The Wise Man's Fear

body that isn’t going to go away on its own.”

This seemed to alarm him more than anything I’d said so far. “Won’t I simply pass it?”

I shook my head. “Metals are insidious poisons. They become trapped in your body. Only by a special effort can we leach the lead away.”

Maer scowled. “Damn and bother. I hate leeches.”

“A figure of speech, your grace. Only imbeciles and toad-eaters use leeches in this day and age. The lead needs to be drawn out of you.” I thought about telling him the truth, that he would most likely never be rid of all of it, but decided to keep that bit of information to myself.

“Can you do it?”

I thought for a long moment. “I am probably your best option, your grace. We are a long way from the University. I wager not one in ten physicians here have any respectable training, and I don’t know who among them might know Caudicus.” I thought for a moment longer then shook my head. “I can think of fifty people better suited to the job, but they are a thousand miles away.”

“I appreciate your honesty.”

“Most of what I need I can find down in Severen-Low. However . . .” I trailed off, hoping the Maer would understand my meaning and save me the embarrassment of asking for money.

He stared at me blankly. “However?”

“I will need money, your grace. The things you will need are not easy to come by.”

“Oh, of course.” He produced a purse and passed it to me. I was a little surprised to find the Maer had at least one well-stocked purse within easy arm’s reach of his bed. Unbidden, I remembered my tirade to a tailor in Tarbean years ago. What had I said to him? A gentleman is never far from his purse? I fought down an inappropriate fit of laughter.

Stapes returned shortly after that. In a surprising display of resourcefulness, he produced a dozen sipquicks in a wheeled cage the size of a wardrobe.

“My word, Stapes,” the Maer exclaimed as his manservant rolled the fine mesh cage through the doorway. “You’ve outdone yourself.”

“Where would it suit you best, sir?”

“Just leave it there for now. I’ll have Kvothe move it for me.”

Stapes looked a trifle wounded. “It’s no trouble.”

“I know you’d be glad to do it, Stapes. But I was hoping you would fetch me a fresh pitcher of appledraw instead. I think it might settle my stomach.”

“Certainly.” He hurried out again, closing the door behind him.

As soon as the door was closed, I moved to the cage. The little gemlike birds darted from perch to perch with a blurring speed. “Pretty things,” I heard the Maer muse. “I was fascinated with them as a child. I remember thinking how wonderful it must be to eat nothing but sugar all day.”

There were three feeders wired to the outside of the cage, glass tubes filled with sugar-water. Two of them had spouts shaped like tiny selas blooms, while the third was a stylized iris. The perfect pet for nobility. Who else could afford to feed their pet sugar every day?

I unscrewed the tops of the feeders and poured a third of the Maer’s medicine into each. I held out the empty vial to Alveron. “What do you normally do with these?”

He set it on the table near his bed.

I watched the cage until I saw one of the birds fly to a feeder and drink. “If you tell Stapes you want to feed them yourself, will it keep him from meddling with their food?”

“Yes. He always does exactly as I tell him.”

“Good. Let them drain the feeders before you refill them. They’ll get a better dose that way, and we’ll see results faster. Where do you want me to put the cage?”

He looked around the room, his eyes moving sluggishly. “Next to the chest of drawers in the sitting room,” he said finally. “I should be able to see the cage from here.”

I carefully rolled the cage into the next room. When I returned, I found Stapes pouring the Maer a glass of appledraw.

I made a bow to Alveron. “With your permission, your grace.”

He made a gesture of dismissal. “Stapes, Kvothe will be returning later this afternoon. Let him in, even if I happen to be sleeping.”

Stapes nodded stiffly and gave me another disapproving look.

“He may be bringing me a few things as well. Please don’t mention it to anyone.”

“If there is anything you require . . .”

Alveron gave a tired smile. “I know you would, Stapes. I am simply putting the boy to use. I would rather have you close at hand.” Alveron patted his manservant’s arm, and Stapes looked mollified. I let myself out.

My trip to Severen-Low took hours longer than it needed to. Though I chafed at the delay, it was a necessary one. As I walked the streets, I caught glimpses of folk dogging along behind me.

I wasn’t surprised. From what I had seen of the rumor-driven nature of the Maer’s court, I expected to have a servant or two watching my errands in Severen-Low. As I’ve said, the Maer’s court was rather curious about me at this point, and you have no idea what lengths bored nobility will go to in order to nose about in other people’s business.

While the rumors themselves were of no concern to me, their effects could be catastrophic. If Caudicus heard I had gone shopping through apothecaries after visiting the Maer, what steps would he take? Anyone willing to poison the Maer wouldn’t hesitate to snuff me like a candle.

So, to avoid suspicion, the first thing I did when I came to Severen was buy dinner. Good, hot stew and rough bread. I was sick to death of elegant food that was milk-warm by the time it made its way to my rooms.

Afterward I bought two tippling flasks, the sort normally used for brandy. Then I spent a relaxing half-hour watching a small traveling troupe perform the end of The Ghost and the Goosegirl on a street corner. They weren’t Edema Ruh, but they did a good job of it. The Maer’s purse was generous to them when they passed the hat.

Eventually I found my way to a well-stocked apothecary. I bought several things in a nervous, haphazard manner. After I had everything I needed and a few things I didn’t, I awkwardly made inquiries with the owner about what a man might take if he was . . . having certain troubles . . . in the bedroom.

The chemist nodded seriously and recommended several things with a perfectly straight face. I bought a little of each, then made a bumbling attempt to threaten and bribe him into silence. By the time I finally left, he was insulted and thoroughly irritated. If anyone asked, he would be quick to tell the story of a rude gentleman interested in impotence cures. It was hardly something I was eager to add to my reputation, but at least there wouldn’t be any stories making their way back to Caudicus about my purchasing laudanum, deadnettle, bitefew, and other equally suspicious drugs.

Lastly, I bought my lute back from the pawner with an entire day to spare. It nearly emptied the Maer’s purse, but it was my final errand. The sun was setting by the time I made my way back to the foot of the Sheer.

There were only a handful of options for making your way between Severen-High and Severen-Low. The most ordinary were the two narrow staircases that cut back and forth up the face of the Sheer. They were old, crumbling, and narrow in places, but they were free, and therefore the usual choice for the common folk who lived in Severen- Low.

For those who didn’t relish the thought of climbing two hundred feet of narrow stairway, there were other options. The freight lifts were run by a pair of former University students. Not full arcanists, but clever men who knew enough sympathy and engineering to manage the rather mundane task of hauling wagons and horses up and down the Sheer on a large wooden platform.

For passengers, the freights cost a penny going up and a halfpenny going down, though you’d occasionally have to wait for some merchant to finish loading or unloading his goods before the lift could make its trip.

Nobility didn’t use the freights. The Vintic suspicion of all things remotely arcane took them to the horse lifts. These were drawn by a team of twenty horses hitched to a complex series of pulleys. This meant the horse lifts were a little faster and cost a full silver eighth-bit to ride. Best of all, every month or so some drunk lordling would