I hurried down the hall to her door. I tapped cautiously, half expecting her shrill voice to tell me to go away and stop bothering her. Instead, a quavering voice called out, "Oh, Fitz, is that finally you? Hurry in, boy. I need you.

I took a deep breath and lifted the latch. I went into the semidarkness of the stuffy room, holding my breath against the various smells that assaulted my nostrils. Death stench could hardly be worse than this, I thought to myself.

Heavy hangings draped the bed. The only light in the room came from a single candle guttering in its holder. I picked it up and ventured closer to the bed. "Lady Thyme?" I asked softly. "What's wrong?"

"Boy." The voice came quietly from a dark corner of the room.

"Chade," I said, and instantly felt more foolish than I care to remember.

"There's no time to explain all the reasons. Don't feel bad, boy. Lady Thyme has fooled many folk in her time, and will continue to. At least I hope so. Now. Trust me and don't ask questions. Just do what I tell you. First, go to the innkeeper. Tell her that Lady Thyme has had one of her attacks and must rest quietly for a few days. Tell her on no account to disturb her. Her great-granddaughter will be coming in to care for her—"

"Who—"

"It's been arranged already. And her great-granddaughter will be bringing in food for her and everything else she needs. Just emphasize that Lady Thyme needs quiet and to be left alone. Go and do that now."

And I did, and I appeared jolted enough that I was very convincing. The innkeeper promised me that she would let no one so much as tap on a door, for she would be most reluctant to lose Lady Thyme's good opinion of her inn and her trade. By which I surmised that Lady Thyme paid her generously indeed.

I reentered the room quietly, shutting the door softly behind me. Chade shot the bolt and kindled a fresh candle from the glimmering stump. He spread a small map on the table beside it. I noticed he was dressed for traveling-cloak, boots, jerkin, and trousers all of black. He looked a different man, suddenly, very fit and energetic. I wondered if the old man in the worn robe was also a pose. He glanced up at me, and for a moment I would have sworn it was Verity the soldier I was facing. He gave me no time to muse.

"Things will have to go here however they will go between Verity and Kelvar. You and I have business elsewhere. I received a message tonight. Red-Ship Raiders have struck, here, at Forge. So close to Buckkeep that it's more than just an insult; it's a real threat. And done while Verity is at Neatbay. Don't tell me they didn't know he was here, away from Buckkeep. But that's not all. They've taken hostages, dragged them back to their ships. And they've sent words to Buckkeep, to King Shrewd himself.

They're demanding gold, lots of it, or they'll return the hostages to the village."

"Don't you mean they'll kill them if they don't get the gold?"

"No." Chade shook his head angrily, a bear bothered by bees. "No, the message was quite clear. If the gold is paid, they'll kill them. If not, they'll release them. The messenger was from Forge, a man whose wife and son had been taken. He insisted he had the threat correct."

"I don't see that we have a problem," I snorted.

"On the surface, neither do I. But the man who carried the message to Shrewd was still shaking, despite his long ride. He couldn't explain it, not even say if he thought the gold should be paid or not. All he could do was repeat, over and over, how the ship's captain had smiled as he delivered the ultimatum, and how the other raiders had laughed and laughed at his words.

"So, we go to see, you and I. Now. Before the King makes any official response, before Verity even knows. Now attend. This is the road we came by. See how it follows the curve of the coast? And this is the trail we go by. Straighter, but much steeper and boggy in places, so that it has never been used by wagons. But faster for men on horseback. Here, a small boat awaits us; crossing the bay will cut a lot of miles and time from our journey. We'll beach here, and then on up to Forge."

I studied the map. Forge was north of Buckkeep; I wondered how long our messenger had taken to reach us, and if by the time we got there the Red-Ship Raiders' threat would have already been carried out. But it was no use wasting time on wondering.

"What about a horse for you?"

"That's been arranged. By the one who brought this message. There's a bay outside with three white feet. He's for me. The messenger will also provide a great-granddaughter for Lady Thyme, and the boat is waiting. Let's go.

"One thing," I said, and ignored his scowl at the delay.

"I have to ask this, Chade. Were you here because you didn't trust me?"

"A fair question, I suppose. No. I was here to listen in the town, to women's talk, as you were to listen in the keep. Bonnet makers and button sellers may know more than a high king's adviser, without even knowing they know it. Now. Do we ride?"

We did. We left by the side entrance, and the bay was tethered right outside. Sooty didn't much care for him, but she minded her manners. I sensed Chade's impatience, but he kept the horses to an easy pace until we had left the cobbled streets of Neatbay behind us. Once the lights of the houses were behind us, we put our horses to an easy canter. Chade led, and I wondered at how well he rode, and how effortlessly he selected paths in the dark. Sooty did not like this swift traveling by night. If it had not been for a moon nearly at the full, I don't think I could have persuaded her to keep up with the bay.

I will never forget that night ride. Not because it was a wild gallop to the rescue, but because it was not. Chade guided us and used the horses as if they were game pieces on a board. He did not play swiftly, but to win. And so there were times when we walked the horses to breathe them, and places on the trail where we dismounted and led them to get them safely past treacherous places.

As morning grayed the sky we stopped to eat provisions from Chade's saddlebags. We were on a hilltop so thickly treed that the sky was barely glimpsed overhead. I could hear the ocean, and smell it, but could catch no sight of it. Our trail had become a sinuous path, little more than a deer run, through these woods. Now that we were still, I could hear and smell the life all around us. Birds called, and I heard the movement of small animals in the underbrush and in the branches overhead. Chade had stretched, then sank down to sit on deep moss with his back against a tree. He drank deeply from a water skin and then more briefly from a brandy flask. He looked tired, and the daylight exposed his age more cruelly than lamplight ever had. I wondered if he would last through the ride or collapse.

"I'll be fine," he said when he caught me watching him. "I've had to do more arduous duty than this, and on less sleep. Besides, we'll have a good five or six hours of rest on the boat, if the crossing is smooth. So there's no need to be longing after sleep. Let's go, boy."

About two hours later our path diverged, and again we took the more obscure branching. Before long I was all but lying on Sooty's neck to escape the low sweeps of the branches. It was muggy under the trees and we were blessed with multitudes of tiny stinging flies that tortured the horses and crept into my clothes to find flesh to feast on. So thick were they that when I finally mustered the courage to ask Chade if we had gone astray, I near choked on the ones that rushed into my mouth.

By midday we emerged onto a windswept hillside that was more open. Once more I saw the ocean. The wind cooled the sweating horses and swept the insects away. It was a great pleasure simply to sit upright in the saddle again. The trail was wide enough that I could ride abreast of Chade. The livid spots stood out starkly against his pale skin; he looked more bloodless than the Fool. Dark circles underscored his eyes. He caught me watching him and frowned.