Robin Hobb - The Golden Fool

A silence thick as congealing blood filled up the room. The minstrel came and set a hand on the slight man’s sleeve. ‘Bosk. She cannot help us with that. That is for us to deal with. All you would do is put yourself at greater risk; yes, and your wife and daughters, too.’ The minstrel glanced about the room, almost fearfully. And my heart sank at what I realized. The Old Bloods feared their own. There might be Piebald informers in that very room. The thought spread silently, chilling all of them. Soon some of them made excuses to visit their own chambers, and in a short time the room was nearly empty. Silvereye sat staring silently into the fire. The minstrel wandered aimlessly about the room. There was little talk among the few that remained.

I heard a scuffling noise down the passage behind me, and in a moment Chade crept up to join me. ‘Anything important?’ he whispered.

I set my hand to his wrist and conveyed all I had seen. His face grew thoughtful. After a moment he said softly, ‘Well. That sets my thoughts in a new track. It would not be the first time I had turned an error to an advantage. Keep your watch here, Fitz.’ Then, almost as an afterthought, ‘Are you getting hungry?’

‘A bit. But I’ll be fine.’

‘And our prince?

I’ve no reason to think he is otherwise.’

‘Ah, but you do. If there may be Piebald informers in that room, then there may be Piebalds amongst those who hold him hostage. Warn him, lad. And keep watch.’

And then he was gone, shuffling along bent almost double in the passage. I watched him go and wondered what he had in mind. Then I reached for Dutiful.

All was well with him. He was cold, he was bored, but no one had offered him insult let alone injury. Most of the talk today had been about what might be happening at Buckkeep. Evidently a bird, perhaps Risk or the hawk, had been ferrying notes back and forth. So far, all tidings had been reassuring. But Dutiful said that the air was one of waiting and worry.

The cow had an easy labor and dropped a fine bull calf. Sally was just as glad that she’d had the benefit of a tight stable and a warm stall, for the calf was born unseasonably early. By the time she and Web returned to the east gathering hall, it was time for another meal. I watched the Old Bloods congregate again as their meal was brought in, and watched them as they unmasked after the servants had left. I studied every face more carefully, but if there were any who had been in Laudwine’s band, I did not recognize them.

The meal was almost finished when there was a tap at the door.

Several of the Old Bloods cried out to the supposed servants that they had not yet finished eating. Then a voice at the door said quietly, ‘Let me in. Old Blood greets Old Blood.’

Web was the one who rose and went to the door and opened it to admit both Civil Bresinga and his cat. The squirrel on the table chittered in panic and then ran up his partner to hide under her hair. Pard didn't bat an eye, but strolled into the room, glanced about, and then went over to the hearth where he made himself comfortable. No one could have watched the cat's entrance and doubted that he was Wit-partnered to the boy who closed the door quietly behind himself and then turned to face the assembly.

The gazes he met would have daunted anyone. But again Web rose to the challenge, setting a friendly hand to Civil's shoulder and loudly exclaiming, 'Old Blood welcomes Old Blood. Come in and join us, lad. And you might be?

He took a breath and squared his shoulders. ‘I am Civil Bresinga. Lord Civil Bresinga, now, of Galekeep. I am a loyal subject of Queen Kettricken, and friend and companion to Prince Dutiful Farseer. I am Old Blood. And both my queen and my prince know that I am.’ He let them have a moment to consider that they looked at a Witted noble of the Farseer court. ‘I have come, at Councillor Chade’s behest, to tell you of how I am treated here. And to tell you, too, of my dealings with the Piebalds. And how I would have died at their hands, were it not for Farseer intervention.’

I watched in a sort of awe. The boy’s story was obviously unrehearsed. He wandered through it, often having to go back and explain earlier events. When he spoke of what her mother had endured and how she had died, he choked on. Web sat him down then and gave him a glass of wine and patted his back soothingly as if he were no more than a child. And I blinked and saw myself at fifteen, plunged into intrigue far beyond my ability to manage. Civil was little more than a child, I saw suddenly. Witted and constantly at risk, maneuvered into spying in a desperate bid to save his mother and his family fortune. He’d failed. Now he was deprived of parent and home; adrift: a very minor noble in a very political court. And the only reason he was alive, truly, was that he possessed the friendship of a Farseer. One that he had betrayed not once, but twice, and yet each time, he had been forgiven.

‘They have extended asylum to me,’ he finished his tale. ‘The Queen and the Prince and Councillor Chade are all full aware that I am Old Blood. And they know how I was used against them. And what it cost me.’ He paused and shook his head. ‘I am not skilled with words. I cannot draw all the parallels that I would like you to see. Only… they have not judged me by what I did in the past. They have not judged the Old Bloods by what the Piebalds attempted against the Prince. The Queen has not flinched from her Witted son. Cannot we do as much for them? Deal with the Farseers for who they are now, without looking too deeply into the past?’

Silvereye gave a contemptuous snort. But Boyo, perhaps seeing a kinship in this Witted noble and the title he hoped to reclaim, nodded thoughtfully. Civil suddenly looked at Web, and I sensed that something had just come into his mind, some idea of his own. As if in answer to my fervent wish, I heard the scuff of Chade’s tread again. I motioned to him frantically to join me at the spy-post, even as I signalled silence to him. The boy was speaking to Web, His words barely carried to us.

‘Councillor Chade told me what you suggested. That if Old Bloods could come to Buckkeep and live openly here alongside these ungifted folk, they might discover that we are not monsters to be feared. He also told me what you said. “A man with nothing to lose is often in the best position to sacrifice himself for the gain of others.” I have not had much time to ponder that, but I do not think I need much time to see that I am truly a man with nothing to lose. The only threat that remains is to me alone. I have no family left to suffer consequences for what I do.’ He glanced around the room. ‘I know that many of you fear that if you venture out of hiding your neighbours kill you. For long and long, it has been a valid fear. And one I have shared, as did my mother.’ His words died suddenly. Then he forced himself to go on, his voice cracking. ‘And so we stayed in hiding. And by doing so, we made it possible for our “friends” to kill us instead. I see no point in hiding any more.’ I could not decide if emotion choked him or if he paused to consider what he would say next. He glanced at Web again and then nodded as if to himself.

‘All in the keep have heard now of Web the Witted, who walks amongst us unafraid and unthreatening. I feel almost shamed that he, a stranger here, has stepped out into the light while I, who know Prince Dutiful best, have crept along in the shadows at the edge of the room. Tomorrow, I will change that. I will proudly declare my Old Blood and vow that I will demonstrate that such a one as I can be completely devoted to my prince, as he well deserves of me.

‘I have taught him of our ways, and willingly has Prince Dutiful learned. He has said that when he goes in the spring to the Out Islands, to slay a dragon and claim a bride, that I may go with him. When I do, I shall go as his Witted companion. There is no Skillmaster at Buckkeep, and my prince will go alone, with no Skill-coterie such as Farseer kings of old had to aid them. Bereft of that magic, I will instead put ours at his service, and prove it every bit as able, I warrant. I will put my Old Blood magic before them all, proudly.’