I took a double handful of water to the wolf, and sat by him, to let it trickle over his stilllolling tongue. After a bit, he stirred feebly, enough to pull his tongue back into his mouth.
I made another effort for the Fool. “I know that you did what you did to save my life. Thank you.”
He saved both our lives . He spared us continuing in a way that would have destroyed us both. The wolf did not open his eyes, but his thought was strong with passion.
However, what he did
Was it worse than what you did to me?
I had no answer for that. I could not be sorry that I had kept him alive. Yet
It was easier to speak to the Fool than follow that thought. “You saved both our lives. I had gone . . . somehow, I had gone inside Nighteyes. With the Skill, I think.” A flash of insight broke my words. Was this what Chade had spoken of to me, that the Skill could be used to heal? I shuddered. I had imagined it as a sharing of strength, but what I had done I pushed the knowledge away. “I had to try and save him. And ... I did help him. But then I could not find my way out of him. If you hadn't drawn me back ...” I let the words trail off. There was no quick way to explain what he had rescued us from. I knew now, with certainty, that I would tell him the tale of our year among the Old Blood. “Let's go back to the cabin. There is elfbark there, for tea. And I need rest as much as Nighteyes does.”
“And I, also,” the Fool acceded faintly.
I glanced over him, noting the gray pallor of fatigue that drooped his face and the deep lines clenched in his brow. Guilt washed through me. Untrained and unaided, he had used the Skill to pull me back into my own body. The magic was not in his blood as it was in mine; he had no hereditary predilection for it. All he had possessed was the ancient Skill marks on his fingers, the memento of his accidental brush against Verity's Skillencrusted hands. That and the feeble bond we had once shared through that touch were his only tools as he had risked himself to draw me back. Neither fear nor ignorance had stopped him. He had not known the full danger of what he did. I could not decide if that made his act less brave or more so. And all I had done was rebuke him for it.
I recalled the first time that Verity had used my strength to further his own Skill. I had collapsed from the drain of it. Yet the Fool still stood, swaying slightly, but he stood. And he made no complaint of the pain that must be playing hammer and tongs on his brain. Not for the first time, I marveled at the toughness that resided in his slender body. He must have sensed my eyes on him, for he turned his gaze to mine. I attempted a smile. He answered it with a wry grimace.
Nighteyes rolled onto his belly, then lurched to his feet. Wobbly as a new foal, he tottered to the water and drank. Satisfying his thirst made both of us feel better, yet my legs still trembled with weariness.
“It's going to be a long walk back to the cabin,” I observed.
The Fool's voice was neutral, yet almost normal as he asked, “Can you make it?”
“With some help.” I held my hand up to him and he came to take it and draw me to my feet. He held my arm and walked beside me, but I think he leaned on me more than I did on him. The wolf trod slowly after us. I set my teeth and my resolve, and did not reach out to him through that Skilllink that hung between us like a silver chain. I could resist that temptation, I told myself. Verity had. So could I.
The Fool broke the sundappled silence of the forest. “I thought you were having a seizure at first, as used to fell you. But then you lay so still ... I feared you were dying. Your eyes were open and staring. I could not find your pulse. But every now and then, your body would twitch and gasp in some air.” He paused. “I could get no response from you. It was the only thing I could think of to do, to plunge in after you.”
His words horrified me. I was not sure that I wanted to know what my body did when I was out of it. “It was probably the only way to save my life.”
“And mine,” he said quietly. “For despite what it costs B either of us, I must keep you alive. You are the wedge I must use, Fitz. And for that, I am sorrier than I can ever say.”
He turned his head as he spoke to me. The openness of that golden gaze combined with the bond between us, gold and silver twining. I recognized and rejected a truth I did not want to know.
Behind us, the wolf paced slowly, his head hanging.
The Tawny Man 2 - Golden Fool
The Tawny Man 2 - Golden Fool
The Tawny Man 1 - Fools Errand
Chapter VIII
OLD BLOOD
". . . And I trust the hounds will reach you in good health along with this missive. If it be otherwise, please have a bird sent me with such tidings, that I may advise you as to their care. In closing, I ask that you please pass on my regards to Lord Chivalry Farseer. Inform him, with my greetings, that the colt he entrusted to my care still suffers from too abrupt a weaning from his dam. In nature, he is skittish and suspicious, but we shall hope that gentle treatment and patience coupled with a firm hand will cure him of this. He has also a stubborn streak, most vexatious to his trainer, but this, I believe, we may attribute to his sharing his sire's temperament. Discipline may supplant it with strength of spirit. I remain, as always, his most humble servant.