I shrugged. “I have no way of knowing. The city I visited was not buried. Some great cataclysm had riven it, true. It was like a cake chopped with an axe. And the water of the river had flowed in, to fill the chasm.”
“What cracks the earth in one city could have precipitated a sinking of the ground in another,” Chade speculated aloud.
“Or wakened a mountain to wrath,” Kettricken put in. “We have many such tales in the Mountain Kingdom. The earth quakes, and one of the fire mountains awakes, to pour forth lava and ash, sometimes darkening the sky and filling the air with choking smoke. Sometimes it is but a slurry of water and muck and stones that cascades down, filling valleys to the brim and spreading out across plains. There are also tales, not that old, of a town in a valley near a deep lake. The day before the earthquake, all was well there. It bustled with life. Travelers arriving there two days after the quake found folk dead in the street, yes, and their beasts beside them. None of the bodies bore any marks. It was as if they had simply dropped where they stood.”
A silence had followed her words. Then Chade had made me recite yet again all the Fool had told me of the Bingtown dragons. He had asked me a number of questions about the Six Duchies dragons, most of which I did not know the answers to. Could there be serpent-born dragons among the dragons I woke? If Bingtown’s serpent-born dragons rose against the Six Duchies, did I think our own dragons could be persuaded to rise and protect us again? Or would they side with their scaly kin? And speaking of scales, what of the lizardish boy? Did the Fool know aught of people of that kind?
When finally they dismissed me so that they might deliberate together, I felt sure that several meals must have passed me by. I left Kettricken’s private chambers by secret ways, emerged from my own room to find Lord Golden absent from his chambers, and went down to scavenge the kitchens for whatever I could find. The bustle and clatter was intense, and I found myself firmly refused entrance. I retreated, and then made a foray into the guardsmen’s hall, where I secured bread, meat, cheese, and ale, which were all I really needed to content my soul anyway.
As I climbed the stairs, I was wondering if I could steal a moment or two of sleep while Lord Golden and the rest of the Buckkeep nobility were at dinner with the Bingtown contingent. I knew I should dress and descend, to stand at his shoulder and watch how the evening proceeded, but I felt I had already taken in as much information as my mind could hold. I had passed on the information to Kettricken and Chade; let them deal with it. My dilemma with Hap still impaled my heart. I could think of no course of action that would better it.
Sleep, I firmly told myself. Sleep would shield me for a time from all of it, and upon waking perhaps some aspect of it would have come clear.
I tapped at Lord Golden’s chamber door and entered. As I did so, a young woman stood up from one of the hearthside chairs. I glanced about the room, assuming that Lord Golden must have admitted her, but saw no sign of him. Perhaps he was in one of his other chambers, though it seemed unlike him to leave a guest unattended. Nor did I see food or wine set out, as he certainly would have done.
She was a striking woman. It was not just her extravagant garb; it was the sheer scale of her. She was at least my height, with long blond hair and light brown eyes, and a warrior’s muscling in her arms and shoulders. Her clothing was chosen to emphasize that last feature. Her black boots came to her knees, and she wore leggings rather than skirts. Her shirt was of ivory linen, and her fancifully decorated vest of soft doeskin. The sleeves of the shirt were pleated, and there was lace at the cuff, but not enough to get in her way. The cut of the garments was simple, but the extravagance of the fabrics was only exceeded by the embroidery that graced them. She wore several earrings in each ear, some of wood and some of gold. In the spiraling wooden ones, I recognized the Fool’s handiwork. There was gold at her throat and on her wrists as well, but it was simple gold, and I would wager she wore it more for her own pleasure than for show. She bore a plain sword on one hip, and a practical knife on the other.
In the first moment of mutual surprise, her gaze met mine. Then her stare wandered over me in a way that was overly familiar. When her eyes came back to mine, she grinned disarmingly. Her teeth were very white.
“You must be Lord Golden.” She extended a hand to me as she strode toward me. Despite her foreign dress, her accent was Shoaks Duchy. “I’m Jek. Perhaps Amber has spoken of me.”
I took her hand by reflex. “I’m sorry, my lady, but you are mistaken. I am Lord Golden’s serving man, Tom Badgerlock.” Her grip was firm, her hand callused and strong. “I am sorry I was not here to admit you when you first arrived. I had not realized Lord Golden was expecting a visitor. May I bring you anything?”
