Fool's Quest (The Fitz and The Fool Trilogy #2)

Fool's Quest (The Fitz and The Fool Trilogy #2) Page 90

“Yes, sir. So Lady Nettle will stay behind. Lord Chade and Thick will come here to experience this fog I’ve described. And perhaps to see if Thick can prevail against it.”

I tried not to feel hope. I dreaded seeing Chade and telling him that I had no idea what had become of Shun. Time to dig a bit more. I rang for a servant and waited. When some small time had passed, I stepped out into the hall and shouted for Bulen. As I reentered the room, FitzVigilant asked, “Are you finished with me? Can I go back to my bed now? I am not well, as you can see.”

I tried to speak kindly. “I can see that, Lant. And I see something that you cannot. Your mind has been hazed. Things have happened here in the last few days that you can no longer recall. You know what the Skill-magic is; you’ve heard of it. Someone has used the Skill or something very like it to confuse you. You walk past carpet stained with blood and doors that have been battered open, and you see nothing odd. Servants have been slaughtered and you do not miss them. Two of our household are missing. Lady Bee, my young daughter, has been taken, and Lady Shun has vanished. I don’t know if she was killed and her body burned in the stable fire, or if she is also kidnapped.” My voice had begun to shake. I paused and took several long breaths. “Tonight I will try to find out if anyone in our household recalls any detail of that night. For that sleeping lad is truly a stable boy born and bred here, the third generation of his family to serve mine. And he spoke the truth, a truth you cannot remember.”

FitzVigilant’s face had grown more and more still as I spoke. Halfway through my speech, he had begun to shake his head. When I had finished, he sat back in his chair and folded his arms on his chest. “Holder Badgerlock, you sound as mad as he does.”

“I’m sure I do. But I assure you, I am not. Where is Bulen?”

“Gone back to bed, I imagine. As I wish I could.”

I wanted to strike him. Then, as swiftly as the hot anger had come, it drained out of me. He could not help how clouded his mind was. I looked at Sildwell. “It’s hopeless,” he said. “Perhaps Lord Chade and Thick will be able to get through to him. But I have never felt anything like this myself. As if I think and move through a thick soup of weariness and discouragement.”

I was silent for a moment. “I thought it was only me,” I said.

He shook his head. “No. The farther I got from this place, the more my spirits lifted and my mind cleared. Making myself come back was difficult. I simply did not want to travel up the road. It’s like someone placed a magical spell over all of Withywoods to discourage visitors.”

“Maybe they did,” I wondered grudgingly. I looked at FitzVigilant and tried to make my voice kind. “Go to bed, Lant. I’m sorry for all that has befallen you, for what you know and what you don’t know. Go to bed and sleep while you can. Tomorrow will be a long and weary day for all of us.”

Lant needed no more urging. He rose and glared at me with narrowed eyes. “Woken in the middle of the night to be insulted and ordered about. This is not why I came here.”

He was angry. As I would have been angry, I imagine. I tried to keep my voice level. “If you could remember that Nettle and Chade actually sent you here as a tutor for young Lady Bee …” Then I gave it up as hopeless.

He turned from me and went out the door without a word. I turned to Sildwell. “Did they give you a chamber?”

“They did.”

“Then I suggest you get what rest you can as well.”

“Thank you, sir.” He tipped his head toward the brandy. “Would you mind if I took that with me for company?”

He was certainly not a shy fellow. Appalling manners indeed. I liked him. “Go ahead. And thank you for all you have done today.”

“You’re welcome, sir. But I shall be very happy to leave your home as soon as I possibly can.” He sketched me a bow and hooked the bottle of brandy on his way to the door.

I sat down in the chair that Lant had vacated and stared at the fire. I could not feel anything. I tried to find my heartache over Bee, my anger at what had happened, but not even my guilt came to torment me. Discouragement as thick as soup. I felt useless, helpless, and weary. Sildwell was right. A cloud of dullness and discouragement hung over Withywoods. Sadness was all I could provoke in myself. I should be furious. I should thirst for vengeance. Instead I thought of killing myself. No. Not yet. I rose and covered the stable boy more warmly. My vassal.

I took a candle and wandered the halls. I went first to my own room, but could not settle there. I went again to Lady Shun’s room, but if there were clues in that disorder, they escaped me. I did not like the woman, but I had no desire to see her kidnapped or dead and burned. I went to Bee’s room. Among the scattered possessions, I glimpsed the seashells we had bought for her strewn across the floor. And the warm red shawl sprawled across a chair. The kerchiefs she had intended for Revel rested undisturbed on a table by her bed. She’d never had the pleasure of gifting them to him.