‘She has said that the household seems to be declining in the last month or so. Old servants have left, and the new ones seem unmannered and undisciplined. She said there was an incident of some new cook’s assistants who helped themselves to the wine cellar. The cook was quite upset to find them drunk, and even more distressed to discover that the pilferage had been going on for some time. When Lady Bresinga did not send the guilty parties packing, the cook left, and she had been with the household for some years. And it seems there is a change in the guests entertained there. In place of the landed gentry and the lesser nobles who used to guest there, Lady Bresinga has hosted several hunting parties who seemed to my person to be rather unsophisticated, even boorish.’
‘What do you think it means?’
‘That perhaps Lady Bresinga is forming new alliances. I suspect her new friends are at best Witted, and at worst, Piebalds. Yet it may not be with the Lady’s willing consent. My person there says that Lady Bresinga spends more and more time alone in her own chambers, even when her “guests” are dining.’
‘Have we intercepted any letters between her and Civil?’
Chade shook his head. ‘Not in the last two months. There don’t seem to be any.’
I shook my head. ‘I find that exceedingly curious. Something is going on there. We should watch young Civil more closely than ever.’ I sighed. ‘This rat is the first evidence of Piebald activity that we’ve had since Laurel’s lynched twig. I had hoped that their restlessness had settled.’
Chade drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. He came back the table and sat down. ‘There have been other signs,’ he said quietly. ‘But like this one, they have not been obvious ones.’
This was news to me. ‘Oh?’
He cleared his throat. ‘The Queen has managed to quell executions of Witted ones in Buck. At least, public ones. I suspect that in the smaller towns and villages, it could happen and no word of it reaches us. Or it could be done under the pretence of punishment for some other crime. But in place of the executions, there have been murders. Are these citizens killing Witted? Or Piebalds moving against their own to force compliance with them. We can’t tell. Only that the deaths go on.’
‘We have discussed that before. As you said, there is little Queen Kettricken can do about that,’ I said neutrally.
Chade made a small sound in his throat. ‘It would be most helpful to me if you could convince our queen of that. It bothers her a great deal, Fitz. And not just because her son is Witted.’
I bowed my head in acknowledgement of her concern for me. ‘And outside Buck?’ I asked quietly.
‘It is more difficult. The duchies have always resented the crown taking too deep an interest in what they regard as “personal” questions of power and justice. To demand that Farrow or Tilth cease executing people for the Wit is like demanding that Shoaks cease all harassment along their border with Chalced.’
‘Shoaks has always wrangled with Chalced about the border they share.’
‘And Farrow and Tilth have always executed Witted ones.’
‘That’s not completely true.’ I leaned back in my chair. I had enjoyed having access to Chade’s scroll collection and the Buckkeep library. ‘Prior to the time of the Piebald Prince, the Wit was regarded in the same light as hedge magics. Not particularly powerful magic, but if a man had it, he had it. It did not make him evil and disgusting.’
‘Well,’ Chade conceded. ‘That’s so. But the attitude of the people is so set now that it is near impossible to root it out. Lady Patience has done her best in Farrow. When she has not been able to prevent an execution, she has most assiduously punished those involved afterward. No one can accuse her of not trying.’ He chewed his upper lip again. ‘Last week, the Queen received an anonymous message.’
‘Why wasn’t I told?’ I instantly demanded.
‘Why should you be told?’ he demanded in reply. Then, at my scowl, he softened his tone. ‘There was little to tell. It made no demands or threats. It simply listed by name those who had been executed in the Six Duchies for the Wit in the last six months.’ He sighed. ‘It was a sizeable list. Forty-seven names.’ He cocked his head at me. ‘It was not marked with the Piebald horse. So, we think this comes from a different faction of Witted.’
I pondered this for a time. ‘I think the Witted know they have the Queen’s ear. I think they are letting her know what is happening, to see what she will do. To take no action would be a mistake, Chade.’
He nodded at me, grudgingly pleased. ‘So I saw it also. The Queen says it shows we are making progress in gaining the trust of the Witted. They would not send such a list to her unless they thought there was something she could do. We are making an effort to find kin of the executed ones. Then each duchy will be informed by the Queen that they must pay blood-gold to them.’
‘I doubt you will have much success finding kin. Folk are not comfortable admitting they are related to anyone with the Wit.’
Again he nodded. ‘We have found a few, however. And the blood-gold for the others will be held here at Buckkeep by the Queen’s counting-man. Where she cannot find kin, she will command that notices be posted, informing that those related to the executed can come to Buck for compensation.’
I pondered a bit. ‘For the most part, they’ll be afraid to come. And gold may be seen as a cold thing. Some nobles may even think it is worth the price to rid their realms of Witted ones. Like a fee paid to a rat-catcher.’
Chade bent his head down and rubbed his temples. When he lifted his face and looked at me, his face was weary. ‘We do the best we can, FitzChivalry. Have you any better suggestions?
I thought a bit. ‘Not really. But I should like to see the scrolls they have sent. This one listing the names, and any earlier ones. Especially the one that came right before the Prince was taken.’
‘If you wish to see them, then you shall.’
There was something in his voice. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. I spoke carefully. ‘I’ve already said that I wished to them. Several times. I do wish to see them, Chade. When can I look at them?’
He gave me a look from under lowered brows. Then he got up and with ponderously slow steps walked to his scroll-rack. ‘I suppose that eventually all of my secrets must pass to you,’ he observed reluctantly. Then, by a means I did not discern, he did something to release a catch. The decorative crown-piece on top of the scroll-rack folded down. He reached inside, and after a moment he drew out three scrolls. They were all small and rolled tight into cylinders which could have been concealed in a man’s closed fist. I stood, but he shut the rack-front before I could see what else might be concealed there.
‘How did you open that?’ I demanded.
His smile was very small. ‘I said “eventually”, Fitz. Not “today”.’ His tone was that of my erstwhile mentor. He seemed to have had set aside his earlier annoyance with me. He came back to me and offered me the three rolled scrolls on his outstretched palms. ‘Kettricken and I had our reasons. I hope you will think them good enough.’
I took the scrolls, but before I could open even one, the scroll-rack swung to one side again and Thick entered. I flipped all three scrolls up my sleeve with a move so practiced it was almost instinctive. ‘And now I must be going, FitzChivalry.’ He turned from me to Thick. ‘Thick. You were to meet Tom earlier. Now that you are both here, I want you to spend some time together. I want you to be friends.’ The old assassin gave me a final withering look. ‘I’m sure that you’ll have a pleasant chat now. Good night to both of you.’
And with that he left us. Did he sound relieved to leave? He hastened out before the rack could even close behind Thick. The halt-wit carried a double load of wood in a canvas sling over one shoulder. He looked around, perhaps surprised to see Chade leave so swiftly. ‘Wood,’ he told me. He dumped his burden to the floor, straightened up, and turned to go.