Golden Fool - Page 184/270


He looked, if anything, worse. The reddened skin on his brow and cheeks was peeling now, giving him a leprous look. At least he was speaking in closer to normal tones. I tested him, asking, “Is your hearing coming back?” in a low voice.

He scowled at me. “It’s somewhat better, but I’ll still need you to speak up for me to hear you clearly. Enough of that. What is this about Laudwine?”

At that moment, Lord Golden emerged from his chamber, still tying the belt of his morning robe. “Ah. Good morning, Councilor Chade. This is an unexpected pleasure, but I see that my servant has greeted you and supplied breakfast for both of us. Please be seated.”

Chade glowered at him, and then transferred the scowl to me. “Enough! I don’t care what your grievances with one another are right now. This is a threat to the Farseer throne, and I won’t tolerate any nonsense. Fool, keep quiet. FitzChivalry, report.”

The Fool shrugged and dropped into the chair opposite Chade. Without any ceremony, he began dishing up food for my old mentor. It stung me that he would revert to being his old self for Chade, but not for me. I sat down at table with them. The Fool had left my plate empty. I served myself as I spoke. I reported the morning thoroughly. Chade’s expression grew more alarmed as I progressed, but he did not interrupt. To pay the Fool back in kind, I didn’t even glance at him as I spoke. When I was finally finished, I poured tea for Chade and myself and attacked my food. I discovered I was ravenous.

After a long moment of silence, Chade asked me, “Have you planned an action?”

I shrugged with a casualness I didn’t feel. “It seems obvious. Keep Thick close so he can’t give the game away. Keep the Prince safe within doors today and tomorrow. Find out from Thick where he’s been going to report. Investigate the place. Go in and kill as many as possible, making sure that Laudwine dies this time.” I kept my voice steady, yet I felt a sudden revulsion for my own words. So it begins again, I thought. Not the killing in battle or under attack, but the quietly planned assassinations for the Farseers. Had I said I was not an assassin, would never be one again? I wondered if I had been a liar or an idiot to voice such words.

“Stop showing off for the Fool. He isn’t impressed,” Chade responded gruffly.

If he had not hit the mark so neatly, I would not have been so chagrined. Yes. I had been posturing. I didn’t even dare glance at the Fool to see how he had reacted to Chade’s remark. I shoveled another mouthful of food in to keep from having to say anything.

Chade’s next remark shocked me. “No killing, Fitz. And you stay away from all of them. I don’t like their spying, and I’m ashamed at how neat a ruse they used against me. But we cannot risk killing any Witted ones just now without compromising our queen’s word. You are aware that Kettricken offered to entertain a delegation from the Old Blood community, to work on solving the issue of unjust persecution?” At my nod, he continued. “Well, she has received messages in the last two days taking her up on her proposal. I suspect Laurel has had a hand in these arrangements. Don’t you?”

The old man shot the question and his grim look at me simultaneously. But if he had hoped to surprise a secret out of me, he failed. After a moment’s consideration, I nodded. “It does seem possible to me. Then they do this . . . this is being arranged without your guidance?” It was the most tactful way I could think of to say it.

Chade nodded, grimmer than ever. “Not only without my guidance but against my counsel. We scarcely need another diplomatic worry to deal with now. Nonetheless, I suppose we will have one. The Queen seems to be leaving all the details of the meeting’s time and place up to the Witted to determine. They have specified that to protect themselves, we must all maintain secrecy. There will be no announcement of this convocation until they tell us they are ready. I think they fear what our nobles would do if they knew this was planned. As do I!” He took a breath and recovered his aplomb. “An exact date has not been set, but they have promised us ‘soon.’ It may very well be that Laudwine is an emissary for the Witted ones. To kill him in his lodgings before he can meet with the Queen would be . . . politically unwise.”

“Not to mention rude,” the Fool interjected between bites of bread. He wagged a remonstrating finger at Chade.

“So I’m to do nothing?” I asked coldly.

“Not exactly,” Chade said mildly. “You were wise to do what you have done. Keep Thick confined. Don’t let him report back to them. See what other information you can wangle out of him. And you were correct to tell Dutiful not to be alone with Civil Bresinga. It may have been an innocent invitation, but it might also have been a ploy to give them a hostage. I have still not been able to determine how deeply the Bresingas were involved in the last kidnapping. The reports I get back from Galekeep are odd. For a time, I suspected that Lady Bresinga herself was in danger or some sort of hostage. Her movements were so limited and her life so restrained. Then I came to wonder if it were not merely a financial difficulty. Reports are now that she drinks far more than she used to. She retires early to bed and rises late. So.” He sighed. “I’ve made no decision there. And with the Queen’s efforts to befriend the Witted faction, I dared not take action against the Bresingas. I still don’t know if they are threat or ally.” He fell silent, scowling, and then added, “It is damnable bad luck that I have done this to my face just when I most need to get out and about and speak to people. Yet I cannot afford to excite comment. Some might make unwarranted connections.”