“But the Pale Woman also did things to try to make changes.”
He smiled, grimly satisfied. “She tried. She failed. We prevailed. We changed.” Then he tilted his head to one side. “Perhaps. So this old man thinks.” Prilkop glanced over at the sleeping Fool and nodded to himself. “Rest is what he needs. Sleep, and good food. And quiet. You and Thick, go fishing. Fresh fish would be good for him.”
I shook my head. “I don't want to leave him when he's like this.”
Prilkop put a gentle hand on my shoulder. “You make him restless. He feels your worry. To let him rest, you away go.”
Thick spoke up from his corner by the hearth. “We should go home. I want to go home.”
The Fool startled me when he croaked my name. “Fitz.”
I was instantly at his side with water. He did not want to drink it, but I was insistent. When he turned his face from the cup, I took it away. “Was there something else you wanted?”
His eyes were unnaturally bright with fever. “Yes. I want you to go home.”
“He doesn't know what he's saying,” I told Prilkop. “I couldn't take him like this.”
The Fool drew a deep breath. He spoke with an effort. “Yes. I do. Know what I'm saying. Take Thick. Go home. Leave me here.” He coughed and then motioned for more water. He drank it in sips, and then pulled in another deep breath. I let him lie back in his blankets.
“I won't leave you like this,” I promised him. “I'll take as much time as we need here. Don't worry about anything. I'll be right here.”
“No.” He seemed irritable, in that weary way the sick do. “Listen to me. I need to stay. Here. For a time. With Prilkop. I need to understand . . . when I am, where I am . . . I need to . . . Fitz, he can help me. You know I will not die of this. It is only my changing time. But what I need to learn, I must learn alone. Be alone, for a time. I need to think, alone. You understand. I know you do. I was you.” He lifted thinning fingers to rub at his face and cheeks. The dry skin rippled and rolled under his fingers, flaking away from newer, darker skin beneath. He rolled his eyes to Prilkop. “He should go,” he said, as if Prilkop could force me. “He is needed at home. And he needs to be home.”
I sat down on the floor by the bed. I did understand. I remembered the long days of my recovery, after my time in Regal's dungeon. I recalled the uncertainty I had felt. Torture shames a man. To break and scream, to beg, to make promises . . . unless a man has endured that, perhaps he cannot forgive it in another. The Fool needed time alone, to reassess how he saw himself. I had not wanted Burrich to ask a thousand questions of me; I had not even wanted him to be solicitous and kind. On some instinctive level, he had known that, and had allowed me my days of sitting and staring, unspeaking, over the meadows and hills. It had been difficult to admit I was a human and not a wolf: it had been harder to admit I was still myself.
The Fool extended a thin hand from under his blankets. He patted my shoulder awkwardly, and then ran his fingers down my bearded cheek. “Go home. And shave while you're there.” He managed a faint smile. Then, “Let me rest, Fitz. Just let me rest.”
“Very well.” I tried not to feel that he dismissed me. I turned to Thick. “I'll take you home, then. Dress warmly, but you needn't pack anything. Before the night is over, we'll be in Buckkeep.”
“And warm again?” Thick pressed me. “And with good things to eat? Fresh bread and butter, milk and apples, sweet cakes and raisins? Cheese and bacon? Tonight?”
“I'll do my best. You get ready. And tell Chade for me that we're going home tonight. I'll tell the guard at the gate that we came home early, on the first boat. Because you were cold.”
“I am cold,” he agreed heartily. “But no boats. You promised.”
I hadn't but I nodded anyway. “No boats. Get ready, Thick.” I turned back to the Fool. He had closed his eyes again. I spoke softly. “So. You get your way. As you always seem to. I'll take Thick home. I will be gone for a day. At most, two days. But then I'll come back, and I'll bring back food and wine with me. What would you like? What could you eat?”
“Have you any apricots?” the Fool asked me in a wavering voice. Plainly he had not grasped the whole of what I had told him.
“I'll try to bring you some,” I said, doubting I could but loath to tell him so. I smoothed his hair back from his warm face. His hair felt stiff and dry. I looked at Prilkop. He nodded slowly to my silent plea. Before I left, I tucked the blankets up over his shoulders. Then I stooped, and despite his closed eyes, I pressed my brow to his. “I'm coming back soon,” I vowed. He made no response and perhaps he already slept. I left him there.
