‘Not from you, but I’ll need Swift for a time.’ I had expected the look of dismay the boy gave me. It didn’t dampen my resolve. I took coin from my purse. ‘Go to the market. I have no idea what you’ll find there. Be very polite, but get us something to eat. Meat and vegetables for a soup. Fresh bread if they have it. Fruit. Cheese, fish. Whatever this will buy.’
By his face, he was torn between nervousness and a boy’s eagerness to explore a new place. I set the money on his palm and hoped the Outislanders would accept Six Duchies coins.
‘Then,’ I added, and saw him wince. ‘Go back to the ship. Riddle will see to our chests, but I want you to get extra bedding from the bunks there. Enough to make up pallets for you and me, as well as extra blankets for Thick.’
‘But, I’m to stay in the mothershouse, with the Prince and Web and all …’ His voice dribbled away in disappointment as I shook my head.
‘I’ll need you here, Swift.’
He glanced at Web as if seeking his support. The Witmaster’s face remained calm and neutral. ‘Are you sure there is no way I can be of assistance?’ he asked me again.
‘Actually,’ and I was suddenly almost frozen by how difficult it was to ask, ‘if you wouldn’t mind coming back later, I’d enjoy a few hours to myself. Unless the Prince needs you elsewhere.’
‘I will do that. Thank you for asking.’ His second comment was genuine, not an idle courtesy. I let a moment pass in silence as I handled his words. He praised me for finally being able to ask a favour of him. When I met his eyes, I realized how long that silence had been but his face was as calm and patient as ever. Again I had that feeling he was stalking me, not as a hunter stalks prey but as a trainer befriends a wary animal.
‘Thank you,’ I managed.
‘And perhaps I’ll accompany Swift to the market, for I am as curious to see this town as he is. I promise we won’t dawdle, however. Do you think a sweet pastry might tempt Thick to eat, if we chanced upon a bakery?’
‘Yes.’ Thick’s voice was wavering as he replied, but I took heart from this show of interest. ‘And cheese,’ he added hopefully.
‘Pastries and cheese should probably be what you look for first,’ I amended. I turned to Thick with a smile but his eyes wandered away from me. I was still unforgiven for forcing him aboard the ship. I knew I’d have to do it at least two more times, for our journey back to Zylig and then for the ship that would take us to Aslevjal. I could not make myself face the thought of the eventual journey home. It seemed hopelessly far away now.
Web and Swift left, the boy chattering happily and the man responding as eagerly. In truth, I was relieved to see them go together. A boy in a strange town might easily give unintentional offence or be in danger. Nonetheless, I felt abandoned as I watched them walk away.
I backed away from the gulf of self-pity that beckoned me by putting my mind on the folks I cared about. I tried not to wonder what had befallen Hap or the Fool since I had left Buckkeep Town. Hap was a sensible lad. I had to trust him. And the Fool had managed his own life, or lives, for many years with no help from me. Yet it still made me uncomfortable to know that somewhere back in the Six Duchies, he was probably furious at me. I caught myself tracing the silvery fingerprints his Skill-touch had left on my wrist. I had no sense of him, but nonetheless put both my hands behind my back. I wondered again what he had said to Burrich, or if he had seen him at all.
Useless thoughts, but there was little else to occupy me. Thick watched me as I drifted idly around the small cottage. I offered him a dipper of cold water from the cask, but he refused it. I drank, tasting the difference of this island in its water. It tasted mossy and sweet. Probably pond water, I thought. I decided to build a small fire on the hearth in case Web and Swift brought back uncooked meat.
Time passed very slowly. Riddle and another guardsman came with our trunks from the ship. I took brewing herbs from my trunk. I filled the heavy kettle and set it on the hearth to heat, more to be doing something than because I wanted a cup of tea. I mixed the herbs to be sweet and calming, chamomile and fennel and raspberry root. Thick watched me suspiciously when I poured the hot water, but I didn’t offer him the first cup. Instead I put a chair by the window where I could look out over the sheep on the grassy hillside above the town. I drank my tea and tried to find the satisfaction I had once taken in peace and solitude.
When I offered Thick the second cup, he accepted it. Perhaps my drinking the first one had reassured him that I didn’t intend to drug or poison him, I thought wearily. Web and Swift returned, their arms full of bundles and the lad’s cheeks pink from the walk and fresh air. Thick slowly levered himself to an upright position to eye what they had brought. ‘Did you find a strawberry tart and yellow cheese?’ he asked hopefully.
‘Well, no, but look what we did find,’ Web invited him as he unloaded his trove onto the table. ‘Sticks of smoked red fish, both salty and sweet. Little rolls of bread, with seeds sprinkled on top. And here’s a grass basket full of berries for you. I’ve never seen any like this. The women called them mouse-berries, for the mice stuff their tunnels full of them to dry for the winter. They’re a bit sour, but we did find some goat-cheese to go with them. These funny orange roots they said to roast in the coals and then eat the insides with salt. And lastly, these, which aren’t as hot as when we bought them but still smell good to me.’
The last items were pastries about the size of a man’s fist. Web carried them in a sack of twisted and woven grass lined with wide fronds of seaweed. As he set them out on the table, I smelled fish. The pasties were stuffed with chunks of white fish in rich and greasy gravy. It heartened me when Thick tottered out of his bed to come to the table for one. He ate one hurriedly, pausing only when his coughing fits forced him to, and a second one more slowly, with another cup of tea to wash it down. He coughed so heavily and for so long after his tea that I feared he was choking, but at last he took a deeper breath and looked round at us with watery eyes. ‘I’m so tired,’ he said in a trembling voice, and no sooner did Swift help him back to bed than he nodded off to sleep.
Swift had enlivened our meal with his discussion of the town with Web. I had kept quiet while we ate, listening to the boy’s observations. He had a quick eye and an inquisitive mind. It seemed that most of the market-folk had been friendly enough after they’d seen his coins. I suspected that Web’s genial curiosity had once more worked for him. One woman had even told him that the morning’s low tide would be a good time for gathering the sweet little clams from the beaches. Web mentioned this, and then wandered into a tale of clamming with his mother when he was a youngster, and from there to other tales of his childhood. Both Swift and I were fascinated by them.
We shared another mug of the tea I’d made, and just as the afternoon began to seem companionable and pleasant, Riddle arrived at the door. ‘Lord Chade sent me to say you’re to go up to the mothershouse for a welcome,’ he announced from the door.