Fools Quest by Robin Hobb
The Buckkeep Guard admitted us without pause and we rode to the courtyard. There was a flurry around Nettle’s horse as servants emerged to welcome her home and all but carry her inside. I was dully surprised to find my Rousters standing in a row, holding their horses and waiting to be dismissed. I sent them off to their barracks and told them to report to Foxglove on the morrow. Time for Foxglove to integrate them, to change their livery and teach them discipline. I could not care about any of it.
I wondered why I had come back here. I wondered what would happen if I got back on the horse and rode away. How long would it take me to get to Clerres? I would travel fastest alone. The horse was tired. No supplies. That was not the way to do this. But how I longed to be that reckless boy again. I stood silent for a long time, aware that Riddle had come to stand beside me, but I didn’t turn to look at him.
He spoke quietly. “King Dutiful has summoned all of us to his private audience chamber. ”
There would be a royal rebuke for my disobedience. A report demanded. I did not care about any of it, but Riddle just stood there, a presence against my Wit-sense. I didn’t turn to him when I spoke. “I need to take care of the horse,” I said.
He was silent for a time and then said, “I’ll tell Nettle that you’ll be with us shortly. ”
I led the horse into the old stables. I didn’t even know his name. I found the empty stall between Fleeter and Priss, removed harness, hauled water, and found grain where it had always been kept. The stable girl named Patience came, looked at me, and then went away silently. No one else approached me until Perseverance appeared. He looked over the stall wall at me. “I should be doing that. ”
“Not this time. ” He was quiet, watching me do meticulously every small task one does when a hard-used horse is returned to a stable. I knew how his hands must itch to watch someone else take care of his animal. But I needed to do this. I needed to do at least this small task correctly.
“She goes like the wind. That Fleeter. The horse you loaned me. ”
“She does. She’s a good one. ” She was watching me over her stall door. I was finished. There was nothing more to do here. No more excuses for delay. I closed the stall door behind myself and wondered where I would go.
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“Prince FitzChivalry? Sir?” He spoke in a whisper. “What happened? Where is Bee?”
“Lost. Lost forever. ” I said aloud the words that had been echoing endlessly in my mind. “They took her into a Skill-pillar, boy. And they got lost in the magic. They never came out on the other side. ”
He stared at me. Then he lifted his hands to his head and seized two great handfuls of his own hair as if he would rip it out. He bowed his head to his chest. “Bee,” he said in a voice so tight it squeaked. “My little Bee. I was teaching her to ride. ”
I set a hand to his shoulder and he suddenly butted into me, hiding his face against me. “I tried to save her, sir!” It was a strangled cry, choked against my shirt. “I did, sir. I tried. ”
“I know, boy. I know you did. ” My back was to the stall wall. When my knees gave out, I slid down, to sit in the straw. Perseverance collapsed beside me. He curled up and wept ferociously. I sat wearily and patted him and wished that I could let my sorrow out as tears or sobs or screams. But it was a black poison that filled me up.
His horse looked over the stall and down at Per. He stretched his neck and whiffled the boy’s hair, then lipped at it. Perseverance reached up a hand. “I’ll be all right,” he told the horse in a dulled voice. The boy lied well. Fleeter reached for me.
Not now, horse. I can’t. Nothing left to give or share. I felt her bafflement. Don’t bond. If you don’t bond, you can’t fail. Not with Fleeter, not with Perseverance. Cut them off now before it got any deeper. It was the responsible thing to do.
I hauled myself to my feet. “I have to go,” I told the stable boy.
He nodded and I walked away. I hadn’t eaten, I hadn’t slept, and I hurt all over. I didn’t care. I entered by the kitchen door, as if I were still Nameless the dog-boy. I walked stolidly until I reached the door of Dutiful’s private audience room. Once it had been King Shrewd’s. Here judgment was passed and justice delivered to those of the nobler bloodlines. In older times, princes had been sent into exile from this room, and princesses found guilty of adultery and banished to distant keeps. What fate would Dutiful decree for me? I wondered again why I had come back to Buckkeep. Perhaps because thinking of something else to do was too difficult. The doors were tall, lovely panels of mountain oak. They were ajar. I pushed them open and walked in.
For all its gravitas, it was a simple room. An elevated chair, a stark judgment throne for the king or queen, presided over it. A lower chair beside it for any counselor the ruler might wish. Other chairs, of oak with straight backs, lined the walls for possible witnesses to the misdeed or those bringing the grievance. And in the center, a short wooden railing enclosed a low wooden block where the accused would kneel while awaiting his ruler’s judgment. The floor was bare stone, as were the walls. The only decoration was a large tapestry of the Farseer Buck that graced the wall behind the judgment seat. At the other end of the room, a fire burned in a large hearth, but it was not enough to banish the chill or dismiss the smell of disuse in the chamber.
They were waiting for me. Dutiful and Elliania, and the princes Integrity and Prosper. Nettle and Riddle. Kettricken, clad in simple black, her head cowled against the chill, looked older than when I had last seen her. Chade was seated, and next to him, in a heavy woolen shawl as if she would never be warm again, hunched Shine. She leaned on her father as if she were a child. Her cheeks, nose, and brow were still scalded red from the cold she had endured. Lant sat straight at Chade’s other side. Chade looked at me but his gaze betrayed nothing. Thick was there also, I noted, seated and looking about with round eyes. King Dutiful had not yet assumed the judgment seat, but he was formally attired and crowned. His queen Elliania had a fine scarf embroidered with narwhals and bucks over her head, and her crown upon that. She looked grave and ethereal. Nettle had changed her clothes but still looked cold and weary. Riddle, dressed in Buck blue with black trim, stood beside her. His arm sheltered her as I never had. Her brother Steady was beside her, as if to offer his strength.
I squared my shoulders, stood straight, and waited. I was surprised to hear someone else enter. I turned to see Hap, my foster son, dragging a wool cap from his head, his cheeks still red with cold. Swift entered on his heels, and his twin, Nimble, behind him. Must they, too, witness my disgrace and failure? Chivalry, Burrich’s eldest son, came in behind them. The page who had guided them up bowed deeply and then withdrew, shutting the doors behind him. No one had spoken. Chivalry looked at me with deeply grieved eyes before joining his siblings. Swift and Nimble had gone to Nettle’s side, to flank their sister. They huddled together. Hap looked at me but I would not meet his gaze. He hesitated, and then went to stand with Nettle and her brothers.
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I stood alone.
I turned to look at Dutiful but he was watching the door. Someone tapped cautiously and then pushed the door open slowly. Spark entered, clad in sedate Buckkeep blue, the guise of a serving girl. And walking slowly beside her, his pale hand on her shoulder, came the Fool. He was clad in a black tunic over a loose-sleeved white shirt, with black leggings and low shoes. A soft black hat covered his sparse hair. His sightless eyes roved the chamber but I knew that it was his hand on Spark’s shoulder that guided him. She took him to one of the chairs along the wall and helped him seat himself. Steady looked round at the gathering and then at King Dutiful. The king gave a short nod. Steady walked to the door and shut it firmly.
I waited. I’d only witnessed this once, when I was twelve, and then it had been through a spy-hole in the wall. I remembered it well. I knew that Dutiful would walk to the raised chair and take his place. The others would find ch
Dutiful drew a deep and ragged breath. I wondered how hard this would be for him, and suddenly I deeply regretted putting him through it. Not what I had done; no regrets there, save that I had not rescued my daughter. He did not speak loudly, but his voice carried. “I think we are all here. I am sorry we must gather like this. Under the circumstances, we must keep this private. Within the family, in a sense. ”
The lack of formality shocked me. He turned, not to me, but toward Hap and Chivalry and Nimble. “We sent you word that Bee had been kidnapped. Today we give you worse tidings. She is lost to us. ”
“No!” Chivalry’s voice shook as he uttered his low denial. “What happened? How was she taken, and how is it possible you could not track down her kidnappers?”
Hap looked around at us. His trained voice broke as he said, “She was so small. So delicate. ”
Shine muffled a sob. Dutiful spoke. “Fitz, do you want to tell them? Or shall I?”
So. A public confession before judgment. It was fitting. Dutiful had not taken his proper place but I knew how things should proceed. I walked to the railing. I placed both hands on it. “It began two days before Winterfest. I wanted to give Bee a special day. She’d … things had been difficult in our household. ” I hesitated. How much pain did I wish to cause? As little as possible. Chade, Lant, and Shine had tragedy enough. However they had failed me, I had failed them even more.
And so I took it all upon myself. I did not speak of Lant’s shortcomings as a teacher and I glossed over Shine’s greed and childishness. Of all I had done, I spoke true, from my interference in the dog’s death to how I had left my child to the care of others to try to save the Fool. I admitted that I had resisted the idea of having a Skilled one stationed in my home to relay information in my absence, and that I had never seen the need for a house guard.
Dispassionately, I recounted all that had happened in my absence. I did not stop for Shine’s gasping sobs. I spoke of the lives shattered at Withywoods and all my futile efforts to find Bee. I said only that the two Chalcedeans I’d questioned had confirmed all our Withywoods folk had told us. I did not say why they had spoken so freely. I confessed that I had taken elfbark and been unable to follow my daughter into the stone. And to those who had never used a Skill-portal, I explained that Bee was now lost. Not dead: no, nothing so simple as dead. Lost. Gone. Unraveled into the Skill-stream. All efforts to recover her failed.
Then in all ways, I was finished. I swayed. I looked down at the wooden block before me and realized I was kneeling. At some time during my account, my knees had folded and I had crumpled.
“Fitz?” Dutiful said, and there was only concern in his voice. “Fitz? Are you unwell?”
“Of course he’s unwell! We’re all unwell. None of this is right. Worst is that we have to gather here in secret to mourn the loss of a child. Fitz. Put your arm across my shoulders. Come. Stand up. ”
It was Kettricken tugging at me, lifting my arm to put it across her shoulders. And then she stood, not effortlessly, for the years weighed more heavily on her than they did on me. I tottered as she escorted me to a chair near the hearth. I sat, feeling confused and older than I’d ever been. I did not understand what was happening until her cowl dropped and I saw that her head was shorn.
The others gathered round us. Dutiful spoke softly. “Oh, Mother, I told you we must be restrained. ”
“Restrained?” This from Elliania. She snatched crown and scarf from her head, revealing only a short brush of what had always been her glossy black hair. “Restrained?” She lifted her crown as if she would dash it to the ground. Prosper caught her arm and she let him take it. She sank down to the floor, her royal robes puddling around her. She put her hands over her face and spoke through her fingers. “We have lost a child. A little girl! A Farseer daughter! Gone, just as my little sister was gone for years. Must we have this agony again? The not-knowing? The secrecy of the pain? Gone! And we must be restrained?”
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She threw her head back, baring the long column of her throat, and keened as if she were a wolf mourning her cub. Prosper sank to his knees beside her and put his arm around his mother’s shoulders.
Chivalry lifted his voice. “Can we be sure she is gone forever? All know tales of folk who have emerged from the stones years later …”
Nettle replied. “She has no training, and she entered the stone as part of a company of untrained folk. She would be like a drop of wine splashing into a rushing river. I will hold no false hopes. We have to let her go. ”
I found I was shaking. Kettricken took the chair beside me and put her arm protectively around me. “It’s all my fault,” I confessed to her.
“Oh, Fitz, always you are …” She bit back whatever it was she had started to say. More gently she added, “No one blames you. ”
“I blame me. ”
“Of course you do,” she said, as if I were a child insisting the moon was a cheese.
Elliania had overheard. “No! Blame them! The ones who took her. They all must be hunted down and killed! Killed like pigs screaming before the butcher!”
“Elliania. Fitz killed those he could. The stone took the rest. ” Dutiful tried to comfort her. I lifted my head. Blind or not, the Fool’s gaze met mine. He stood, groping for Spark’s shoulder, and she slipped beneath his hand as if it was a well-practiced trick. I saw his mouth move and knew that he whispered to her. He would go to Elliania and that alliance would be as unpredictable and explosive as one of Chade’s fire-pots.
“Family,” Dutiful said. His voice had that indefinable ring of someone taking control of a situation. “Please. We gathered here to mourn little Bee. We must keep our sorrow private until we have determined how magic was used against us, and if there is any further danger of attack from invisible enemies. We will strike back once we have a tactic and a target. Until we then, we gather information and we plan. We should not alarm our duchies until we have a defense to offer them. ” He shook his head, his teeth set in a grimace.
“We are threatened on more than one front. An immense green dragon has been raiding Farrow, not only taking livestock but destroying barns to get at the animals. Two other dragons have been menacing Bearns. The Dragon Traders simultaneously claim they have no control over them and threaten retaliation against any who attack them. The Pirate Isles have increased levies against our trading ships by thirty percent, and have begun to insist those levies can only be paid in gold or Sandsedge brandy. Tilth is reporting a pestilence that is killing their sheep and their dogs. And in the Mountains—”
“It was ever so,” Kettricken said, interrupting his listing of woes. “Tragedy does not mean that other problems cease. But you are right, Dutiful. We came here to mourn, and to give one another whatever small comfort we can. ” She rose and extended a hand toward her son’s wife. Elliania took it and Kettricken helped her to rise. “Come. ”
The two queens led and all followed them to the hearth. Chivalry, son of Burrich and Molly, came to me and offered me his arm. “Can you walk?” he asked me without pity.
“I can”—but I accepted his arm to stand, and he stayed beside me.
Spark had scissors in her apron pocket. Both Kettricken and Elliania had brought their shorn hair in silken bags. Into the flames they went, and the stench filled the room. The smell reminded me of how Bee and I had burned the messenger’s body. My little girl had been so brave that night. My gorge rose suddenly. Such a fond memory to cherish of my little child: how she had helped me conceal a murder. I could not speak as each person contributed a lock of hair to the flames and spoke a memory or a regret or bowed a head silently. Hap spoke of a dress he had given her, and how she had looked like a “little holiday cake, trimmed with sugar and spice” when she wore it for him. Kettricken spoke, with regret, of h
Dutiful took Spark’s scissors. He cut a lock from the back of my neck, where it would scarcely show, and gave it to me to offer to the fire. He did the same for the others. There was no restoring Kettricken’s or Elliania’s hair, but we would give no others cause to wonder. When the Fool came forward to offer his lock of hair, he put his hand on my arm. “Later,” he said quietly.
And that was all. There was no little body to set on a pyre. All felt it. Our small farewell ceremony was unfinished and always would be. In the midst of my family, I had never felt more alone. Nettle embraced me. Kettricken took both my hands in hers, looked in my eyes, and simply shook her head. Spark came to take me over to Chade. He smiled at me and thanked me, very softly, for bringing his girl back to him. I could not tell if he even knew that Bee was lost to me forever.
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Each of them came to me, with a word or a touch, and then quietly left the audience chamber. Nettle’s brothers bore her away and Riddle trailed after them. Chade’s children had taken him back to his room. Spark guided the Fool away, and Hap slipped out on their heels, probably to have quiet words with him. I made a grave farewell to Queen Elliania. Tears still streaked her cheeks as her sons escorted her away.
I was left alone in the stark room with Dutiful and Kettricken. Dutiful looked at me woefully. “I have to leave. Three of my dukes have traveled to discuss with me the depredations of the dragons and what can be done about them. ”
He took a breath to say more, but I shook my head. “You must go and be the king. I know that. ” And I did, but my desire to be alone made it so easy for me to urge him back to his own life. He left, walking sadly, and I turned to Queen Kettricken.