It was an awkward business to mount Myblack whilst keeping my knife a threat to the Prince, but we managed it. Dutiful was almost too cooperative a victim; I feared Laudwine would see. I would have given much, just then, for the Prince to have been trained in Skilling. Our thread of joining was too fine for me to know his thoughts, nor did he know how to focus his mind towards mine. All I could sense was his anxiety and determination. Determination to do what, I could not divine. Myblack was not pleased with the doubled burden she had to carry, and my heart misgave me. Not only did I risk making her injury worse, or permanent, but if it became necessary to flee, she would already be weary and sore. Every hitch of Myblack’s limp was a rebuke to me. But I had no alternatives. We rode, following Laudwine, and his companions closed in around us. They did not look well disposed towards me. I recognized a woman from our brief battle. I did not see either of the men I had fought. The Prince’s former companions showed no evidence of sympathy or friendship for him now. He did not seem to see them, but rode looking forwards with the point of my knife pressed high against his ribs.
We turned back and cut across the hillsides, past the barrow and towards the forest. The land we crossed hummocked oddly, and I soon decided that many years ago, a town of some sort had stood here. Meadow and woods had taken the land again, but land that has borne the plough ever after lies flatter. Moss had coated the stony walls that had once divided pastureland, and grass grew upon that, amidst the thistle and bramble that seem to love such stony places. No one lives forever; the walls seemed to say. Four stones stacked atop one another will outlive all your dreams and still stand when your descendants have long forgotten that you lived here.
Dutiful was silent as we rode. I kept my knife at his ribs. I do believe that if I had felt the woman take over his body, I would have pushed the blade home. His mind seemed far away. I used the time to assess our captors. There were an even dozen, including Laudwine.
We came at last to a cave cut into the side of a hill. Long ago, someone had added stone walls to extend the space. The remnants of a wooden gate hung drunkenly to one side. Sheep, I thought. It would be a good place to hold sheep at night, with the cave for shelter if rain or snow came too strong. Myblack lifted her head and gave a whinny of greeting to Malta and the three other horses tethered there. I made it fifteen of them, a respectable force to take on, even if there had been more than one of me.
I dismounted with the others and pulled the Prince down after me. He staggered as he landed on his feet and I caught him. His lips were moving as if he whispered to himself, but I heard nothing. His eyes seemed glassy and distant. I set the knife firmly to his throat. ‘If she tries to take him before the others are freed, I’ll still kill him,’ I warned them. Laudwine looked surprised by my threat. Then, ‘Peladine!’ he bellowed. In reply, a hunting cat came bounding out of the cave. She fixed me with a hateful stare. Her slow advance towards me was the angry step of a thwarted woman, not a cat’s stalk.
The Prince had dropped his gaze to the cat. He said nothing, but I felt the ragged sigh of his breath as it escaped him. Laudwine advanced to the cat and then went down on one knee to speak quietly to her. ‘I’ve struck a bargain,’ he told her quietly. ‘If we let his friends go free, he gives us the Prince unscathed. More, he escorts you back to Buckkeep and helps you become accepted there.’
I don’t know if some sign of affirmation passed between them, or if Laudwine simply assumed her consent. When he stood, he spoke more loudly. ‘Inside. Your companions are there.’
I was horribly reluctant to follow him into that cave. Out in the open, we had some small chance of escape. Inside, we would be cornered. The only thing I could promise myself was that they would not get Dutiful. To cut his throat would be the work of an instant. I was not so certain I could give myself a quick death let alone Nighteyes or the Fool.
Within the cave, a small fire burned, and my stomach complained at the smell of roasting meat. A camp of sorts had been pitched there, but to my eyes it had the look of a brigands’ den rather than a military encampment. The thought warned me that I should not be entirely confident that Laudwine had control of his people. Because they followed him did not mean they were subject to him. That cheery thought was entertaining me as I searched the shadowy interior of the cave while Laudwine was quietly conferring with the folk he had left on guard there. He had not placed anyone in charge of us. All eyes were on him, and I eased away from the crowd. A few noticed my movement, but no one protested it. Jinna’s charm still rode outside my shirt and I smiled disarmingly. Obviously, I was going deeper into the cave, not trying to escape to the outdoors. It was another indication of how informal Laudwine’s command was. My fear that the Piebalds were some sort of Witted army dissolved into a sickening suspicion that they were actually a Witted mob.
My heart found my friends before my eyes. I saw two huddled shapes on the floor in the back of the cave. I did not ask permission. With my knife at Dutiful’s throat, I walked us to them.
Towards the back of the cave, the ceiling dropped and the rock walls narrowed. In that little space, they slept. Their bed was the Fool’s cloak, or what remained of that fine garment. Nighteyes sprawled on his side, caught in the sleep of exhaustion. The Fool lay beside him, his body curled protectively around the wolf’s. They were both filthy. The Fool had a strip of bandaging tied around his brow. The gold of his skin had gone sallow and one side of his face was marred with bruises. Someone had taken his boots, and his narrow, pale feet looked bruised and vulnerable. The wolf’s throat was matted with blood and saliva, and his breathing had a whistle in it.
I wanted to drop to my knees beside them, but I feared to take my knife from Dutiful’s throat.
‘Wake up,’ I bade them, quietly. ‘Wake up, you two. I’ve come back for you.’
The wolf’s ears flicked, and then he opened an eye to me. He shifted, trying to lift his head and the stirring woke the Fool as well. He opened his eyes and stared at me, unbelieving. Despair dragged at his face.
‘You have to get up,’ I warned him quietly. ‘I’ve struck a bargain with the Piebalds, but you’ll have to get up and be ready to move. Can you walk? Both of you?’
The Fool had the owlish look of a child awakened in deep night. He sat up stiffly. ‘I … what sort of a bargain?’ He looked at the charm at my throat, made a small sound, and deliberately pulled his eyes away. Hastily I tugged my collar closed. Let no charm cloud his mind now, no artificial affection make him reluctant to leave when he could.
Laudwine was coming towards us, Dutiful’s hunting cat at his side. He did not look pleased that I had managed to talk to his captives without him present. I spoke quickly, letting my voice carry to him. ‘You two go free or I kill the Prince. But once you are free, the Prince and I will follow. Trust me.’
And my time to speak to them alone had gone. The wolf sat up ponderously, levering himself off the floor. When he stood, his hindquarters swayed and he staggered a step sideways before he recovered. He smelled foul, of old blood and piss and infection. I did not have a hand free to touch him. I was too busy threatening Dutiful’s life. He came to lean his bloodied head against my leg, and our thoughts flowed in the contact. Oh, Nighteyes.
Little brother. You lie.
Yes. I lie to them all. Can you get the Scentless One back to Buckkeep for me?
Probably not.
It eases my heart to hear you say that. It’s so much better than ‘we’ll all die here.’
I would rather stay and die beside you.
I would rather not witness that. It would distract me from what I must do.