I drew a deep breath. 'No. I won't believe it and I won't accept it.' A thought came to me and I tried to speak it jokingly, but it came out as a threat. 'Remember what I am to you, White Prophet. I'm the Catalyst. I am Changer. And I can change things, even the things that you think are fixed.'
Halfway through my jest, I saw emotion transform his face. I would have halted my words, but once begun, they seemed to proceed of their own accord. The expression on his face was so stark, it was as if I stared at his bared skull-bones. 'What are you saying?' he demanded in a horrified whisper.
I looked away from him. I had to. 'Only what you've been telling me for most of our lives. You may be the Prophet and foretell things. But I'm the Catalyst. I change things. Perhaps even what you've foretold.'
'Fitz- Please.'
The words drew my gaze back to him. 'What?'
He was breathing through his mouth as if he'd run a race and lost. 'Don't do this,' he begged me. 'Don't try to stop me from doing what I must do. I thought I'd made you understand it, back there on the beach. I could have run away from this. I could have stayed in Buckkeep, or gone back to Bingtown, or even gone home. Or back to where home once was. But I didn't. I'm here. I'm facing it. I'm afraid and I don't deny that. And I know this will be hard for you. But it is what I've been aimed toward, all these years. You understand duty to family and king. You understand it all too well. Please see that this, now, is my duty to what I am. If you set out to defeat me, simply for the sake of keeping me alive, you will render all my life meaningless. All we have gone through up to now will be for nothing. You'll be condemning me to live out my years knowing that I failed. Would you do that to me?'
He gave me a piteous look. I gave him a few moments to calm before I spoke quietly. 'So. You are saying, if I see something killing you, I'm to let it happen? Even if I can prevent it?'
Suddenly he seemed confused. 'I suppose so . . .'
'What if it's the wrong thing? What if 1 see a bear killing you, and you're supposed to die in an avalanche? And I do nothing, so you die in the wrong way, and it's still all for nothing.'
He looked at me blankly for a moment. 'But that. . . No. I think you'll know. When the time comes, I think you'll know what -'
'And if I don't? If I make a mistake, what then?'
'I don't . . .' He faltered to a halt.
I pounced. 'Do you see how stupid this is? I cannot possibly stand by and watch you die, Fool. I know that and you know that. You'd be asking me to be profoundly different from who I am. You'd be making the change, not me. And didn't you once tell me that precipitating the change was my task, not yours? So don't ask it of me. If fate demands that you be dead, well, then I'll probably be dead, too. At that point, I doubt if it will matter much to either of us.' I stood abruptly. 'And that's the last that we're saying about this. This is a discussion that 1 choose not to have. It's late, and I'm tired. I'm going to bed.'
The change that came over his face shocked me. I saw naked relief in his eyes. I think then I understood just how much he truly
feared what he felt he had to face. That he had not revealed it to anyone was as great a show of courage as I have ever known. As I lifted the tent flap, he spoke again. 'Fitz. I've really missed you. Don't go. Sleep here tonight. Please.' So I did.
SIXTEEN
Elfbark
Elfbark, more accurately called delventree bark, is a potent stimulant with the unfortunate additional effect of making the user prey to feelings of despondency and fearfulness. For this reason, it is often used by slave-owners in Chalced to increase the hours that a slave can work while at the same time dampening his spirit. Taken steadily over a long period it is addictive, and some say that even taken sporadically the herb can permanently alter a man's temperament, making him suspicious and defensive even with his closest companions, while eroding his sense of self-worth. Yet even with all these disadvantages, there are times when the risks are worth it for the stamina it may confer in times of necessity. It is less volatile a drug than either carris seed or cindin, in that those two may lead to wild surges of emotion and false euphoria that may prompt actions both foolish and dangerous.
The best quality of elfbark is obtained from the new branch tips of very old trees. Incise laterally along the twig and then around it at each end of the cut. Slip a fingernail or knife point under the bark edge and carefully loosen it from the branch. The freed bark will immediately curl into a cylinder. Store it thus in a pouch in a cool dry place until the bark has dried enough to be grated into a powder which can be infused as a tea.
If the need is immediate, a tea can be made from the freshly harvested bark, but it is far more difficult to judge the strength of the herb's potency from the colour of that tea.
Raichal's Table of Herbs
I emerged from the Fool's tent very early, before the rest of the camp was astir. I had slept poorly, besieged by formless nightmares.
Towards dawn, I lay awake and wished that I possessed Nettle's skill for mastering such uneasy dreams. That put me in mind of her. I wished to speak with Chade and Dutiful privately, without even Thick listening in. I walked to the edge of our camp area to relieve myself. Deft was on guard duty, and gave me a passing nod. I went directly to the Prince's tent, walking softly. I had forgotten that I had assigned Swift guard duty there. The boy was watchful as a fox, for as I drew close, the tent flap lifted slightly, baring not only his vigilant eyes but also the point of an arrow set in his bow.
'It's me,' I said hastily, and was relieved when he eased the bow and lowered the quarrel. I cudgelled my brain for an errand to send him on, and then fell back on suggesting he fetch some clean snow to melt for wash water for the Prince, reminding him not to venture beyond the flagged boundaries of the camp.
As soon as he trudged off, bucket in hand, I slipped inside the dim tent. 'Are you awake/' I asked quietly.
Dutiful sighed heavily. 'I am now. I feel as if I've been awake for most of the night. Lord Chade V
A muffled grunt was his only reply. Chade had the blankets pulled up over his head.
'This is important, and I have to talk fast, before Swift comes back.' I warned them.
Chade lifted the covers a small crack. 'Talk, then.' He yawned tremendously. 'I am too old for this camping out in the snow after hiking all day,' he muttered venomously, as if it were all my fault.
'I talked with the Fool last night, after he and Civil fought.1
'Ah, yes. And we spoke with Civil. Or Civil spoke at us. For quite a long time. I had had no idea that your charade at Galekeep had been so convincing. Civil is quite distressed that we allow Swift to spend time with Lord Golden.' Chade replied grumpily.
Dutiful snickered when I scowled. 'The truth is that Civil would rather believe that than the truth. The Fool charted it out for me. He thinks that Sydel's parents, or at least one of them, were the traitors who sold Dutiful to the Piebalds. I suspect that her father is the one that broke the engagement between them, and that perhaps he did so more because Civil had opposed the Piebalds than because Sydel had behaved foolishly.'
I was rewarded by Chade poking his nose out of his blankets. I watched him ponder, turning the pieces to see if they fit. After a moment, he said almost grudgingly, 'Yes. He could be right. Sydel's parents would have been well-positioned for all that was done. Would that I had an extra message-bird, to send these tidings to the Queen! But I have just the one for Buckkeep, and one for the Hetgurd, to bring them back to fetch us. There are no birds to spare.'