'Oh, dear Eda of the Fields!' Lacey exclaimed. I thought I might still be able to retreat, but then Lacey, stolid, solid Lacey, turned slowly and fainted dead away into the lavender.

'Whatever are you doing, dear? Did you lose something?' Patience exclaimed, peering at her. And then, when she perceived Lacey was supine and unmoving, she turned on me, asking in outrage, 'See what you've done now! Frightened the poor old woman to death, you have! Well, don't stand there, you simpleton. Pluck her out of the lavender before she crushes it completely!'

'Yes, ma'am,' I said, and stooping, I lifted her. Lacey had always been a hearty woman, and age had not dwindled her. Nonetheless, I managed to raise her, and even carried her to a shady spot before I set her down on the grass there. Patience had followed us, muttering and shaking her head over how clumsy I was.

'Faints at the drop of a hat she does, now! Poor old dear. Do you feel better now?' She eased herself down beside her companion and patted her hand. Lacey's eyes fluttered.

I'll fetch some water, shall I?'

'Yes. And hurry. And don't even think of running off, young man. This is all your doing, you know.'

I ran to the kitchens for a cup and filled it at the well on my way back. By the time I got there, Lacey was sitting up and Lady Patience was fanning her old servant, alternately scolding and sympathizing. '. . . and you know as well as I do how the eyes play tricks on us at our age. Why, only last week, I tried to shoo my wrap off the table, thinking it was the cat. It was the way it was curled, you know.'

'My lady, no. Look well. It is him or his ghost. He looks just as his father looked at that age. Look at him, do.'

I kept my eyes down as I knelt by her and offered her the cup. 'A bit of water, ma'am, and I'm sure you'll feel better. It was most likely the heat.' Then, as Lacey took the cup from me, Patience reached across her to seize my chin in her hand. 'Look at me, young man! Look at me, I said!' And then, as she leaned closer and closer to me, she exclaimed, 'My Chivalry never had a nose like that. But his eyes do ... remind me. Oh. Oh, my son, my son. It cannot be. It cannot be.'

She let go of me and sat back. Lacey offered her the cup of water, and Patience took it absently. She drank from it, and turning to Lacey, said calmly, 'He wouldn't dare. He wouldn't have.'

Lacey still stared at me. 'You heard the rumours, same as me, my lady. And that Witted minstrel sang us the song, about the dragons and how the Witted Bastard rose from the grave to serve his king.'

'He wouldn't,' Patience repeated. She stared at me, and my tongue was frozen to the roof of my mouth. Then, 'Help me up, young man. And Lacey, too. She has the fainting spells, these days. Eating too much fish is what I think brings them on. And river fish at that. Makes her wobbly, so you'll just see us back to our chambers, won't you?'

'Yes, ma'am. I'll be happy to.'

'I daresay you'll be happy to. UnI'll we get you behind closed doors. Take her arm, now, and help her along.' But that was easier said than done, for Patience clung to my other arm as if a river might sweep her away if she let go.

Lacey was, in truth, swaying as she walked, and I felt very bad indeed to have given her such a shock. Neither one of them said another word to me, through twice Patience pointed out caterpillars on the roses and said they were never tolerated in the old days. Once inside, we still had a long walk through the great hall, and then up the wide stairs. I was grateful that it was only one flight, for Patience muttered nasty words as she mastered each riser, and Lacey's knees cracked alarmingly. We went down the hall and Patience waved at a door for me. It was one of the best chambers in Buckkecp, and it pleased me more than I could say that Queen Kettricken had accorded her this respect- Lady Patience's travelling trunk was already open in the middle of the room, and a hat was already perched on the mantel. Kettricken had even recalled that Lady Patience preferred to dine in her chambers, for a small table and two chairs had been placed in the fall of sunlight from the deep-set window.

I saw each of them to a chair, and when they were seated, asked them if there was anything else I could bring them.

'Sixteen years,' Patience snapped. 'You can fetch me sixteen years! Shut that door. I don't suppose it would he wise for this to be gossip all over Buckkeep. Sixteen years, and not a peep, not a hint. Tom, Tom, whatever were you thinking?'

'More likely, not thinking at all,' Lacey suggested, looking at me with martyred eyes. That stung, for always when I had been a boy and in trouble with Patience, Lacey had taken my part. She seemed to have recovered well from her faint. There were spots of colour on her cheeks. She ponderously rose from her chair and went into the adjoining room. In a few moments, she returned with three teacups and a bottle of brandy on a little tray. She set it down on the small table between them, and I winced at the sight of her lumpy knuckles and gnarled fingers. Age had crippled those nimble hands that once had tatted lace by the hour. 'I suppose we could all do with a bit of this. Not that you deserve any,' she said coldly. 'That was quite a fright you gave me in the garden. Not to mention years of grief.'

'Sixteen years,' Patience clarified, in case I had managed to forget in the last few moments. Then, turning to Lacey, she said, 'I told you he wasn't dead! When we prepared his body to bury him, even then, washing his cold legs, I told you he couldn't be dead. I don't know how I knew it, but I knew it. And I was right!'

'He was dead,' Lacey insisted. 'My lady, he had not breath to fog a bit of glass, nor a single thump of his heart. He was dead.' She pointed a ringer at me. It shook slightly. 'And now you are not. You had best have a good explanation for this, young man.'

'It was Burrich's idea,' I began, and before I could say another word, Patience threw up her hands in the air, crying, 'Oh, I should have guessed that man would be at the bottom of this. That's your girl he has been raising all these years, isn't it? Three years after we'd buried you, we heard a rumour. That tinker, Cotttlesby, that sells such nice needles, he told us he had seen Molly in, oh, some town, with a little girl at her side. I thought to myself then, how old? For I said to Lacey, when Molly left my service so abruptly, that she puked and slept like a woman with child. Then, she was gone, before I could even offer to help her with the babe. Your daughter, my grandchild! Then, later, I heard that Burrich had gone with her, and when I asked about, he was claiming all the children as his own. Well. I might have known. I might have known.'

I had not been prepared for Patience to be quite so well informed. I should have been. In the days after my death, she had run Buckkeep Castle, and developed a substantial network of folk who reported to her. 'I think I could do with some brandy,' I said quietly. I reached for the decanter, but Patience slapped my hand away.

I'll do it!' she exclaimed crossly. 'Do you think you can pretend to be dead and vanish from my life for sixteen years and then walk in and pour yourself some of my good brandy? Insolence!'

She got it open, but when she tried to pour, her hand shook so wildly that she threatened to deluge the table. I took it from her, as she began to gasp, and poured some into our cups. By the time I set the bottle down, she was sobbing. Her hair, never tidy for long, had half fallen down. When had so much grey come into it? I knelt down before her and forced myself to look up into her faded eyes. She covered her face with her hands and sobbed harder. Cautiously, I reached up and tugged her hands from her face. 'Please believe me. It was never by my choice, Mother. If I could have come back to you without putting the people I loved at risk, I would have. You know that. And the way you prepared my body for burial may have saved my life. Thank you.'