I lay panting on the floor of the ice tunnel. When I found my eyes and opened them, the world was red and black. Then I realized I was looking into the glowing contents of the kettle. I felt the container of powder under my fingers. It rolled under my hand as I scrabbled away from the heat. Thinking about anything seemed like too much trouble. Somewhere, around me and inside me and below me, the dragons spoke to one another. Their communication felt like thunder rolling in my lungs. I did not wish to be a party to that communion. Already I had nearly died of it. I gathered all my strength and managed to pull my knees up under me. Crawling would work, 1 told myself. I could crawl out.
Three things happened simultaneously. I heard Dutiful shout to me from the entrance of the tunnel. I felt a sudden crack start in the ice beneath my hand. It raced off in a jagged line toward the dawn light that was now seeping into me. And the Pale Woman invaded my mind.
She had the Skill. I had known and should have been more careful. Now she looked through my soul with her colourless eyes and pierced me with her hate. Her words slapped me. You chose, bastard king. You chose a dragon over your Beloved. And you will live with that choice. As will he. At least, for a short time. Until I let you see what you have chosen!
And then she was gone, leaving me wretched and soiled from that contact with her mind. Such hate and virulence knows no bounds, and I knew that I had won for the Fool every coin of pain
she could wring from him before his mind was gone. My spine turned to jelly, and I sprawled on the ground with neither the will nor the strength to move any further. Again, I felt that vague stirring beneath me, and heard the oddly shrill sounds of complaining ice. Then all was stillness again. I longed to plunge into it as Icefyre had, seeking my death in it, but Dutiful was kneeling by me, shaking me frantically.
'Get up, Fitz. Get up! We have to get out of here. The dragon is stirring and the ice is cracking. He could bring it all down on us. Get up.'
And when I could not, he grasped me by the collar and dragged me, out of the tunnel and into the excavation and up the ramp into the world of light and men.
TWENTY-FOUR
Tintaglia's Command
And when the shepherd turned warrior had wearied himself with whetting his blade on the dragon's impervious hide, he fell back from him, sweating and panting. Yet the moment he had breath to curse him, he did so again, saying he would take vengeance times three on the creature that had eaten his entire flock.
At those words, the dragon seemed to waken from his sated sleep. Slower than a sunrise, he lifted his head and opened his eyes. He looked down at the man and his blade, and his great green eyes swirled and whirled. Some say they were like whirlpools in the deep, and that they sucked Herderson's soul down into their depth and made it the dragon s servant. Others say that Herderson stood firm before the dragon's gaze, and it was only when Herderson breathed in the dragon's outblown breath that he became subject to the creature. It is a hard thing to bear true witness to, for those who had gathered to watch Herderson attempt to slay the dragon had come no closer than the edge of his pasture.
Be it his gaze or his breath, it took the man's heart. He suddenly flung aside both shield and sword and cried out, 'Forgive me, emerald one, oh creature of jewel and flame and truth. I did not perceive what glory and might was yours when I first approached you. Forgive me, and allow me ever after to serve you and sing your praise/
- The Tale of the Dragon's Slave
The world was a bright white place and cold. I found my feet, got them, firmly under me and remembered how to make them work. From somewhere, Burrich came, to grab my other arm.
Then Dutiful, Burrich and I were staggering and sliding through the dawn light toward the huddled tents. I saw Chade all but running up the hill toward us. At a considerable distance behind him, Thick trudged along. Longwick and his remaining guardsmen were following them. The Wit-coterie had tumbled half-dressed from their tent, and stood in the snow, pointing up the hillside and shouting to one another as they pulled on their coats and boots. The Hetgurd warriors stood apart and staring, nodding to one another as if they had expected a doom like this all along. Icefyre's first try at breaking free had felt like a small earthquake, and he continued to make efforts as we hastened away from the excavation. Behind us, we felt as much as heard the dragon shuddering to break free of his icy prison. The cracking ice squeaked and popped and groaned as he fought it. Even so, it seemed to me that each effort was feebler than the first one. Then, when we were halfway down the hill, the creaking of the ice ceased. My Wit-sense of Icefyre remained as strong, but that awareness told me of a creature that had expended tremendous effort and was now on the verge of collapse.
'It would be ironic,' I panted to Burrich and Dutiful, 'if after all these years of longing to die, he finally perished in an attempt to live.'
Burrich snorted. 'We all perish in our last attempt to live.'
'What went wrong?' Dutiful demanded. 'Why did you wake him instead of just killing him? Did the powder fail? What changed your mind?'
Before I could answer, Chade was upon us. My old mentor stalked toward me, trembling with his outrage. His questions were harsher.
'How could you?' he demanded, his voice shaking with passion as soon as he was within range. 'How could you betray your own blood that way? You were sent to kill the dragon. What right do you have to decide against that? How could you turn on your family?'
'I haven't turned on my family. I've let the Fool be Forged for the sake of the Farseers,' I said. Speaking that harsh truth aloud, under the bright morning light, suddenly made it real. I had to take a breath. In a quieter voice, I went on. 'She's had us watching the puppets, Chade, until we forgot that she was up there, pulling the
strings. The Pale Woman wishes the dragon killed, yes. Perhaps if we killed him, she even would have given us back the Fool, but only so that he could witness the destruction of all he'd hoped for. Only so he could witness the end of the Farseer line.'
Heedless of the men who were drawing into hearing range, I lined out my logic for Dutiful and him. In their prolonged silence, I heard them trying my reasoning and finding it sound. Into the silence, I said to Dutiful, 'I've broken your promise, and lost you your bride. But I cannot tell you I am sorry to have done so. I fear it would have been a marriage founded on death, and death would be the only fruit of it. For now, at least, we've chosen life. Life for the dragon. And possibly a stronger peace between the Six Duchies and the Out Islands than we could have built on the dragon's death.'
'Fine words!' Chade fumed. 'Grand words, but you've no idea what you've chosen. And neither do I! If that thing breaks out of there and is hungry, will he "choose life" for us? Or a hearty meal? I admit I've been short sighted. Perhaps you were wise not to kill him. But that does not mean you were wise to wake him. Who will thank you for this, FitzChivalry, when this long day is done?'
'FitzChivalry?' I heard Civil say, striding up behind Chade. 'FitzChivalry? Is that who he means? Tom Badgerlock is FitzChivalry, the Witted Bastard?' He turned to clutch Web's arm incredulously, demanding an answer. His eyes were wide, and he was breathless with shock. DutifuPs friend stared at me as if he had never seen me before, but there was no admiration in his eyes. He was a man cheated of a legend, shown common earth when he had expected the gleam of gold.