Fool’s Fate (Tawny Man Trilogy Book Three)

It was good fortune that brought us dragons on the Prince’s wedding day, but Nettle’s inspiration that the tribute Tintaglia had demanded so imperiously be referred to as the Dragon’s Feast. Hapless steers, beribboned with blue streamers, were penned not far from the Witness Stones, awaiting their fate. Tintaglia and Icefyre were not present for the ceremony itself, which was just as well. The well-wishers who came to witness the Prince and Elliania make their vows in the centre of the Witness Stones crowded both hillsides. The couple was splendid in blue and white. They stood in the centre of the stones under a serendipitously blue sky and spoke their promises loudly and clearly.

I was amongst the guards who stood in a line to keep an area near the cattle-pens cleared for the dragons. They appeared as small jewels in the sky just as the Prince had finished his promises to his bride and his dukes. They flew nearer, and the crowd oohed and aahed as if they were an acrobatic troupe brought especially for their pleasure. The dragons grew larger and even larger and soon we had no problems in keeping an area cleared for them to alight as people began to realize the size of the creatures that were approaching. A hush came over the crowd as it became apparent that Tintaglia fled the ardently pursuing Icefyre. Above the Witness Stones, they wheeled and cavorted and mock-battled, swooping low enough that the wind of their wings tousled hair and flapped scarves. Together they soared, gleaming black and silvery blue, up in an abrupt, almost vertical climb and then Icefyre lunged and caught his mate. They coupled in a display of wanton lust that delighted the gathered witnesses as a good omen for their prince and new princess. No one with even a drop of the Skill in them could have been completely immune to the passions of those great beasts. It infected the crowd with a wave of both sentiment and amorousness that made that evening’s festivities a night long and fondly remembered by many.

The dragons cared little for any of that. They coupled several times, with loud trumpeting and mock challenges to one another, and then fell on the bullocks with a zeal for feeding that was horrifying to witness. The pens did not hold the panicky cattle and one guardsman was trampled and several dozen onlookers sent scrambling for safety before Tintaglia and Icefyre completed their slaughter and settled in to feeding. That was bloody and messy enough that even those who had stayed behind to watch the dragons kill the cattle decided to go back to the castle, or to watch from a safer distance.

Yet even though the dragons paid little attention to the occasion, their presence was a triumph for our prince. Before the dukes dispersed to their separate duchies, they met and agreed to recognize Dutiful as King-in-Waiting. It was an end to Dutiful’s quest worthy of any minstrel’s song, and many were made about it, and sung often in the days to come. The feasting and rejoicing in Buckkeep Castle went on for a full twenty days until the onset of wintry weather convinced the nobility that they ought to seek their own keeps and holdings before travel became completely unpleasant. The castle settled back, very gradually, into a routine. Yet for all that winter, it remained a livelier place than it had in many a year. The King-in-Waiting and his young bride attracted not just the youthful nobility of the Six Duchies, but the younger kaempra of the Out Islands. Alliances were made that had nothing to do with trade, and wedding plans set that spanned the two countries. Among those who announced their intentions were Lord Civil and Lady Sydel.

Yet it was a time of departures, too. I made farewell to Hap and his master, for they would follow their lord back to his keep for the winter. My boy seemed genuinely happy, and if I was not pleased to part with him, I was pleased that he had found a choice that gave him so much satisfaction. Web took Swift off with him, saying it was time the boy got out and met more of his own folk, to understand better all the nuances of the Wit and to make him appreciate the necessity of using it with discipline. My declaration of love for his mother had raised a new wall between Swift and me. I was not sure it was one I could soon breach, and yet I felt better knowing that I had spoken honestly to him. Web tried to talk me into going with them, saying that I too would benefit, but I begged off yet again, promising that truly, truly, one day I would make time. He smiled, and reminded me that no man could make time, but only use that which he was given wisely. I promised him I’d try to do that, and waved them farewell from the gates of Buckkeep.

The dragons departed with the first frost, and we were not sorry to bid them farewell. They were each capable of eating a couple of cattle a day. Nettle warned us early in their visit that if we did not supply them willingly, they would likely take whatever they fancied. Our herds and flocks were well culled before the chill of winter drove them south. I was amused one night to become aware of Nettle and Tintaglia in dream-talk. Nettle dream-rode with Tintaglia. She flew slightly behind Icefyre, heading south as they flew through the night. The sweep of cool wind, the stars overhead and the rich smells of the slumbering earth below were intoxicating.

And beyond that desert, you will find some of the richest, fattest herds in this part of the world. Or so I have heard. Nettle was casual with her recommendation.

Desert? Dry sand? I have been longing for a good dust bath. Wet sand clings beneath my scales, and water cannot polish old blood from one’s scales like sand does.

I think you will find much there to your liking. I have heard that the cattle of Chalced are easily twice the size of what we raise here, and so fat that the meat catches fire if you try to cook it over an open flame.

Nettle’s dream was rich with the smell of roasting meat and dripping fat. It almost made me hungry. I have never heard of the cattle of Chalced being exceptionally fat or large, I objected.

We were not conversing with you, Nettle pointed out severely. And what I know of Chalced, I know from my father’s stories of that place. I think they would profit much from a visit from hungry dragons. And then she tumbled me out of her dream and I awoke on the floor by my bed.

Dutiful, Chade, Nettle, Thick and I continued to meet in early mornings to study and expand our understanding of the Skill. Nettle was courteous, but spoke to me only as it was necessary. I did not push against that wall, either, but instructed Dutiful, Thick and her as a group. Soon my paltry advantage over them was apparent, and we proceeded to learn as a coterie. What we learned from the recovered scrolls made us go more slowly rather than more quickly for it rapidly became apparent that we wielded our magic like a boy wields a sword, with little understanding of either the danger or the potential of it. Chade desperately wished to experiment with the Portal Stones, as we began to call them. The Elderling cities and their hints of both treasure and secrets enticed him. Only the extreme aversion that both Thick and I evinced toward them convinced him that he should wait until he had a better mastery of the magic before attempting such a thing.