Fool’s Fate. Робин Хобб

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this.’ I tried not to sound disgusted with him.

      A strange smile twisted his mouth. Then he took a deep breath as if freed of something. ‘Ah, Fitz, in all the world, only you would say something like that to me. And perhaps you are right. There is drama in facing a definite end; I’ve never encountered these sensations before … yet, in a like situation, I think you would be untouched by them. You tried to explain to me once how the wolf always lived in the present and taught you to take every possible satisfaction you could from the time that you had. You learned that well. While I, who have always lived trying to define the future before I reach it, I suddenly espy a place beyond which all is black. Blackness. That is what I dream of at night. And when I deliberately sit down and try to reach forward, to see where my path might go, that is all I see. Blackness.’

      I did not know what to say to him. I could see him trying to shake off his desperation as a dog might try to shake a wolf’s grip from his throat. I took a sip of the brandy. Apricots and the heady warmth of a summer day flooded me. I recalled our days at my cottage, the brandy on my tongue reawakening the pleasure of that simpler time. ‘This is very good,’ I said to him without thinking.

      Startled, he stared at me. Then he abruptly blinked away tears and the smile he gave me was genuine. ‘Yes,’ he said quietly. ‘You are right. This is very good brandy, and nothing that is to come can change that. The future cannot take from us the days we have left … unless we let it.’

      He had passed some sort of crossroads within himself and was more at peace. I took another swallow of the brandy as I stared out over the hills behind Buckkeep. When I glanced at him, he was looking at me with a fondness I could not bear. He would not have looked at me so kindly if he knew how I deceived him. And yet his terror of the days to come only firmed in me my judgment that I had made the best decision for him. ‘A shame to rush this, but Chade and the others will be waiting.’

      He nodded gravely, lifted his glass in a small toast to me and then tossed off the brandy. I followed his example and then had to stand still while the liquor spread heat throughout me. I took a deep breath, smelling and tasting apricots. ‘It is very good,’ I told him again.

      He smiled small. ‘I’ll leave all the remaining bottles to you,’ he offered very quietly, and then laughed when I glared at him. Yet his step seemed lighter as he followed me through the labyrinth of corridors and stairs that threaded between the walls of Buckkeep. As I moved through the dimness, I wondered how I truly would feel, did I know the hour and day of my death. Unlike Lord Golden, there would be very few possessions for me to disperse. I numbered my treasures to myself, thinking I owned nothing of significance to anyone but myself; then I realized abruptly it wasn’t true. With a pang of selfish regret, I resolved to correct that. We reached the concealed entrance to the Seawatch Tower. I unseated the panel and we emerged from the hearth.

      The others had already gathered so I had no opportunity for a private word to prepare Chade. Instead, as we stepped out, the Prince exclaimed with delight and came forward to welcome Lord Golden. Thick was more cautious, scowling suspiciously. Chade sent me one glance full of rebuke, and then smoothed his face and exchanged greetings with the Fool. But after that first moment of welcome, awkwardness ensued. Thick, unsettled by having a stranger in our midst, wandered aimlessly about the room instead of settling into his place at the table. I could almost see the Prince trying to fit Lord Golden, even dressed so simply, into the role of King Shrewd’s Fool as he had heard the Queen tell the tale. Chade finally said, almost bluntly, ‘So, my dear fellow, what brings you here to join us? It’s wonderful to see you, of course, but we’ve still much to learn and little time in which to learn it.’

      ‘I understand,’ the Fool replied. ‘But there is also little time for me to share with you what I know. So I came hoping for a bit of your time, privately, after the lesson.’

      ‘I think it’s wonderful that you’ve come,’ the Prince broke in artlessly. ‘I think you should have been included from the first. You were the one who let us link our strength and go through you to heal Tom. You’ve as much a right to be a member of this coterie as anyone here.’

      The Fool looked touched by Dutiful’s comments. He looked down at his hands, neatly gloved in black, rubbed his fingertips together almost idly and then admitted, ‘I don’t have any true Skill of my own. I only used what was left of the touch I’d taken from Verity. And my own knowledge of … Tom.’

      At the mention of his father’s name, the Prince had perked up like a foxhound catching a scent. He leaned closer to the Fool, as if his knowledge of King Verity were something that could be absorbed from him. ‘Nonetheless,’ he assured Lord Golden, ‘I look forward to journeying with you. I think you may be a valuable member of this coterie, regardless of your level of Skill. Will not you join us for the day’s lesson and let us explore the extent of your ability?’

      I saw Chade torn. The Fool offered a possibility of greater power for the coterie, which Chade craved; but he feared the Fool’s opposition to our basic mission to take the dragon’s head. I wondered if there was an element of jealousy in how his eyes darted from the Fool to me. The Fool and I had always been close, and Chade knew he wielded a friend’s sway over me. Yet now, more than ever, Chade desired to rule me.

      His greed for the Skill won out. He added his voice to Dutiful’s. ‘Please, Lord Golden, take a seat with us. If nothing else, you may find our efforts amusing.’

      ‘Well, then, I shall,’ the Fool declared almost gladly. He pulled out a chair and sat down expectantly. I wondered if any of the others could see the darker tides running behind the placid affability he presented to them. Chade and I took the chairs on either side of him while Dutiful persuaded Thick to come and join us at the table. When he was settled, four of us simultaneously took a deep breath and reached for that state of openness where we could all reach the Skill. As we did so, I had an insight both affirming and alarming. The Fool was an intruder here. In our short time of striving to become a coterie, we had achieved a unity. I had not perceived it until the Fool interrupted it. As I joined my awareness to Dutiful’s and Thick’s, I could feel Chade fluttering like a frantic butterfly at the edge of our union. Thick reached a reassuring hand to draw him into firmer contact with the rest of us. He belonged with us, but the Fool did not.

      He was not so much a presence as an absence. I had noticed years ago that he was invisible to my Wit-sense. Now, as I deliberately reached toward him with the Skill, it was like trying to lift sun dazzle off a still pond.

      ‘Lord Golden, do you avoid us?’ Chade asked very softly.

      ‘I am here,’ he replied. His words seemed to ripple softly in the room, as if I felt them as well as heard them.

      ‘Give me your hand,’ Chade suggested. He set his own, palm up, on the table, outstretched toward my friend. It seemed as much a challenge as an invitation.

      I felt a minuscule tickle of fear. It quivered along the Skill-bond between the Fool and me, letting me know that link still existed. Then the Fool lifted his gloved hand and set it in Chade’s.

      I could feel him then, but not in any way that is easy to describe. If our combined Skill was a quiet pool, then the Fool was a leaf floating upon it. ‘Reach for him,’ Chade suggested, and we all did. My awareness of the Fool’s uneasiness grew stronger via our bond, but I did not think the others could sense that. They could almost touch him, but he parted before them and joined after them, as if they dragged their fingers through water. It disturbed his presence without making it accessible to them. His fear intensified. I reached along our bond surreptitiously, trying to discover what frightened him.

      Possession. He did not wish to be touched in a way that might let another possess him. Belatedly I recalled what Regal and his coterie had once

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