Fool’s Fate. Робин Хобб
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chest beside me. ‘Eda’s tits, but it stinks down here! Think it’ll get worse when we’re underway and the bilge is sloshing around?’
‘Probably.’ I didn’t want to think of that before it happened. I’d travelled by sea before, but on those voyages, I’d slept on the deck, or at least had free access to it. Here, in the confined darkness, even the rhythmic swaying of the ship against its mooring was giving me a headache.
‘Well.’ He kicked his heels against the chest, sending the vibration up my spine into my head. ‘I never have been to sea before. Have you?’
‘Once or twice. On little boats, where I had light and air. Not like this.’
‘Oh. Ever been to the Out Islands?’
‘No.’
‘Are you all right, Tom?’
‘Not really. Too much to drink and not enough sleep last night.’
It was a lie but it worked. He grinned, gave me a friendly jostle that made me snarl and then left me alone. The bustle and noise pressed me from all sides. I was miserable and frightened and I wished I hadn’t eaten all the sweet pastries at breakfast. No one was paying attention to me. My collar was too tight, and Sada had already left the ship, so she couldn’t fix it for me.
‘Thick,’ I whispered, recognizing the source of my woe. I sat up straight, drew a deep breath of the foul air and tried not to retch. Then I reached for him. Hey, little man. Are you all right?
No.
Where are you?
In a little room. There’s a round window and the floor moves.
You’re better off than me. I’ve got no window at all.
The floor moves.
I know. But we’ll be fine. Soon all the extra people will get off the boat, and the sailors will throw the lines free and we’ll set off on our adventure. Won’t that be fun?
No. I want to go home.
Oh, it’ll be better, once we get underway. You’ll see.
No, it won’t. The floor moves. And Sada said I’d get seasick.
I wished someone had thought to tell Sada to speak positively of the journey to come.
Is Sada coming with us, then? Is she on board?
No. Only me, by myself. Because Sada gets horribly sick on ships. She felt very sorry for me, that I had to go. She said every day on a ship is like a year to her. And there’s nothing to do except be sick, and vomit and vomit and vomit.
Unfortunately, Thick was right. It was late afternoon before the well-wishers were escorted from the ship. I managed to get up on the deck, but only briefly, for the captain cursed all the guard, ordering us to get back down below, to give his crew room to work. My glimpse of the crowd on the docks did not show me the Fool. I had dreaded to meet his accusing stare, but it worried me even more not to see him there. Then I was herded below decks with the rest and the hatches were closed over us, cutting off what little light and air we’d had before. I perched on my sea chest again. The resinous smell of the ship’s tarry timbers intensified. Overhead, the captain ordered the ship’s boats to tow us away from the dock. The sounds changed as we began to move through the water. The captain shouted incomprehensible commands, and I heard the pattering of bare feet as sailors rushed to obey them.
I heard the ship’s boats called back and taken in. The vessel gave a sort of dip and then the rhythm of the motions changed again. I judged that our canvas had caught the wind. This was it. We were finally underway. Someone took pity on us down below and opened the hatch a crack, which taunted more than comforted. I stared at the skinny band of light.
‘I’m already bored,’ Riddle confided to me. He stood next to me, carving on the heavy planks of the hull.
I made a noise at him. He went on carving.
Well, Tom Badgerlock, we’re underway. How do you fare down below?
The Prince sounded cheery, but what could one expect of a fifteen-year-old, off on a sea-voyage to slay a dragon and win the hand of a Narcheska? I could sense Chade in the background, and pictured him at a table next to the Prince, Dutiful’s fingers lightly touching the back of his hand. I sighed. We still had a lot of work to do to make the Skill-coterie work.
I’m already bored. And Thick seems distressed.
Ah. I was hoping you’d appreciate a task. I’ll send a man to your captain. Thick is at the after rail, and could use some company. You’ll be joining him. That was unmistakably Chade, speaking through the Prince.
Is he sick already?
Not quite yet. But he has convinced himself that he will be.
Well, at least it would get me out into the air, I thought sourly.
A short time later, Captain Longwick called out my name. When I reported to him, he informed me that I was to tend the Prince’s man Thick, who was indisposed on the afterdeck. The men who overheard my orders chivvied me for being nursemaid to a half-wit. I grinned and replied that being above decks watching over one simpleton was far better than being trapped below decks with a troop of them. I climbed the ladder and emerged into the fresh sea air.
I found Thick on the afterdeck, holding onto the railing and staring dolorously back at Buckkeep. The black castle on top of the rocky cliffs was dwindling behind us. Civil stood near the little man, his hunting cat at his heels. Neither he nor the cat looked pleased to be there, and as Thick leaned out over the railing and made retching noises, the cat flattened his ears.
‘Here’s Tom Badgerlock, Thick. You’ll be fine now, won’t you?’ Civil gave me a brief nod, nobleman to guardsman. As always, he stared at me searchingly. He knew I was not what I seemed. I’d saved his life from the Piebalds back in Buckkeep Town. He had to wonder at how I’d suddenly appeared and come to his aid. He’d have to keep wondering, just as I had to wonder how much Laudwine had told him about Lord Golden and me. We’d never spoken of it, nor did I intend to now. I made my eyes opaque and bowed.
‘I’m here to assume my duties, sir.’ My tone was neutrally respectful.
‘I’m very glad to see you. Well, farewell, Thick. You’re in good hands, now. I’m going back into the cabin. I’m sure you’ll feel better soon.’
‘I’m going to die,’ Thick replied dismally. ‘I’m going to puke my guts out and die.’
Civil gave me a sympathetic look. I pretended not to see it as I took my place at the railing alongside Thick. He leaned far out again, forcing gagging sounds from his throat. I held onto the back of his jacket. Ah, yes. The adventure of travel by sea.
… despised beast-magic’s other uses. The ignorant believe that the Wit can only be used to give humans the power to speak to animals (words obscured by scorching) and shape-changing for evil intent. Gunrody Lian, the last man to admit openly at Buckkeep Court that he had (large fragment burned away) also for healing the mind as well. From beasts, too, he claimed they could harvest the instinctive knowledge of curative herbs, as well as a wariness against (this portion ends here. Next scorched fragment of scroll begins:) … set hands to her head and held her steady and looked in her eyes. So he stood over her while the ghastly surgery was done, and she never looked away from him, nor cried out in agony. This I myself saw but … (again, into the scorched