“On the surface, neither do I. But the man who carried the message to Shrewd was still shaking, despite his long ride. He couldn’t explain it, not even say if he thought the gold should be paid or not. All he could do was repeat, over and over, how the ship’s captain had smiled as he delivered the ultimatum, and how the other raiders had laughed and laughed at his words.
“So, we go to see, you and I. Now. Before the King makes any official response, before Verity even knows. Now attend. This is the road we came by. See how it follows the curve of the coast? And this is the trail we go by. Straighter, but much steeper and boggy in places, so that it has never been used by wagons. But faster for men on horseback. Here, a small boat awaits us; crossing the bay will cut a lot of miles and time from our journey. We’ll beach here, and then on up to Forge.”
I studied the map. Forge was north of Buckkeep; I wondered how long our messenger had taken to reach us, and if by the time we got there the Red-Ship Raiders’ threat would have already been carried out. But it was no use wasting time on wondering.
“What about a horse for you?”
“That’s been arranged. By the one who brought this message. There’s a bay outside with three white feet. He’s for me. The messenger will also provide a great-granddaughter for Lady Thyme, and the boat is waiting. Let’s go.”
“One thing,” I said, and ignored his scowl at the delay. “I have to ask this, Chade. Were you here because you didn’t trust me?”
“A fair question, I suppose. No. I was here to listen in the town, to women’s talk, as you were to listen in the keep. Bonnet makers and button sellers may know more than a high king’s adviser, without even knowing they know it. Now. Do we ride?”
We did. We left by the side entrance, and the bay was tethered right outside. Sooty didn’t much care for him, but she minded her manners. I sensed Chade’s impatience, but he kept the horses to an easy pace until we had left the cobbled streets of Neatbay behind us. Once the lights of the houses were behind us, we put our horses to an easy canter. Chade led, and I wondered at how well he rode, and how effortlessly he selected paths in the dark. Sooty did not like this swift traveling by night. If it had not been for a moon nearly at the full, I don’t think I could have persuaded her to keep up with the bay.
I will never forget that night ride. Not because it was a wild gallop to the rescue, but because it was not. Chade guided us and used the horses as if they were game pieces on a board. He did not play swiftly, but to win. And so there were times when we walked the horses to breathe them, and places on the trail where we dismounted and led them to get them safely past treacherous places.
As morning grayed the sky we stopped to eat provisions from Chade’s saddlebags. We were on a hilltop so thickly treed that the sky was barely glimpsed overhead. I could hear the ocean, and smell it, but could catch no sight of it. Our trail had become a sinuous path, little more than a deer run, through these woods. Now that we were still, I could hear and smell the life all around us. Birds called, and I heard the movement of small animals in the underbrush and in the branches overhead. Chade had stretched, then sank down to sit on deep moss with his back against a tree. He drank deeply from a water skin and then more briefly from a brandy flask. He looked tired, and the daylight exposed his age more cruelly than lamplight ever had. I wondered if he would last through the ride or collapse.
“I’ll be fine,” he said when he caught me watching him. “I’ve had to do more arduous duty than this, and on less sleep. Besides, we’ll have a good five or six hours of rest on the boat, if the crossing is smooth. So there’s no need to be longing after sleep. Let’s go, boy.”
About two hours later our path diverged, and again we took the more obscure branching. Before long I was all but lying on Sooty’s neck to escape the low sweeps of the branches. It was muggy under the trees and we were blessed with multitudes of tiny stinging flies that tortured the horses and crept into my clothes to find flesh to feast on. So thick were they that when I finally mustered the courage to ask Chade if we had gone astray, I near choked on the ones that rushed into my mouth.
By midday we emerged onto a windswept hillside that was more open. Once more I saw the ocean. The wind cooled the sweating horses and swept the insects away. It was a great pleasure simply to sit upright in the saddle again. The trail was wide enough that I could ride abreast of Chade. The livid spots stood out starkly against his pale skin; he looked more bloodless than the Fool. Dark circles underscored his eyes. He caught me watching him and frowned.