I had not expected much of a horse. Almost, I had feared that the Fool's sense of humor would express itself through Lord Golden's selection of horseflesh. I found the smith's girl cooling herself with water from the rain barrel and told her I had come to fetch the horse Lord Golden had left for shoeing. She bobbed her head in understanding, and I waited where she left me standing. The day was warm enough. I had no desire to enter the inferno of noise and heat that was the blacksmith's shop.

The girl was back soon enough, leading a rangy black mare. I walked around her once and looked up to find she was regarding me with the same wary gaze I was giving her. She appeared sound and unscarred by misuse". I quested lightly toward her. She snorted and would not look at me, refusing the contact. She had no interest in being friends with a human.

"She was a nasty bit to shoe," the smith informed me loudly as he came sweating from his shop. "No manners about lifting her feet for a man to handle. And she'll kick if she gets the chance, so mind that. Tried to take a nip out of my girl, too. But it was only while we were shoeing her. The rest of the time, she minded her manners well enough."

I thanked him for his warnings and gave him the promised purse from Lord Golden. "Has she a name that you know?" I asked him.

The smith pursed his lips and shook his head. "Never saw her afore this morning. If she had a name, she likely lost it in the horse-trade. Call her what you will; likely she'll ignore it." I set the issue of her name aside. Her worn halter went with her, and by that I led her down to a saddler. I purchased plain, serviceable tack, and despite my best bargaining efforts, I was still outraged at what they charged for it. The man's expression plainly said he thought me unreasonable. As I went outside with the tack I had selected, I wondered if I truly were. I had never had to purchase tack before; perhaps Burrich's obsession with repairing tack had been founded on how much the stuff cost.

The mare had been restive as I had tried several saddles on her, and when I tried to mount her, danced sideways. Once I was up, she answered the reins and my knees, but sloppily. I scowled at that but schooled myself to patience with her. Perhaps after we had taken one another's measure she would serve me better. And if she did not, well, patience was required to unteach any horse's bad habits. I had best accustom myself to that now. As I rode her carefully up the steep streets of Buckkeep Town, I reflected that perhaps I had been far more spoiled in my youth than I had ever known. Excellent horses, good tack, fine weapons, decent clothing, plentiful food: I had taken so much for granted.

A horse? could teach a horse whatever it needs learning. Why do you need a horse?

Nighteyes had slipped into my mind so easily I'd scarce been aware of him sharing my thoughts. I have to go somewhere. With the scentless one.

Must it be on horseback? He didn't allow me time to reply. I sensed his annoyance. Wait for me. I'm nearly there.

Nighteyes, no, don't come to me. Stay with the boy. I'll be back soon enough.

But he was gone, and my own thought was left hanging unanswered. I quested toward him but found only fog. He wouldn't argue with me. He simply wouldn't hear me telling him to stay with Hap.

The guards at the gate scarcely gave me a glance. Ifrowned and resolved to speak about that to Chade. Just because I was wearing blue clothing did not mean I had legitimate business in the castle. I rode up to the stable doors, dismounted, and then halted, heart hammering. From inside the stable came the voice of a man genially instructingsomeone in how to correctly clean a horse's hooves. Yearshad deepened the voice, but I still recognized it. Hands, myboyhood friend and now the Stablemaster at Buckkeep, wasjust inside the open doors. My mouth went dry. The lasttime he had seen me, he had regarded me as either a ghostor a demon, and run shouting for the guards. That had beenyears ago. I was much changed, I told myself, but could putno faith in the years as my sole disguise. I took refuge in becoming Tom Badgerlock.

"Here, boy," I summoned a lad loitering outside the stable. "Put this horse up for me. She belongs to Lord Golden, so see she is well treated."

"Yes, sir," he replied. "He sent us word to watch for Tom Badgerlock and a black mare, and to saddle up his own horse as soon as you returned. He said to tell you that you're wanted up in his rooms as soon as you show." With that, he took my mare away without another word. I breathed out, relieved at how easily I had passed that hurdle, and turned away from the stable. Before I had gone a dozen steps, a man hurried past me, evidently on an errand of his own. As he passed me he gave me not a glance. I stared after Hands. He had put on girth with the years, but then, so had I. His dark hair was thinning on his head, but bristled thicker than ever on his brawny arms. In a moment he turned a corner and was out of sight. I stood gaping after him, feeling as if I truly were a ghost, invisible in his world. Then I took a breath and hurried on my own way. In time, I reflected, he would catch a glimpse of Tom Badgerlock here and there about the keep, and by the time we stood face-to-face, I would have assumed that name and identity so completely that he would not question it.

I felt my life as Fitz was like footprints on a dusty floor, already being swept aside and overtrodden by others. It did not help that as I passed the Great Hall, I heard Lord Golden 's voice lifted in sudden summons. "Ah, there you are, Tom Badgerlock! Excuse me, ladies, here is my good man now. Farewell, fare well all in my absence!"

I watched him detach himself from a gaggle of noble ladies. They let him go reluctantly, fluttering fans and eyelashes after him, one making a pretty mouth of disappointment. Lord Golden smiled fondly on them all, waving a languid valediction with a graceful hand as he strode up to me. "Errands done? Excellent. Then we shall complete our preparations and be on our way while the sun is still high."

He swept past me and I followed behind at a discreet distance, nodding to his words as he instructed me in how he wished his things packed. Yet when we reached his rooms and I closed the door behind us, I saw his well-stuffed traveling bags already waiting on the chair. I turned to the sound of him latching the door behind us. He gestured at my room just as the door of it opened and Chade emerged into our midst.

"There you are and not a moment too soon. The Queen has received your tidings, and commands that you depart immediately. I do not think she will be completely at ease until the boy is under this roof again. Well, and neither will I." He bit his lower lip briefly and then announced, more to Lord Golden than to me, "The Queen has decided that Huntswoman Laurel will go with you. She readies herself now."

"We don't need her," Lord Golden exclaimed in annoyance. "The fewer who know of this business, the better."

"She is the Queen's own Huntswoman, and in her confidence in many things. Her mother's family lives less than a day's ride from Galeton. She claims to know the area well from childhood times spent there, so that may be a help to you. Besides, Kettricken is determined you will take her. Well do I know the futility of arguing with the Queen when she has made up her mind to something."

"I recall something of that myself," Lord Golden replied, but there was much of the Fool in that rueful voice. I felt a smile crook the corner of my own mouth. I too knew what it was to quail before the blue determination of my Queen's gaze. I wondered who this Laurel was, and what she had done to win the Queen's confidence. Did I feel a prick of envy that someone had replaced me as Kettricken's confidante at Court? Well, it had been fifteen years since I had filled that role. Had I expected her to take no one in my place?