Fool's Fate (Tawny Man #3)

Swift was in an untenable position and he knew it. He came to heel like a whipped dog and stood beside Web, eyes downcast.

“Yes, sir,” he replied softly. He lifted his gaze to me and I didn't like what I saw there. It was fear coupled with dislike and I did not feel I had done anything to justify either of those emotions.

“Swift,” Web said, drawing the boy's eyes back to him. He went on quietly, in a voice pitched for our ears alone. “It will be fine. Trust me. Tom wishes to be sure you will continue your education while you are aboard this ship. That is all.”

“Actually, there is more,” I said unwillingly. That made both of them stare at me. Web lifted a brow. “I've given a promise,” I said slowly. “To your family, Swift. I promised that I'd put my life between you and anything that threatened you. I've promised that I'll do my best to see you safely home, when all this is over.”

“What if I don't want to go home when all this is over?” Swift asked me insolently, his voice rising. I felt more than saw the Prince become aware of the conversation. And then the boy added, indignantly, “Wait! How did you talk to my father? There wasn't time for you to send a messenger and then get a reply before we left. You're lying.”

I drew a slow breath through my nostrils. When I could speak calmly, I replied, keeping my voice pitched low. “No. I am not lying. I sent my promise to your family. I didn't say they had replied. I still consider it just as binding.”

“There wasn't time,” he protested, but more quietly. Web looked at him disapprovingly. I scowled. Web flicked a disapproving glance at me, but I met it steadily. I'd promised to keep the boy alive and return him home. That didn't mean I had to tolerate his insults gladly.

“I suppose this may be a long voyage for both of you,” Web observed. “I'll leave you to each other's company, and hope you both learn to make the best of it. I believe you each have something to offer the other. But you'll only value it if you discover it for yourselves.”

“I'm cold,” Thick moaned, rescuing me from Web's lecture.

“There's your first errand,” I told Swift brusquely. “Ask the Prince's serving man where you can find two more blankets for Thick. Wool ones. And bring him a big mug of water, as well.”

I think it offended his dignity to fetch things for a half-wit, but he found it preferable to remaining in my company. As Swift scuttled off, Web gave a sigh.

“Truth between the two of you,” he advised me. “It's going to be your only bridge to reaching that boy, Tom. And he needs you to reach him. I'm only realizing that now. He ran from his home, and he ran from you. He has to stop running or he'll never learn to stand and face down his problems.”

So, he thought I was one of Swift's problems? I looked away. “I'll deal with him,” I said.

Web sighed wearily as he replied, “I'll leave him to you, then.”

Web returned to the table and the Witted coterie's conversation. After a time, they all left. The Prince resumed rehearsing his speech. By the time Swift returned with blankets and a mug of water for Thick, I'd combed through the Prince's collection of scrolls and selected several I thought would benefit Swift. To my surprise, I found some I hadn't seen before; Chade must have acquired them just before we sailed. They dealt with Out Island society and customs. I chose the simpler ones for Swift.

I made Thick as comfortable as I could. His fever was rising. The hotter he became the more fantastic the music he Skilled. He still hadn't taken in any food, but at least he'd lost the will to fight me as I held the mug to his mouth and made sure that he drank it all. I settled him again, tucking the blankets snugly around him, and wondering how the heat of a fever could make a man think he was cold.

When I finished, I glanced up to find Swift looking at us in distaste. “He smells funny,” the boy complained to my reproving glance.

“He's sick.” I pointed at the floor as I resumed my seat at the edge of Thick's bed. “Sit there. And read aloud to us, quietly, from that scroll. No, the one with the frayed edge, there. Yes, that one.”

“What is it?” he asked needlessly as he untied the scroll and opened it.

“It's a description of the history and people of the Out Islands.”

“Why do I need to read this?”

I ticked the reasons off on my fingers. “Because you need to practice your reading. Because we are going there, and it behooves you to know something about the people there so you don't shame your prince. Because the history of the Six Duchies is entwined with that of the Out Islands. And because I said so.”