Fool's Quest (The Fitz and The Fool Trilogy #2)

“Welcome to Kelsingra,” King Reyn greeted us. “My friends and fellow traders, before us stand emissaries from the distant Six Duchies: Prince FitzChivalry Farseer and Lord Lant. Accompanying them is Lady Amber, known to some of you as a friend and to others by reputation. You will remember that her loaning of funds was instrumental to the rebuilding of Bingtown and the resettling of the former slaves in Trehaug. Prince FitzChivalry comes to us as not only an emissary but also a healer. Last night he kindly shared his ability to aid my son Ephron. All of you know that Phron has suffered badly from a breathing blockage. Now he can breathe, talk, and once more eat and drink and move freely. For this, both Malta and I offer thanks.”

“And I!” Ephron injected with a smile. There was a scattering of laughter at his irreverence, and I perceived that this was more like a merchant guild’s meeting than a royal reception.

“King Reyn and Queen Malta, good morning,” I began. “We are here, as you invited us to be. I was very glad to be of service to you yesterday. It is our hope that the Six Duchies and Kelsingra can remain trading partners and firm friends.” A general enough statement that I hoped I had not compromised any treaties Dutiful had in mind. “The wonders of your city have astounded all of us. Such a grand and wonderful hall! I see that there are other Elderlings in attendance here, their children with them.” I smiled and let my glance sweep the hall. I wondered if the Fool’s dragon-sense could tell him how many there were.

I paused to draw breath, and in that moment General Rapskal stepped out from the gathering. “My friends and fellow dragon-keepers, I beg you to be wary. Malta and Reyn are too trustful of these travelers, blinded by parental gratitude. They are here not as emissaries, but as spies and thieves!”

I did not miss that he did not accord Malta and Reyn royal titles. Amber’s grip on my forearm tightened. I kept the dignity of a still face and wondered if Reyn or Malta would defend us or if I must cobble together a quick riposte.

A tall Elderling with lavender-and-black scaling stepped forward. He carried a small boy in his arms. The child looked to be about three, but his head lolled weakly as if he were a newborn. The man’s violet eyes were very large in his pale face and he blinked them at me slowly. His lips were dark. No wonder or alarm showed on his face, only weariness. “Enough words. I came here for my boy’s sake. Rapskal, I don’t care if they’ve stolen Icefyre’s back teeth. Help my child. That’s all I care about just now.” The woman at his side was far more human than Elderling but still obviously marked by dragon contact. Her jaw was fringed with dangling growths like a sun-lizard’s. She clasped her hands under her chin as if praying, and a line of silvery scales showed in the parting of her dark hair.

“Nortel, I understand that you feel—”

“No, Rapskal! You don’t understand. You don’t have a child, let alone a child who is slowly dying. So you can’t understand and you don’t understand. You don’t need to be here, all dressed up like soldiers. Neither does Kase or Boxter. You should all leave.”

“Hey!” One of Rapskal’s guardsmen was clearly insulted. His copper eyes flashed and the color in his bronze-and-orange scaling heightened. “I’ve got a child. I understand.”

Nortel rounded on him. “No, Kase, you don’t understand. Skrim dotes on your little girl. A day doesn’t go by that I don’t see her climbing on his tail or sitting on his leg. He’s scarcely been gone for a week since she was born. But my Tinder left when Maude was still pregnant and hasn’t returned. He’s never even seen Rellik, let alone shaped him. And we can’t wait any longer for my dragon to come back and do right by my son.”

“Not conducted like any monarchy I’ve ever encountered,” Amber observed under her breath. But Amber could not see what I could. Nortel marched toward me, his listless child jouncing in his arms. The child’s eyes were dull and uninterested in his fate. Maude followed him, her hands over her mouth now. “Please, sir, if you can help my boy, help him. Help him now. Please.” He tipped the boy away from his shoulder and held him out to me. The boy’s head and legs dangled, and I did not even think as I reached out to support his lolling head.

I shot a questioning glance toward Reyn, but it was Malta who was nodding like a toy, her hands clasped as if in supplication.

“I cannot make any promises …”

“I don’t ask any. Do what you can, for he grows weaker with every passing day. Please. Help my boy, and anything within my power is yours.”