By night I ran as a wolf.
The first time I thought it a singularly vivid dream. The wide stretch of white snow with the inky tree shadows spilled on it, the elusive scents on the cold wind, the ridiculous fun of bounding and digging after shrews that ventured out of their winter burrows. I awoke clear-minded and good-tempered.
But the next night I dreamed again so vividly. I awoke knowing that when I blocked from Verity and hence myself my dreams of Molly, I left myself wide to the wolf's night thoughts. Here was a whole realm where not Verity nor any Skilled one could follow me. It was a world bereft of court intrigues or plotting, of worries and plans. My wolf lived in the present. I found his mind clean of the cluttering detail of memories. From day to day, he carried only that necessary to his survival. He did not remember how many shrews he had killed two nights ago, but only larger things, such as which game trails yielded the most rabbits to chase or where the spring ran swift enough that it never iced over.
This, then, was when and how I first showed him how to hunt. We did not do so well at first. I still arose very early each morning to take him food as needed. I told myself that it was but a small corner of my life that I kept for myself. It was as the wolf had said, not a thing I did, but something I was. Besides, I promised myself, I would not let this joining become a full bond. Soon, very soon, he would be able to hunt for himself, and I would send him away to be free. Sometimes I told myself that I only permitted him into my dreams that I might teach him to hunt, the sooner to set him free. I refused to consider what Burrich would think of such a thing.
I returned from one of my early-morning expeditions to find two soldiers sparring with one another in the kitchen yard. They had staves and were good-naturedly insulting one another as they huffed and shifted and traded whacks in the cold clear air. The man I did not know at all, and for a moment I thought both were strangers. Then the woman of the pair caught sight of me. 'Ho! FitzChivalry. A word with you!' she called, but without retiring her stave.
I stared at her, trying to place her. Her opponent missed a parry and she clipped him sharply with her stave. As he hopped she danced back and laughed aloud, an unmistakable high-pitched whinny. 'Whistle?' I asked incredulously.
The woman I had just addressed flashed her famous gaptoothed smile, caught her partner's stave a ringing blow, and danced back again. 'Yes?' she asked breathlessly. Her sparring partner, seeing her occupied, courteously lowered his stave. Whistle immediately darted hers at him. With so much skill he almost looked lazy, his stave leaped up to counter hers. Again she laughed and held up her hand to ask a truce.
'Yes,' she repeated, this time turning to me. 'I've come… that is, I've been chosen to come and ask a favor of you.'
I gestured at the clothes she wore. 'I don't understand. You've left Verity's guard?'
She gave a tiny shrug, but I could see the question delighted her. 'But not to go far. Queen's guard. Vixen badge. See?' She tugged the front of the short white jacket she wore to hold the fabric taut. Good sensible woolen homespun, I saw, and saw, too, the embroidered snarling white fox on a purple background. The purple matched the purple of her heavy woolen trousers. The loose pants cuff had been tucked into knee boots. Her partner's garb matched hers. Queen's guard. In light of Kettricken's adventure, the uniform made sense.
'Verity decided she needed a guard of her own?' I asked delightedly.
The smile faded a bit from Whistle's face. 'Not exactly,' she hedged, and then straightened as if reporting to me. 'We decided she needed a Queen's guard. Me and some of the others that rode with her the other day. We got to talking about… everything, later. About how she handled herself out there. And back here. And how she came here, all alone. We talked about it then, that someone should get permission to form up a guard for her. But none of us really knew how to approach it. We knew it was needed, but no one else seemed to be paying much attention… but then last week, at the gate, I heard you got pretty hot about how she'd gone out, on foot and alone, and no one at her back. Well, you did! I was in the other room, and I heard!'
I bit back my protest, nodded curtly, and Whistle went on: 'So. Well, we just did. Those of us who felt we wanted to wear the purple and white just said so. It was a pretty even split. It was time to take in some new blood anyway; most of Verity's guard was getting a bit long in the tooth. And soft, from too much time in the Keep. So we re-formed, giving rank to some who should have made it long ago, if there'd been any openings to fill, and taking in some recruits to fill in where needed. It all worked out perfectly. These newcomers will give us something to hone our skills on while we teach them. The Queen will have her own guard, when she wants one. Or needs one.'
'I see.' I was beginning to get an uneasy feeling. 'And what was the favor you wanted of me?'
'Explain it to Verity. Tell the Queen she has a guard.' She said the words simply and quietly.
'This walks close to disloyalty,' I said just as simply. 'Soldiers of Verity's own guard, setting aside his colors to take on his queen's…'
'Some might see it that way. Some might speak it that way.' Her eyes met mine squarely, and the smile was gone from her face. 'But you know it is not. It's a needed thing. Your… Chivalry would have seen it, would have had a guard for her before she even arrived here. But King-in-Waiting Verity… well, this is no disloyalty to him. We've served him well, because we love him. Still do. This is those who've always watched his back, falling back and re-forming to watch his back even better. That's all. He's got a good Queen, is what we think. We don't want to see him lose her. That was all. We don't think any the less of our King-in-waiting. You know that.'
I did. But still. I looked away from her plea, shook my head, and tried to think. Why me? a part of me demanded angrily. Then I knew, that in the moment I'd lost my temper and berated the guard for not protecting their queen, I'd volunteered for this. Burrich had warned me about not remembering my place. 'I will speak to King-in-Waiting Verity. And to the Queen, if he approves this.'
Whistle flashed her smile again. 'We knew you'd do it for us. Thanks, Fitz.'
As quickly she was spinning away from me, stave at the ready as she danced threateningly toward her partner, who gave ground grudgingly. With a sigh, I turned away from the courtyard. I had thought Molly would be fetching water at this time. I'd hoped for a glimpse of her. But she was not, and I left feeling disappointed. I knew I should not play at such games, but some days I could not resist the temptation. I left the courtyard.
The last few days had become a special sort of self-torture for me. I refused to allow myself to see Molly again, but could not resist shadowing her. So I was in the kitchen but a moment after she had left, fancying I could still catch the trace of her perfume in the air. Or I stationed myself in the Great Hall of an evening, and tried to be where I could watch her without being noticed. No matter what amusement was offered, minstrel or poet or puppeteer, or just folk talking and working on their handicrafts, my eyes would be drawn always to wherever Molly might be. She looked so sober and demure in her dark blue skirts and blouse, and she had never a glance for me. Always she spoke with the other Keep women, or on the rare evenings when Patience chose to descend, she sat beside her and attended to her with a focus of attention that denied I even existed. Sometimes I thought my brief encounter with her had been a dream. But at night I could go back to my room and take out the shirt I had hidden in the bottom of my clothes chest, and if I held it close to my face, I fancied I could still smell the faint trace of her perfume upon it. And so I endured.
A number of days had passed since we had burned the Forged ones on their funeral pyre. In addition to the formation of the Queen's guard, other changes were afoot within and without the Keep. Two other master boat builders, unsummoned, had come to volunteer their skills for the building of the ships. Verity had been delighted. But even more so had Queen Kettricken been approved, for it was to her that they presented themselves, saying that they desired to be of service. Their apprentices came with them, to swell the ranks of those working in the shipyards. Now the lamps burned both before dawn and after the sun's setting, and work proceeded at a breakneck pace. So Verity was away all the more, and Kettricken, when I called on her, was more subdued than ever. I tempted her with books or outings to no avail. She spent most of her time sitting near idly at her loom, growing more pale and listless with every passing day. Her dark mood infected those ladies who attended her, so that to visit her room was as cheery as keeping a deathwatch.
I had not expected to find Verity in his study, and was not disappointed. He was down at the boat sheds, as always. I left word with Charim to ask that I be summoned whenever Verity might have the time to see me. Then, with a resolve to keep myself busy and to do as Chade had suggested, I returned to my room. I took both dice and tally sticks with me, and headed for the Queen's chambers.
I had resolved to teach her some of the games of chance that the lords and ladies were fond of, in the hopes that she might expand her circle of entertainments. I also hoped, with less expectations, that such games might draw her to socialize more widely and to depend less on my companionship. Her bleak mood was beginning
