Golden Fool
Page 221

 Robin Hobb

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Chade smiled almost guiltily. “Well. A double relief. To hear you speak truth to me, and to let me know that . . . well. I’ve known the Fool a long time. I value him. But there is still about him a strangeness, even when he masquerades as Lord Golden, that can make me uneasy at times. He knows too much, it sometimes seems, and at other times, I wonder if the things that matter to us concern him at all. Now that I have experienced the Skill a bit, and realized how open it makes us to one another . . . well. As you say, reticence and secrecy become a habit. A habit we both must preserve if we are to live. I am as reluctant to make the Fool privy to all my secrets as I am to share his.”
His honesty jolted me, and his opinion confounded me. And yet, he was right. It felt good to know there was honesty between us. “I will speak to Lord Golden myself about what place he holds in our coterie,” I said. “Much depends on what he is willing to do. No one can be forced to aid us.”
“Yes. And patch this foolish quarrel between you at the same time. Being in the same room with you two is as comfortable as standing between two snarling dogs. Who knows who will get bitten when they finally decide to rush one another?”
I ignored that. “And you will join us in the Skill tower for our lessons?”
“I will.”
I waited, then decided that this too was a thing that must be spoken openly. “And your private Skill experiments?”
“They will go on,” he said quietly. “As they must. Fitz, you know me. And you know the pattern of my years. Always I have learned alone and quietly, and always when I discovered a thread of learning that I felt I must possess, I pursued it ardently. Do not ask me to change that now. I cannot.”
And I truly believe he spoke the truth there, also. I sighed heavily, but did not dare try to forbid it to him. “Go carefully then, my friend. Go very carefully. The currents are strong and the footing treacherous. If you are ever swept away . . .”
“I’ll be careful,” he said. And then he left me, and I crawled into the bed that was now more mine than his, and dropped into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Chapter XXII
CONNECTIONS
Your estimation of the funds needed for this journey has fallen far short of the reality; nor would I have undertaken this inquiry if I had fully known about the foul weather, foul food, and fouler people who inhabit these islands. I shall expect exceptional remuneration when I return.
I succeeded at last in visiting your demon-blasted island. Securing passage to visit that piece of ice and rock took the last of my insufficient funds, plus a day’s labor of my stacking salt cod for a foul-tempered sea-bitch. The boat offered was leaky and unwieldy, of a kind I have never before seen and without proper oars. It was a miracle that I was able to navigate the icy waters to reach Aslevjal. Once there, I landed on a black and rocky shore. The glacier that once covered the entire island right down to the tide line seems to have retreated. An abandoned dock and pilings are visible, but all pieces that were easily scavenged are gone. The beach gives onto a wasteland of black stone. Tiny pockets of soil support little more than moss and scrubby grasses. There may have been crude buildings here at some time, but like the docks, anything usable was taken. Stone quarrying has evidently taken place here in the past, but from the look of the place, the efforts have been abandoned for at least a decade. Immense blocks of stone were cut and lined up end to end as for an immense wall, but it is a wall that begins and ends with a single run of blocks. Apparently efforts were made to chisel this run of stone into some sort of a horizontal statue, but the attempt was abandoned before it was even a quarter finished. It was impossible for me to discern what it was meant to be.
I walked as much of the beach as was bared and ventured briefly onto the glacial ice before nightfall caught me there. I saw no dragon, neither alive nor trapped in ice, nor anything even remotely resembling a live creature. I groped my way back to the beach and spent an icy night sheltered behind the stone blocks. Not a scrap of driftwood could I find for a fire. I slept poorly, being troubled by horrendous dreams in which I was one of a mob of Six Duchies folk trapped in a dreadful stone prison. When dawn came, I was thankful to leave. Any others who venture here should take care to bring with them everything to supply their needs, for this island certainly offers nothing to a man.
— REPORT TO CHADE FALLSTAR, UNSIGNED
Restoring my scars had delayed the recovery of my strength. For the next three days, I withdrew into myself and focused solely on regaining my health. I slept and ate and slept again. I remained in the workroom. Chade himself brought meals to me. They followed no regular schedule, but he brought ample quantities of food when he did come, and I had the hearth for making tea or heating soup so it mattered little to me.