I am no better than any other man. There was bitterness in me, and anger at both of them, and the stark loneliness of how fate had betrayed us all. I could not blame them for turning to each other. Neither did I blame myself for the anguish I felt that by that act, they had excluded me forever from their lives. It was done, and over and regrets were useless. The dead, I told myself, have no rights to regret. The most I can claim for myself is that I did walk away. I did not let my pain poison their happiness, or compromise my daughter’s home. That much strength, I found.
I drew a long breath and found my voice again. ‘And that is the end of my tale, Fool. Next winter caught us here. We found this hut and settled into it. And here we have been ever since.’ I blew out a breath and thought over my own words. Suddenly none of it seemed admirable.
His next words rattled me. ‘And your other child?’ he asked quietly.
‘What?’
‘Dutiful. Have you seen him? Is not he your son, just as much as Nettle is your daughter?’
‘I … no. No, he is not. And I have never seen him. He is Kettricken’s son and Verity’s heir. So Kettricken recalls it, I am sure.’ I felt myself reddening, embarrassed that the Fool had brought this up. I set my hand to his shoulder. ‘My friend, only you and I know of how Verity used me … my body. When he asked my permission, I misunderstood his request. I myself have no memory of how Dutiful was conceived. You must recall; I was with you, trapped in Verity’s misused flesh. My king did what he did to get himself an heir. I do not begrudge it, but neither do I wish to remember it.’
‘Starling does not know? Nor even Kettricken?’
‘Starling slept that night. I am sure that if she even suspected, she would have spoken of it by now. A minstrel could not leave such a song unsung, however unwise it might be. As for Kettricken, well, Verity burned with the Skill like a bonfire. She saw only her king in her bed that night. I am certain that if it had been otherwise …’ I sighed suddenly and admitted, ‘I feel shamed to have been a party to that deception. I know it is not my place to question Verity’s will in this, but still …’ My words trickled away. Not even to the Fool could I admit the curiosity I felt about Dutiful. A son, mine and not mine. And as my father had chosen with me, so had I with him. To not know him, for the sake of protecting him.
The Fool set his hand on top of mine and squeezed it firmly. ‘I have spoken of this to no one. Nor shall I.’ He took a deep breath. ‘So. Then you came to this place, to settle yourself in peace. That is truly the end of your tale?’
It was. Since the last time I had bid the Fool farewell, I had spent most of my days either running or hiding. This cottage was my selfish retreat. I said as much.
‘I doubt that Hap would see it that way,’ he returned mildly. ‘And most folks would find saving the world once in their lifetime a sufficient credit and would not think to do more than that. Still, as your heart seems set on it, I will do all I can to drag you through it again.’ He quirked an eyebrow at me invitingly.
I laughed, but not easily. ‘I don’t need to be a hero, Fool. I’d settle for feeling that what I did every day had significance to someone besides myself.’
He leaned back on my bench and considered me gravely for a moment. Then he shrugged one shoulder. ‘That’s easily done, then. Once Hap is settled in his apprenticeship, come find me at Buckkeep. I promise, you’ll be significant.’
‘Or dead, if I’m recognized. Have not you heard how strong feelings run against the Witted these days?’
‘No. I had not. But it does not surprise me, no, not at all. But recognized? You spoke of that worry before, but in a different light. I find myself forced to agree with Starling. I think few would remark you. You look very little like the FitzChivalry Farseer that folk would recall from fifteen years ago. Your face bears the tracks of the Farseer bloodline, if one knows to look for them, but the court is an in-bred place. Many a noble carries a trace of that same heritage. Who would a chance beholder compare you to; a faded portrait in a darkened hall? You are the only grown man of your line still alive. Shrewd wasted away years ago, your father retired to Withywoods before he was killed, and Verity was an old man before his time. I know who you are, and hence I see the resemblance. I do not think you are in danger from the casual glance of a Buckkeep courtier.’ He paused, then asked me earnestly, ‘So. I will see you in Buckkeep before snow flies?’
‘Perhaps,’ I hedged. I doubted it, but knew better than to waste breath arguing with the Fool.
‘I shall,’ he decided resolutely. Then he clapped me on the shoulder. ‘Let’s back. Supper should be ready. And I want to finish my carving.’
TEN
A Sword and a Summons
Perhaps every kingdom has its tales of a secret and powerful protector, one that will rise to the land’s defence if the need be great and the entreaty sincere enough. In the Out Islands, they speak of Icefyre, a creature who dwells deep in the heart of the glacier that cloaks the heart of Island Aslevjal. They swear that when earthquakes shake their island home, it is Icefyre rolling restlessly in his chill dreams deep within his ice-bound lair. The Six Duchies legends always referred to the Elderlings, an ancient and powerful race who dwelt somewhere beyond the Mountain Kingdom and were our allies in times of old. Only a king as desperate as King-in-Waiting Verity Farseer would have given such legends not only credence, but enough importance that he left his legacy in the care of his ailing father and foreign queen while he made a quest to seek the aid of the Elderlings. Perhaps it was that desperate faith that gave him the power not only to wake the Elderling-carved stone dragons and rally them to the Six Duchies’ aid, but also to carve for himself a dragon body and lead them to defend his land.