Fool’s Fate. Робин Хобб

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Название Fool’s Fate
Автор произведения Робин Хобб
Жанр Героическая фантастика
Серия
Издательство Героическая фантастика
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9780007370467



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      Peottre’s gaze moved worriedly from Chade’s face to the Prince’s. He seemed to sense he had mis-stepped. Then, ‘May I speak for a time with you?’ he asked.

      ‘Lord Blackwater, you are welcome to call upon me at any time,’ the Prince assured him reflexively.

      A very slight smile twitched Peottre’s face. ‘Well you know I am no “lord”, Prince Dutiful, but only a kaempra of the Narwhal Clan. And even as that, I stand in the Hetgurd assembly with no warriors at my back. They tolerate me more for the sake of my sister’s husband, Arkon Bloodblade, than for any respect toward me. Our clan has fallen on very hard times in every way except the richness of our motherlands and the honour of our bloodlines.’

      I privately wondered in what other ways a clan could experience hardship, but Peottre was still speaking. ‘I was not unprepared for what we heard from the Hetgurd this afternoon. In truth, ever since the Narcheska proposed her challenge, I have expected it. Arkon Bloodblade, too, saw that there were those who would be disgruntled by the test she has proposed. I wanted to tell you that we are not unprepared for this. We have made plans against it. The hospitality we offer, within this stronghouse, is but one safeguard we have put in place. We had hoped opposition would not be voiced so soon, nor by such a respected kaempra as the Eagle kaempra. It is our great good fortune that the Bear kaempra, who is allied with Boar, saw fit to dismiss the assembly so abruptly. Otherwise, discussion might have gone too far for us to mend it.’

      ‘You might have warned us of this opposition, Kaempra Peottre, before we faced the Hetgurd,’ Chade observed quietly, but the Prince cut through his words with, ‘So you think it can be mended? How?’

      I winced at his eagerness. Chade was right. The man deserved a rebuke for having led us into a trap, not an unquestioning acceptance of his aid in getting out of it.

      ‘It will take time, but not too long – days rather than months. Since we returned from your country, we have spent much in both wealth and influence to buy allies. I speak bluntly, of course, of what cannot be openly acknowledged. Those who have agreed to support us must not swing too quickly to our side, but must seem to be persuaded by the arguments that Clan Boar will present in our favour. So, I wish to counsel you both to patience and to wariness until the Hetgurd is swayed.’

      ‘Wariness?’ Chade queried sharply. Assassins? His unspoken fear reached me clearly.

      ‘This is not the right word,’ Peottre apologized. ‘Sometimes, it seems, what one language says in one word another has many for. I would ask you to be … not as seen. Not as visible. Not as easy to find or to speak to.’

      ‘Unavailable?’ the Prince suggested.

      Peottre smiled slightly and shrugged. ‘If that is how you would say it. We have a saying here, “It is difficult to insult the man you don’t speak to”. That is what I suggest. That the Farseer Buck Clan avoids giving offence by being … unavailable.’

      ‘While we trust Boar Clan to speak for us?’ Chade asked. He allowed a trace of scepticism into his voice. ‘And what are we to do in the meanwhile?’

      Peottre smiled. I was not in the best position to observe him, but I thought I had glimpsed a look of relief that we seemed inclined to accept his advice. ‘I would suggest that we remove you completely from Zylig. All expect that you will visit the mothershouse of the Narcheska. It was almost surprising to the Hetgurd that you came here first. So, I suggest that tomorrow you board the Boar vessel Tusker and sail with us to Wuislington, the motherlands of the Narwhal Clan. There, you shall be welcomed and provided for, just as you welcomed and provided for us at Buckkeep. I have reported to my mothershouse of your customs in this regard. They find them unusual, but will concede the fairness of feeding you as you fed us.’

      He could not conceal his hope as he offered this suggestion. His eagerness alarmed me. Did he shoo us away from danger, or lure us into it? I felt the same query cross Chade’s mind as he said, ‘But we have only arrived here today, and we are weary from the sea. The Prince’s man, Thick, does not fare well on the waves. He has taken ill and needs his rest. We cannot think of leaving tomorrow.’

      I knew that we could, and that he was considering the cost of it even now. He but said these words to Peottre to see what the man would reply. For a moment, I almost pitied the Outislander. He could not know that Chade and the Prince were sharing their thoughts, let alone that I stood around the corner not only hearing his every word but also supporting their observations with mine. I saw dismay blossom behind his eyes, and confirmed to both Dutiful and Chade that I believed his discomfort was genuine, even as he exclaimed, ‘But you must! Leave the man here with someone to tend to him. He will be safe in the Boar’s stronghouse. To do murder in a clan’s stronghouse is a terrible insult to their mothershouse and the Boar Clan is powerful. No one will consider it.’

      ‘But they might consider it if he ventured outside the stronghouse? Or if I went out tonight, seeking a meal perhaps?’ The velvet courtesy of Chade’s tone did not quite mask the razor edge of his question.

      From my concealment, I could see that Peottre regretted his hasty words. He considered lying and then boldly pushed that aside in favour of blunt truth. ‘You must have known it could come to this. You are not fools, either of you. I have seen you study men and balance the bargain you offer this one against what that one desires. I have seen you offer both honey and the spur to move others to your will. You would have come here knowing what Icefyre means to some of us. You would have anticipated this opposition.’

      I felt Chade caution Dutiful to silence as he spoke out severely on his behalf. ‘Opposition, yes. Even a muttering of war. A threat of murder to the Prince’s man, or the Prince himself, no. Dutiful is the sole heir to the Farseer crown. You are not a fool, either. You know what that means. We have extended him as far into danger as we will risk him in allowing him to embark on this ridiculous quest. Now you admit that murder may hang over him, simply because he seeks to keep his word to your sister-daughter. The stakes for this alliance have become too high, Peottre. I will not wager the Prince’s life for the sake of this betrothal. The Narcheska’s demand has never made sense to me. Give us one good reason why we should proceed.’

      The Prince was seething. His Skill-objections to Chade’s highhandedness drowned out my own thoughts. I thought I knew what Chade was doing, yet the only emotion I could experience was Dutiful’s affront that Chade would imply he would retreat from his word. Even Thick turned over with a heavy moan under the Prince’s Skill-onslaught.

      Peottre’s glance darted to the Prince. Even without the Skill, he could read a young man’s spirit. ‘Because Prince Dutiful had said he will do it. To back away from his word now and flee home would make him seem both cowardly and weak. It might stave off war, but it would invite raiding again. You know our saying, I am sure: “a coward owns nothing for long”.’

      In the Six Duchies we say, ‘Fear is the only thing that a man cannot take from a coward’. I supposed that it meant the same thing. That if our prince showed a cowardly nature, so all the Six Duchies would be judged, and the Outislanders would see us as ripe to be raided again.

      Silence! Glare all you wish, but still your tongue! Chade’s command to Dutiful was as strong a bit of Skilling as I had ever experienced from him. Even more astonishing was the private command he arrowed solely to me. Watch Peottre’s face, Fitz. I felt what it cost Chade in strength, yet he kept his voice steady as he said coolly, ‘Kaempra Narwhal, you mistake me. I did not say the Prince would go back on his word to set the dragon’s head before your Narcheska. He has given his word, and a Farseer does not go back on his word. But having done that deed, I see no need to waste my prince’s bloodline on a woman who would connive to send him into such danger, from her own people as well as from a dragon. He will do this, but we will feel no duty to wed him to the Narcheska afterward.’

      I had done as Chade bid me, but there was no reading the succession of expressions that flitted over Peottre’s visage. Astonishment, of course, followed by confoundment. I knew what Chade desired to discover. What did Peottre and the Narcheska seek most strongly: the death of the dragon or an alliance with the