14
Galen
GALEN, SON OF A weaver, came to Buckkeep as a boy. His father was one of Queen Desire’s personal servants who followed her from Farrow. Solicity was then the Skillmaster at Buckkeep. She had instructed King Bounty and his son Shrewd in the Skill, so by the time Shrewd’s sons were boys, she was ancient already. She petitioned King Bounty that she might take an apprentice, and he consented. Galen was greatly favored of the Queen, and at Queen-in-Waiting Desire’s energetic urging, Solicity chose the youth Galen as her apprentice. At that time, as now, the Skill was denied to bastards of the Farseer House, but when the talent bloomed, unexpected, among those not of royalty, it was cultivated and rewarded. No doubt Galen was such a one as this, a boy showing strange and unexpected talent that came abruptly to the attention of a Skillmaster.
By the time the Princes Chivalry and Verity were old enough to receive Skill instruction, Galen had advanced enough to assist in their instruction, though he was but a year or so older than they.
Once again mylife sought a balance and briefly found it. The awkwardness with Lady Patience gradually eroded into our acceptance that we would never become casual or overly familiar with one another. Neither of us felt a need to share feelings; instead we skirted one another at a formal distance, and nevertheless managed to gain a good mutual understanding. Yet in the formal dance of our relationship, there were occasional times of genuine merriment, and sometimes we even danced to the same piper.
Once she had given up the notion of teaching me everything that a Farseer prince should know, she was able to teach me a great deal. Very little of it was what she initially intended to teach me. I did gain a working knowledge of music, but this was by the loan of her instruments and many hours of private experimentation. I became more her runner than her page, and from fetching for her, I learned much of the perfumer’s art, as well as greatly increasing my knowledge of plants. Even Chade became enthused when he discovered my new talents for root-and-leaf propagation, and he followed with interest the experiments, few of them successful, that Lady Patience and I made into coaxing the buds of one tree to open to leaf when spliced into another tree. This was a magic she had heard rumored, but did not scruple to attempt. To this day, in the Women’s Garden, there is an apple tree, one branch of which bears pears. When I expressed a curiosity about the tattooer’s art, she refused to let me mark my own body, saying I was too young for such a decision. But without the least qualm, she let me observe, and finally assist with, the slow pricking of dye into her own ankle and calf that became a coiled garland of flowers.
But all of that evolved over months and years, not days. We had settled into a blunt-spoken courtesy toward one another by the end of ten days. She met Fedwren and enlisted him in her root-paper project. The pup was growing well and was a greater pleasure to me every day. Lady Patience’s errands to town gave me ample opportunities to see my town friends, especially Molly. She was an invaluable guide to the fragrant stalls where I purchased Lady Patience’s perfume supplies. Forging and Red-Ship Raiders might still threaten from the horizon, but for those few weeks they seemed a remote terror, like the remembered chill of winter on a midsummer day. For a very brief period I was happy, and, an even rarer gift, I knew I was happy.
And then my lessons with Galen began.
The night before my lessons were to begin, Burrich sent for me. I went to him wondering what chore I had done poorly and would be rebuked for. I found him waiting for me outside the stables, shifting his feet as restlessly as a confined stallion. He immediately beckoned me to follow him and took me up to his chambers.
“Tea?” he offered, and when I nodded, poured me a mug from a pot still warm on his hearth.
“What’s the matter?” I asked as I took it from him. He was strung as tight as I had ever seen him. This was so unlike Burrich that I feared some terrible news—that Sooty was ill, or dead, or that he had discovered Smithy.
“Nothing,” he lied, and did it so poorly that he himself immediately recognized it. “It’s this, boy,” he confessed suddenly. “Galen came to me today. He told me that you were to be instructed in the Skill. And he charged me that while he was teaching you, I could interfere in no way—not to counsel, or ask chores of you, or even share a meal with you. He was most . . . direct about it.” Burrich paused, and I wondered what better word he had rejected. He looked away from me. “There was a time when I’d hoped this chance would be offered you, but when it wasn’t, I thought, well, perhaps it’s for the best. Galen can be a hard teacher. A very hard teacher. I’ve heard talk of it before. He drives his pupils, but he claims he expects no more of them than he does of himself. And, boy, I’ve heard that gossiped about me, too, if you can credit it.”