The Fool lifted his shoulders and shook his head. ‘What do any of us know of dragons? How long had the stone dragons slept before Fitz woke them? If they share any of their natures with true dragons, then perhaps some spark of life still glows within Icefyre.’
‘What do you know of Icefyre?’ Chade demanded suspiciously. He came back to the table and sat down. I remained standing, watching the two of them.
‘I know no more of him than you do, Chade.’
‘Then why forbid us the taking of his head, when you know the Narcheska has demanded this as a condition of the marriage? Or do you think the world would be set into a better path if our two realms remained at each other’s throats for another century or two?’
I winced at his sarcasm. Never would I have mocked the Fool’s stated goal to change the world. It shocked me that Chade did, and made me realize the depth of his antagonism.
‘I’ve no love of strife, Chade Fallstar,’ the Fool replied softly. ‘Yet even a war amongst men is not the worst thing that can occur. Better war than that we do deeper, graver damage to our world itself. Especially when we have the briefest grasp at a chance to repair an almost irreparable wrong.’
‘Which is?’
‘If Icefyre lives … and I concede it would be surpassing strange if he did … but if there is some spark of life in him yet, we must abandon all other quests to free him from the ice and restore him to full life.’
‘Why?’
‘You haven’t told him?’ He swung an accusing gaze to me. I didn’t meet it and he didn’t wait for me to reply. ‘Tintaglia, the Bingtown dragon, is the sole adult female dragon in the world. With every passing year, it becomes more apparent that the young ones which emerged from their cases will remain stunted and weak, unable to hunt or fly. Dragons mate in flight. If the hatchlings never fly, they can never mate. Dragons will die out in the world. And this time, it will be forever. Unless there remains one fully-formed male dragon. One who could rise to mate Tintaglia and sire a new generation of dragons.’
I had told Chade all those things. Did he ask his question to test the Fool’s frankness?
‘You are telling me,’ Chade enunciated carefully, ‘that we must put peace between the Out Islands and the Six Duchies at risk for the sake of reviving dragons. And this will benefit us how?’
‘It won’t,’ the Fool admitted. ‘On the contrary. It will present many drawbacks for men. And many adjustments. Dragons are an arrogant and aggressive species. They ignore boundaries and have no concept of ownership. If a hungry dragon sees a cow in a pen, he’ll eat it. To them, it’s simple. The world provides and you take what you need from it.’
Chade smiled archly. ‘Then perhaps I should do the same, on behalf of humanity. The world has provided us a time free of dragons. I think I shall take it.’
I watched the Fool. He was not upset by Chade’s words. For the space of two breaths he held his peace. Then he said, ‘As you will, sir. But when the time comes, that decision may not be yours. It may be mine. Or Fitz’s.’ As Chade’s eyes blazed with anger, he added, ‘And not only the world but humanity itself does need dragons.’
‘And why is that?’ Chade demanded disdainfully.
‘To keep the balance,’ the Fool replied. He glanced over at me, and then past me, out of the window and his eyes went far and pensive. ‘Humanity fears no rivals. You have forgotten what it was to share the world with creatures as arrogantly superior as yourselves. You think to arrange the world to your liking. So you map the land and draw lines across it, claiming ownership simply because you can draw a picture of it. The plants that grow and the beasts that rove, you mark as your own, claiming not only what lives today, but what might grow tomorrow, to do with as you please. Then, in your conceit and aggression, you wage wars and slay one another over the lines you have imagined on the world’s face.’
‘And I suppose dragons are better than we are because they don’t do such things, because they simply take whatever they see. Free spirits, nature’s creatures, possessing all the moral loftiness that comes from not being able to think.’
The Fool shook his head, smiling. ‘No. Dragons are no better than humans. They are little different at all from men. They will hold up a mirror to humanity’s selfishness. They will remind you that all your talk of owning this and claiming that is no more than the snarling of a chained dog or a sparrow’s challenge song. The reality of those claims lasts but for the instant of its sounding. Name it as you will, claim it as you will, the world does not belong to men. Men belong to the world. You will not own the earth that eventually your body will become, nor will it recall the name it once answered to.’
Chade did not reply immediately. I thought he was stunned by the Fool’s words, his view of reality reordered by them. But then he snorted disdainfully. ‘Pish. What you say only makes it plainer to me that no good will be worked for anyone by resurrecting this dragon.’ He rubbed his eyes wearily. ‘Oh, why do we bother with this fatuous debate? None of us knows what we will find when we get there. It’s all philosophical ramblings and nursery tales at this point. When I confront it, then I will think about what is best to do. There. Does that satisfy you?’
‘I scarcely believe that my satisfaction matters to you.’ And as he spoke those odd words, the Fool sent a sidelong glance my way. But it was not a look to catch my eye, but rather one that pointed me out to Chade.
‘You’re right,’ Chade agreed smoothly. ‘It is not your satisfaction, but Fitz’s agreement that matters to me. Yet I know that if this decision falls to him alone, he would give your satisfaction much weight, even, perhaps, at the risk of Farseer fortunes.’ My old master gave me a speculative look, as if I were a spavined horse that might or might not last through another battle. The smile he gave me was almost desperate. ‘Yet I hope he will hear my concerns as well.’ His gaze met mine. ‘When we confront it, then we will decide. Until then, the choice remains open. Is that acceptable?’
‘Almost,’ the Fool replied. His voice was cool as he proposed, ‘Give us your promise, as a Farseer, that when the time comes, Fitz may do as his judgment bids him.’
‘My promise as a Farseer!’ Chade was incensed.
‘Exactly,’ the Fool replied calmly. ‘Unless your words are just an empty sop thrown to keep Fitz on the path to doing your will.’ He leaned back in his chair, his wrists and hands lax on the arms of it, perfectly at ease. For a moment, I recognized that slender man in black with his shining hair bound back. This was the boy the Fool had been, grown to a man. Then he turned his head to regard Chade more directly, and the familiarity was gone. His face was a sculpted silhouette of determination. I had never seen anyone challenge Chade so confidently.