choose her life path, or die in the attempt. But it did not stop me from sending Nighteyes back down our trail to see if she was still coming. I chose to believe it was only curiosity on my part. He had just returned to camp with a bloody white hare in his jaws. At my request, he stood, stretched, and woefully commanded me, Guard my meat, then. He disappeared into the gathering dusk.
The evening meal of porridge and hearth cakes was just finished cooking when Kettle came into camp with Nighteyes at her heels. She stalked up to the fire and stood warming her hands at it as she glowered at the Fool and me. The Fool and I exchanged a glance. It was a guilty one. I hastily offered Kettle the cup of tea I had just poured for myself. She took it and drank it before she said accusingly, 'You left without me.'
'Yes,' I admitted. 'We did. Kettricken came to us and said we must leave right away, so the Fool and I-'
'I came anyway,' she announced triumphantly, cutting through my words. 'And I intend to go on with you.'
'We are fleeing,' Kettricken said quietly. 'We can't slow our pace for you.'
Sparks near leaped from Kettle's eyes. 'Did I ask you to?' she asked the Queen tartly.
Kettricken shrugged. 'Just so you understand,' she said quietly.
'I do,' Kettle replied as quietly. And it was settled.
I had watched this interchange with a sort of awe. I felt an increase in respect for both of the women afterward. I think I fully grasped then how Kettricken perceived herself. She was the Queen of the Six Duchies and she did not doubt it. But unlike many, she had not hidden behind a title or taken offense at Kettle's quick reply to her. Instead, she had answered her, woman to woman, with respect but also authority. Once more I had glimpsed her mettle and found I could not fault it.
We all shared the yurt that night. Kettricken filled a small brazier with coals from our fire and brought it within. It made the shelter surprisingly comfortable. She posted a watch and included both Kettle and herself in that duty. The others slept well. I lay awake for a time. I was once more on my way to find Verity. That brought a tiny measure of release from the incessant Skillcommand. But I was also on my way to the river where he had laved his hands in raw Skill. That seductive image lurked always at the edge of my mind now. Resolutely I pushed the temptation from my mind, but that night my dreams were full of it. We broke camp early, and were on our way before the day was fairly born. Kettricken bid us discard a second, smaller yurt that had been brought along to accommodate our original larger party. She left it carefully stowed at the stopping place where another might find and make use of it. The freed beast was loaded instead with the bulk of the packs the humans had carried. I was grateful, for the throbbing of my back was unceasing now.
For four days Kettricken held us to that pace. She did not say if she truly expected pursuit. I did not ask. There were no real opportunities for private talk with anyone. Kettricken always led, followed by the animals, the Fool and me, Starling, and often trailing us by quite a distance, Kettle. Both women kept their promises. Kettricken did not slow the pace for the old woman, and Kettle never complained of it. Each night she came into camp late, usually accompanied by Nighteyes. She was often just in time to share our food and shelter for the night. But she arose the moment Kettricken did the next day and never complained.
The fourth night, when we were all within the tent and settling down to sleep, Kettricken suddenly addressed me. 'FitzChivalry, I would have your thoughts on something,' she declared.
I sat up, intrigued by the formality of her request. 'I am at your service, my queen.'
Beside me, the Fool muffled a snicker. I suppose we both looked a bit odd, sitting in a welter of blankets and furs and addressing one another so formally. But I kept my demeanor.
Kettricken added a few bits of dry wood to the brazier to bring up a flame and light. She took out an enameled cylinder, removed the cap, and coaxed out a piece of vellum. As she gently unrolled it, I recognized the map that had inspired Verity to his quest. It seemed odd to look at the faded map in this setting. It belonged to a much more secure time in my life, when hot meals of good food were taken for granted, when my clothes were tailored to fit me and I knew where I would sleep each night. It seemed unfair that my whole world had changed so much since I had last seen the map, but that it remained unchanged, an aging flap of vellum with a worn tracery of lines on it. Kettricken held it flat on her lap and tapped a blank spot on it. 'This is about where we are,' she told me. She took a breath as if bracing herself. She tapped another spot, likewise unmarked. 'This is about where we found the signs of a battle. Where I found Verity's cloak and … the bones.' Her voice quavered a bit on the words. She looked up suddenly and her eyes met mine as they had not since Buckkeep. 'You know, Fitz, it is hard for me. I gathered up those bones and thought they were his. For so many months, I believed him dead. And now, solely on your word of some magic that I do not possess or understand, I try to believe he is alive. That there is hope still. But … I have held those bones. And my hands cannot forget the weight and chill of them, nor my nose that smell.'
'He lives, my lady,' I assured her quietly.
She sighed again. 'Here is what I would ask you. Shall we go directly to where the trails are marked on this map, the ones that Verity said he would follow? Or do you wish to be taken to the battle site first?'
I thought for a time. 'I am sure you gathered from that place all there was to gather, my queen. Time has passed, part of a summer and more than half of a winter since you were last there. No. I can think of nothing I might find there that your trackers did not when the ground was bared of snow. Verity lives, my queen, and he is not there. So let us not seek him there, but where he said he would go.'
She nodded slowly, but if she took heart from my words, she did not show it. Instead, she tapped the map again. 'This road here shown is known to us. It was a trade road once, and although no one even recalls what its destination was, it is still used. The more remote villages and the solitary trappers have their paths to it, and they then follow it down to Jhaampe. We could have been traveling on it all this time, but I did not wish to. It is too well used. We have come by the swiftest route, if not the widest. Tomorrow, however, we shall cross it. And when we do, we shall set our backs toward Jhaampe and follow it up into the Mountains.' Her finger traced it on the map. 'I have never been to that part of the Mountains,' she said simply. 'Few have, other than trappers or occasional adventurers who go to see if the old tales are true. Usually they bring back tales of their own that are even stranger than the ones that prompted them to go adventuring.'
I watched her pale fingers walk slowly across the map. The faint lines of the ancient road diverged into three separate trails with different destinations. It began and ended, that road, with no apparent source or destination. Whatever had once been marked at the end of those lines had faded away into inky ghosts. Neither of us had any way of knowing which destination Verity had chosen. Though they did not look far separated on the map, the terrain of the Mountains could mean they were days or even weeks apart. I also had small trust in such an old map being reliably to scale.
'Where are we going first?' I asked her.
She hesitated briefly, then her finger tapped one of the trail ends. 'Here. I think this one would be closest.'
'Then that is a wise choice.'
She met my eyes again. 'Fitz. Could not you simply Skill to him, and ask him where he is? Or bid him come to us? Or at least ask him why he has not returned to me?'
At each small shake of my head, her eyes grew wilder. 'Why not?' she demanded in a shaking voice. 'This great and secret magic of the Farseers cannot even call him to us in such need?'
I kept my eyes on her face, but wished there had been fewer listening ears. Despite all Kettricken knew of me, I still felt very uneasy speaking of the Skill with anyone save Verity. I chose my words carefully. 'By Skilling to him, I might place him in great danger, my lady. Or draw trouble down on us.'
'How?' she demanded.
I briefly considered the Fool, Kettle, and Starling. It was hard to explain to myself the uneasiness I felt at speaking bluntly of a magic that had been guarded as a secret for so many generations. But this was my queen and she had asked me a question. I lowered my eyes and spoke. 'The coterie Galen made was never loyal to the King. Not to King Shrewd, not to King Verity. Always they were the tool of a traitor, used to cast doubt on the King's abilities and undermine his ability to defend his kingdom.'
From Kettle came a small gasp of indrawn breath, while Kettricken's blue eyes went steely gray with cold. I continued. 'Even now, were I to openly Skill to Verity, they might find a way to listen. By such a Skilling, they might find him. Or us. They have grown strong in the Skill, and ferreted out ways of using it that I have never learned. They spy on other Skill users. They can, using only the Skill, inflict pain, or create illusion. I fear to Skill to my king, Queen Kettricken. That he has not chosen to Skill to me makes me believe my caution is the same as his.'
