Fool’s Errand (Tawny Man Trilogy Book One)

It was obvious to me that the Prince wished to make a swift departure, but even so we lingered some time longer, as he made individual farewells and promised his later time and attention to many of them. All of this he managed graciously and well. It came to me that it was the thread of Skill between us that made me aware of his impatience and irritation with all the finely-dressed nobility that surrounded them. As if he were a restive horse, I found myself sending thoughts of calm and patience to him. He glanced at me, but I could not be sure he was aware of my reaching towards him.

One of his companions took his horse’s head from me, and held the animal while the Prince mounted. I held Malta for Lord Golden, and then at a nod from him mounted my own horse. There was yet another round of farewells and good wishes, as if we were setting off on a long journey rather than merely an afternoon ride. Finally, the Prince firmly reined his gelding to one side and touched heels to him. Lord Golden followed him and then I let Myblack go. A chorus of goodbyes rained down behind us.

Despite Chade’s advice, I had little chance to suggest any route for our afternoon ride. The Prince led and we followed to the gates of Buckkeep, where again we had to pause to allow the guards formally to salute and then pass their young prince through the gate. The moment we cleared the gate, Dutiful put his heels to his horse. The pace he set precluded any conversation. He soon turned off the road onto a lesser-travelled trail, and then kicked his grey to a canter. We followed, and I felt Myblack’s satisfaction in the chance to stretch her muscles. She was not so pleased that I held her back, for she knew that she could easily outdistance both Malta and the grey if given her head.

The Prince’s route led us out onto the sunny hillsides. Once there had been forest here, and Verity had hunted deer and pheasant. Now sheep grudgingly ambled out of our way as we crossed open pasturage, and then ventured into the wilder hills beyond. And all this time, we rode in silence. When we left the flocks behind, Dutiful gave his grey a free head and we galloped through the hills as if fleeing an enemy. Myblack had lost a little of her edginess by the time the Prince finally pulled in his mount. Lord Golden moved up to ride behind him as the walking horses snorted and blew. I kept my place behind them until the Prince turned in his saddle and irritably waved me up beside him. I let Myblack advance and the Prince greeted me coldly with, ‘Where have you been? You promised me that you would teach me, and I haven’t even seen you since we returned to Buckkeep Castle.’

I bit back my first response, reminding myself that he spoke as a prince speaks to a servant, not as a boy would address his father. Yet that brief moment of silence seemed to rebuke him as much as words would have done. Not that he looked chastened, but I recognized the stubborn flex of his lips. I took a breath. ‘My prince, it has been scarcely two days since we returned. I had assumed that you would be very busy with the tasks of your reign. In the meantime, I resumed the chores of my own life. If it please my prince, I thought that you would summon me when you required me.’

‘Why do you speak to me like this?’ the Prince demanded angrily. ‘My prince this and my prince that! You didn’t address me in this fashion on our way home. What happened to our friendship?’

I saw the Fool’s warning in Lord Golden’s quick glance, but I ignored it. I kept my voice low and even as I answered. ‘If you rebuke me as you would a servant, my prince, then I assume that I am to respond in a style appropriate to my station.’

‘Stop that!’ Dutiful hissed at me, as if I had mocked him. I suppose in truth that I had. The result was awful. For a moment, his face tightened as if he were on the verge of tears. He spurred ahead of us, and we let him go. Lord Golden gave me a minuscule shake of his head, and then nodded that I should catch up with the lad. I debated making the Prince pull in and wait for us, then decided that perhaps he could not bend so far. A boy’s pride can be very stiff.

I let Myblack move alongside the trotting grey as she wished, but before I could speak to Dutiful, he addressed me. ‘I’ve started this all wrong. I’m beleaguered and frustrated. These last two days have been horrible … just horrible. I’ve had to behave with perfect courtesy even when I wanted to shout, and smilingly accept flowery compliments on a situation I wish to flee. Everyone expects me to be happy and excited. I’ve heard enough ribald tales about wedding nights to gag a goat. No one knows or cares about my loss. No one even noticed my cat was gone. I have no one that I can speak to about it.’ He suddenly choked. He pulled his horse abruptly to a halt and turned in his saddle to face me. He took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry. I apologize, Tom Badgerlock.’

The bluntness of his words and the honest offering of his hand were so like Verity that I knew it was truly his spirit that had fathered this boy. I felt humbled. I gripped the offered hand gravely, then pulled him close enough that I could set a hand upon his shoulder. ‘It’s too late to apologize,’ I told him seriously. ‘I’ve already forgiven you.’ I took a breath as I released him. ‘And I have felt as badgered, my lord, and it has shortened my own temper. So many tasks have fallen to me lately that I’ve scarcely had time to see my own boy. I’m sorry I did not seek you out sooner. I am not sure how we can arrange our meetings without making others aware that I teach you, but you are right. It must be done, and putting it off will not make it easier.’

The Prince’s face had gone very still at my words. I sensed a sudden distancing in him but could not perceive the cause until he asked quietly, ‘Your “own boy”?’

His inflection puzzled me. ‘My foster son. Hap. He is apprenticed to a woodworker in Buckkeep Town.’

‘Oh.’ The single word seemed to fade into silence. Then, ‘I did not know you had a son.’

The jealously was courteously masked but it rang green against my sense of him. I did not know how to react to it. I gave him the truth. ‘I’ve had him since he was eight or so. His mother abandoned him and he had no other folk willing to take him in. He’s a good lad.’

‘But he is not truly your son,’ the Prince pointed out.

I took a breath and replied firmly, ‘In every way that matters, he is a son to me.’

Lord Golden sat his horse at the outskirts of our circle but I dared not glance to him for advice. After a time of silence, the Prince tightened his knees and his horse moved forward at a walk. I let Myblack pace him, the Fool dawdling along behind us. Just when I thought I must break the silence before it became a wall between us, Dutiful blurted out, ‘Then what need have you of me, if you already have a son of your own?’