Fool’s Fate. Робин Хобб

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СКАЧАТЬ scowled in thought. ‘Didn’t King Shrewd have a sword? What became of it?’

      ‘Doubtless he did. As to what became of it, I’ve no idea. Perhaps Patience had the right of it; perhaps Regal sold it or carried it off for other scavengers to steal after he died. In any case, it’s gone. When the time comes for you to ascend the throne, I think you should carry the King’s sword. And when you sail for Aslevjal, I think you should wear your father’s sword.’

      ‘I shall. But won’t folk wonder where I got it?’

      ‘I doubt it. We’ll have Chade put out some tale that he has been holding it for you. Folk love stories of that sort. They’ll be happy to accept it.’

      He nodded thoughtfully, then said slowly, ‘It takes some of the pleasure from it, that you cannot carry Chivalry’s sword as openly as I shall carry this one.’

      ‘For me also,’ I replied with painful honesty. ‘Would that I could, Dutiful. But that is simply how it is. I’ve a sword given to me by Lord Golden, also of a quality that exceeds my skill. I’ll carry that. If I ever lift a blade to defend you, it had better be an axe.’

      He looked down, pondering. Then he set his hand to the hilt of Chivalry’s sword. ‘Until the day when you give this sword back to me, on the day I am crowned, I wish it to remain here with you.’ He took a breath. ‘And when I take your father’s sword from you, I will return my father’s sword to you.’

      That was a gesture I could not refuse.

      Soon he left as he had come, taking Verity’s sword with him. I made myself a fresh cup of tea and sat considering my father’s blade. I tried to think what it meant to me, but encountered only a curious absence inside myself. Even my recent discovery that he had not ignored me, but had Skill-watched me through his brother’s eyes did not make up for his physical absence in my life. Perhaps he had loved me, from afar, but Burrich had been the one to discipline me and Chade the one to teach me. I looked at the blade and groped for a sense of connection, for any emotion at all, but could not find one. By the time I had finished my tea, I still had no answer, nor was I completely certain what my question was. But I had resolved that I would find time to see Hap again before I departed.

      I went to bed, successfully claiming the pillow from Gilly. Nonetheless, I slept badly, and even that poor rest was interrupted. Nettle edged into my dreams like a child reluctantly seeking comfort. It was a peculiar contrast. In my dream, I was crossing a steep scree slope from my sojourn in the Mountains. I had crossed this avalanche-prone incline carrying the Fool’s lax body. I was not so burdened in my dream, but the mountainside seemed steeper and the fall eternal. Loose pebbles shifted treacherously under my feet. At any moment I might go sliding off the face of the mountain like the small stones rattling past me. My muscles ached with tension and sweat streamed down my back. Then I caught a flash of motion at the corner of my eye. I turned my head slowly, for I dared risk no swift movement. I discovered Nettle sitting calmly uphill from me, watching my agonized progress.

      She sat amongst grass and wildflowers. Her gown was green and her hair decked with tiny daisies. Even to my father’s eyes, she looked more woman than child, but she sat like a little girl, her knees drawn up under the chin and her arms clasped around her legs. Her feet were bare and her eyes troubled.

      Such was our dichotomy. I still struggled to retain my footing on the unstable slope. In her dream, adjoining mine, she sat in a mountain meadow. Her presence forced me to admit that I dreamed, and yet I could not surrender the exertion of my nightmare. I did not know if I feared I would be swept to my death or thrust into wakefulness. So, ‘What is it?’ I called to her as I continued my inching progress across the mountain’s face. It mattered not how many steps I took: solid ground remained ever distant, while Nettle kept her place above me.

      ‘My secret,’ she said quietly. ‘It gnaws at me. So I have come to ask your advice.’

      She paused but I did not reply. I did not want to know her secret, or to offer advice. I could not commit myself to helping her. Despite the dream, I knew I was leaving Buckkeep soon. Even if I stayed, I could not venture into her life without the risk of destroying it. Better to remain a vague dream-thing on the edge of her reality. Despite my silence, she spoke to me.

      ‘If someone gives her word to keep silent about a thing, not realizing how much pain it will bring, not just to herself but to others, is she bound to keep her word?’

      That was too grave a question to leave unanswered. ‘You know the answer to that,’ I panted. ‘A woman’s word is her word. She keeps it, or it is worth nothing.’

      ‘But I did not know the trouble it would cause when I gave it. Nim goes about like half a creature. I did not know that Mama would blame Papa, nor that Papa would take to drink over it, blaming himself more deeply than she does.’

      I halted. It was dangerous to do so, but I turned to face her. Her words had plummeted me into a deeper danger than the chasm that yawned below me. I spoke carefully. ‘And you think you’ve found a way around the word you gave. To tell me what you promised not to tell them.’

      She lowered her forehead to her knees. Her voice was muffled when she spoke. ‘You said you knew Papa, long ago. I do not know who you truly are; but perhaps you know him still. You could speak to him. The last time Swift ran away, you told me when he and Papa were safely on their way home to us. Oh, please, Shadow Wolf! I don’t know what your connection to my family is, but I know it exists. In trying to aid Swift, I have nearly torn us apart. I have no one else to turn to. And I never promised Swift that I would not tell you.’

      I looked down at my feet. She had changed me into her image of me. Her dream was devouring mine. Now I was a man-wolf. My black claws dug into the loose gravel. Moving on all fours, with my weight lower, I clawed my way up the slope toward her. When I was close enough to see the dried salt track of tears on her cheeks, I growled, ‘Tell me what?’

      It was all the permission she needed. ‘They think Swift ran away to sea, for so we made it seem, he and I. Oh, do not look at me like that! You don’t know what it was like around here! Papa was a perpetual storm cloud and Swift near as bad. Poor Nim slunk around like a whipped dog, ashamed to win praise from Papa because his twin could not share it. And Mama, Mama was like a mad woman, every night demanding to know what ailed them, and both of them refusing to answer. There was no peace in our house any more, no peace at all. So when Swift came to me and asked me to help him slip away, it seemed the wise thing to do.’

      ‘And what sort of aid did you give him?’

      ‘I gave him money, money that was mine, to use as I pleased, money I had earned myself helping with the Gossoin’s lambing last spring. Mama often sent him to town, to make deliveries of honey or candles. I thought up the plan for him, that he would start asking neighbours and folk in town about boats and fishing and the sea. And then, at the last, I wrote a letter and signed Papa’s name as I have become accustomed to doing for him. His eyes … Papa can still write, but his hand wanders for he cannot see the letters he is forming. So, of late, I have written things for him, the papers when he sells a horse and such. Everyone says that my hand is just like his; probably because he taught me to make my letters. So …’

      ‘So you wrote a letter for Swift saying that his father had released him and that he could go forth and do as he pleased with his life.’ I spoke slowly. Every word she spoke burdened me more. Burrich and Molly quarrelled, and he took to drink again. His sight was failing him, and he believed he had driven his son away. Hearing these things rent me, for I knew I could not mend any of them.

      ‘It can be difficult for СКАЧАТЬ