranky cats. I followed Lord Golden as he strode ebulliently through the halls. I hastened to open the door for him, and then to shut it behind us after he had passed through. I fastened the latch quietly.
I turned to find him already laving the dust from his face and hands. “What happened?” he asked me. I told him.
“Will he be all right?” he asked anxiously. “The Prince? I hardly know.” “Nighteyes,” the Fool clarified impatiently. “As well as he may be. I'll take him more water and meat when I return. He was in pain but not like to die of his injuries.” Though I had not liked the look of the inflamed scratches. The Fool almost seemed to answer my thoughts. “I've a salve that may soothe his hurts, if he will let you use it.”
I had to smile. “I doubt that he will, but I will be glad to take it all the same.”
“Well. There but remains for me to manufacture a reason for the three of us to depart Galekeep immediately after lunch. We dare not let his trail grow cold. Nor do I think it likely that we will be returning here.” As he spoke, he was changing his jacket, brushing dust from his trousers, and wiping a cloth over his boots. He considered his reflection in the mirror, then hastily ran a brush through his fine hair. The pale strands floated after the brush and clung to it. The shorter pieces at his temples stood out like a cat's whiskers. He exclaimed in annoyance, and refastened the heavy silver clip that he used to secure his hair at the base of his neck. "There. That will have to do. Pack us up, Tom Badgerlock.
Be prepared to leave by the time I return from my meal." And he was gone.
There was fruit and cheese and bread on the table from the night before. The bread was a bit stale but I was hungry enough that it did not matter. I ate as I hastily packed my own things. Lord Golden's wardrobe presented me with more problems. I could not recall how he had fit so much clothing into such a small bag. At length, I managed to cram it all in, though I wondered what the fine shirts would look like when they emerged again.
The midday meal was still in progress when I finished. I took advantage of that and slipped down to the kitchen for cold beer and spicy sausages. My old skills served me in good stead, for when I left several thick slices off a cold joint were concealed in the breast of my servant's tunic.
I returned to our rooms and spent the early afternoon impatiently awaiting Lord Golden's return. I longed to reach for the wolf, and dared not. Every passing moment might be carrying the Prince farther away. The afternoon was flowing away from me. I flung myself down on my bed to wait. Despite my anxiety, I must have dozed off.
I awoke to Lord Golden opening the door. I rolled from the bed to my feet, feeling sodden with sleep yet eager to leave. He shut the door behind him and in response to my look, replied grimly, “It is proving socially difficult to extricate us. There were guests at today's luncheon, and not just those we hunted with. The Bresingas seem determined to exhibit me to all their wealthy neighbors. They have planned dinners and teas and more hunts with half the countryside in attendance. I have been unable to invent a pressing enough reason for us to leave. This is damnably inconvenient. Would that I could go back to my motley and a more honest form of juggling and ropewalking.”
“We're not leaving yet,” I observed stupidly.
"No. There is a large dinner in my honor this evening. For us to abruptly leave before that would be insult. And?
when I hinted that I might have to cut my visit short and leave tomorrow morning, I was told that Lord Crias from across the river had planned a morning hunt for me, and an afternoon repast at his manor."
“They delay you on purpose. The Bresingas are involved in the Prince's disappearance. I am sure they provided food for him and the cat last night. And Nighteyes is certain that the cat who attacked him is aware he is bonded to someone. They tried to flush me out.”
“Perhaps. But even if we were sure, I could scarcely fling accusations about. And we are not positive. Perhaps they but seek social advancement at Court, or to show me their various marriageable daughters. I gather that is why the girl was at dinner last night.”
“I thought she was Civil's companion.” “She was at great pains during the hunt to tell me that they were childhood friends with absolutely no romantic interest in one another.” He sighed and sat down at the small table. “She told me that she too collects feathers. Tonight after dinner she wishes to show me her collection. I am certain it is an invention to spend more time with me.” Had my own needs not been so pressing, I would have smiled at his dismay.
“Well, I shall have to deal with it as best I may. And perhaps it can even be turned to our advantage, now that I think of it. Oh, I've an errand for you. It seems that while we were hunting today, I lost a silver chain. At lunch I noticed it was missing. It is one of my favorites. You will have to retrace our steps and see if you can find it. Take your time.”
As he spoke, he drew a necklace from his pocket, wrapped it in his kerchief, and handed it to me. I pocketed it. He opened his clothing case, shot me an accusing look at the compressed jumble inside it, and then fished about until he discovered the pot of salve. He handed it to me. “Shall I lay out your clothing for dinner before I go?” He rolled his eyes mockingly at me as he drew a crumpled shirt from his clothing bag. "I think you've already done jsê
enough for me, Badgerlock. Just go.“ As I moved toward the door, his voice stopped me. ”Does the horse suit you?"
“The black is fine,” I assured him. “A good healthy beast and fleet, as we proved. You chose a good horse.”
“But you would rather have chosen your own mount.”
I nearly said yes. But then, as I considered it, I realized that was not true. If I had been choosing the horse, I would have sought for a companion to bear me through the years. It would have taken me weeks, if not months, to select one. And now that I was reluctantly confronting the wolf's mortality, I felt a strange hesitance to offer that much of myself to an animal. “No,” I replied honestly. “It was much better that you chose one for me. She's a good horse. You chose well.”
“Thank you,” he said quietly. It seemed to matter to him a great deal. If the wolf had not been waiting, it would have given me pause.
The Tawny Man 2 - Golden Fool
The Tawny Man 2 - Golden Fool