'Well, obviously there has been a mistake! What seems to elude you is that the error is not mine. For months, it has been settled that I am to accompany the Prince on his quest! Who better can advise him than a man like me who has travelled far and experienced many cultures? So take yourself out of my way! I myself shall select a suitable cabin, as you insist that none has been allotted to me, and move my comforts into it while you trot about and discover who is responsible for this gross error.'

The scribe had never paused in his head shaking and when he spoke, I was certain he was repeating words he'd already uttered. 'Lord Golden, I humbly regret any error that has been made. My list came directly from Lord Chade's hands, and my instructions were most explicit. Only those listed here are to be settled aboard the Prince's ship. Nor am I allowed to leave my post here, to run and ask if some mistake has been made. My orders are quite clear on that.' As if hoping to be rid of Golden, he added, 'Perhaps you have been assigned to one of the accompanying vessels.'

Lord Golden gave an exasperated sigh. As he turned to his servant, his eyes seemed to skate past me, but for the tiniest instant, our gazes met. 'Put that down!' he commanded the man, and the servant lowered a box to the ground with relief. Lord Golden promptly sat down on it. As he crossed his green-hosed legs, he gestured imperiously at all of his other servants. 'All of you! Set your burdens down where you are.'

'But . . . you're blocking the . . . please, Lord Golden . . .'

He ignored the scribe's anguish. 'Here I shall remain until this matter is resolved,' he announced in a wounded voice. He crossed his arms on his chest. Lifting his chin, Lord Golden gazed out over the waters as if nothing else in the world concerned him at all.

The scribe darted a look past him. His servants and equipment formed an effective blockade of the dock. Other passengers were beginning to clog the docks behind him, and longshoremen with barrows and tubs of supplies were gathering, too. The scribe took a breath and tried to summon authority. 'Sir, you will have to remove yourself and your belongings until this is resolved.'

'I shall not. So I suggest you send a runner to Lord Chade and

have him give you the authority to let me board. For nothing less will satisfy me.'

My heart sank. I knew that Lord Golden's remark was intended more for me than for the scribe. He had seen me. He expected I would hasten back to Buckkeep Castle and drop a word in Chade's ear that would bring a speedy solution to his quandary. He did not yet suspect that his difficulty was of my making, and that even if I regretted it, Chade would stand firm. As I turned away from the milling spectacle he was creating, I saw him give me the ghost of a wink. No doubt he thought that Lord Golden's grand departure from Buckkeep Town would become one of the town's legends.

I wanted to see no more of it. As I trudged up the steep streets that led back to the castle, I told myself there was no reason to agonize. Lord Golden would sit there until evicted from the spot. No worse than that. And when we sailed tomorrow without him, well, he'd remain safely in Buckkeep whilst the rest of us went off to whatever discomfort and boredom the journey could offer us. No worse than that.

Nonetheless, the rest of the day dragged for me. After days of last-minute rushing, I found my final hours empty. There was nothing left to do. My space in the guard barracks was empty of all save the clothing and weapon I would wear on the morrow. The Princes Guard would go forth handsomely. Leggings, shirt and over tunic were all of Buckkeep blue. The Farseer buck was embroidered on the breast. My new boots had been made to my feet and didn't pinch- I'd already greased them well against wet. Although it was spring, the cloaks we'd been given were of thick wool against the expected cold of the Out Islands. The Fool's gift sword laid out atop my colours seemed like a rebuke. I left it there, safe as anything was safe in a barracks where a man's honour was most of what he possessed in the world.

In my tower workroom, it was much the same. If Chade had noticed that Chivalry's sword now hung over the mantelpiece, he'd chosen not to comment on it. I moved ineffectually around the room, putting away the things that Chade had left scattered from his packing. The charts of the Out Islands and all other writings that Chade thought might be needed had already been

packed. For lack of anything else to do, I lay on the bed and teased the ferret. But soon even Gilly tired of that. He went off to hunt rats. I took myself off to the steams, scrubbed myself raw, and then shaved twice. Afterwards, I went to my barracks and got into the narrow bed there. The rest of the long room was quiet and nearly deserted. Only a few old hands had chosen an early bed as I had. The others were out and about Buckkeep Town, bidding the taverns and whores farewell. I pulled the blankets up around me and stared up at the shadowed ceiling.

I wondered how hard the Fool would try to follow us. Cbade had assured me that he wouldn't be able to get passage out of Buckkeep Town. He'd have to travel to a different port, and pay a lot of money to persuade a ship's captain to sail after us. Lord Golden wouldn't have that money. After his recent escapades, I doubted he'd find any friends willing to loan him any. He'd be stuck.

And furious with me, I decided. He had a keen mind. He'd soon deduce who had been behind his abandonment- He would know that I had chosen his life over what he perceived as his destiny. He'd feel no gratitude. His Catalyst was supposed to aid him in changing the course of the world, not thwart him.

I closed my eyes and sighed. It took me several tries to compose myself. When finally I floated just beneath the surface of sleep, I reached out for Nettle. This time, she was sitting in an oak tree, wearing a gown of butterfly wings. I looked up at her from the knoll beneath the tree. I was the man-wolf, as I always was in her dreams. 'All those dead butterflies,' I said sorrowfully, shaking my head at her.

'Don't be silly. It's only a dream.' She stood up on the branch and leapt- I reared onto my hind legs and opened my arms to catch her, but the butterflies of her gown all fluttered simultaneously, and she floated, light as thistledown, and landed on her feet beside me. She wore one large yellow butterfly in her hair like a hair ribbon. It slowly fanned its wings. The colour of her gown shifted in waves as the butterflies wafted their wings lazily.

'Ew. Don't all the little legs tickle?'

'No. It's a dream, remember? You don't have to keep the unpleasant parts.'

'You never have nightmares, do you?' I asked in admiration.

'I think that I used to, when I was very small. But I don't any more. Why would anyone stay in a dream that didn't please her?'

'Not all of us can control our dreams the way you can, child. You should count it as a blessing.'

'Do you have nightmares?'

'Sometimes. Don't you recall where you found me last time, crossing that talus slope?'

'Oh. Yes, I remember that. But I thought it was something you liked to do. Some men like doing dangerous things, you know.'

'Perhaps. But some of us have had our fill of that, and would avoid nightmares if we could-'

She nodded slowly. 'My mother has terrible nightmares sometimes. Even when I go into them and tell her to come out, she won't. She either won't or can't see me. And my father ... I know he has bad dreams, because sometimes he shouts aloud. But I can't find my way into his dreams at all.' She stopped for a moment's thought. 'I think that's why he started drinking again. When he's drunk, he passes out instead of falling asleep. Do you think he could be hiding from his nightmares?'

'I don't know,' I said, and wished she had not told me such things. 'I bring you news that may ease both of them, however. Swift is on his way back home.'