Dutiful frowned at Chade. “Well, of course.”
When the old man knit his brows in irritation, I intervened. “It seems natural to me that they would, especially if their efforts do assist the Prince in his quest. To use them and then cast them aside afterward is not the sort of political wisdom you have taught me over the years.”
Chade was still scowling. “Well . . . I suppose . . . if they truly proved to be of any value, they would expect some compensation.”
The Prince spoke levelly, but I could sense him holding his temper. “And what would you expect them to ask in return if they were a Skill coterie aiding me?” He sounded so like Chade as he set his trap question that I almost laughed aloud.
Chade bristled. “But that would be entirely different. The Skill is your hereditary magic, as well as being vastly more powerful than the Wit. That you would bond with your Skill coterie and accept both counsel and companionship from them would be expected.” Then he stopped speaking abruptly.
Dutiful nodded slowly. “Old Blood is also my hereditary magic. And I suspect there is far more to it than we know. And, yes, Chade, I do feel a bond of both companionship and trust with those who share that magic. It is, as you said, to be expected.”
Chade opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again. After an instant, he opened his mouth, but again subsided. Irritation vied with admiration when he said quietly, “Very well. I follow your logic. I do not necessarily agree with the conclusion, but I follow it.”
“That is all I ask,” the Prince replied and in his words I heard the echo of the monarch he would be.
Chade turned his beetling gaze on me. “Why did you bring this up?” he asked me crossly, as if I had sought to precipitate a quarrel between them.
“Because I need to know what it is that Web seeks from me. I sense that he courts me, that he tries to draw me closer into his confidence. Why?”
There is no true silence on board a ship. Always there are the ongoing conversations between wood and water, canvas and wind. Those voices were the only ones in the cabin for a time. Then Dutiful gave a small snort. “Unlikely as you think it, Fitz, perhaps he only wishes to be your friend. I see nothing here for him to gain.”
“He holds a secret,” Chade said sourly. “There is always power in holding a secret.”
“And danger,” the Prince countered. “Revealing this secret is as dangerous to Web as it is to Fitz. Think what would follow if he revealed it. Would it not undermine my reign? Would not some of the nobles turn on my mother the Queen, angered that she had kept this secret from them and preserved Fitz's life?” In a lower voice he added, “Do not forget that in revealing to Fitz that he knew his identity, Web put himself at risk, also. This is a secret that some men would kill to preserve.”
I watched Chade sift it through his mind. “Truly, the threat is to your reign as much as to Fitz,” he conceded worriedly. “Right now, you are correct. It benefits Web most to keep the secret a secret. As long as your reign is amiable toward the Witted, they have no interest in deposing you. But if you ever turned against them? What then?”
“What then, indeed?” the Prince scoffed. “Chade, ask yourself as you have so often asked me, ‘What would happen next?' If my mother and I were overthrown, who would seize power? Why, those who had overthrown us. And they would be the enemy of the Witted, a harsher enemy than Old Blood has had to confront in my lifetime. No. I think Fitz's secret is safe. More, I think he should set aside his wariness and become Web's friend.”
I nodded, wondering why such an idea made me so uneasy.
“I still see little benefit in this Witted coterie,” Chade muttered.
“Do you not? Then why do you ask me each day what Web's bird has seen? Does it not ease your mind to know that all the ships she has shown Web have been honest merchant or fishing vessels? And think what tidings she gave us today. She has flown over the harbor and town of Zylig, and Web has looked down on it through the bird's eyes. She has seen no massing of folk as for battle or treachery. True, the city is swelled with people, but it seems to flaunt a festive air. Do you not take comfort in that?”
“I suppose. But it is a thin comfort, given that treachery is so easy to disguise.”
Thick rolled over muttering, and I made that my excuse to leave them. Not long after, Chade departed for his own cabin, the Prince went to his bed, and I made up my pallet beside Thick's bunk. I thought of Web and Risk, and tried to imagine seeing the ocean and the Out Islands through a bird's eyes. It would be a marvel and a wonder. Yet before my imagination could capture me completely, a wave of longing for Nighteyes swept over me. That night, I dreamed my own dreams, and they were of wolves hunting in the summer-seared hills.