"That would seem to fit most of the prophecies," Kettle agreed from her hearth corner. She was tying off the last row of knitting on a thick mitten. "If the plague of the mindless hunger is Forging, and your actions put a stop to that, that would fit another prophecy as well."

Kettle's knack of providing a prophecy for every occasion was beginning to grate on me. I took a breath, and then asked the Fool, "And what does Queen Kettricken say about your joining her party?"

"I haven't discussed it with her," he replied blithely. "I am not joining her, Fitz. I am following you." A sort of bemusement came over his face. "I have known since I was a child that together we should do this task. It had not occurred to me to question that I would go with you. I have been making preparations since the day you arrived here."

"As have I," Kettle observed quietly.

We both turned to stare at her. She feigned not to notice as she tried on the mitten and admired its fit.

"No." I spoke bluntly. Bad enough to look forward to dying pack animals. I was not going to witness the death of another friend. It was too obvious to voice that she was hopelessly too old for such a trek.

"I thought you might stay here, in my home," the Fool offered more gently. "There is plenty of firewood for the rest of the winter and some supplies of meal and-"

"I expect to die on the journey, if it's any comfort to you." She took off the mitten and set it with its mate. Casually she inspected what was left of her skein of wool. She began to cast on stitches, the yarn flowing effortlessly through her fingers. "And you needn't worry about me before then. I've made provision for myself. Done a bit of trading, and I have the food and such that I'll need." She glanced up at me from her needles, and added quietly, "I have the wherewithal to see this journey through to the end."

I had to admire her calm assumption that her life was still her own, to do with as she wished. I wondered when I had begun to think of her as a helpless old woman that someone would have to look after now. She looked back down to her knitting. Needlessly, for her fingers continued to work whether she watched them or not. "I see you understand me," she said quietly. And that was that.

I have never known any expedition to get off exactly as planned. Generally, the larger one is, the more difficulties it has. Ours was no exception. The morning before we were scheduled to depart, I was rudely shaken out of my sleep.

"Get up, Fitz, we have to leave now," Kettricken said tersely.

I sat up slowly. I was wide awake instantly, but my healing back still did not encourage me to move swiftly. The Fool was sitting on the edge of his bed, looking more anxious than I had ever seen him. "What is it?" I demanded.

"Regal." I had never heard so much venom in one word. Her face was very white and she knotted and unknotted her fists at her side. "He has sent a courier under a truce flag to my father, saying that we harbor a known traitor to the Six Duchies. He says that if we release you to him, he will see it as a sign of good faith with the Six Duchies and will not consider us an enemy. But if we do not, he will loose the troops he has poised on our borders, for he will know that we plot with his enemies against him," She paused. "My father is considering what to do."

"Kettricken, I am but the excuse," I protested. My heart was hammering in my chest. Nighteyes whined anxiously. "You must know it has taken him months to mass those troops. They are not there because I am here. They are in place because he plans to move against the Mountain Kingdom no matter what. You know Regal. It is all a bluff to see if he can get you to turn me over to him. Once you do, he will find some other pretext to attack."

"I am not a simpleton," she said coldly. "Our watchers have known of the troops for weeks. We have been doing what we can to prepare ourselves. Always our mountains have been our strongest defense. But never before have we confronted an organized foe in such numbers. My father is Sacrifice, Fitz. He must do whatever will best serve the Mountain Kingdom. So now he must ponder if by turning you over, he will have a chance to treat with Regal. Do not think my father is stupid enough to trust him. But the longer he can delay an attack against his people, the better prepared they will be."

"It sounds as if there is little left to decide," I said bitterly.

"There was no reason for my father to make me privy to the courier's message," Kettricken observed. "The decision is his." Her eyes met mine squarely, and held a shadow of our old friendship. "I think perhaps he offers me a chance to spirit you away. Before I would be defying his orders to turn you over to Regal.

Perhaps he thinks to tell Regal you have escaped but he intends to track you down."

Behind Kettricken, the Fool was pulling on leggings under his nightshirt.

"It will be harder than I had planned," Kettricken confided in me. "I cannot involve any other Mountain folk in this. It will have to be you, me, and Starling. Alone. And we must leave now, within the hour."

"I'll be ready," I promised her.

"Meet me behind Joss's woodshed," she said, and left.

I looked at the Fool. "So. Do we tell Kettle?"

"Why are you asking me?" he demanded.

I gave a small shrug. Then I got up and began dressing hastily. I thought of all the small ways in which I was not prepared and then gave it up as useless. In a very short time, the Fool and I shouldered our packs. Nighteyes rose, stretched thoroughly, and went to the door to precede us. I shall miss the fireplace. But the hunting will be better. He accepted all so calmly.

The Fool took a careful look around the hut, and then closed the door behind us. "That's the first place I've ever lived that was solely mine," he observed as we walked away from it.

"You leave so much behind to do this," I said awkwardly, thinking of his tools, his half-finished puppets, even the plants growing inside by the window. Despite myself, I felt responsible for it. Perhaps it was because I was so glad that I was not going on alone.

He glanced over at me and shrugged. "I take myself with me. That's all I truly need, or own." He glanced back at the door he had painted himself. "Jofron will take good care of it. And of Kettle, too."

I wondered if he left behind more than I knew.

We were nearly to the woodshed when I saw some children racing down the path toward us. "There he is!" one cried, pointing. I shot a startled glance at the Fool, then braced myself, wondering what was to come. How could one defend oneself against children? At a loss, I awaited the attack. But the wolf did not wait. He sank low to his belly in the snow, even his tail flat. As the children closed the distance, he suddenly shot forward straight at the leader. "NO!" I cried aloud in horror, but none of them paid me any heed. The wolf's front paws struck the boy's chest, to drive him down hard in the snow. In a flash Nighteyes was up and after the others, who fled, shrieking with laughter as one after another he caught up with them and mowed them down. By the time he'd felled the last one, the first boy was up and after him, vainly trying to keep up with the wolf and making wild grabs at his tail as Nighteyes flashed by him, tongue lolling.

He felled them all again, twice more, before he halted in one of his racing loops. He watched the children getting to their feet, then glanced over his shoulder at me. He folded his ears down abashedly, then looked back to the children, his tail wagging low. One girl was already digging a chunk of fatbread out of her pocket while another teased him with a strip of leather, snaking it over the snow and trying to get him involved in a tug-of-war. I feigned not to notice.

I'll catch up with you later, he offered.