The Wise Man's Fear

by Patrick Rothfuss

  It seems a testament to the strength of their blood that they have survived so much for so long. Indeed, if not for the burning of Caluptena, we might possess records tracing the Lackless family back far enough for them to rival the royal line of Modeg in its antiquity. . . .

  I tossed the book onto the table in a way that would have made Master Lorren spit blood. If the Maer thought this sort of information was enough to woo a woman, he was in worse need of my help than he thought.

  But as things currently stood, I doubted the Maer would be asking me for any help with anything, least of all something as sensitive as his courting. Yesterday he hadn’t summoned me to his rooms at all.

  I was clearly out of favor, and I sensed Stapes had a hand in it. Given what I had seen two nights ago in Caudicus’ tower, it was fairly obvious Stapes was part of the conspiracy to poison the Maer.

  Though it meant spending all day trapped in my rooms, I stayed where I was. I knew better than to jeopardize Alveron’s already low opinion of me by approaching him without being summoned first.

  An hour before lunch Viscount Guermen stopped by my rooms with a few pages of handwritten gossip. He also brought a deck of cards, apparently thinking to take a page from Bredon’s book. He offered to teach me how to play thrush, and, as I was just learning the game, agreed to play for the pittance of a single silver bit per hand.

  He made the mistake of letting me deal, and left in a bit of huff after I won eighteen hands in a row. I suppose I could have been more subtle. I could have played him like a fish on a line and bilked him for half his estate, but I was in no mood for it. My thoughts were not pleasant, and I preferred to be alone with them.

  An hour after lunch, I decided I was no longer interested in currying favor with the Maer. If Alveron wished to trust his treacherous manservant, that was his business. I’d be damned if I would spend one more minute sitting idle in my room, waiting by the door like a whipped dog.

  I threw on my cloak, grabbed my lute case, and decided to take a walk down Tinnery Street. If the Maer needed me while I was away, he could damn well leave a note.

  I was halfway into the hall when I saw the guard standing at attention outside my door. He was one of Alveron’s own, clad in sapphire and ivory.

  We stood for a moment, motionless. There was no sense in asking if he was there on my account. Mine was the only door for twenty feet in any direction. I met his eye. “And you are?”

  “Jayes, sir.”

  At least I still rated a “sir.” That was worth something. “And you’re here because . . .?”

  “I’m to accompany you if you leave your room. Sir.”

  “Right.” I stepped back into my room and closed the door behind me.

  Were his orders from Alveron or Stapes? It didn’t really matter.

  I went out my window, into the garden, over the little streamlet, behind a hedgerow, and up a section of decorative stone wall. My burgundy cloak was not the best color for sneaking around in the garden, but it worked quite nicely against the red of the roofing tiles.

  After that I made my way onto the roof of the stables, through a hayloft, and out the back door of a disused barn. From there it was just a matter of jumping a fence and I was off the Maer’s estate. Simple.

  I stopped at twelve inns on Tinnery Street before I found the one where Denna was staying. She wasn’t there, so I continued along the street, keeping my eyes open and trusting to my luck.

  I spotted her an hour later. She was standing at the edge of a crowd, watching a street corner a production of, believe it or not, Three Pennies for Wishing.

  Her skin was darker than when I’d seen her last at the University, tanned from travel, and she wore a high-necked dress after the local fashion. Her dark hair fell in a straight sheaf across her back, all except a single slender braid that hung close to her face.

  I caught her eye just as Deadnettle shouted out his first line in the play:I’ve cures for what ails you!

  My wares never fails you!

  I’ve potions for pennies, results guaranteed!

  So if you’ve got a dicky heart,

  Or can’t get her legs apart,

  Come straightaway to my cart,

  You’ll find what you need!

  Denna smiled when she saw me. We might have stayed for the play, but I already knew the ending.

  Hours later, Denna and I were eating sweet Vintish grapes in the shadow of the Sheer. Some industrious stonemason had carved a shallow niche into the white stone of the cliff, making smooth seats of stone. It was a cozy place we had discovered while walking aimlessly through the city. We were alone, and I felt myself to be the luckiest man in the world.

  My only regret was that I didn’t have her ring with me. It would have been the perfect unexpected gift to go with our unexpected meeting. Worse yet, I couldn’t even tell Denna about it. If I did, I’d be forced to admit I’d used it as collateral for my loan with Devi.

  “You seem to be doing fairly well for yourself,” Denna said, rubbing the edge of my burgundy cloak between her fingers. “Have you given up the bookish life?”

  “Taking a vacation,” I hedged. “Right now I’m assisting the Maer Alveron with a thing or two.”

  Her eyes widened appreciatively. “Do tell.”

  I looked away uncomfortably. “I’m afraid I can’t. Delicate matters and all that.” I cleared my throat and tried to change the subject. “What of you? You seem to be doing fairly well yourself.” I brushed two fingers across the embroidery that decorated the high neck of her dress.

  “Well I’m not rubbing elbows with the Maer,” she said, making an exaggerated deferential gesture in my direction. “But as I mentioned in my letters, I—”

  “Letters?” I asked. “You sent more than one?”

  She nodded. “Three since I left,” she said. “I was about to start a fourth, but you’ve saved me the trouble.”

  “I only got the one,” I said.

  Denna shrugged. “I’d rather tell you in person, anyway.” She paused dramatically. “I finally have my formal patronage.”

  “You have?” I said, delighted. “Denna, that’s wonderful news!”

  Denna grinned proudly. Her teeth were white against the light nut color of her travel-tanned face. Her lips, as always, were red without the aid of any paint.

  “Is he part of the court here in Severen?” I asked. “What’s his name?”

  Denna’s grin faded into a serious look, a confused smile playing around her mouth. “You know I can’t tell you that,” she chided. “You know how closely he guards his privacy.”

  My excitement fell away, leaving me cold. “Oh no. Denna. It’s not the same fellow as before, is it? The one who sent you to play for that wedding in Trebon?”

  Denna looked puzzled. “Of course it is. I can’t tell you his real name. What was it you called him before? Master Elm?”

  “Master Ash,” I said, and it felt like a mouthful of ashes when I said it. “Do you at least know his real name? Did he tell you that much before you signed up?”

  “I expect I know his real name,” she shrugged, running a hand through her hair. When her fingers touched the braid she seemed surprised to find it there and quickly began to unravel it, her deft fingers smoothing it away. “Even if I don’t, what does it matter? Everyone has secrets, Kvothe. I don’t particularly care what his are so long as he continues to deal square with me. He’s been very generous.”

  “He’s not just secretive, Denna,” I protested. “From the way you’ve described him, I’d say he’s either paranoid or tangled up in dangerous business.”

  “I don’t know why you’re carrying such a grudge against him.”

  I couldn’t believe she could say that. “Denna, he beat you senseless.”

  She went very still. “No.” Her hand went to the fading bruise on her cheek. “No he didn’t. I told you. I fell while I was out riding. The stupid horse couldn’t tell a stick from a snake.”

  I shook my head. �
�I’m talking about last fall in Trebon.”

  Denna’s hand fell back to her lap where it made an absentminded fidgeting gesture, trying to toy with a ring that wasn’t there. She looked at me, her expression blank. “How did you know about that?”

  “You told me yourself. That night on the hill, waiting for the draccus to come.”

  She looked down, blinking. “I . . . I don’t remember saying that.”

  “You were a little addled at the time,” I said gently. “But you did. You told me all about it. Denna, you shouldn’t have to stay with someone like that. Anyone who could do that to you . . .”

  “He did it for my own good,” she said, her dark eyes beginning to flicker with anger. “Did I tell you that? There I was without a scratch on me and everyone else at the wedding dead as leather. You know what small towns are like. Even after they found me unconscious they thought I might have had something to do with it. You remember.”

  I put my head down and shook it like an ox worrying its yoke. “I don’t believe it. There had to be another way around the situation. I would have found another way.”

  “Well I guess we can’t all be as clever as you,” she said.

  “Clever doesn’t have anything to do with it!” I came close to shouting. “He could have taken you away with him! He could have come forward and vouched for you!”

  “He couldn’t let anyone know he was there,” Denna said. “He said—”

  “He beat you.” And as I spoke the words I felt a terrible anger come together inside me. It wasn’t hot and furious, as some of my flashes of temper tend to be. This was different, slow and cold. And as soon as I felt it, I realized it had been there inside me for a long while, crystallizing, like a pond slowly freezing solid over a long winter night.

  “He beat you,” I said again, and I could feel it inside, a solid block of icy anger. “Nothing you can say will change that. And if I ever see him, I’ll likely stick a knife in him rather than shake his hand.”

  Denna looked up at me then, the irritation fading from her face. She gave me a look that was all sweet fondness and mingled pity. It was the sort of look you give a puppy when it growls, thinking itself terribly fierce. She put her hand gently on the side of my face, and I felt myself flush hot and hard, suddenly embarrassed by my own melodrama.

  “Can we not argue about it?” she asked. “Please? Not today? It’s been so long since I’ve seen you. . . .”

  I decided to let it go rather than risk driving her away. I knew what happened when men pressed her too hard. “Fair enough,” I said. “For today. Can you at least tell me what sort of thing your patron brought you out here for?”

  Denna leaned back in her seat, smiling a wide smile. “Sorry, delicate matters and all that,” she mimicked.

  “Don’t be that way,” I protested. “I’d tell you if I could, but the Maer values his privacy very highly.”

  Denna leaned forward again to lay her hand over mine. “Poor Kvothe, it’s not out of spite. My patron is at least as private as the Maer. He made it very clear that things would go badly if I ever made our relationship public. He was quite emphatic about it.” Her expression had gone serious. “He’s a powerful man.” She seemed as if she would say more, then stopped herself.

  Though I didn’t want to, I understood. My recent brush with the Maer’s anger had taught me caution. “What can you tell me about him?”

  Denna tapped a finger against her lips thoughtfully. “He’s a surprisingly good dancer. I think I can say that without betraying anything. He’s quite graceful,” she said, then laughed at my expression. “I’m doing some research for him, looking into old genealogies and histories. He’s helping me write a couple songs so I can make a name for myself. . . .” She hesitated, then shook her head. “I think that’s all I can say.”

  “Will I get to hear the songs after you’re done?”

  She gave a shy smile. “I think that can be arranged.” She leapt to her feet and grabbed my arm to pull me to my feet. “Enough talking. Come and walk with me!”

  I smiled, her enthusiasm as infectious as a child’s. But when she pulled at my hand, she let out a tiny yelp, flinching and pressing one of her hands to her side.

  I was standing next to her in a second. “What’s the matter?”

  Denna shrugged and gave me a brittle smile, holding her arm close to her ribs. “My fall,” she said. “That stupid horse. I get a twinge when I forget and move too quickly.”

  “Has anyone looked at it?”

  “It’s just a bruise,” she said. “And the sort of doctor I can afford, I wouldn’t trust to touch me.”

  “What of your patron?” I asked. “Certainly he could arrange something.”

  She slowly straightened. “It’s really not a problem.” She lifted her arms above her head and made a quick, clever dance step, then laughed at my serious expression. “No more talk of secret things for now. Come walk with me. Tell me dark and lurid gossip from the Maer’s court.”

  “Very well,” I said as we began to walk. “I’ve heard the Maer is marvelously recovered from a long-standing illness.”

  “You’re a poor rumormonger,” she said. “Everyone knows that.”

  “The Baronet Bramston played a disastrous deck of faro last night.”

  Denna rolled her eyes. “Boring.”

  “The Comptess DeFerre lost her virginity while attending a performance of Daeonica.”

  “Oh,” Denna raised her hand to her mouth, stifling a laugh. “Did she really?”

  “She certainly didn’t have it with her after the intermission,” I said in a hushed voice. “But it turns out she had just left it behind in her rooms. So it was merely misplaced, not really lost. The servants found it two days later when they were cleaning up. Turns out, it had rolled underneath a chest of drawers.”

  Denna’s expression turned indignant. “I can’t believe I believed you!” She swatted at me, then grimaced again, sucking a sharp breath through her teeth.

  “You know,” I said softly. “I’ve been trained at the University. I’m not a physicker, but the medicine I know is good. I could take a look at it for you.”

  She gave me a long look, as if she wasn’t quite sure what to make of my offer. “I think,” she said at last, “that might be the most circumspect route anyone has ever tried for getting me out of my clothes.”

  “I . . .” I felt myself blush furiously. “I didn’t mean . . .”

  Denna laughed at my discomfiture. “If I let anyone play doctor with me, it would be you, my Kvothe,” she said. “But I’ll tend to it for now.” She linked arms with me and we continued our walk down the street. “I know enough to take care of myself.”

  I returned to the Maer’s estate hours later, taking the direct route rather than come in over the rooftops. When I arrived in the hallway leading to my room, I found two guards standing there instead of the single one that had been waiting before. I guessed they had discovered my escape.

  Even this couldn’t dampen my spirits overmuch, as the time I’d spent with Denna had left me feeling twelve feet tall. Better yet, I was meeting with her tomorrow to go riding. Having a specific time and place to meet was an unexpected treat where Denna was concerned.

  “Good evening, gentlemen,” I said as I came down the hall. “Anything interesting happen while I was out?”

  “You’re to be confined to your rooms,” Jayes said grimly. I noticed he left off the “sir” this time.

  I paused with my hand on the doorknob. “Beg pardon?”

  “You’re to remain in your rooms until we get further orders,” he said. “And one of us is to stay with you at all times.”

  I felt my temper flare up. “And does Alveron know about this?” I asked sharply.

  They looked at each other uncertainly.

  It was Stapes giving the orders then. That uncertainty would be enough to keep them from laying hands on me. “Let’s get this sorted out straightaway,” I said, and started down the hall at a brisk
walk, leaving the guards to catch up with me, their armor clattering.

  My temper fanned itself hotter as I made my way through the halls. If my credibility with the Maer was truly ruined, I preferred to have done with it now. If I couldn’t have the Maer’s good will, I would at least have my freedom and the ability to see Denna when I wished.

  I turned the corner just in time to see the Maer emerging from his rooms. He looked as healthy as I had ever seen him, carrying a sheaf of papers under one arm.

  As I approached, irritation flashed across his face and I thought he might simply have the guards carry me away. Nevertheless, I approached him as boldly as if I had a written invitation. “Your grace,” I said with cheery cordiality. “Might we talk for a moment?”

  “Certainly,” he replied in a similar tone as he swung open the door he had been about to close behind himself. “Do come in.” I watched his eyes and saw an anger as hot as mine. A small, sensible part of me quailed, but my temper had the bit in its teeth and was galloping madly ahead.

  We left the bemused guards in the antechamber, and Alveron led me through the second set of doors into his personal rooms. Silence hung dangerous in the air, like the calm before a sudden summer storm.

  “I cannot believe your impudence,” the Maer hissed once the doors were closed. “Your wild accusations. Your ridiculous claims. I mislike public unpleasantness so we will deal with this later.” He made an imperious gesture. “Return to your rooms and do not leave until I decide how best to deal with you.”

  “Your grace—”

  I could tell by the set of his shoulders that he was ready to call the guards. “I do not hear you,” he said flatly.

  He met my gaze then. His eyes were hard as flint and I saw how angry he truly was. This wasn’t the anger of a patron or employer. It wasn’t someone irritated by my failure to respect the social order. This was a man who had ruled everything around him from the age of sixteen. This man thought nothing of hanging someone from an iron gibbet to make a point. This was a man who, but for a twist of history, would now be king of all Vintas.