The Tawny Man Series Books 2 and 3: The Golden Fool, Fool’s Fate. Robin Hobb
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‘You know who. The keeper says you’ve met them here before. My daughter Svanja and that demon-eyed country whelp who has lured her away from her parents’ hearth. Your son, is what the keeper says.’ Master Hartshorn made the words an accusation.
‘He has a name. Hap. And yes, he is my son.’ I was instantly angry, but it was a cold anger, clear as ice. I shifted my weight very slightly, clearing my hip. If he came across the table at me, my knife would meet him.
‘Your son.’ He spoke the word with contempt. ‘I’d be shamed to admit it. Where are they?’
I suddenly heard the desperation as well as the fury in his voice. So. Svanja wasn’t at home, and neither she nor Hap was here. Where could they be on a snowy, dark night like this? Little question of what they were doing. My heart sank, but I spoke quietly. ‘I don’t know where they are. But I feel no shame to claim Hap as my son. Nor do I think he “lured” your daughter into anything. If anything, it is the reverse, with your Svanja teaching my son town ways.’
‘How dare you!’ he roared and drew back a meaty fist.
‘Lower your voice and your hand,’ I suggested icily. ‘The first to spare your daughter’s reputation. The second to spare your life.’
My posture drew his eyes to my ugly sword at my hip. His anger did not die, but I saw it tempered with caution. ‘Sit down,’ I invited him, but it was as much command as suggestion. ‘Take control of yourself. And let us speak of what concerns us both, as fathers.’
Slowly he drew out a chair, his eyes never leaving me. I was as slow to resume my seat. I made a gesture at the innkeeper. I did not like the eyes of the other customers fixed on us, but there was little I could do. A few moments later, a boy scuttled over to our table, clapped down a mug of beer before Master Hartshorn and then scurried away. Svanja’s father glanced at the beer contemptuously. ‘Do you really think I will sit here and drink with you? I need to find my daughter, as swiftly as possible.’
‘Then she is not at home with your wife,’ I concluded.
‘No.’ He folded his lips. The next words he spoke were barbed, with bits of his pride torn free with them. ‘Svanja said she was going up to her bed in the loft. Some time later, I noticed a task she had left undone. I called to her to come back down and finish her work. When she did not reply, I climbed the ladder. She is not there.’ The words seemed to disarm his anger, leaving only a father’s disappointment and fear. ‘I came here directly.’
‘Without even a hat or cloak. I see. Is there nowhere else she might be? A grandmother’s house, a friend’s home?’
‘We have no kin in Buckkeep Town. We only arrived here last spring. And Svanja is not the kind of girl who makes friends with other girls.’ With every word, he seemed to have less fury and more despair.
I suspected then that Hap was not the first young man to claim her fancy, nor that this was the first time her father had sought for her after dark. I kept the observation to myself. Instead, I picked up my beer and drained it off. ‘I know of only one other place to seek them. Come. We’ll go there together. It’s where my son boards while I work up at the keep.’
He left his beer untouched, but rose as I did. Eyes followed us as we left the tavern together. Outside in the darkness, snow had begun to swirl more swiftly. He hunched his shoulders and crossed his arms on his chest. I spoke through the wind, asking the question I dreaded but must. ‘You completely oppose Hap’s courtship of your daughter?’
I could not see his face in the dimness but his voice was bright with outrage. ‘Oppose? Of course I do! He has not even had the courage to come to me, to say his name to me and declare his intent! And even if he did, I would oppose it. He tells her he is an apprentice … well then, why does not he live at his master’s house, if that is true? And if it is true, what is he thinking, to court a woman before he can even make his own living? He has no right. He is completely unsuitable for Svanja.’
He did not need to mention Hap’s mismatched eyes. Nothing Hap could do would overcome Hartshorn’s dislike of him.
It was a short walk to Jinna’s door. I knocked, dreading encountering her as much as I dreaded finding that Hap and Svanja were not there. It took a moment before Jinna called through the closed door, ‘Who’s there?’
‘Tom Badgerlock,’ I replied. ‘And Svanja’s father. We’re looking for Hap and Svanja.’
Jinna opened only the top half of her door, a clear indication of how far I had fallen in her regard. She looked at Master Hartshorn more than me. ‘They’re not here,’ she said briskly. ‘Nor have I ever permitted them to spend time in each other’s company here, though there’s little I can do to stop Svanja from knocking at my door and asking for Hap.’ She swung her reproachful gaze to me. ‘I haven’t seen Hap at all this evening.’ She crossed her arms on her chest. She didn’t need to say she had warned me it would come to this. The flat accusation was there in her eyes. Suddenly I could not meet her stare. I’d avoided seeing her since the night she had glimpsed Laurel in my arms. That I had never offered her the courtesy of an explanation shamed me. It was an act both cowardly and juvenile.
‘I’d best go look for him, then,’ I muttered. I’d hurt Jinna and tonight I had to face that. The truth speared me. It hadn’t been for any lofty moral reasons, but because I was afraid, because I had known she would become a facet of my life that I could not control. Just as Hap was now.
‘Damn him! Damn him for ruining my girl!’ Hartshorn suddenly raged. He turned and stumbled away into the swirling snowfall. At the edge of the light from Jinna’s door, he looked back to shake a fist at me. ‘You keep him away from her! Keep your demon-blasted son away from my Svanja!’ Then he turned. In a few steps, he was beyond the range of the light from Jinna’s door, vanished into blackness and despair. I longed to follow him, but I felt caught in the light.
I took a deep breath. ‘Jinna, I need to find Hap tonight. But I think –’
‘Well. We both know you won’t find him. Or Svanja. I doubt they want to be found this night.’ She paused, but before I could even draw breath, she said evenly, ‘And I think Rory Hartshorn is right. You should keep Hap away from Svanja. For all our sakes. But how you’re going to do it, I don’t know. Better you had never let your son run wild like this, Tom Badgerlock. I hope it isn’t too late for him.’
‘He’s a good boy,’ I heard myself say. It sounded feeble, the excuse of a man who has neglected his son.
‘He is. That is why he deserves better from you. Good night, Tom Badgerlock.’
She shut the door, shutting away her light and warmth. I stood in the dark, with the cold sweeping past me. Snowflakes were finding their way down my collar.
Something warm bumped my ankles. Open the door. The cat wants to go in.
I stooped to stroke him. Cold snow spangled his coat but the warmth of his body leaked through it. You’ll have to find your own way in, Fennel. That door doesn’t open for me any more. Farewell.
Stupid. You just have to ask. Like this. He stood up on his hind legs and clawed diligently at the wood as he yowled.
The sound of his demands followed me as I strode off into the darkness and cold. Behind me, I heard the door open for an instant and knew he had been admitted. I walked back up to Buckkeep Castle, envying a cat.
‘Past Chalced, keep your sails spread.’ This old saying is based on sound observations. Once your ship is past the Chalcedean ports and their cities, old as evil itself, spread sail and move swiftly. Aptly named are the Cursed Shores to the south of Chalced. Water from the Rain River will rot your casks and burn your crew’s throats. Fruit from those lands scalds the mouth and breaks sores