“Me?” I asked stupidly.
“Of course. I’ve laid out clothes for you. Dress quietly. Verity is still asleep.”
“What does she need me for?”
“Why, I don’t know. The message wasn’t specific. Perhaps she’s taken ill. Fitz. The runner said only that she required you immediately. I suppose you’ll find out when you get there.”
That was slim comfort. But it was enough to stir curiosity in me, and in any case, I had to go. I didn’t know exactly what relation Lady Thyme was to the King, but she was far above me in importance. I didn’t dare ignore her command. I dressed quickly by candlelight and left my room for the second time that night. Hands had Sooty saddled and ready, along with a ribald jest or two about my summons. I suggested how he might amuse himself the rest of the night and then left. I was waved out of the keep and through the fortifications by guards who had been advised of my coming.
I turned wrong twice in the town. It all appeared different by night, and I had not paid much attention to where I had been going earlier. At last I found the inn yard. A worried innkeeper was awake and had a light in the window. “She’s been groaning and calling for you for most of an hour now, sirrah,” she told me anxiously. “I fear it’s serious, but she will let no one in but you.”
I hurried down the hall to her door. I tapped cautiously, half expecting her shrill voice to tell me to go away and stop bothering her. Instead, a quavering voice called out, “Oh, Fitz, is that finally you? Hurry in, boy. I need you.”
I took a deep breath and lifted the latch. I went into the semidarkness of the stuffy room, holding my breath against the various smells that assaulted my nostrils. Death stench could hardly be worse than this, I thought to myself.
Heavy hangings draped the bed. The only light in the room came from a single candle guttering in its holder. I picked it up and ventured closer to the bed. “Lady Thyme?” I asked softly. “What’s wrong?”
“Boy.” The voice came quietly from a dark corner of the room.
“Chade,” I said, and instantly felt more foolish than I care to remember.
“There’s no time to explain all the reasons. Don’t feel bad, boy. Lady Thyme has fooled many folk in her time, and will continue to. At least I hope so. Now. Trust me and don’t ask questions. Just do what I tell you. First, go to the innkeeper. Tell her that Lady Thyme has had one of her attacks and must rest quietly for a few days. Tell her on no account to disturb her. Her great-granddaughter will be coming in to care for her—”
“Who—”
“It’s been arranged already. And her great-granddaughter will be bringing in food for her and everything else she needs. Just emphasize that Lady Thyme needs quiet and to be left alone. Go and do that now.”
And I did, and I appeared jolted enough that I was very convincing. The innkeeper promised me that she would let no one so much as tap on a door, for she would be most reluctant to lose Lady Thyme’s good opinion of her inn and her trade. By which I surmised that Lady Thyme paid her generously indeed.
I reentered the room quietly, shutting the door softly behind me. Chade shot the bolt and kindled a fresh candle from the glimmering stump. He spread a small map on the table beside it. I noticed he was dressed for traveling—cloak, boots, jerkin, and trousers all of black. He looked a different man, suddenly, very fit and energetic. I wondered if the old man in the worn robe was also a pose. He glanced up at me, and for a moment I would have sworn it was Verity the soldier I was facing. He gave me no time to muse.
“Things will have to go here however they will go between Verity and Kelvar. You and I have business elsewhere. I received a message tonight. Red-Ship Raiders have struck, here, at Forge. So close to Buckkeep that it’s more than just an insult; it’s a real threat. And done while Verity is at Neatbay. Don’t tell me they didn’t know he was here, away from Buckkeep. But that’s not all. They’ve taken hostages, dragged them back to their ships. And they’ve sent words to Buckkeep, to King Shrewd himself. They’re demanding gold, lots of it, or they’ll return the hostages to the village.”
“Don’t you mean they’ll kill them if they don’t get the gold?”
“No.” Chade shook his head angrily, a bear bothered by bees. “No, the message was quite clear. If the gold is paid, they’ll kill them. If not, they’ll release them. The messenger was from Forge, a man whose wife and son had been taken. He insisted he had the threat correct.”
“I don’t see that we have a problem,” I snorted.