couldn’t meet my eyes. ‘Yessir.’
When he didn’t reach for the purse, I took his hand in mine, turned it palm up and put the sack into it. When I let go of his hand, he still stood staring up at me. I pointed at the door to the stairwell. He turned, stunned, and stumbled toward the door. With his hand on it, he halted. ‘You don’t understand what it’s like for me there,’ he whispered feebly.
‘Yes. I do. Far better than you might imagine. Go home, bow your head to your father’s discipline and serve your family until you reach your majority, as an honest boy should. Didn’t your parents raise you? Didn’t they give you life, put food on your plate, clothes on your back, shoes on your feet? Then it is only right that your labour belongs to them, until you are legally a man. Then you can openly go your own way. You will have years after that to discover your magic, years of your own, rightfully earned, to live as you please. Your Wit can wait until then.’
He halted by the door and leaned his head against it for a moment. ‘No. My magic won’t wait.’
‘It will have to!’ I told him harshly. ‘Now go home, Swift. Leave today.’
He ducked his head, pushed the door open and left, shutting it behind him. I listened to his fading footsteps on the stair and felt his presence fade from my Wit-sense. Then I let out my breath in a long sigh. I had sent him to do a hard thing. I hoped Burrich’s son had the spine to do it. I hoped, without real belief, that the boy’s return would be enough to mend the family. I wandered over to the parapet wall and stood staring down at the rocks below.
Do not disdain those who find that their strongest Skill-talent is in the fashioning of dreams. It is a talent most often manifested among Solos. These lone Skill-users, while not as effective as a coterie, can employ their unique talents to serve their monarchs in ways both subtle and effective. Ominous dreams sent to an enemy lord can make him reconsider his actions, while dreams of victory and glory can fortify the courage of any military leader. Dreams can be rewards, and in some cases can offer balm to those who are discouraged or weary at heart.
Treeknee’s Lesser Uses of the Skill
That evening I told Chade that Swift had become desperately homesick and that I’d sent him home in the hopes that he could mend things with Burrich. The old man nodded distractedly: the boy was the least of his concerns.
I also told him of my conversation with Web, finishing with, ‘He knows who I am. I think he has since he arrived here.’
Chade’s reaction to that was more emphatic. ‘Damn! Why must you start coming unravelled now, when I have so much else to deal with?’
‘I don’t think I’m unravelling,’ I said stiffly. ‘Rather I think that this is knowledge that someone has possessed all along, and now it has come round to bite us. What do you suggest I do?’
‘Do? What can you do?’ he demanded testily. ‘It’s known, boy. All we can do is hope that Web truly has as much goodwill toward us as he appears to have. And that the knowledge is not widespread amongst the Witted.’ He thumped a leather case to settle the scrolls inside and then began to tie it shut. ‘Holly, you say?’ he asked after a moment. ‘You think Holly told Web?’
‘So he seemed to imply.’
‘And when is the last time you saw her?’
‘Years ago, when I lived among the Witted. She was Rolf’s wife.’
‘I know that! My wits aren’t failing me that badly.’ He pondered while he rolled the next scroll up. ‘There isn’t time,’ he finally announced. ‘I’d send you off to see this Holly if there was, to discover how many people she has told. But there just isn’t time. So, think with me, Fitz. How will they use this?’
‘I’m not sure that Web intends to use it at all. The way he said it was as if he wished to help me. I felt no threat from him, nor even that he was holding my secret over my head. It was more as if he were urging me toward honesty with Swift as the best way to break through to him.’
‘Hmm.’ The old man replied thoughtfully, tying the last case shut. ‘Push the teapot this way.’ Then, as he poured, ‘Web is a puzzle, isn’t he? The man knows a great deal, and it isn’t just those Witted tales he tells. I would not call him an educated man, yet, as he puts it, anything he has ever decided he needed to know, he’s found a way to learn.’ Chade’s gaze went distant as he spoke. Plainly he had spent some time pondering Web’s significance. ‘I did not like Civil’s proposal that Dutiful have a “Witted Coterie” as he did not have a Skilled one. No public mention has been made of such a thing. Yet, nonetheless, it seems to have come into existence. There is Civil Bresinga with his cat, that minstrel Cockle and Web. All plan to accompany us on this voyage. And I sense, though the Prince is reluctant to speak of it, that they are a “coterie” of sorts. There is a closeness when all of them are in the room that excludes me. Web is plainly the heart-stone of the group. He is more like a priest than a leader; that is, he does not command, but he counsels them, and speaks often of serving “the spirit of the world” or “the divine”. He has no qualms that such words may make him appear foolish. If he had ambitions, he’d be a dangerous man. With what he knows, he could bring all of us tumbling down. The very few times he has spoken to me, it has been in a very indirect way. I feel as if he is urging us toward an action, but he does not tell us what it is that he hopes we will do. Hmm.’
‘So.’ I ticked the possibilities off on my fingers. ‘Maybe Web simply wanted me to be honest with Swift. Well, with the boy gone, that’s no longer an issue. But perhaps he wants me to reveal to all who I really am. Or perhaps he wants the Farseers to admit that the Prince is Witted. Or, if the two things were presented at once, it would be as good as saying that the Wit runs in the Farseer blood.’ And then my tongue froze. Did the Wit truly run in the Farseer line? The last prince to have definitely had it was the Piebald Prince, and he had left no issue. The crown had passed to a different Farseer bloodline. So, perhaps I had got the Wit from my Mountain-bred mother. And passed it on when Verity had usurped my body for the conception of Dutiful. That was a little bit of the puzzle that I’d never given Chade, nor did I ever intend to. Dutiful, I was convinced, was the son of Verity’s spirit. Yet now I wondered uncomfortably if by the use of my body, Verity had passed on some of my tainted magic to his son.
‘Fitz,’ Chade said, and I startled at his voice, my thoughts having carried me so far afield. ‘Don’t worry so. If Web meant to do us harm, there’d be little advantage in tipping his hand. He’s going with us on the Prince’s quest, so we can keep an eye on him. And talk to him. You, especially, should seek him out. Pretend you wish to learn more of the Wit. That will win him over to you.’
I sighed softly. I was sick of deception. I said as much to Chade. He snorted callously.
‘You were born for deception, Fitz. Born for it. Just as I was, just as all bastards are. We’re tricky things, sons but not heirs, royal but not princes. I would have thought that by now you would have accepted that.’
I only said, ‘I’ll try to get to know Web better on the voyage and see what he’s about.’
Chade nodded sagely. ‘A ship’s a good place to do that. Little for
