Fool’s Errand. Robin Hobb

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      If Chade made that connection, he gave no sign of it. He returned eagerly to the fireside with his flask. ‘Have you a twist of paper? I didn’t bring any.’

      I found him some, and watched dubiously as he took a long strip of my paper, folded it lengthwise, and then judiciously tapped a measure of powder down the groove of the fold. Carefully he folded the paper over it, folded it again, and then secured it with a spiralling twist. ‘Now watch this!’ he invited me eagerly.

      I watched with trepidation as he set the paper into the fire on the hearth. But whatever it was supposed to do, flash or sparkle or make a smoke, it didn’t. The paper turned brown, caught fire, and burned. There was a slight stink of sulphur. That was all. I raised an eyebrow at Chade.

      ‘That’s not right!’ he protested, flustered. Working swiftly, he prepared another twist of paper, but this time he was more generous with the powder from the small flask. He set the paper in the hottest part of the fire. I leaned back from the hearth, braced for the effect, but again we were disappointed. I rubbed my mouth to cover a grin at the chagrin on his face.

      ‘You’ll think I’ve lost my touch!’ he declared.

      ‘Oh, never that,’ I responded, but it was hard to keep the mirth from my voice. This time the paper he prepared was more like a fat tube, and powder leaked from it as he twisted it closed. I stood up and retreated from the fireplace as he set it onto the flames. But as before, it only burned.

      He gave a great snort of disgust. He peered down the dark neck of the small flask, then shook it. With an exclamation of disgust, he stoppered it. ‘Damp got into it somehow. Well. That’s spoiled my show.’ He tossed the flask into the fire, a mark of high dudgeon for Chade. As I sat back down by the hearth, I sensed the keenness of his disappointment and felt a touch of pity for the old man. I tried to take the sting from it. ‘It reminds me of the time I confused the smoke powder with the powdered lancet root. Do you remember that? My eyes watered for hours.’

      He gave a short laugh. ‘I do.’ He was silent for a time, smiling to himself. I knew his mind wandered back to our old days together. Then he leaned forwards to set his hand to my shoulder. ‘Fitz,’ he demanded earnestly, his eyes locking with mine. ‘I never deceived you, did I? I was fair. I told you what I was teaching you, from the very beginning.’

      I saw then the lump of the scar between us. I put my hand up to cover his. His knuckles were bony, his skin gone papery thin. I looked back into the flames as I spoke to him. ‘You were always honest with me, Chade. If anyone deceived me, it was myself. We each served our king, and did what we must in that cause. I won’t come back to Buckkeep. But it’s not because of anything you did, but only because of who I’ve become. I bear you no ill will, for anything.’

      I turned to look up at him. His face was very grave, and I saw in his eyes what he had not said to me. He missed me. His asking me to return to Buckkeep was as much for himself as for any other reason. I discovered then a small share of healing and peace. I was still loved, by Chade at least. It moved me and I felt my throat tighten with it. I tried to find lighter words. ‘You never claimed that being your apprentice would give me a calm, safe life.’

      As if to confirm those words, a sudden flash erupted from my fire. If my face had not been turned towards Chade, I suppose I might have been blinded. As it was, a blast like lightning and thunder together deafened me. Flying coals and sparks stung me, and the fire roared suddenly like an angry beast. We both sprang to our feet and scrambled back from the fireplace. An instant later, a fall of soot from my neglected chimney put out most of the hearth fire. Chade and I scurried about the room, stamping out the glowing sparks and kicking pieces of burning flask back onto the hearth before the floor could take fire. The door burst open under Nighteyes’ assault on it. He flew into the room, claws scrabbling for purchase as he slid to a halt.

      ‘I’m fine, I’m fine,’ I assured him, and then realized I was yelling past the ringing in my ears. Nighteyes gave a disgusted snort at the smell in the room. Without even sharing a thought with me, he stalked back into the night.

      Chade suddenly slapped me several times on the shoulder. ‘Putting out a coal,’ he assured me loudly. It took us some time to restore order and renew the fire in its rightful place. Even so, he pulled his chair back from it, and I did not sit down on the hearth. ‘Was that what the powder was supposed to do?’ I asked belatedly when we were resettled with more Sandsedge brandy.

      ‘No! El’s balls, boy, do you think I’d deliberately do that in your hearth? What I’d been producing before was a sudden flash of white light, almost blinding. The powder shouldn’t have done that. Still. I wonder why it did? What was different? Damn. I wish I could remember what I last stored in that flask …’ He knit his brows and stared fiercely into the flames, and I knew his new apprentice would be put to puzzling out just what had caused that blast. I did not envy him the series of experiments that would undoubtedly follow.

      He spent the night at my cottage, taking my bed while I made do with Hap’s. But when we arose the next morning, we both knew the visit was at an end. There suddenly seemed to be nothing else to discuss, and little point to talking about anything. A sort of bleakness rose in me. Why should I ask after folk I’d never see again, why should he tell me of the current crop of political intrigues when they had no touch on my life at all? For one long afternoon and evening, our lives had meshed again, but now as the grey day dawned, he watched me go about my homely tasks; drawing water and throwing feed to my poultry, cooking breakfast for us and washing up the crockery. We seemed to grow more distant with every awkward silence. Almost I began to wish he had not come.

      After breakfast, he said he must be on his way and I did not try to dissuade him. I promised him he should have the game scroll when it was finished. I gave him several vellums I had written on dosages for sedative teas, and some roots for starts of the few herbs in my garden that he did not already know. I gave him several vials of different coloured ink. The closest he came to trying to change my mind was when he observed that there was a better market for such things in Buckkeep. I only nodded, and said I might send Hap there sometimes. Then I saddled and bridled the fine mare and brought her around for him. He hugged me goodbye, mounted, and left. I watched as he rode down the path. Beside me, Nighteyes slipped his head under my hand.

       You regret this?

      I regret many things. But I know that if I went with him and did as he wishes, I would eventually regret that much more. Yet I could not move from where I stood, staring after him. It wasn’t too late, I tempted myself. One shout, and he’d turn about and come back. I clenched my jaws.

      Nighteyes flipped my hand with his nose. Come on. Let’s go hunting. No boy, no bows. Just you and I.

      ‘Sounds good,’ I heard myself say. And we did, and we even caught a fine spring rabbit. It felt good to stretch my muscles and prove that I could still do it. I decided I was not an old man, not yet, and that I, as much as Hap, needed to get out and do some new things. Learn something new. That had always been Patience’s cure for boredom. That evening as I looked about my cottage, it seemed suffocating rather than snug. What had been familiar and cosy a few nights ago now seemed threadbare and dull. I knew it was just the contrast between Chade’s stories of Buckkeep and my own staid life. But restlessness, once awakened, is a powerful thing.

      I tried to think when I had last slept anywhere other than my own bed. Mine was a settled life. At harvest time each year, I took to the road for a month, hiring out to work the hay fields or the grain harvest or as an apple picker. The extra coins were welcome. I had used to go into Howsbay twice a year, to trade my inks and dyes for fabric for clothing and pots and things of that ilk. The last two years, I had sent the boy on his fat old pony. My life had settled into routine so СКАЧАТЬ