‘I didn’t like that at all.’ His voice shook, and I knew instinctively that he was not speaking about the creature on the beach. Going through a pillar was a harrowing experience for an untrained mind. Regal had used the pillars recklessly in transporting his young Skill-users, little caring how many of them went mad from the process. I would not use my prince so recklessly. Except that I had no other choice, and no time.
‘I know,’ I said gently. ‘But we have to go now, before the tide comes in any deeper.’ He stared at me without comprehension. I weighed him keeping his sanity against what the woman might know through him. Then I threw that concern aside. He had to understand, at least a little, or I’d emerge from the pillar with a drooling idiot. ‘We have to go back to the pillar on the beach. We know it has a facet that will take us back to Buck. We’ll have to discover which one.’
The boy made a small retching sound. He hunkered down on the cobblestones, pressing the heels of his hands to his temples. ‘I don’t think I can,’ he said faintly.
My heart smote me. ‘Waiting won’t make it any better,’ I warned him. ‘I’ll hold you together as best I can. But we have to go now, my prince.’
‘That thing might be waiting for us!’ he cried wildly, but I think he feared the passage more than any lurking creature.
I stooped and put my arms around him, and although he struggled wildly, I dragged him back into the pillar with me.
I had never used a pillar twice in such swift succession. I was unprepared for the sharp sensation of heat. As we emerged, I accidentally snuffed warm seawater up my nose. I stood up, holding Dutiful’s head above water. The water around the pillar was seething with the heat from it. And the Prince had been right. As I held his lax body in my arms and shook water from my face, I heard startled grunts from the beach. Not one, but four of the ungainly creatures had congregated there. At the sight of us, they charged, hunching across the sand and into the waves. No time to think or look or choose. The Prince was limp and lolling. I clutched him to me, and risked dropping my Skill-walls to try to hold his mind intact. As an incoming wave drove me to my knees, I slapped a hand to the steaming surface of the Skill-pillar. It dragged me in.
The transit this time seemed unbearable. I swear I smelled a strange odour, oddly familiar and yet repulsive. Dutiful. Dutiful, prince. Heir to the Farseer throne. Son of Kettricken. I wrapped his tattering thoughts in my own and named him by every name I could think of.
Then came a moment he reached back to me. I know you. That was all I sensed from him, but after that, he held onto himself and to me. There was a queer passivity to our bond, and when at length we washed out onto green grass under a lowering sky, I wondered if the Prince’s mind had survived our escape from the treasure-beach.
TWENTY-FIVE
Ransom
By these signs may you know one who has the potential for the Skill:
A child who comes of Skilled parents.
A child who wins often at games of physical skill, and his opponents stumble, lose heart, or play poorly against him.
A child who possesses memories not rightfully his.
A child who dreams, and his dreams are detailed and contain knowledge beyond the child’s own experience.
Dun Needleson, Skillmaster to King Wielder
The barrow crouched on the hillside above us. It was raining, a misty but determined fall of water. The grass was deep and wet. I suddenly didn’t have the strength to stand by myself, let alone support the Prince. As one, we sank down until I knelt on the wet earth. I lowered his body to the sward. His eyes were open but they stared blindly. Only the rasping of his breath showed me he was alive. We were back in Buck, but our situation was only marginally better than when we had last left here.
We were both soaking wet. After a moment, I became aware of an odd smell and realized that the pillar behind us was radiating warmth. The smell was the dampness forced out of the stone. I decided I would rather be cold than get too close to it. The figurine still dangled from the chain tangled in the Prince’s fingers. I plucked it free, gathered up the chain, and put it inside my pouch. The Prince made no response to any of this. ‘Dutiful?’ I leaned closer and looked directly into his eyes. They didn’t focus on me. The rain was falling on his face and his open eyes. I tapped him lightly on the cheek. ‘Prince Dutiful? Do you hear me?’
He blinked slowly. It was not much of a response, but it was better than nothing.
‘You’ll feel better in a little while. Just rest here for a time.’ I wasn’t sure that was true, but I left him on the wet grass and climbed up on top of the barrow. I surveyed the surrounding lands, but saw no other humans. There wasn’t much of anything to see, just rolling countryside and a few copses of trees. A flock of starlings, wheeled in unison, and settled again, squabbling over feed. Beyond the wild meadow, there was forest. There was nothing that looked like an immediate threat, but nothing that looked like food, drink and shelter either. I was fairly certain that Dutiful would benefit from all three, and feared that without them he would sink further into unresponsiveness but what I needed was even more basic. I wanted to know if my friends lived. I wanted beyond all rationality to reach out for my wolf. I longed to howl for him, to put my whole heart into that questing. I also knew it was the most foolish and reckless thing I could do. It would not only alert any Witted ones nearby that I was here, it would also warn them that I was coming.
I forced order onto my thoughts. I needed a refuge, and quickly. It seemed likely to me that the woman and the cat would be constantly questing for the Prince. Even now, they might be coming for him. The afternoon was already venturing towards evening. Dutiful had told me the Piebalds would kill Nighteyes and the Fool at sunset if I had not returned him. Somehow, I must get the Prince to a safe place before the woman could find us, then slip off on my own to discover where the Piebalds held my friends and then free them. Before sunset. I racked my brain. The closest inn I knew of was The Piebald Prince. I doubted that Dutiful would get a fond welcome there. Yet Buckkeep was a long walk and a river fording away. I pondered but could think of no other refuge for him. In his present condition, I could scarcely leave him here alone, and another trip through a pillar would be the end of Dutiful’s mind, even if we emerged physically unscathed. I once more scanned the empty landscape. I reluctantly admitted that though I had choices, none of them were good. I abruptly decided that I would get us moving, and try to think of something better along the way.