‘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.
ELEVEN
Tidings from Bingtown
‘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 on the hands. Beyond the Rain River, take on no water that comes from inland. In a day it will go green, and in three it seethes with slimy vermin. It will foul your casks so they can never be used again. Better to keep the crew on short rations than to put ashore there for any reason. Not even to weather a storm or take a day’s rest at anchor in an inviting cove is safe. Dreams and visions will poison your sailors’ minds, and your ship will be plagued with murder, suicide and senseless mutiny. A bay that beckons you to safe harbour may seethe with savage sea serpents before the night is over. Water-maidens come to the top of the waves, to beckon with bare breasts and sweet voices, but the sailor that plunges in for that pleasure is dragged under to be food for their sharp-toothed mates hiding below the water.
The only safe harbour along all that stretch is the city of Bingtown. The anchorage is good there, but beware of their docks where ensorcelled ships may call down curses on your own vessels of honest wood. Best to avoid their docks. Drop your hook in Trader Bay and row in, and likewise have goods brought out to your ship. Water and food from this port can be trusted, though some of the wares from their shops are uncanny and may bring ill luck to a voyage. In Bingtown, all manner of things may be bought and sold, and the trade goods from there are unlike others in the wide world. Yet keep your crew close by your vessel, and let only the master and mate go ashore and amongst the townsfolk. Better for common ignorant sailors not to touch foot to that soil, for it can entrance men of lesser mind and intellect. Truly is it said of Bingtown, ‘if a man can imagine it, he can find it for sale there’. Not all that a man can imagine is wholesome to a man, and much is sold there that is not. Beware, too, of the secret people of that land, sometimes seen in the night. If brings on the foulest of bad luck should one of the Veiled Folk of that place cross a captain’s path when he is returning to his ship. Better to spend that night on shore, and return to your ship on the next day than to sail immediately after such an ill omen.
Beyond Bingtown, leave the safety of the inner passage and take your ship out Wildside. Better to brave the storms and harsh weather than to tempt the pirates, serpents, sea-maidens and Others of those waters, to say nothing of the shifting bottoms and treacherous currents. Make your next stop corrupt Jamaillia with its many raucous ports. Again, keep a tight hand on your crew, for they are known to steal sailors there.
— Captain Banrop’s Advice to Merchant Mariners
I left Prince Dutiful a note on the table in the Skill-tower. It said only, ‘Tomorrow’. Before the dawn watch had changed, I was standing outside Master Gindast’s establishment. The lamplight from the windows sliced across the snowy yard. In that dimness, apprentices crunched along the footpaths, hauling water and firewood for both the master’s home and his workshop and clearing snow from the canvassed tops of the wood stockpiles and the pathways. I looked in vain for any sign of Hap amongst them.
Light had brought colour to the day when he finally appeared. I could tell at a glance how he had spent his night. There was a gleam of wonder in his eyes still, as if he could not grasp his own good fortune, and an almost drunken swagger to his walk. Had I shone like that the first morning after Molly had shared herself with me? I tried to harden my heart as I lifted my voice and called out, ‘Hap! A word with you.’
He was smiling as he came to meet me. ‘It will have to be a short one then, Tom, for I’m already late.’
The day was blue and white around us, the air crisp with chill. and my son stood grinning up at me. I felt a traitor to all of it as I said, ‘And I know why you’re late. As does Svanja’s father. We were looking for you last night.’
I had expected him to be abashed. He only grinned wider, a smile between men. ‘Well. I’m glad you didn’t find us.’ I felt an irrational urge to strike him, to wipe that expression from his face. It was as if he stood within a burning barn and rejoiced at the heat, unmindful of the peril to himself and Svanja. That, I suddenly knew, was what infuriated me, that he seemed completely unaware of how he endangered her. An edge of my anger crept into my voice.
‘So. I take it Master Hartshorn didn’t find you either. But I imagine he’ll he waiting for Svanja when she gets home.’
If I had hoped to dampen his reckless spirit, I didn’t succeed. ‘She knew he would be,’ he said quietly. ‘And she decided it was worth it. Don’t look so serious, Tom. She knows how to handle her father. It will be fine.’
‘It may be any number of things, but I doubt “fine” will be one of them.’ My voice grated past my anger. How could he be so cavalier about this? ‘You’re not thinking, boy. What will this do to her family, to their day-to-day life, to know their daughter has made this choice? And what will you do, if you get her with child?’
The smile finally faded from his face, but he still stood straight and faced me. ‘I think that’s for me to worry about, Tom. I’m old enough now to take charge of my own life. But, to put your mind at rest, she told me that there are ways women know to keep such a thing from happening. At least, until we are ready for it, until I can make her my wife.’
Perhaps the gods punish us by bringing us face to face with our own foolish mistakes, condemning us to watch our children fall into the same traps that crippled us. For all the sweetness of the secret hours I had shared with Molly, there had been a price. At the time, had thought that we shared it, that the only cost was keeping our secret. Molly had known better, I am sure. She had been the one to pay it, far more than I had. If Burrich had not existed to shelter and shield them both, my daughter would have paid it as well. Perhaps she still would, in her differences, in the dangers of being a cuckoo’s nestling, unlike her brothers. I wondered if I could warn Hap, if he would listen to me, as I had not listened to Burrich or Verity. I pushed my anger aside and spoke out of my fears for them both.
‘Hap. Please hear me. There are no safe and certain ways for a woman to avoid conceiving. All of them have a risk and a price to her. Every time she lies with you, she must wonder, “Will I conceive from this? Will I bring shame to my family?” You know I would not cast you from my household for any mistake you made, but Svanja’s life is not so certain. You should protect her, not expose her to danger. You are asking her to risk all, for the pleasure of being with you, with no guarantees. What will you do if her father turns her out? Or beats her? What will you do if she suddenly finds herself ostracized and condemned by her friends? How can you be responsible for that?’