'And Amber?' I asked quietly. Then I wondered that I dared venture the question.
He met my gaze levelly. 'She is a facet of me. No more than that. And no less.'
I wished I had not brought it up. I levered the conversation back into its old direction. 'Well. That solves nothing for me, as far as finding someone to watch over Hap for me.'
He nodded, and again there was a stiff little silence. I hated that we had become so self-conscious with one another but could not think how to change it. The Fool was still my old friend from my boyhood days. And he wasn't. Knowing that he had other 'facets' reordered all my ideas of him. I felt trapped, wanting to stay and ease our friendship back into its old channel, yet also wanting to flee. He sensed it and excused me.
'Well, I regret that I came at a bad time. I know you have to meet Swift soon. Perhaps we shall have a chance to speak again before we sail.'
'He can wait for me,' I heard myself say suddenly. 'It won't hurt him a bit.'
'Thank you,' he said.
And then again our conversation lapsed. He saved it by picking up one of the furled charts. 'Is this Aslevjal?' he asked as he unrolled it on the table.
'No. That's Skyrene. Our first port of call is at Zylig.'
'What's this over here?' He pointed to a curling bit of scrollwork on one shore of the island.
'Outislander ornamentation. I think. Or maybe it means a whirlpool, or a switching current or seaweed beds. I don't know. I think they see things differently from us.1
'Undoubtedly so. Have you a chart of Aslevjal?'
'The smaller one, with the brown stain at one end.'
He unrolled it next to the first, and glanced from one to the other. 'I see what you mean,' he murmured, tracing an impossibly lacy edge on the shoreline. 'What do you think that is?'
'Melting glacier. At least, that is what Chade thinks.'
'I wonder why he didn't give you my message.'
I feigned ignorance. 'As I said, perhaps he forgot. When I see him today, I'll ask him.'
'Actually, I'd like to speak to him as well. Privately. Perhaps I could come with you to your Skill-lesson today.'
I felt extremely uncomfortable yet I could think of no way to wriggle out of inviting him. 'That's not until afternoon today, after Swift's lessons and weapon practice.'
He nodded, unconcerned. 'That would be fine. I've things to tidy up in my chamber below.' As if inviting me to ask why, he added, 'I've nearly moved out of those rooms completely. There won't be much left for anyone to trouble about-'
'So you intend to move to the Silver Key permanently;' I asked.
For a moment, his face went blank. I had surprised him. Then he shook his head slowly at me, smiling gently. 'You never believe a thing I tell you, do you, Fitz? Ah, well, perhaps that has sheltered us both through many a storm. No, my friend. I will leave my Buckkeep chambers empty when I go. And most of the wonderful possessions and furnishings in the Silver Key belong to others already, accepted as collateral for my debts. Which I don't intend to pay, of course. Once I leave Buckkeep Town, my creditors will descend like crows and pick those quarters bare. And that will be the end of Lord Golden. I won't be returning to Buckkeep. I won't be returning anywhere.'
His voice did not quaver or shake. He spoke calmly and his eyes
met mine. Yet his words left me feeling as if a horse had kicked me. He spoke like a man who knew he was going to die, a man tidying up all the loose ends of his life. I experienced a shift in perception. My awkwardness with him was because of our recent quarrel, and because I knew I deceived him. I did not fear his death, because I knew I had already prevented it. But his discomfort had a different root. He spoke to me as a man who knew he faced death would speak to an old friend who seemed indifferent to that fact. How callous I must have seemed to him, avoiding him all those days. Perhaps he had thought I was carefully severing the contact between us before his death could do it suddenly and painfully. The words burst from me, the only completely true thing I'd said to him that day. 'Don't be stupid! Pm not going to let you die, Fool!' My throat suddenly closed. I picked up my cooling cup of tea and gulped from it hastily.
He caught his breath and then laughed, a spund like glass breaking. Tears stood in his eyes. 'You believe that so thoroughly, don't you? Ah, Beloved. Of all the things I must bid farewell to, you are the one most difficult to lose. Forgive me that I have avoided you. Better, perhaps, that we make a space between us and become accustomed to it before fate forces that upon us.'
I slammed my cup down. Tea splattered the table between us. 'Stop talking like that! Eda and El in a tangle, Fool! Is that why you've been squandering your fortune and living like some degenerate Jamaillian? Please tell me that you haven't spent all your windfall, that there is something left for ... for you to come back to.' And there my words halted, as I teetered at the edge of betraying myself.
He smiled strangely. 'It's gone, Fitz. It's all gone, or else arranged to be bestowed. And getting rid of that much wealth has not only been a challenge, but a far greater pleasure than possessing it ever was. I've left papers that Malta is to go to Burrich. Can you imagine his face when someone hands her reins to him? I know he will value her and care for her. And for Patience, oh, you should have seen it before I sent it on its way! A cartload of scrolls and books on every imaginable topic. She'll never imagine where they came from. And I've provided for Garetha, my garden maid. I've bought her a cottage
and a plot of earth to call her own, as well as left her the coin to keep herself well. That should cause a mild scandal; folks will wonder why Lord Golden left a garden girl so well endowed. But let them. She will understand and she won't care. And for Jofron, my jhaampe friend? I've sent her a selection of fine woods and all of my carving tools. She'll value them, and recall me fondly, regardless of how abruptly I left her. She's made her reputation as a toy-maker. Did you know that?'
As he divulged his generous mischief to me, he smiled and the shadow of imminent death nearly left his eyes. 'Please stop talking like that,' I begged him. 'I promise you, I won't let you die.'
'Make me no promises that can break us both, Fitz. Besides,' he took a breath. 'Even if you manage against all the fore-ordained grinding of fate to keep me alive, well, Lord Golden still must vanish. He's lived to the end of his usefulness. Once I leave here, I shall not be him again.'
As he spoke on of how he'd dismantled his fortune and how his name would fade to obscurity, I felt sick. He had been determined and thorough. When we left him behind on the docks, we'd be leaving him in a difficult situation. That Kettricken would provide for him, no matter how he had squandered his wealth, I had no doubt. I resolved to have a quiet word with her before we left, to prepare" her to rescue him if need be. Then I reined my thoughts back to the conversation, for the Fool was watching me oddly.
I cleared my throat and tried to think of sensible words. 'I think you are too pessimistic. If you have a coin or two left to your name, you'd best be frugal with it. Just in case I'm right and I keep you alive. And now I must go, for Swift, will be waiting for me.'
He nodded, rising as I did. 'Will you come down to my old chambers when it is time for us to meet Chade for the Skill-lesson?'
'I suppose so,' I concurred, trying not to sound reluctant.
He smiled faintly. 'Good luck with Burrich's boy,' he said, and left.
The teacups and charts were still on the table. I suddenly felt too weary to tidy them away, let alone hasten to my lesson with Swift. But I did, and when I arrived on the tower-top garden, he