sentiments. Burrich's scarred leg had made me more than wary of the great tusked animals.
Rabbits, I suggested to Nighteyes. Let us hunt rabbits.
Rabbits for rabbits, he snorted disdainfully, and dashed off again.
I ignored the insult. The day was just pleasantly cool for hiking and the verdant forest smells were like a homecoming to me. Kettricken led us on, lost in her own thoughts, while Kettle and Starling followed us, caught up in talk. Kettle still tended to walk more slowly, though the old woman seemed to have gained stamina and strength since our journey had begun. But they were a comfortable distance behind us when I quietly asked the Fool, 'Why do you allow Starling to believe you are a woman?'
He turned to me, waggled his eyebrows and blew me a kiss. 'And am I not, fair princeling?'
'I'm serious,' I rebuked him. 'She thinks you are a woman and in love with me. She thought that we had a tryst last night.'
'And did we not, my shy one?' He leered at me outrageously.
'Fool,' I said warningly.
'Ah.' He sighed suddenly. 'Perhaps the truth is, I fear to show her my proof, lest ever afterward she find all other men a disappointment.' He gestured meaningfully at himself.
I looked at him levelly until he grew sober. 'What does it matter what she thinks? Let her think whatever is easiest for her to believe.'
'Meaning?'
'She needed someone to confide in and, for a time, chose me. Perhaps it was easier for her to do that if she believed I was a woman, also.' He sighed again. 'That is one thing that in all my years among your folk I have never become accustomed to. The great importance that you attach to what gender one is.'
'Well, it is important …' I began.
'Rubbish!' he exclaimed. 'Mere plumbing, when all is said and done. Why is it important?'
I stared at him, at a loss for words. It all seemed so obvious to me as to not need saying. After a time, I said, 'Could you not simply tell her you are a man and let the issue be laid to rest?'
'That would scarcely lay it to rest, Fitz,' he replied judiciously. He clambered over a fallen tree and waited for me to follow. 'For then she would need to know why, if I am a man, I do not desire her. It would have to be either a fault in me, or something I perceived as a fault in her. No. I do not think anything needs to be said on that topic. Starling, however, has the minstrel's failing. She thinks that everything in the world, no matter how private, should be a topic for discussion. Or better yet, made into a song. Ah, yes!'
He struck a sudden pose in the middle of the forest trail. His stance was so artfully reminiscent of Starling when she readied herself to sing that I was horrified. I glanced back at her as the Fool launched into sudden, hearty song:
'Oh, when the Fool pisses
Pray tell, what's the angle?
Did we take down his pants
Would he dimple or dangle?'
My eyes darted from Starling to the Fool. He bowed, an embroidery of the elaborate bow that often marked the end of her performances. I wanted at once to laugh aloud and to sink into, the earth. I saw Starling redden and start forward, but Kettle caught at her sleeve and said something severely. Then they both glared at me. It was not the first time that one of the Fool's escapades had embarrassed me, but it was one of the most keenly edged ones. I made a helpless gesture back at them, then rounded on the Fool. He was capering down the path ahead of me. I hastened to catch up with him.
'Did you ever stop to think you might hurt her feelings?' I asked him angrily.
'I gave it as much thought as she gave to whether such an allegation might hurt mine.' He rounded on me suddenly, wagging a long finger. 'Admit it. You asked that question with never a thought as to whether it would hurt my vanity. How would you feel if I demanded proof that you were a man? Ah!' His shoulders slumped suddenly and he seemed to lose all energy. 'Such a thing to waste words on, with all else we must confront. Let it go, Fitz, and I will as well. Let her refer to me as `she' as much as she wishes. I will do my best to ignore it.'
I should have left it alone. I did not. 'It is only that she thinks that you love me,' I tried to explain.
He gave me an odd look. 'I do.'
'I mean, as a man and a woman love.'
He took a breath. 'And how is that?'
'I mean …' It half-angered me that he pretended not to understand me. 'For bedding. For …'
'And is that how a man loves a woman?' he interrupted me suddenly. 'For bedding?'
'It's a part of it!' I felt suddenly defensive but could not say why.
He arched an eyebrow at me and said calmly, 'You are confusing plumbing and love again.'
'It's more than plumbing!' I shouted at him. A bird abruptly flew off, cawing. I glanced back at Kettle and Starling, who exchanged puzzled glances.
'I see,' he said. He thought a bit as I strode ahead of him on the path. Then, from behind me he called out, 'Tell me, Fitz, did you love Molly or that which was under her skirts?'
Now it was my turn to be affronted, But I was not going to let him baffle me into silence. 'I love Molly and all that is a part of her,' I declared. I hated the heat that rose in my cheeks.
'There, now you have said it,' the Fool replied as if I had proven his point for him. 'And I love you, and all that is a part of you.' He cocked his head and the next words held a challenge. 'And do you not return that to me?'
He waited. I desperately wished I had never started this discussion. 'You know I love you,' I said at last, grudgingly. 'After all that has been between us, how can you even ask? But I love you as a man loves another man ….' Here the Fool leered at me mockingly. Then a sudden glint lit his eyes, and I knew that he was about to do something awful to me.
He leaped to the top of a fallen log. From that height, he gave Starling a triumphant look and cried dramatically, 'He loves me, he says! And I love him!' Then with a whoop of wild laughter he leapt down and raced ahead of me on the trail.
I ran my hand back through my hair and then slowly clambered over the log. I heard Kettle laughing and Starling's angry comments. I walked silently through the forest, wishing I'd had the sense to keep my mouth shut. I was certain that Starling was simmering with fury. It was bad enough that lately she had almost no words for me. I had accepted that she found my Wit something of an abomination. She was not the first to be dismayed by it at least she showed some tolerance for me. But now the anger she carried would have a more personal bite to it. One more small loss of what little I had left. A part of me greatly missed the closeness we had shared for a time. I missed the human comfort of having her sleep against my back, or suddenly take my arm when we were walking. I thought I had closed my heart against those needs, but I suddenly missed that simple warmth.
As if that thought had opened a breach in my walls, I suddenly thought of Molly. And Nettle, both in danger because of me. Without warning, my heart was in my throat. I must not think of them, I warned myself, and reminded myself that there was nothing I could do. There was no way I could warn them without betraying them. There was no possible way I could reach them before Regal's henchmen did. All I could do was trust to Burrich's strong right arm, and cling to the hope that Regal did not truly know where they were.
I jumped over a trickling creek and found the Fool waiting for me on the other side. He said nothing as he fell into pace beside me. His merriment seemed to have deserted him.
I reminded myself that I scarcely knew where Molly and Burrich were. Oh, I knew the name of a nearby village, but as long as I kept that to myself, they were safe.
'What you know, I can know.'
'What did you say?' I asked the Fool uneasily. His words had replied so exactly to my thoughts that it sent a chill up my spine.
'I said, what you know, I can know,' he repeated absently.
'Why?'
'Exactly my thought. Why would I wish to know what you know?'
'No. I mean, why did you say that?'
'In truth, Fitz, I've no idea. The words popped into my head and I said them. I often say things I have not well considered.' The last he said almost as an apology.
