Robin Hobb

The Tawny Man Series Books 2 and 3


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I kept the thoughts to myself. ‘And what happened?’

      ‘To them? Nothing. But Whitecap was dead in her stall the next morning.’

      For a moment, I couldn’t speak. Whitecap was Laurel’s horse, a willing and responsive creature that had been her pride. When I kept silent, she glared at me. ‘I know what you’re thinking.’ She lowered her voice to an ugly, taunting whisper. “She’s not Witted. The horse was no more to her than a horse, just a thing she rode.” But that’s not true. I raised Whitecap from a foal, and she was my friend as well as my beast. We didn’t have to share a mind to share a heart.’

      ‘I didn’t think anything of the kind,’ I said very quietly. ‘I’ve numbered many animals as my friends, without sharing the special bond of the Wit with them. Anyone who had seen you with Whitecap knew that the horse worshipped you.’ I shook my head. ‘I feel sick that you protected our horses, and paid for it with your own.’

      I don’t know if she even heard me. She was staring at the scarred tabletop as she spoke. ‘She … she died slowly. They gave her something, somehow, that lodged in her throat and choked her as it swelled. I think … no, I know. It was their ultimate mockery, that I came from an Old Blood family but did not have the magic in me. If I had, I would have known that she was in trouble. I would have come to her and saved her. When I found her, she was down, her muzzle and chest all soaked in saliva and blood … She died slowly, Tom, and I wasn’t even there to ease it for her or say goodbye.’

      Shock that a Witted person could do so cruel a thing froze me like an icy wave. It was evil past my imagining. I felt tainted that people who shared my magic could stoop to such wickedness. It gave substance to all the evil things said of the Witted.

      She took a sudden gasping breath and turned to me blindly. Her face was panicky with a pain she did not want to admit. I lifted my arm and she put her face against my chest as I folded her in my embrace. ‘I’m sorry,’ I whispered by her ear. ‘I’m so sorry, Laurel.’ She didn’t weep, but only took long, shuddering breaths as I held her. She was past weeping, and nearly past fear. I thought to myself that if the Piebalds succeeded in pushing her to fury, they might face a stronger foe than they had intended to create. If they didn’t kill her first. I shifted in my chair. Habit had made me place my back to the wall. Now I deliberately sought a full view of the tavern and any who might have followed her here.

      It was then that I saw Jinna. She had probably come to the tavern to look for me after speaking with her niece. She stood by the door she had just entered. For a fraction of an instant, our gazes met. She stared, stricken, at the woman I embraced. My eyes pleaded with her, but her face went cold. Then her gaze skated past me as if she had neither seen nor recognized me. She turned and departed, her stiff back speaking volumes to me.

      Frustration squeezed my heart. I was doing nothing wrong, and yet Jinna’s posture as she left the tavern told me how affronted she was. Nor could I leave Laurel sitting alone and inebriated to hurry after Jinna and explain to her, even if I had felt inclined to do so. So I sat stewing in my discomfort while Laurel took several more deep breaths and recovered herself. She sat up abruptly, almost pushing me away. I released her from my embrace. She rubbed her eyes and then picked up her mug and drained it off. I had scarcely touched mine.

      ‘This is stupid of me,’ Laurel suddenly announced. ‘I came here because I’d heard a rumour that Witted ones congregated here. I came hoping someone would approach me so I could kill him. I’d probably just be killed. I don’t know how to fight that way.’

      I saw a disturbing thing in her eyes then. They had gone calculating and cold as she considered just how she did know how to fight. ‘You should leave the fighting to those who –’

      ‘They should have left my horse alone,’ she broke in blackly, and I knew she would not hear anything else I said on that topic.

      ‘Let’s go home,’ I offered.

      She gave me a weary nod and we left the tavern. The cold streets were lit only by what lamplight leaked from the windows. As we left the houses behind and began the long walk up the dark road to the keep, I asked her unwillingly, ‘What will you do? Will you leave Buckkeep?’

      ‘And go where? Take this home to my family? I think not.’ She drew a breath and sighed it out, steaming, in the cold night. ‘Yet I think you are right. I cannot stay here. What will they do next? What is worse than killing my horse?’

      We both knew several answers to that. The rest of the way, we walked in silence. Yet she was neither angry nor taciturn. I could sense her eyes straining through the uncertain moonlight, and her head turned to every small sound. My vigilance matched hers. I broke the silence once, to ask, ‘Is it true, that Witted go to the Stuck Pig?’

      She gave a shrug. ‘So it is said of that tavern. Folk say it of many dives. “Fit for the Witted.” Surely you’ve heard that phrase before.’

      I hadn’t, but I filed the information away. Perhaps in that slander lurked a germ of truth. Was there a tavern in Buckkeep Town where the Witted congregated? Who would know? What might I learn there?

      Just past the gates of Buckkeep Castle, I saw her ‘apprentice’ hastening to meet us. He wore a worried expression. At the sight of me, it changed to a snarl. Laurel sighed and took her hand from my arm. She walked unsteadily towards him and he all but swooped her up. Despite whatever her soft words were, he glared at me suspiciously before escorting her to her chambers. Before I sought my own room for the night, I made a quick and quiet tour of the stables. Myblack greeted me with her usual warm show of indifference. I could scarcely blame the horse; I had not had much time for her lately. In truth, she was to me ‘just a horse’. I rode her when Lord Golden rode Malta, but other than that, I trusted her care to the stablehands. It suddenly seemed a callous way to treat her, but I knew that I had no time to give her more. I wondered what the Piebalds had intended. If our horses had been left in the far paddock, would they have been stolen? Or worse?

      Wit-sense straining, I strolled past every stall and scrutinized every drowsy stablehand there. I saw no one whom I recognized, and Laudwine was not lurking beneath the stairs or outside the door. Nonetheless, I did not feel at ease until I was in Chade’s upper chambers that night. He was not there, but I left him a full written account.

      We discussed it the next day, but came to no real conclusion. He would rebuke Laurel’s bodyguard for letting her slip away alone. He could not think of any way to keep Laurel safer without confining her even more tightly. ‘And she would not care for that. She does not like that I have a man beside her. Yet, what more can I do, Fitz? She is valuable to us, for it may be she will draw these Piebalds out of hiding.’

      ‘At what cost?’ I had asked him harshly.

      ‘As little as we can make it,’ he replied grimly.

      ‘Why did they want my horse and Lord Golden’s?’

      Chade lifted a brow at me. ‘You know more of Witted magic than I do. Could they ensorcel them to throw you, or somehow use them to listen in on your words?’

      ‘The Wit doesn’t work that way,’ I said wearily. ‘Why our horses? Why not Prince Dutiful’s? It is almost as if the Fool and I were their targets rather than the Prince.’

      Chade looked uncomfortable. Almost reluctantly, he suggested quietly, ‘A cautious man might wish to follow that thought and see where it led.’

      I stared at him, wondering what the old assassin was telling me in his obscure way. He folded his lips and shook his head at me, as if he regretted having spoken the words. Shortly after that, he made an excuse to leave. I sat pondering before the fire.

      In the days that followed, I felt too uncomfortable to call on Jinna. I knew it was foolish, but there it was. I did not feel I owed her an explanation, but I was sure she would expect one. No convenient lie came to me to explain why I had been embracing Laurel in the Stuck Pig. I did not want to discuss Laurel with Jinna at all. It would lead her too close to dangerous topics. Hence, I did not visit Jinna at all.

      On the occasions when I went