Fool's Errand
Page 154

The Tawny Man 2 - Golden Fool
The Tawny Man 2 - Golden Fool
The Tawny Man 1 - Fools Errand
Chapter XIX
THE INN
During the years of the Red Ship War, when Prince Regal the Pretender wrongfully claimed to be King of the Six Duchies, he introduced a system of justice he called the King's Circle. Trial by arms was not unknown in the Six Duchies. It is said that if two men fight before the Witness Stones, the gods themselves look down and reward victory to him whose cause is just. Regal took this idea one step further. In his arenas, accused criminals faced either his King's Champions or wild beasts. Those who survived were judged to be innocent of the charges against them. Many Wilted met their ends in those Circles. Yet those who died in these bloody trials were but half of the evil done there. For what was born in those same contests was a public tolerance of violence and mayhem that swiftly became a hunger. These trials became spectacle and amusement as much as judgment. Although one ofKettricken's first acts as Queen and Regent for young Dutiful was to put an end to such trials and have the Circles dismantled, no royal decision could quench the bloodlust that Regal's spectacles had awakened.
I awoke very early the next morning with a sense of wellbeing and peace. An earlymorning fog was in the process of burning off. Dew glimmered on my blanket. For a time I gazed unthinking at the sky through the oak branches overhead. I was in a state of mind in which the black pattern against the blue was all that I needed to satisfy me. After a while, when my mind insisted on recognizing the sight before me as tree branches against the sky, I came back to myself and where I was and what I must do.
I had no headache. could cheerfully have rolled over and slept most of the day away, but I could not decide if I was truly tired or simply wanted to return to the safety of my dreams. I forced myself to sit up.
Nighteyes was gone. The others still slept. I poked up the embers of the fire and fed it before it occurred to me that we had nothing to cook over it. We'd have to tighten our belts and follow the Prince and his companion. With luck, something edible would cross our path.
I drank from the stream and washed my face in the cool water. The day was already warming. As I was drinking, the wolf came back.
Meat? I asked hopefully.
A nest of mice. didn't save you any.
That's all right. I wasn't that hungry. Yet.
He lapped alongside me for a time, then lifted his muzzle. Where did you go last night?
I knew what he meant. I'm not sure. But it felt safe.
It was nice. I'm glad you can get to a place like that.
There was wistfulness in his thought. I looked at him more closely. For an instant, I saw him as another might. He was an aging wolf, gray on his muzzle, flesh sunken on his flanks. His recent encounter with the cat still hindered him. He ignored my concern to stare into the stream. Fish?
I let my annoyance seep into my thought. “Not a sign of one,” I muttered aloud. “And there should be. Plenty of plants, midges buzzing. There should be fish here. But there aren't.”
I felt his mental shrug at how life was. Wake the others. We need to get moving.
He did not want my worry. It was a useless burden to him, an anxiety not to be indulged. When I returned to camp, the others were already stirring. There was little to say. Lord Golden seemed to have recovered from his excesses. No one spoke about the lack of food. Dwelling on it would not change it. Instead, in a remarkably short time, we were in our saddles again and following the Prince's fading trail. He was moving steadily north. At noon, we found a campfire, the ashes gone cold. The area around the fire was well trampled, as if folk had camped there for several days. The mystery was easily solved. Two trees bore the mark of a picket line. Someone had waited here. When the Prince, the cat, and their companion arrived, they had departed together. North. Laurel and I debated the number of horses in the other party, and finally settled on four. They had picked up two more companions here.
We pressed on, increasing our pace as the multiple tracks were easier to follow. A high overcast came in, and then thickened into clouds. I blessed the dimming of the sun's harshness, but Nighteyes still panted as he kept pace with us. I watched him with growing concern. I longed to link more tightly with him, to be sure that he did not press on in spite of pain, but while Laurel rode with us, I dared not. As shadows lengthened and the day began to cool, we came out of the forest and looked down at a wide yellow road crossing our path. From the crest of a hill, we stared down at it with dismay. If the Prince and his fellows had chosen to follow it, tracking might become very difficult.
We reached the edge of the road. Their tracks merged with it. The wolf made a show of casting about, but without much enthusiasm. The Prince's trail mingled in the thick dry dust with old wagon tracks and softened hoofprints. Neither imprint nor scent would linger long. An afternoon breeze could erase all trace of their passage.