Adding to my discomfort was that I was becoming aware of Dutiful's need to urinate. I started to shield myself from his Skill, and then had a different idea. I recalled how Thick's uneasiness aboard the ship had spread to infect the sailors. I wondered if Dutiful's current discomfort could be used in a like manner.
I opened myself to his unwitting sending, amplified it, and then sent my Skill-questing out through the room. None of the Outislanders that I touched had any strong aptitude for the Skill, but many were susceptible to its influence in varying degrees. Once Verity had used a similar technique to baffle Red Ship navigators, convincing them that they'd already passed key landmarks and thus sending their ships onto the rocks. Now I used it to end this Hetgurd gathering by reminding every man my Skill could touch of his urgent need to empty his bladder.
All around the room, men began to shift in their seats. Doing? Chade demanded.
Ending this meeting, I told him grimly.
Ah! I felt Dutiful's sudden comprehension, and then felt him join his persuasion to mine.
Who is in charge? I asked him.
No one. They share authority here. Or so they say. Dutiful obviously thought it a poor system.
Bear opened meeting, Chade told me tersely. I felt him draw my attention to a man who wore a bear's-tooth necklace. I was suddenly aware of how much strength it was taking from Chade for him to do this feeble Skilling.
Don't tax yourself, I warned him.
Know my own strength! His reply was angry but even from where I stood, I could see his shoulders drooping.
I singled out the Bear and focused my attention on him. Fortunately for me, he had little wall against the Skill and a full bladder. I pressed urgency on him and he suddenly stood up. He came forward to claim the speaking circle. The others ceded it to him with hand motions of giving.
“We need to ponder on this. All of us,” he suggested. “Let us go apart, to talk with our own clans and see what thoughts they have for us. Tomorrow, let us gather again and speak of what we have learned and thought. Do any think this is wise?”
A forest of hands rose in spiraling gestures of assent.
“Then let our meeting be over for this day,” the Bear suggested.
And just that quickly, it was over. Men stood immediately and began moving toward the door. There was no ceremony to it, no precedence for those of higher rank, just a push of men toward the exit, some with a greater insistence than others.
Tell your captain that you must check on your ward. That, until he is fit, I have commanded that you continue to tend him. We'll soon join you upstairs.
I obeyed my prince's command. When Longwick released me, I retrieved the washing basin I'd left outside the door and returned to Thick's chamber. He had not stirred that I could see. I felt his forehead. He was still feverish, but it did not burn as it had aboard the ship. Nonetheless, I roused him and coaxed him to drink water. He took little urging to down a whole mug of it, and then settled back into the bed again. I was relieved. Here, in this strange room and away from the perspective of his sickbed on the ship, I could truly see how wasted Thick was. Well, he would recover now. He had all he needed: quiet, a bed, food and drink. Soon he would be better. I tried to convince myself that my hope was a fact.
I heard Prince Dutiful and Chade conversing in the hall with someone. I stood and went to the door, ear pressed to it. I heard Dutiful pleading weariness, and then the closing of the door of the next chamber. His servants must have been waiting for him there. Again, there was a murmur of conversation, and then I heard him dismiss them. A little time passed and then the connecting door opened and Dutiful wandered in. He held a small black square of the food in his hand. He looked depressed. He held the food up and asked me, “Any idea what this is?”
“Not really, but it has fish paste in it. Maybe seaweed, too. The cakes with the seeds are sweet. Oily but sweet.”
Dutiful regarded the food in his hand with distaste, then gave the shrug of a fifteen-year-old who hasn't been fed for several hours and ate it. He licked his fingers. “It's not bad, as long as you expect it to taste like fish.”
“Old fish,” I observed.
He didn't reply. He'd crossed over to where Thick slept. He stood looking down on him. He shook his head slowly.
“This is so unfair to him. Do you think he's getting better now?”
“I hope so.”
“His music has become so much quieter, it worries me. Sometimes I feel as if Thick himself goes away from us when his fever rises.”
I opened myself to Thick's music. Dutiful was right. It did seem less intense. “Well, he's sick. It takes strength and energy to Skill.” I didn't want to worry about him just now. “Chade surprised me today.”