“No,” I gasped. And then, “I talk first.”
“Sit down,” he growled at me. “Breathe. I’ll get you some water.”
I made it to the chair by the fire before I collapsed. I’d tried to force my body too much today. The ride and the practice bout by itself were enough to exhaust me. Now I was shaking as badly as the Fool had been.
I drank the water Chade brought me. Before he could begin to speak, I told him everything that the Fool had told me. When I had finished, I was still panting. He sat thinking while my breathing gradually slowed.
“Tattoos,” he muttered in disgust. “The Pale Woman.” He sighed. “I don’t believe him. And I don’t dare disbelieve him.” He scowled as he pondered my tale. Then, “You saw my spy’s report? He found no trace of a dragon on Aslevjal.”
“I don’t think he made a very thorough search.”
“Perhaps not. That is the trouble with hired men. When the money trickles away, their loyalty goes with it.”
“Chade. What are we going to do?”
He gave me an odd look. “The obvious. Really, Fitz, you do need to recover your health. You are so easily rattled these days. Though I confess that the Fool’s tattoos are as great a surprise to me as to you. As is the connection he makes of them. When I spoke to him earlier today, to ask if he knew anything of such tattoos as an Out Island custom, he said he did not and calmly changed the subject. I can scarcely believe he would so dissemble to me, but . . .” I watched Chade reorder to himself all that he knew of both the Fool and Lord Golden. Then he sighed heavily and admitted, “We do know there was a Pale Woman advising Kebal Rawbread for much of the Red Ship War. But we assumed that she perished alongside him. What could she have to do with Elliania? And even if she had lived, why should she attempt to be a part of our matchmaking, let alone have an interest in you or Lord Golden? It is all too far-fetched.”
I swallowed. “The maid, Henja. Elliania’s servant. She spoke of a ‘she,’ as did Elliania and Blackwater. Those two spoke of her with dread. Perhaps this ‘she’ is the Pale Woman, and perhaps she is the Fool’s ‘other White Prophet.’ Then she could have plans of her own, plans that cross our own in ways we cannot foresee.”
I watched the old assassin mentally work through all the permutations of such a situation. Then he shrugged. “Regardless,” Chade replied ruthlessly. “Our solution remains the same.” He held up two fingers. “One. The Fool promised you that it would be your decision, to keep your oath to the Farseers or try to save this frozen dragon for him. So. You’ll keep your oath. I don’t doubt your loyalty.”
It did not seem that simple to me at all. I kept silent.
He touched his second finger. “Two. Lord Golden does not go to Aslevjal with us. Therefore, if we discover a dragon in the ice, which I very much doubt, he doesn’t try to interfere with Dutiful killing the dragon. Or at least chopping the frozen head off some ancient carcass, which I consider far more likely. Then, even if this ‘Pale Woman’ does still exist and is some sort of threat to him, he never comes near her. Hence, Lord Golden doesn’t die.”
“What if he comes to Aslevjal anyway, with or without us?”
Chade gave me a look. “Fitz. Think, lad. Aslevjal is not an easy island to visit, even from the other Out Islands. Not that he’ll get that far. Don’t you think I can issue an order that forbids Lord Golden to take passage on any ship outbound from Buckkeep Town? I’ll do it subtly, of course. But it will be done.”
“What if he changes his appearance?”
He raised a white eyebrow at me. “Do you wish me to have him locked in a dungeon while we are gone? I suppose I could arrange that, if it would put your mind at rest. A comfortable dungeon, of course. All the amenities.” His tone plainly said that he thought I was worrying unnecessarily. Confronted with his calm skepticism, I found it difficult to support the frantic fear the Fool had raised in me.
“No. Of course I don’t want that,” I muttered.
“Then trust me. Trust me as you used to. Have a little confidence in your old mentor. If I don’t want Lord Golden to take ship from Buckkeep, then he won’t.”
I CAN’T FIND HIM. WHAT SHOULD I DO? Dutiful sounded panicked.
Chade cocked his head. “Did you hear something?”
“A moment.” I held up a finger to Chade. Never mind, Dutiful. He’s with me; it will be all right now.
What’s it all about?
Never mind, I tell you. Never mind. I shifted my attention from Dutiful to Chade. “That which you ‘heard’ was Dutiful shouting at me that he couldn’t find you. A widespread Skilling, such as he still does when he’s anxious.”