The Complete Tawny Man Trilogy Omnibus

by Robin Hobb

  He no longer needed to shout for his voice to reach me. He spoke in a confidential manner. ‘And that is why it is so unnatural that you should oppose us. I confess, having you answer that one question alone is enough to make me postpone your death.’ Warmth for me shone in his eyes and genuine curiosity came into his voice. ‘Why, in the name of the life and death that Eda and El encircle, do you stand like this against your own kind? Do you like what is done to us? The floggings, the hangings, the quartering and burning? Why do you support it?’

  I let my own voice ring out to all of them. ‘Because what you seek to do to this boy is wrong! What the woman did to her cat is wrong! You take to yourself the name of Piebalds and claim pride in your lineage, yet you go against what Old Blood teaches. How can you condone what she has done to her cat, let alone what she wishes to do to the Prince?’

  The light in the big man’s eyes went cold. ‘He is a Farseer. Can anything be done to him that he does not merit, a thousand times over?’

  At those words, the Prince stiffened in my grasp. ‘Laudwine, is that truly what you believe?’ The youth and incredulity in Dutiful’s voice was heartbreaking. ‘You spoke me fair when I rode with you. You said that eventually I could become the king who would unite all my folk under equal justice. You said …’

  Laudwine shook his head in disdain for Dutiful’s gullibility. ‘I would have said anything to have you come along quietly. I bought time with fair words, until the bond was knitted strong enough. I’ve had signs through the cat that the task is done. Peladine can take you any time now. If there were not a knife at your throat just now, she’d already have you. But Peladine has no wish to die twice. Once was quite enough for her. Hers was a slow death, coughing and gasping as she grew weaker every day. Even my mother’s was swifter. They hung her, true, but she was not quite dead when they cut her in quarters to feed their fire. And my father, well, I am sure that the time in which he watched Regal Farseer’s soldiers dispose of my mother seemed to last years.’ He smiled unpleasantly at Dutiful. ‘So you see, my family’s relationship with the Farseers is a long one. The debt is an old one, Prince Dutiful. I think the only pleasant time that Peladine had in her last year were the hours in which we spent planning this for you. It is only fitting that a Farseer should actually restore a life for the ones that have been taken from me.’

  And there it was. The seed of hate from which all this had sprung. Once more, the Farseers did not have to see far to know whence their ill fortune came. The Prince’s pitfall was built from his uncle’s arrogance and cruelty. Hatred was the legacy Regal had bequeathed to me as well, but my heart closed against the sympathy that flared in me. The Piebalds were my enemies. Regardless of what they had suffered, they had no right to this boy. ‘And what was Peladine to you, Laudwine?’ I asked evenly. I suspected I knew the answer, but he surprised me.

  ‘She was my womb-sister, my twin, as like to me as woman can be to man. Bereft of her, I am the last of my line. Is that reason enough for you?’

  ‘No. But it is for you. You would do anything to have her live again in human flesh. You’d help her steal this boy’s body to house her mind. Even though that goes against every Old Blood teaching we hold dear.’ I let my voice ring with righteousness. If my words shocked any of his warriors, they hid it well.

  Laudwine halted his horse a sword’s length away from us. He leaned down to fix me with his stare. ‘There’s more to it than a brother’s grief. Break your lackey’s bonds to the Farseer family and think for yourself. Think for your own kind. Forget our old customs of limiting ourselves. Old Blood is a gift from Eda, and we should use it! There is great opportunity here, for all of us who bear Old Blood. We have a chance to be heard. Let the Farseers admit to themselves what legend has long said is true; the Wit is in their blood as thick as the Skill. This boy will be king someday. We can make him ours. When he steps into power, he can end the persecution we have endured so long.’

  I bit my lower lip in a show of thoughtfulness. Laudwine could little imagine what decision I truly weighed. If I did as he wished, the Farseer line would still have its heir, in body at least. Nettle could live a life of her own, free of fate’s entangling web. And there might be good in it, for the Old Blood and the Six Duchies. All I had to do was surrender Dutiful to a life of torment. The Fool and my wolf could go free, and Nettle could live, and perhaps the Old Blood could eventually be free of persecution. Even I could live. Give up a boy I scarcely knew to buy all that. One single life, weighed against all those others.

  I made my decision.

  ‘If I thought you spoke true –’ I began, and then halted. I stared at Laudwine.

  ‘You might come over to us?’

  He believed me to be a man caught between death and compromise. I let uncertainty show in my eyes, and then gave the briefest possible nod. I reached up one-handed and tugged at my collar, loosening it. Jinna’s beads peeped out at him. You like me, I begged him. Trust my words. Desire me for a friend. Then I spoke my coward’s speech. ‘I could be useful to you, Laudwine. The Queen expects Lord Golden to bring the Prince back to her. If you kill him and the Prince goes back alone, they will wonder what became of Golden, and why. If you let us live, and we take the Prince back to them, well, I can explain away the changes in his demeanour. They’ll accept him back unquestioningly.’

  His eyes wandered over me, deliberating. I watched him convince himself. ‘And Lord Golden would go along with what you said?’

  I made a small sound of derision. ‘He has not the Wit. He has only his eyes to tell him that we have regained the Prince alive and unharmed. He will think only of his hero’s welcome at Buckkeep. He will believe that I negotiated the Prince’s freedom, and be glad to claim the credit for it at court. In fact, he will witness me doing it. Take us to where you hold him. Let us make a show for him. Send him on his way with my wolf, assuring him that the Prince and I will follow.’ I nodded sagely as if confirming the thought to myself. ‘Actually, it is best if he is well on his way. He should not witness the woman taking over the boy. He might wonder what was amiss with him. Let Lord Golden be gone first.’

  ‘You seem very concerned for his safety,’ Laudwine probed.

  I shrugged. ‘He pays me well to do very little. And he tolerates my wolf. We are both getting on in years. Such a post is not easily found.’

  Laudwine grinned, but in his eyes I saw his secret contempt for my servant’s ethic. I opened my collar more.

  He glanced at Dutiful. The boy’s eyes were fixed on his face. ‘A problem,’ Laudwine observed softly. ‘The boy has no benefit in our bargain. He may well betray it to Lord Golden.’

  I felt Dutiful draw breath to speak. I tightened my grip on him, asking for silence while I thought, but he spoke anyway. ‘My interest is in living,’ he said clearly. ‘However poor an existence it may become. And in my cat. For she is true to me, even if your sister is false to both of us. I will not abandon the cat to her. And if she takes my body from me, then perhaps that is the price I must pay, for letting a Piebald make a fool of me with promises of fellowship. And love.’ His voice was steady, and pitched to carry. Beyond Laudwine’s shoulder, I saw two of his riders look aside, as if Dutiful’s words pained them. But no one spoke up on his behalf.

  A thin smile twisted Laudwine’s mouth. ‘Then our pact is made.’ He extended his free hand towards me, as if we would seal the bargain with a touch. He smiled disarmingly at me. ‘Take your knife from the boy’s throat.’

  I gave him a wolf’s smile in return. ‘I think, not just yet. You have said this Peladine can take him at any time? Perhaps, if she does, you will think you have no need of me. You might kill me, let your sister have the boy, and then present him to Lord Golden, the hostage freed to return to court. No. We will do it my way. Besides, this lad may change his feelings about what we do. The knife helps him remember that my will is what will be.’ I wondered if Dutiful would hear my promise enfolded in those words. I kept my eyes fixed on Laudwine and d
id not vary my tone. ‘Let me see Lord Golden remounted and set free, with my wolf at his side. Then, when I see how you keep your word, I will surrender us both to your will.’

  Feeble, feeble plan. My true strategy went no further than getting them to take us to the Fool and Nighteyes. I continued to hold my smile and gaze on Laudwine but I was aware of the others edging their horses closer. My grip on the knife was steady. At some point, the Prince had reached up to grasp my wrist. I had scarcely been aware of his touch, for although it looked like he resisted my blade, he did not. In truth, it was almost as if he held the knife steady against his own throat.

  ‘We will do it your way,’ Laudwine conceded at last.

  It was an awkward business to mount Myblack whilst keeping my knife a threat to the Prince, but we managed it. Dutiful was almost too co-operative a victim; I feared Laudwine would see. I would have given much, just then, for the Prince to have been trained in Skilling. Our thread of joining was too fine for me to know his thoughts, nor did he know how to focus his mind towards mine. All I could sense was his anxiety and determination. Determination to do what, I could not divine. Myblack was not pleased with the doubled burden she had to carry, and my heart misgave me. Not only did I risk making her injury worse, or permanent, but if it became necessary to flee, she would already be weary and sore. Every hitch of Myblack’s limp was a rebuke to me. But I had no alternative. We rode, following Laudwine, and his companions closed in around us. They did not look well disposed towards me. I recognized a woman from our brief battle. I did not see either of the men I had fought. The Prince’s former companions showed no evidence of sympathy or friendship for him now. He did not seem to see them, but rode looking forwards with the point of my knife pressed high against his ribs.

  We turned back and cut across the hillsides, past the barrow and towards the forest. The land we crossed hummocked oddly, and I soon decided that many years ago, a town of some sort had stood here. Meadow and woods had taken the land again, but land that has borne the plough ever after lies flatter. Moss had coated the stony walls that had once divided pastureland, and grass grew upon that, amidst the thistle and bramble that seem to love such stony places. No one lives forever; the walls seemed to say. Four stones stacked atop one another will outlive all your dreams and still stand when your descendants have long forgotten that you lived here.

  Dutiful was silent as we rode. I kept my knife at his ribs. I do believe that if I had felt the woman take over his body, I would have pushed the blade home. His mind seemed far away. I used the time to assess our captors. There was an even dozen, including Laudwine.

  We came at last to a cave cut into the side of a hill. Long ago, someone had added stone walls to extend the space. The remnants of a wooden gate hung drunkenly to one side. Sheep, I thought. It would be a good place to hold sheep at night, with the cave for shelter if rain or snow came too strong. Myblack lifted her head and gave a whinny of greeting to Malta and the three other horses tethered there. I made it fifteen of them, a respectable force to take on, even if there had been more than one of me.

  I dismounted with the others and pulled the Prince down after me. He staggered as he landed on his feet and I caught him. His lips were moving as if he whispered to himself, but I heard nothing. His eyes seemed glassy and distant. I set the knife firmly to his throat. ‘If she tries to take him before the others are freed, I’ll still kill him,’ I warned them. Laudwine looked surprised by my threat. Then, ‘Peladine!’ he bellowed. In reply, a hunting cat came bounding out of the cave. She fixed me with a hateful stare. Her slow advance towards me was the angry step of a thwarted woman, not a cat’s stalk.

  The Prince had dropped his gaze to the cat. He said nothing, but I felt the ragged sigh of his breath as it escaped him. Laudwine advanced to the cat and then went down on one knee to speak quietly to her. ‘I’ve struck a bargain,’ he told her quietly. ‘If we let his friends go free, he gives us the Prince unscathed. More, he escorts you back to Buckkeep and helps you become accepted there.’

  I don’t know if some sign of affirmation passed between them, or if Laudwine simply assumed her consent. When he stood, he spoke more loudly. ‘Inside. Your companions are there.’

  I was horribly reluctant to follow him into that cave. Out in the open, we had some small chance of escape. Inside, we would be cornered. The only thing I could promise myself was that they would not get Dutiful. To cut his throat would be the work of an instant. I was not so certain I could give myself a quick death let alone Nighteyes or the Fool.

  Within the cave, a small fire burned, and my stomach complained at the smell of roasting meat. A camp of sorts had been pitched there, but to my eyes it had the look of a brigands’ den rather than a military encampment. The thought warned me that I should not be entirely confident that Laudwine had control of his people. Because they followed him did not mean they were subject to him. That cheery thought was entertaining me as I searched the shadowy interior of the cave while Laudwine was quietly conferring with the folk he had left on guard there. He had not placed anyone in charge of us. All eyes were on him, and I eased away from the crowd. A few noticed my movement, but no one protested it. Jinna’s charm still rode outside my shirt and I smiled disarmingly. Obviously, I was going deeper into the cave, not trying to escape to the outdoors. It was another indication of how informal Laudwine’s command was. My fear that the Piebalds were some sort of Witted army dissolved into a sickening suspicion that they were actually a Witted mob.

  My heart found my friends before my eyes. I saw two huddled shapes on the floor at the back of the cave. I did not ask permission. With my knife at Dutiful’s throat, I walked us to them.

  Towards the back of the cave, the ceiling dropped and the rock walls narrowed. In that little space, they slept. Their bed was the Fool’s cloak, or what remained of that fine garment. Nighteyes sprawled on his side, caught in the sleep of exhaustion. The Fool lay beside him, his body curled protectively around the wolf’s. They were both filthy. The Fool had a strip of bandaging tied around his brow. The gold of his skin had gone sallow and one side of his face was marred with bruises. Someone had taken his boots, and his narrow, pale feet looked bruised and vulnerable. The wolf’s throat was matted with blood and saliva, and his breathing had a whistle in it.

  I wanted to drop to my knees beside them, but I feared to take my knife from Dutiful’s throat.

  ‘Wake up,’ I bade them, quietly. ‘Wake up, you two. I’ve come back for you.’

  The wolf’s ears flicked, and then he opened an eye to me. He shifted, trying to lift his head and the stirring woke the Fool as well. He opened his eyes and stared at me, unbelieving. Despair dragged at his face.

  ‘You have to get up,’ I warned him quietly. ‘I’ve struck a bargain with the Piebalds, but you’ll have to get up and be ready to move. Can you walk? Both of you?’

  The Fool had the owlish look of a child awakened in deep night. He sat up stiffly. ‘I … what sort of a bargain?’ He looked at the charm at my throat, made a small sound, and deliberately pulled his eyes away. Hastily I tugged my collar closed. Let no charm cloud his mind now, no artificial affection make him reluctant to leave when he could.

  Laudwine was coming towards us, Dutiful’s hunting cat at his side. He did not look pleased that I had managed to talk to his captives without him present. I spoke quickly, letting my voice carry to him. ‘You two go free or I kill the Prince. But once you are free, the Prince and I will follow. Trust me.’

  And my time to speak to them alone had gone. The wolf sat up ponderously, levering himself off the floor. When he stood, his hindquarters swayed and he staggered a step sideways before he recovered. He smelled foul, of old blood and piss and infection. I did not have a hand free to touch him. I was too busy threatening Dutiful’s life. He came to lean his bloodied head against my leg, and our thoughts flowed in the contact. Oh, Nighteyes.

  Little brother. You lie.

  Yes. I lie to them all. Can you get the Sc
entless One back to Buckkeep for me?

  Probably not.

  It eases my heart to hear you say that. It’s so much better than ‘We’ll all die here.’

  I would rather stay and die beside you.

  I would rather not witness that. It would distract me from what I must do.

  What of Nettle, then?

  This thought was harder to share with him. I cannot steal the life of one for the sake of the other. I do not have that right. If we all must die, then … My thoughts sputtered to a halt. I thought of the strange moments that I’d shared in the flow of the Skill with that great other presence. I groped for some sort of comfort for us. Perhaps the Fool is wrong, and time cannot be shifted from its course. Perhaps it is all determined before we are born. Or perhaps the next White Prophet will choose a better Catalyst.

  I felt him dismiss my philosophical musing. Give him a clean death, then.

  I will try.

  It was the merest trickle of thought between us, sieved through his pain and caution. It was like rain after a drought. I cursed myself for all the years we had shared this, and I had let my soul go yearning after the Skill. The end of this sharing loomed before me, and I only now perceived the full sweetness of all we had known. My wolf was a tottering step or two from death. I would likely kill myself, or be killed, before the afternoon was over. The dilemma of what one of us would do when the other died had been snatched away from us, and replaced with the reality. Neither of us would go on forever.

  The Fool had managed to stand. His golden eyes searched my face desperately but I dared show him nothing. He drew himself up and became Lord Golden when Laudwine began speaking. The Piebald leader’s voice was rich and polished, his powers of persuasion like a warming cloak. Behind him, his followers fanned out to witness.

  ‘Your friend has summed it up for you. I have proven to his satisfaction that we never intended to hurt the Prince, only to let him see for himself that those of us you call Witted are not evil beings to be torn to pieces, but simply humans with a special gift from Eda. It was all we desired, that our prince could be shown that. We regret the depth of our misunderstanding, and that you have been injured in the process of sorting it out. But now you may take your horse and go free. The wolf also. Your friend and the Prince will come after you shortly. All of you will return to Buckkeep, where it is our earnest hope that Prince Dutiful will speak out on our behalf.’