Fool's Quest - Page 297/313

There was something of Chade in Lant after all. He had maintained his aplomb and did not gape. Perseverance struggled, coughing heavily and using it as an excuse to bow his head. I desperately longed to know what tale the Fool had already told Malta. I had said we were emissaries from the Six Duchies and had come down from the Mountains. Had we contradicted each other, and if so, could we find a way to mend it convincingly?

King Reyn looked puzzled and was not trying to cover his confusion. Malta gave him a significant look and I knew that she would be the one to handle us. “Please, come to the table. Let us eat and drink together, and we will see what we can do to help you on your way.”

Reyn seated his queen and took his chair at the head of the table. We were ranged down one side of the table. A servant, very human in appearance, arrived to escort Spark and Perseverance away to refreshments of their own. Spark went as if fully comfortable with this while Per gave me several backward glances even as I nodded to him to go. King Reyn smiled round at us as the door closed behind them and exclaimed, “I am ravenous! I hope you will not find it strange if we stand on little ceremony here.” He looked at Amber and smiled as he said, “Even after years of it, king and queen sit a bit oddly with us.” With a glance at Lant and me, he added, “After years of the Satrapy extorting money from the Bingtown Traders, we who were raised as Traders still wonder why anyone would think we preferred a monarchy. But it’s a convenient way for the outside world to see us, as I’m sure you both understand.”

My thoughts scrabbled. Kettricken had said something of it to me once. Just as she had been trained to see herself as Sacrifice for her people, but outsiders had seen her as a Mountain princess, so Malta and Reyn, while known as the King and Queen of the Rain Wilds, were actually more the chief negotiators for a consortium of merchant traders. I nodded politely and Lant smiled. The “king” was serving himself from a dish of food, which he then passed on to his “queen.” As the dish moved down the table, we each took a portion and passed it on. Dish followed dish, and while it was of a better quality than what we had been offered earlier, it still did not surpass what I’d expect on the Buckkeep table. Lant rose in my estimation as I saw him lean toward Amber, identify the dish for her, and then allot her a serving if she desired it.

Reyn smiled round at all of us. “Let us simply eat before we talk, shall we?”

“Of course!” Amber accepted for all of us. “Bargaining and digestion are not the best companions, as well we must know.”

“Then you come to bargain?” Reyn smiled at her. “And I thought Prince FitzChivalry and his party were emissaries from the Six Duchies.”

“Emissaries in search of a particular bargain. But let us say no more of that now, but only eat and drink together, as old friends and new.” Amber walked her fingertips on the table, found and lifted a glass filled with a golden wine. “To friends well met!” she offered, and all drank to her toast. When she set down her glass, she added, “I had so hoped to see Phron while I was here. He is well, I trust?”

Malta stopped chewing the bit of meat she had taken. Amber smiled innocently but I saw his dart had struck true and wondered why he had launched it. After a moment, Rey said quietly, “Phron’s health remains delicate. Perhaps he will join us briefly after the meal, if he feels up to meeting guests.”

“I am grieved to hear that,” Amber replied softly. “The last word I had of him was years ago. At that time, I believe he had begun to thrive.”

“Years ago,” Malta said softly. Sometimes, when a bell is struck, another vibrates in sympathy. The parent in me echoed the concealed pain in her voice, and I wanted Amber to stop pressing her. Something was seriously wrong with her child. I would never make it a bargaining point and I was not sure what Amber was leading up to.

Reyn spoke, his tone a bit acerbic. “I’m surprised you had any tidings of Phron.”

Amber shrugged lightly. Her fingers danced delicately over her food, and then, almost as if she were sighted, she cut a bite from a slice of preserved fruit on her plate. I did not recognize the fruit and took a cautious bite of mine as she spoke. “It was years ago. You know how such gossip travels, from friend to friend. You recall Jek, my shipmate on the Paragon?”

Oh, neatly done. I now guessed the true source of her news. Jek was one of the few names I knew from Chade’s network of spies and information gatherers. I suspected that while news of this Phron was years old, the Fool had rummaged it out from Chade’s scrolls. No: He was blind. It would have had to come from Spark. Or Ash. So the youngster was deeply, deeply the Fool’s now, enough to purloin not only dragon blood but also precious information for him. I was not sure if I was glad that he had such a loyal person at his command or resentful that such a useful resource had been lured away from Chade.