Thick set the pie down with a clack on the worktable, officiously pushing my dishes to one side to give himself room to work. He hummed as he set to work, and I recognized the refrain of his Skill-song. His surliness seemed to have vanished. I noticed that the knife he used to cut the staggeringly large portions of pie was the one I had bought for him in town on that horrid day. So somehow my purchases had made it up to Buckkeep and to him. The Prince found plates and Thick plopped the servings onto them. He took great care not to soil his new clothes while he did so, and later ate with a caution worthy of a great lady in a new gown. We divided that monstrous pie and left nothing in the pan, and for the first time since I had been injured food tasted good to me.
TWENTY-THREE
Revelations
The un-Witted often tell fearsome tales of Witted ones who take on the forms of animals for nefarious reasons. Those of Old Blood will flatly state that no human, no matter how tightly bonded to his animal partner, can take on the shape of that animal. What Old Bloods speak about only reluctantly is that a human can inhabit the body of his beast partner. Usually this happens temporarily and only in extreme circumstances. The body of the human does not vanish; indeed, it remains very vulnerable at such times and may even appear dead. Extreme physical damage to a human’s body or imminent death may make a human consciousness take refuge in his Wit-beast’s body. Old Blood folk disparage this practice and strongly urge against it.
Among Old Blood, it is strictly forbidden that such an arrangement become permanent. An Old Blood human who flees his dying body and takes refuge in that of his Wit-partner becomes an outcast from the Old Blood community. The same is true for a human who takes in the fleeing soul of his animal partner. Such an act is regarded as extreme selfishness as well as being both immoral and unwise. All who grow up in the Old Blood communities are warned that no matter how tempting the circumstance, no happiness will result for either partner. Death is better.
In this significant way, Old Blood practitioners of the magic differ from the so-called Piebalds. Piebalds relegate their Wit-beasts to a lesser status than their human partners, and see nothing wrong with a human choosing to extend his life by sharing the body of his Wit-partner after his own human body has perished. In some cases, the human becomes the dominant spirit in the animal’s body, all but driving it out of its own flesh. Given the long life span of some creatures such as tortoises, geese and certain tropical birds, an unscrupulous human could take such a partner late in life with the deliberate intention of providing himself with a body after his own death. In such a way, a human could extend his life for a century or more.
— Badgerlock’s Old Blood Tales
I emerged from my convalescence like a new-hatched thing crawling out into the sunlight for the first time. The world dazzled and overwhelmed me, and I felt amazement at my life. More, Dutiful’s new regard for me was something that I wore like a warm coat. I felt that affirmation the next morning as I stood in the courtyard of Buckkeep Castle and watched the folk of the keep come and go around me at their daily tasks. The day seemed very bright, and to my surprise, I could smell the end of winter in the air. The trodden snow underfoot seemed heavier and denser and the blue of the sky overhead deeper. I drew in a deep breath and then stretched and heard my joints crackle from disuse. Today I’d cure that.
I still didn’t trust my legs to carry me down to Buckkeep Town, so I went to the stables. The stable-boy who regularly cared for Myblack took one look at me and told me he’d ready my mare for me. I leaned gratefully on her manger and watched him. He treated her well and she was docile under his touch. When I took the reins from him, I thanked him for caring for the horse I had neglected. He gave me a puzzled look and confided, ‘Well, I can’t say that she’s seemed to miss you. Content with her own company, that’s this one.’
Halfway down the steep hill-path to town, I began regretting my decision to ride. Myblack seemed bent on arguing with the reins and showed me just how little strength had come back to my hands and arms. Despite our little battle of wills, she did carry me to Gindast’s shop. There I was both disappointed and elated to find that Hap had little time to visit. Although he came swiftly to me when he saw me at the door, he explained apologetically that one of the journeymen was allowing him to help with the roughing-in of a carving on a headboard. If he went with me, the man would likely choose one of the other apprentices for the task. I assured him that another day would be soon enough and that I had no news for him other than that I was feeling better. I watched him hurry off, chisel and scribe in hand, and felt only pride in my boy.
As I remounted Myblack, I glimpsed three of the younger apprentices. They were peering at me around the corner of a shed and whispering to one another. Well, I was known in Buckkeep Town now as a man who had killed three other men. Murder or justified slaying, it mattered not. I’d have to expect a certain amount of finger-pointing and gossip. I hoped it would not hurt Hap’s standing among them. I pretended not to notice them and rode off.
I went next to Jinna’s cottage. When she opened her door to me, she first gave a little breathless gasp at sight of me. She stared at me for a moment, then looked past me and up and down the street, as if expecting Hap. I’m alone today,’ I said. ‘May I come in?’
‘Well. Tom. Of course. Come inside.’ She stared at me as if my wasted appearance rattled her. Then she stepped back to allow me into her house. Fennel snaked into the cottage between my feet.
Inside, I sank down into the chair by her fireside gratefully. Fennel immediately settled in my lap. ‘So sure of your welcome, aren’t you, Cat? As if the world was made for you.’ I stroked him and then looked up to find Jinna watching me apprehensively. Her concern touched me. I managed a smile. I’m going to be all right, Jinna. I had both feet in death’s mouth but I managed to step back. I’ll be myself again, with time. Right now, I’m a bit dismayed at how tired I am just from the ride down here.’
‘Well.’ Her hands tangled together as she spoke. Then she gave herself a little shake as if coming back to herself. She cleared her voice and spoke more strongly. ‘It doesn’t surprise me a bit. You’re no more than bones, Tom Badgerlock. Look how your shirt hangs on you! Sit still a bit and I’ll make you a strengthening tisane.’ At the look on my face, she amended that to, ‘Or perhaps just a cup of tea. And some bread and cheese.’
Fish? Fennel asked me.
Jinna says cheese.
Cheese isn’t fish, but it’s better than nothing.
‘Tea and bread and cheese sounds good. I grew very weary of broth and tisanes and mush when I was recovering. In truth, I am most tired of all of being an invalid. I’m determined that I’ll get up and move around a bit every day from now on.’
‘Probably the best thing for you,’ she agreed distractedly. She cocked her head and stared at me. ‘But what’s this? Your Badgerlock is gone!’ and she pointed at my hair.
I managed a blush. ‘I’ve dyed it. In an effort to look more youthful, I’m afraid. My sickness has taken a grave toll on my appearance.’
‘It has, I must agree. But to dye your hair as a remedy… well. Men. Now.’ She gave her head a small shake as if to clear it. I wondered what was troubling her, but an instant later she seemed to have set it aside. ‘Have you heard what has happened between Hap and Svanja?’
‘I have,’ I assured her.
‘Well. I saw it coming.’ And then, as she put water on to heat, she went on to tell me, with many tongue cluckings, what I already knew: that Svanja had forsaken Hap for her returning sailor, and had shown her silver earrings to every other girl in town.