The process of bidding farewell to the Narcheska's father proceeded grudgingly after that. The formal farewells involved the Hetgurd men,  Chade, the Prince,  Peottre and the Narcheska.

The rest of us were left standing as informal witnesses. Thick was wandering idly about on the beach, overturning rocks and poking at the tiny crabs he disturbed there. 1 pretended to be manoeuvring to keep an eye on him as I edged closer and closer to the Fool. He appeared to be aware of my efforts, for he walked a little apart from Swift and Cockle. When I stood within hearing distance of a soft word, I said quietly, 'So. Despite all my efforts, you contrived to get here. How did you do it?'

Although we are of a height, he still somehow managed to look down coolly on me. There was stillness in his face that bespoke a great anger. I thought he was not going to reply to me. Then, 'I flew,' he said coldly. He stood, not looking at me, breathing quietly. I felt somewhat encouraged that he had not stalked away but wondered if that was merely because he did not wish to call attention to our speaking. I ignored his mockery of my question.

'How can you be angry at me? You know why I did it. You said that if you came here you would die here. So I arranged that you would not come here.'

For a time, he was silent. We both watched Arkon Bloodblade pushed off in a small boat. Two of his Boar warriors took the oars and leaned into them heartily. Their expressions proclaimed that they were happy to be leaving this island. The Fool gave me a sideways glance. His eyes had darkened to the colour of strong tea in a glass. Clean of powder and paint, his face was a smooth golden brown. 'You should have respected that I knew what I had to do,' he rebuked me.

'If you knew that I was going to my death, would not you try to stop me?'

It was the wrong question to ask him, and I knew that almost as soon as I had asked it. He stared out at the ship in the harbour where sailors laboured with the anchor chain and the sails and spoke in a low voice,, his lips scarcely moving. 'On the contrary. Many times I have known that faith or your own stubbornness would endanger your life, but I have always respected your decisions to do so.'

Then he turned and walked slowly away from me. Swift sent me an odd glance, then hurried off to follow him. 1 noticed Civil looking after them with an expression of distaste. I heard the crunch

of footsteps on beach gravel, and turned to find Web approaching me. It was hard for me to meet his eyes. I still felt oddly guilty, as if I had insulted him by refusing his offer of lessons. If he felt anything of the kind, he concealed it well. He gestured after the Fool and Swift with his chin. 'You know him, don't you?'

'Of course.' The question surprised me. 'He's Lord Golden, from Buckkeep. Didn't you recognize him?'

'No, I didn't. Not at first. It wasn't until Lord Chade called him Lord Golden that I perceived any similarity. But even when I was told his name, I felt that I did not truly know him at all. Yet I think that you do. He is an odd creature. Can you sense him?'

I knew what he meant. The Fool had never left any impression on my Wit-sense. 'No. And he has no scent.'

'Ah.' That was all he said, but I suspected that I had given him much to ponder.

I looked down at my feet on the gravelly sand. 'Web. I'm sorry. I keep intending to find time to spend with you, but I never seem to manage it. It isn't that I'm not interested, or that I disdain what you have to teach. It just seems that so many things come between me and what I would like to be doing.'

'Like now,' he replied with a grin. He raised his eyebrows and looked at Thick. The little man was hunkered down beside a piece of driftwood that he had overturned. His attention on the sand fleas and small crabs he had exposed was so intense that he was ignoring the waves that were nearly lapping about his feet. If I didn't intervene soon, he would have wet shoes and spend the rest of the day in misery. I exchanged an understanding glance with Web, and hurried down the beach toward my charge.

Even before the ship was out of sight, Longwick was issuing orders to his men. With the casual precision of the veteran soldier, he set them to breaking up our provisions into manageable loads. From the number of packs he was preparing, it was obvious he expected all to share in the task of transporting our goods to our next campsite. Thick had left off poking about on the beach and now sat disconsolately in the door of our tent, a blanket draped around his shoulders. The day was not truly that cold. I wondered anxiously if he were starting to burn with fever again. I went to confer with Longwick.

'How far do we expect to journey today?' I tilted my head toward Thick to explain my concern to him.

Longwick followed my gesture and scowled worriedly at my concern. 'I've been told it's a three-day journey to where the dragon is trapped in the ice- But I'm sure you know that such measurements of distance mean nothing. A one-day journey for a seasoned traveller with a light pack can be a three-day trek for a courtier with a full load.' He lifted his eyes to scan the clear skies and then the icy peaks of the island speculatively. 'It's not going to be a pleasant journey for any of us,' he opined. 'It's always winter when you're crossing a glacier.'

1 thanked him and left. The other men had moved to strike their tents, but Thick bad not budged from ours. I tried to put on a pleasant expression, but my heart sank at the thought of the task before me. If he bad hated me for putting him onto a ship, how was he going to feel about me after I had dragged him on a hike across a glacier? 'Time to pack up, Thick,' I informed him cheerfully.

'Why?'

'Well, if we're going to slay the dragon, we have to go to where the dragon is.'

'1 don't want to slay the dragon.'

'Well, we won't actually be the ones to slay the dragon. That will be up to the Prince. We'll just be there to help him.'

'1 don't want to go-oo.' He dragged the word out mournfully- But to my relief, he stood and stepped out of the tent as if expecting me to take it down immediately.

'I know, Thick. I don't want to go hiking through all that snow and ice either. But we have to. We're King's Men, and that is what we do. Now, before we take down the tent, we both have to dress more warmly. Shall we do that?'

'We don't have a king.'

'Prince.Dutiful will be king some day. And when he is, we'll still be his. So, we are King's Men, even now. But you can say you're a Prince's Man if you like that better.'

'I don't like snow and ice.' Grudgingly, he moved back into the tent and looked about it helplessly.

'I'll get out your things,' I assured him, and proceeded to do so.

I've been many things in my days, and serving as valet to the little man did not strike me as so strange as it might have at one time. I laid out his clothes and then stuffed him into them. It was like dressing a large child. He complained of his sleeves dragging up inside the second shirt I put on him, and then his boots were too tight with the extra stockings. By the time I had him dressed, I felt sweaty and smothered myself. I sent him outside, warning him to stay away from the water, as I added a layer to my own clothes and then repacked my and Thick's belongings.

I had to smile when I realized that I was dreading the hike because of the way the cold always made my scars ache. Because of my recent Skill-healing, I had no scars now, I reminded myself; at least not the bone and muscle deep ones that seemed to twist pain deep into me. Those had been replaced with superficial markings on my skin to pretend they were stili there. I rolled my shoulders, proving to myself that my flesh no longer pulled against a deep scar in my back. It was a good feeling, and I found myself grinning as I dragged our packed gear out of the tent and then dismantled the tent itself.