As we boarded, with still no sign of Thick, my heart sank and my belly knotted with fear. We could not leave him here alone, no matter how annoyed Dutiful might be with him. There was not just the fear of what he might do in our absence, but my worry over what might be done to him, stripped of the Prince's protection. Would the Six Duchies nobles care much what became of a half-wit lackey in Dutiful's absence? I leaned on the railing, and stared over the head of the crowd milling on the docks, up to the stronghouse. Web came to lean beside me. 'Well. Looking forward to the voyage?'
I smiled bitterly. 'The only voyage I'm looking forward to is the one that takes us home.'
'I haven't seen Thick come aboard yet.'
'1 know. We're still waiting for him. He was reluctant to get on another boat, but we're hoping he'll come on his own.'
Web nodded slowly and sagely to that, and then wandered off.
I stood, fretting and chewing the side of my thumb. Thick? Are you coming? The ship will leave soon.
Leave me alone, Dogstink
He flung the name with intense anger, so that I almost smelled the image he hurled at me. On the edges of his fury, I could feel his fear and hurt that we would so abandon him. Our departure had agitated and worried him, but I still suspected his stubbornness would win out.
Time and tide wait for no man, Thick. Decide soon. Because when the waters are right, the ship has to leave. And after that, even if you let us know you've changed your mind and want to come, it will be too late. We won't be able to come back for you.
Don't care. And with that, he slammed his walls so tight that
it felt like a physical slap. I was left feeling that I'd made the situation worse.
Too soon, I saw the final preparations for our departure begin. A late arrival of cargo from the Maiden's Chance came on board. There were a number of small casks, and I smiled, wondering if Chade had recalled a stash of brandy on the other ship. Weaponry and tools came aboard as well, as we filled up the odd corners of the hold with anything Chade thought might be helpful. But finally, it was time to depart. Well-wishers who had followed the Prince on board were leaving. The Hetgurd representatives arrived with their gear. All the last-minute cargo was stowed out of the way and the small boats that would tow us out of the harbour and into open water were manned and waiting. Web came to stand anxiously beside me at the railing.
'I don't think he's coming,' I said quietly- I felt ill. 'I'll go and speak to the Prince. We'll have to send someone after him.'
'I already have,' Web replied grimly.
'You did? What did Prince Dutiful say?' I hadn't seen any of our guardsmen depart from the ship.
'Oh. No, not spoken to him,' Web replied distractedly. 'I sent someone. Swift.' More to himself, he muttered, 'I hope this isn't an unfair test. I think he can do it. But perhaps I should have gone myself.'
'Swift?' Mentally I measured the growing lad against Thick, and shook my head. 'He'll never be able to do it. Thick is awkward, but he's surprisingly strong when he's roused. He might do the boy harm. I'd best go after them.'
Web seized me by the arm. 'No! Don't go! Look. He's done it. They're coming now!'
The relief in his voice was as if Swift had conquered some monumental task. Perhaps, in all justice, he had. I watched them come, the short man trudging along by the slight boy. Swift carried Thick's pack and held his hand protectively. That shocked me, but even at this distance, the boy's attitude was visible. His head was up and wary, and he met the eyes of every man they passed, as if challenging him to mock the half-wit or delay their progress. It was as great a display of courage as I'd ever seen, and my evaluation of
the boy soared. It would have taxed my will to lead Thick by the hand through that throng, yet on they came. As they got closer and I could see the expression on Thick's face, I realized that more was at work here than simply sending a boy to bid him come.
'What is it?' I asked Web in a low voice.
'It's the Old Blood. As well you know.' He spoke softly, not turning to look at me. 'It works best Wit to Wit as you would say. But even on those who have no Wit, one can exert a drawing closer. I've had Swift practising. Today was a sterner test than I wished to set him. But he's done well.'
'Yes. I can see that he has.' There was a look of trust on Thick's face as the boy led him toward the boarding plank. He hesitated there, halting. Then Swift spoke softly to him, and, still holding the little man's hand, led him up the gangway. I debated before next I spoke, but curiosity dragged the words from me. 'I know how to push someone away from me with the Wit. I think I've always known how to do that. But how do you draw someone closer with it?'
'Ah. Well. The pushing away might come by instinct. Usually the drawing close does, too. I would have thought you knew it; now I understand why you've never used it with Thick.' He cocked his head and looked at me appraisingly. 'Sometimes, the things you don't know baffle me. As if you'd forgotten or somehow lost some part of yourself.'
I think he saw the uneasiness that his words woke in me, for he suddenly changed his tone and spoke in generality. 'I think all creatures use that drawing force, to some extent, with their young or when they wish to attract a mate. Perhaps you've used it without realizing it. But, you see, that is why a man given this magic should make an effort to learn about it. To be aware of how he's using it.' He let a silence fall, then added, Til offer again to teach you what you need to know.'
'I have to go and see to Thick and get him settled.' I turned hastily to go.
'Yes. I know that you do. You've many tasks and duties, and I won't claim to know all that you do for our prince. I'm sure that at any moment of the day, you can find some reason to be too
busy for this. But a man makes time for what is important in his
life. So. I'll be hoping that you'll come to me. This is the last time I'll make the offer. Now it's up to you to accept it.'
And before I could hurry away, he turned and quietly left me there. Overhead, Risk lifted off from our mast with a lonely cry that rode down the wind. Lines were tossed, the planks were pulled in, and in the little boats men leaned to their oars to pull us away from the docks and out to where the wind could catch us. I promised myself that I'd find the time, today, to speak to Web about privately learning about my magic. I hoped I didn't lie.
But nothing is ever simple. With the Narcheska, her father Arkon Bloodblade and her Uncle Peottre on board, most of Dutiful's and Chade's social time was taken up with one or another of them. I had little private conversation with either of them. Instead, as before, I was confined to Thick's companionship. As he was miserable, he saw no reason why I shouldn't be also. The minor bruises and scrapes he had given me on the previous voyage were renewed, and there was little I could do about it. Putting up walls against his subtle Skill-influence would have reduced my awareness of Chade and Dutiful. So I endured.
To make it worse, the water we crossed was nasty. We battled currents and tides that always seemed to oppose us. For two days of our journey, our ship rocked badly and Thick was genuinely seasick, as were Cockle, Swift and Civil. The rest of us ate little and moved from one hand-hold to another. I glimpsed a very pale Narcheska taking a walk on the deck on Peottre's arm. Neither of them looked as if they were enjoying themselves. The slow days crawled by.
I did not rind an opportunity to discuss the Wit with Web. From time to time, I would recall my intention, but it always seemed to come to me at a moment when a dozen other things wanted my attention. I tried to pretend it was circumstance that kept me from approaching him. In reality, I could not name what held me back.