“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 bidden 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 inbred 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 go back. Supper should be ready. And I want to finish my carving.”
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 defense if the need be great enough and the entreaty sincere enough. In the Out Islands, they speak oflcefyre, 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 icebound 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 KinginWaiting 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 Elderlingcarved 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.
The Fool stayed on, but in the days that followed, he studiously avoided any serious topics or tasks. I fear I followed his example. Telling him of my quiet years seemed to settle those old ghosts. I should have been content to slip back into my old routines but instead a different sort of restlessness itched. A changing time, and a time to change. Changer. The Catalyst. The words and the thoughts that went with them wound through my days and tangled my dreams at night. I was no longer tormented by my past somuch as taunted by the future. Looking back over what I had made of my own youth, suddenly found myself much concerned for how Hap would spend his years. It suddenly seemed to me that I had wasted all the years when I should have been preparing the lad to face a life on his own. He was a goodhearted young man, and I had no qualms about his character. My worry was that I had given him only the most basic knowledge of making his way in the world. He had no specialized skills to build on. He knew all that he needed to know to live in an isolated cottage and farm and hunt for his basic needs. But it was the wide world I was sending him into; how would he make his way there? The need to apprentice him well began to keep me awake at night.
