TWENTY-FOUR
Connections
The legend of the White Prophet and his Catalyst might be better described as a religion from the far south, only echoes of which have reached Jamaillia. Like many philosophies from the south, it is riddled with superstitions and contradictions, so that no thinking man could subscribe to such foolishness. At the core of the White Prophet heresy is the concept that for ‘every age’ (and this space of time is never defined) there is born a White Prophet. The White Prophet comes to set the world on a better course. He or she (and in this duality of gender we may see some borrowing from the true faith of Sa) does this by means of his or her Catalyst. The Catalyst is a person chosen by the White Prophet because he stands at a juncture of choices. By changing what happens to the Catalyst in his lifetime, the White Prophet enables the world to follow a truer, better course of history. Any thinking man can see that, as there is no way to compare what has happened to what might have happened, White Prophets can always claim to have bettered the world. Nor can any of the adherents of this heresy explain the idea that the world and time roll in a circular track, endlessly repeating itself. A perusal of the history that we have recorded shows quite clearly that this is not so, yet adherents of this false belief will still cling to it.
Delnar, the wise old priest of Sa, has written in his Opinions that not only the followers of this heresy are to be pitied, but also the ‘White Prophets’ themselves. He proves conclusively that such self-deluded fanatics are actually suffering from a rare disorder that drains all pigment from their flesh, at the same time inducing hallucinations of prophetic dreams sent by gods.
— Wiflen, priest of Sa, Jorepin Monastery
Cults and Heresies of the Southlands
CHADE I need you, I need you now! Come to me in the workroom. CHADE. Please hear me, please come!
I skilled the summons wildly as I staggered up the stairs to my workroom. I do not even recall what urgent errand I had invented for my departure. I’d left him, the Fool and yet no longer the Fool, sitting by his fire with the brandy bottle. Now, heart hammering, I cursed my wasted body as I forced my legs to bend and push me along. I could not tell if Chade could hear me. Then I cursed myself and shifted my attention to Dutiful and Thick. I need to see Lord Chade immediately. With the greatest urgency. Find him and send him to me in the workroom.
Why? This from Dutiful.
Just do it!
Then, when I did stagger, sweating and puffing, into the workroom, I found Chade sitting impatiently by the hearth. He turned to glare at me. ‘What has kept you? I heard you’d come back into the castle, and I know Lord Golden would pass on my message. I don’t have all day to wait on you, boy. Important things are afoot, things that require your presence.’
‘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 Wars. 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 a 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 scepticism, 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 CANT 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.’
A slow smile dawned over Chade’s features, even as he said, ‘Oh, you must be mistaken. I was sure I heard a shout in the distance.’
‘So the Skill can seem at first. Until your mind learns to interpret what it senses.’
‘Oh, my,’ Chade said quietly. He looked afar, smiling pensively. Then he came back to me with a jolt. ‘I’d nearly forgotten why I’d summoned you. The Queen’s convocation of the Witted. It is actually going to happen, much to my surprise. We’ve had word to expect them in six days. It’s taken them time to gather themselves, and they ask that the Queen send her own guard to bring them in under a safe passage flag. They asked for an exchange of hostages too, of course, but I told her that was nonsense! Six days from now, they will send us a bird telling us where to meet them. They promise it will be within a day’s ride of Buckkeep. When we get to the rendezvous, they will come to us. They will be cloaked and hooded to protect their identities. I’d like you to go with them when they ride out.’