Robin Hobb - The Complete Tawny Man Trilogy - Fool’s Errand, The Golden Fool, Fool’s Fate

‘I shall. Thank you.’

A few moments passed as his pen scratched busily across the paper. Once or twice he looked up, regarding me with a speculative look that made me uneasy. I wandered over to his window and looked out of it. It was a lovely day. I wished it belonged solely to me. I smelled melting wax and turned around to see Lord Golden applying his seal to his missives. He let the wax cool a bit, then held them out to me.

‘Off you go, to tailor and weapons-dealer. As for me, I think I shall stroll for a bit in the gardens, and then I have been invited to the Queen’s parlour for –’

‘I saw her. Kettricken.’ I choked on a bitter laugh. ‘It seems so long ago: us waking the stone-dragons, and all. And then something will happen and it seems like yesterday. The last time I saw Kettricken, she sat astride Verity-as-Dragon and bade us all farewell. Now, today, I saw her and it suddenly all came real for me. She has reigned here as Queen for well over a decade.

‘I stepped aside from all this to heal, and because I thought I could no longer be a part of it. Now, I’ve returned and I look around me and think, “I’ve missed my life.” While I was off and alone, it went on here, without me, and I’m forever doomed to be a stranger in my own home.’

‘Regrets are useless,’ the Fool replied. ‘All you can do is start from where you are. And who knows? Perhaps what you bring back from your self-imposed exile may prove to be just what is needed.’

‘And time flies by us, even as we speak.’

‘Quite so,’ Lord Golden replied. He gestured at his wardrobe. ‘My coat, Badgerlock. The green one.’

I opened the wardrobe doors and extracted the required garment from its many brethren, then closed the panels as best I could upon the bulging excess. I held his coat for him as so often I had seen Charim hold a coat for Verity, and assisted him into it. He held out his wrists to me, and I adjusted the cuffs and tugged the skirts of it straight. A flicker of amusement passed through his eyes. ‘Very good, Badgerlock,’ he murmured. He preceded me to the door and then waited while I opened it for him.

Once he was gone, I latched it, and quickly finished the rest of the cooling breakfast. I stacked the dishes back on the tray. I looked at the entry to the Fool’s private room. Then I kindled a candle, entered my small chamber and shut the door firmly behind me. But for the candle, the darkness would have been absolute. It took me a few moments to find the trigger that released the catch, and then two tries before I pressed the right spot on the wall. Despite the protest in my aching legs, I carried Verity’s sword up the multitude of stairs to Chade’s tower and leaned it in the corner by the mantle.

Once I was back in the Fool’s room, I cleared the table. When I glanced into the looking-glass, the breakfast things in my hands, I saw a Buckkeep serving-man. I gave a short sigh, reminded myself to keep my eyes lowered, and left the room.

Had I feared that on my return to Buckkeep Castle, all would instantly recognize me? The reality was that no one even saw me. A glance at my servant’s clothing and lowered eyes and I was dismissed from the mind. I did receive sidelong looks from my fellow servants, but for the most part they were occupied with their own tasks. A few offered hasty greetings, and I accepted their welcome amiably. I would cultivate the servants, for little happens in any great house that the servants do not know about. I returned the dishes to the kitchen and left the castle. The guards passed me through with scarcely a word. I soon found myself on the steep roads that led down to the town. It was a fine day and the road was well travelled. Summer seemed determined to linger a time yet. I fell in behind a group of ladies’-maids going down to the town with baskets on their arms. They glanced warily back at me twice, and then ignored me. The rest of the way down the hill, I listened hungrily to their gossip, but found no hints there. They were speaking of the festivities that would accompany the Prince’s betrothal, and what their mistresses would wear. Somehow the Queen and Chade had been able to disguise the Prince’s absence.

In the town, I went quickly about Lord Golden’s errands but kept my ears pricked for any word that might pertain to Dutiful. I found the tailor’s shop with no difficulty. As the Fool had told me, I knew it of old, when it was Molly’s chandlery. It was strange to enter that place. The tailor took my letter of credit with no hesitation, but clucked over Golden’s command for haste in their sewing. ‘Still, he has paid me well enough to make it worth my sleep tonight. Your clothes will be ready by tomorrow.’ I gathered from his other comments that Lord Golden had patronized him before. I stood silently on a low stool and was measured. No questions were asked of me, for Lord Golden had specified in his note how he wished his servant dressed. I was free to stand silent and wonder if I could still catch the scents of beeswax and aromatic herbs, or if I deceived myself. Before I departed, I asked the man if he knew of any hedge-witches in Buckkeep. I wanted to ask one if my new position boded well for me. He shook his head at my low-born superstition, but told me to ask about near the smithy’s lane.

This suited me well, for my next errand took me to Croy’s. I wondered that the Fool knew this man’s shop at all, for it was a jackdaw’s nest of battered weapons and armour. But again the proprietor took Lord Golden’s note without question. I took my time finding a blade I could live with. I wanted a simple, well-made weapon, but of course that is what any true man-at-arms chooses, so that was what Croy had least of. After trying to interest me in several remarkable swords that had elaborate guards and nondescript blades, he gave up on me and left me to sort through his collection. I did so, but kept up a constant stream of observations at how Buckkeep had changed since I was last there. It was not hard to get him gossiping, and then to turn his tongue to omens and portents and those who dealt in them. I did not have to mention Jinna by name to hear of her. At length I selected a blade truly worthy of my rusty skills. Croy tutted over it. ‘Your master has gold and to spare, good man. Choose yourself something with a bit of a sparkle on it, or some style to the basket.’

I shook my head. ‘No, no, I want nothing that will catch in a man’s clothes when the fighting is close and hot. This is the one I’ll have. But I’ll take a knife to go with it.’

This was soon found and I left his shop. I walked through the loud clanging and gusting heat that marked the smithy’s lane. The hammers of competing smithies were a stunning counterpoint to the sun’s beat. I had forgotten how constant the noise of a city was. I searched my memory as I walked, trying to recall if anything I had said to Jinna would conflict with my newly-modified life-history. At length, I decided it would have to do. If something did not make sense to her, well, she would just have to believe me a liar. I frowned at how much that disturbed me.

Croy had described a dark green sign with a white hand painted on it. The lines on the hand were all done in red, quite skilfully. From the low eaves of her roof several of her charms tinkled and turned in the sunlight. Luckily for me, none seemed to be against predators. It took me but a moment’s pause to guess at their purpose. Welcome. They attracted me to the house and the door. It took a time for anyone to reply to my knock, but then the top half of the door opened and Jinna herself greeted me.

‘Badgerlock!’ she exclaimed, peering at me, and it was pleasant that neither my warrior’s tail nor my new clothes had kept her from knowing me. She swung the lower door open instantly. ‘Come in! Welcome to Buckkeep Town. Will you let me repay the debt of hospitality I owe you? Do come in.’