I went to my midday meal full of dread for what must come. I sat on the dais with the other nobility and ate with them, and at the close of the meal, Riddle invited me to ride out with Nettle and him that afternoon. His eyes were kind, his mouth reserved. I accepted with formal courtesy, and then was trooped back to my room by Lady Simmer. Caution had set out appropriate clothing. My riding garments were green and yellow, Withywood colours. It made me consider how I fitted into the Farseer hierarchy.
I descended, resigned to a gaggle of folk to accompany us. But not even the nurse and the baby were there, and Riddle dismissed all the grooms, even Per who had been loitering hopefully nearby. Riddle tossed me up onto my horse without ceremony, and Nettle mounted hers without anyone so much as touching her elbow. We left at a sedate walk that turned into a canter as soon as we were out of the gates of Buckkeep. We did not speak as we rode, but gave the horses a good gallop on a trail through a forest that led to a secluded glen near a stream. Here we dismounted and let the horses water. And Nettle said, ‘I know that you visit Lord Thick every night. You must know it is not appropriate to be running about the keep in your nightgown.’
I bowed my head and tried to look startled.
‘Well?’ she demanded.
‘He is my friend. He is teaching me to make Skill-music. We play with his cat. He has nice things to eat. That is all.’
‘And you have learned to erect such Skill-walls that I can barely find you during the day.’
I kept my eyes on the grassy sward. ‘It is to keep the music in. He says we must not make the music too loud, for then the apprentices cannot sleep well.’
‘Will you lower your walls and let me hear the music you have learned?’
It was a test. Did I trust her enough to lower my walls, so that she might see the truth of what I had told her? If I refused … No. There was no refusing this. I dropped my walls. I felt her mind touch mine. I began the purring-cat music.
Wolf Father slammed into my awareness with such force that I sat down flat on the grass. We must get to the queen!
Queen Elliania knows of you? I felt dazed, as if the air had been knocked out of me. I could hear Nettle exclaiming and Riddle suddenly knelt beside me, but I knew the wolf was more important. ‘How are you here, when my father is dead?’ I asked him.
‘What did she say?’ Nettle asked Riddle in alarm.
He isn’t dead. Not yet. And I need to get to the queen, the one who hunted with me. Queen Kettricken. I wish to bid her farewell.
Farewell?
Yes. I felt him hide something from me. Wolf Father was very like my other father.
Very well. I will do my best. I looked up at Riddle and Nettle. There was no simple way to explain it. I would not even try. ‘I am not ill. Nighteyes has come to me. I must see Queen Kettricken right away. My father is not dead. Nighteyes wishes to bid her farewell.’ The next words came out strangled. ‘I think they are dying somewhere.’
Riddle crouched before me. He put his hands on my shoulders. ‘Explain more. From the beginning.’
I could feel the wolf’s clawing panic. I tried. ‘Sometimes, when my father could not be with me, Wolf Father would come. Into my mind. Nighteyes. I know you know who he was! He was Wit-bonded to my father, and after he died, he lived inside my father.’
I looked from one concerned face to the other. Surely they must have known this. They were looking at me as if I were mad.
‘When I was taken, Wolf Father went with me. He tried to help me, to warn me or give me ideas of what to do. But sometimes, if my walls were too tight, he could not speak to me. When I saw my father, Nighteyes went back to him. And just now, when I dropped my walls for Nettle, he came to me again. And he says he must see Lady Kettricken. Because my father is dying.’ I shook my head and demanded aloud of Nighteyes, ‘How can my father be dying when Beloved said he was dead? Why would he lie to me? Why would he leave my father alone and dying?’
He didn’t die, Bee. But alone, he will not last much longer. He believes he can rest and be well enough to come home. I know he cannot. He must stay there. It is time for us to carve our dragon.
‘Bee!’
What?
‘Bee. Answer me. Are you Witted?’ Nettle demanded.
‘No. I don’t think so.’ I hesitated. It seemed such a random question as I strove to understand what Nighteyes had told me. ‘I don’t know. Cats talk to me but they talk to everyone, or anyone who will listen. But this is not the Wit. I don’t think it’s the Wit. He is my Wolf Father. Please! Let me go to Kettricken. It’s important!’
Nettle put her hands on my shoulders. She spoke slowly. ‘Bee. Our father is dead. It’s hard to accept and even I want to pretend it’s not true. But he’s dead. The Fool told us all. He was trapped under a fallen timber, and he had bled heavily from a sword slash. He gave to the Fool his last strength. So he could save you. Our father could not have survived, let alone escaped.’
‘I wouldn’t bet money on that,’ Riddle said grimly. ‘Not until I see his body. Come. We need to return to Buckkeep.’
‘To the healers?’ Nettle asked doubtfully.
‘To Lady Kettricken,’ Riddle asserted. ‘Nettle, I know you must doubt this. But we must act as if it were true! We go to Kettricken, to ask what she thinks. And then we will make that other decision.’
‘To Kettricken,’ she agreed reluctantly.
The old queen had not been well before she received the news of my father’s death. On the way to her chambers, Nettle told me that some of the healers felt that news had been the tipping point for her. ‘I dread this,’ Nettle said to Riddle. ‘Might we not be bringing more distress into her life when she is already frail?’
‘I do not think “frail” is the best word to apply to her. I think she is resigned, Nettle.’
I had met with Kettricken only that one awkward time since our return. She had been truly ill that day, and full of sadness. Her rooms had been curtained and close. This day, we were admitted to a chamber where the window stood ajar and the sunlight flooded the room. It was a simple room, sparsely furnished. There were chairs to sit on, and a low table, and little else. A vase almost as tall as me held an arrangement of reeds and rushes. That was all. The flagged floor was scrubbed and bare.
Lady Kettricken entered without ceremony shortly after a servant had shown us into the room and announced us. Her grey hair was braided and coiled about her head. She wore a long, straight, pale-blue cotton robe, belted at her waist, and soft slippers. No jewellery did she wear, nor paint on her face. She could have been any old woman at a market. She regarded us with calm blue eyes. The closest she came to a complaint was to say, ‘This is a sudden visit.’
I found I was smiling at her, delighted. I almost wriggled. No. Nighteyes within me was delighted. I took a deep breath of the air, seeking her familiar scent. ‘You still walk like a forest hunter, light of foot and steady-eyed,’ I told her.
‘Bee!’ Nettle rebuked me.
But Lady Kettricken had only a puzzled smile for me. ‘Please, sit,’ she bade us, and there was only a slight hitch of stiffness as she lowered herself to a seat. ‘I am pleased to see all of you. Should I ring for refreshments for us?’