‘Oh. I went don’t see me, don’t see me at the others. It was easy.’ He resumed eating with pragmatic enjoyment of the food. He was obviously pleased with how clever he’d been. Between mouthfuls he asked, ‘How did you trick them into letting you stay?’
‘I didn’t trick them. I stayed because I had a task I had to do. I still do. They’ll be back for me in a fortnight.’ I put my head into my hands. ‘Thick. You’ve done me a bad turn. I know you didn’t mean to, but it’s bad. What am I going to do with you? What did you plan to do when you stayed here?’
He shrugged and spoke through the porridge. ‘Not get on a boat. That’s what I planned. What did you plan to do?’
‘I planned to go on a long walk, back to the icy place. And kill the Pale Woman if I could find her. And bring back Lord Golden’s body, if I could find it.’
‘All right. We can do that.’ He leaned forward and looked into the porridge pot. ‘Are you going to eat that?’
‘It seems not.’ My appetite had fled, along with all thoughts of peace. I watched him eat. I had two choices. I knew I could not leave him alone on the beach while I went off to hunt the Pale Woman. It would have been like leaving a small child to look after himself. I could remain here with him on the beach for a fortnight until the boat that Dutiful had promised to send back for me arrived. Then I could send Thick off with it, and try to resume my tasks. By then, autumn would be upon this northern island. Falling snow would join the blowing snow to obscure all signs of passage. Or I could drag him along with me, proceeding at his plodding, torturous pace, taking him into danger. And taking him, also, into a very private part of my life. I did not want him to be there when I recovered the Fool’s body. It was a task I wished and needed to do alone.
Yet there he was. Depending on me. And unwanted, there came to me the memory of Burrich’s face when I had first been thrust into his care. So it had been for him. So it was for me now. I watched him scraping the last of the porridge from the kettle and licking the sticky spoon.
‘Thick. It’s going to be hard. We have to get up early and travel fast. We are going up into the cold again. Without much fire, and with very boring food. Are you sure you want to do this?’
I don’t know why I offered him the choice.
He shrugged. ‘Better than getting on a boat.’
‘But eventually, you will have to get on a boat. When the boat comes back for me, I’m leaving this island.’
‘Nah,’ he said dismissively. ‘No boats for me. Will we sleep in the pretty tent?’
‘We need to let Chade and the Prince know where you are.’
He scowled at that, and I thought he might try to use the Skill to defeat me. But in the end, when I reached for them, he was with me, very much enjoying the prank he had played on them. I sensed their exasperation with him and their sympathy for me, but neither offered to turn back the ships. In truth, they could not. A tale such as they bore would not await the telling. Neither ship could turn back. For either the Prince or the Narcheska to be absent would not be acceptable to the Hetgurd. They must go on. Chade offered grimly to send back a boat for us the moment they docked in Zylig, but I told him to wait, that we would Skill to them when we were ready to leave. Not on a boat, Thick added emphatically, and none of us had the will to argue with him just then. I was fairly certain that when he saw me leave, he would depart with me. By then, he would probably be very weary and bored with survival here. I could not imagine him desiring to stay on the island alone.
And as the night wore on, I reflected that perhaps it was better for me that he was there, in some ways. When I bedded down in the Fool’s tent that night, Thick seemed an intruder there, as out of place as a cow at a harvest dance. Yet, if he had not been there, I know I would have sunk into a deep melancholy, and dwelt on all I had lost. As it was, he was a distraction and an annoyance, and yet also a companion. In caring for him, I did not have time to examine my pain. Instead, I had to create a pack for him with a share of supplies that I thought he could carry. Into his pack I put mostly warm clothing for him and food, knowing he would not abandon food. But as I prepared for sleep, I already dreaded the morrow and dragging him along with me.
‘Are you going to sleep now?’ Thick demanded of me as I pulled my blankets up over my head.
‘Yes.’
‘I like this tent. It’s pretty.’
‘Yes.’
‘It reminds me of the wagon, when I was little. My mother made things pretty, colours and ribbons and beads on things.’
I kept silent, hoping he would doze off to sleep.
‘Nettle likes pretty things, too.’
Nettle. Shame washed through me. I had sent her into danger and nearly lost her. And since that moment, I had made no effort to contact her. The way I had risked her shamed me, and I was shamed that I had not been the one to save her. And even if I’d had the courage to beg her forgiveness, I did not have the courage to tell her that her father was dying. Somehow, it felt like that was my fault. If I had not been here, would Burrich have come? Would he have challenged the dragon? This was the measure of my cowardice. I could go off, sword in hand, hoping to kill the Pale Woman. But I could not face the daughter I had wronged. ‘Is she all right?’ I asked gruffly.
‘A little bit. I’m going to show her this tent tonight, all right? She will like this.’
‘I suppose so.’ I hesitated, and then ventured one step closer. ‘Is she still afraid to go to sleep?’
‘No. Yes. Well, but not if I’m there. I promised her I wouldn’t let her fall in there again. That I’ll watch her and keep her safe. I go into sleep first. Then she comes in.’
He spoke as if they were meeting in a tavern, as if ‘sleep’ were a room across town, or a different village down the road. When he spoke again, my mind struggled to comprehend what the simple words meant to him. ‘Well. I have to go to sleep now. Nettle will be waiting for me to come for her.’
‘Thick. Tell her … no. I’m glad. I’m glad you can be there like that.’
He leaned up on one stubby elbow to tell me earnestly, ‘It will be all right, Tom. She’ll find her music again. I’ll help her.’ He took a long breath and gave a sleepy sigh. ‘She has a friend now. Another girl.’
‘She does?’
‘Um. Sydel. She comes from the country and is lonely and cries a lot and doesn’t have the right kind of clothes. So she is friends with Nettle.’