“What of Henja? Did the Prince tell you that I saw her?”

His face grew graver. “He did. But . . . is it possible you were mistaken? For my spies in town have heard not a whisper of her.”

I forced myself to consider the memory of that glimpse. “I was hurt and it was dark. But . . . I do not think I was mistaken. And I believe she was the woman who was there when Thick was. She offered gold to Padget and Laudwine for the Fool and me . . . I think. It was hard to decide what she was trying to buy from them. Laudwine didn’t like her. She seems to be involved in all of this somehow.”

Chade lifted a hand, palm up. “If she is, she has covered her tracks well. There is no sign of her in Buckkeep Town that I can discover.”

That was small comfort. His spies had not found Laudwine, either. I kept that complaint to myself.

“We still have a Piebald spy here in Buckkeep. The man who led Thick to Laudwine.”

Chade’s voice was neutral. “Civil’s groom met with a most unfortunate accident. He was found dead in a stud horse’s stall, kicked to death. Why he would have gone into the stall at all is a mystery.”

I nodded. Another thread tied off. “And Civil’s mother and holdings?”

Chade looked away from me. “The tragic news reached us the day after you were taken prisoner. Lady Bresinga died of food poisoning. A number of her guests and servants died with her. It was horribly sad, but not the least bit shameful or scandalous. Her body was discovered first, but over the next few days, others sickened and swiftly died. Tainted fish is what I heard. Lady Bresinga’s body was sent to her mother’s home for burial. Civil is attending to that sad duty. Prince Dutiful sent his own honor guard with him as a token of the high esteem he holds him in. Civil understands that when the details have been settled, he will return to Buckkeep, to remain at Buckkeep Castle until he reaches his majority. Galekeep will be shuttered, though our Lady Queen has lent Civil staff and a steward to maintain the place in his absence.”

I nodded slowly. The Prince might call Civil friend, but he would be Chade’s well-kept and pampered prisoner for the next few years. It was an apt solution. He could perceive it as protection or as a cage. All had been neatly managed. I wondered if Lady Rosemary had found a sudden reason to visit her friend at Galekeep, or if the spy that Chade had in place there had done the poisoning. It would have been difficult for Rosemary to travel, burned as she was. Then I suddenly turned to look at Chade. He met my scrutiny with a puzzled expression. I leaned forward suddenly and, before he could draw back, touched his cheek. No paint came off on my fingers. Sound, pink flesh. No trace of healing burns.


“Oh, Chade,” I rebuked him, and my voice shook with shock. “Have a care, man! You charge in blindly and none of us know the cost. None of us.”

He allowed himself a smile. “I care little for the cost, when I know the benefit so well already. My burns are healed. For the first time in years, I walk with no pains in my knees and hips. I sleep free of pain at night. I even see more clearly.”

“You are not doing this alone.”

He looked at me, refusing to answer, and I knew the answer.

“You’ve been tapping Thick’s strength,” I accused him in a low voice.

“He doesn’t mind.”

“You don’t know the dangers. He doesn’t understand the risks.”

“And neither do you!” he replied sharply. “Fitz, there are times to be cautious and times to be bold. The time has come for us to take these risks. We need to discover all the Skill truly can do. When the Prince goes on his quest to slay Icefyre, you will go with him. And you must know the Skill’s powers by then, and must be capable of wielding them. This”—and he slapped his chest soundly—“this is a miracle and a wonder. If we had had this at our disposal when Shrewd was ill, he never would have died. Think what that would have meant!”

“Yes, think,” I rejoined. “Think of Shrewd, alive still and ruling here. Then ask yourself, why isn’t that so? For he was not trained by Galen. Solicity was his Skillmistress. Can not we assume that he knew far more of the Skill than we do? Perhaps even how to prolong his life? So then, let us ask, why did he not do it? Why did not Solicity herself do it? Did they know that there was a price attached to that, a price too high to pay?”

“Or did he merely lack a coterie to assist him in his efforts?” Chade countered.

“He could have used Galen’s Coterie, if that was the case.”

“Pah! You don’t know that, and neither do I. Why must you be so pessimistic? Why must you always assume the worst?”



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