I ignored her. I dragged the blanket down from the Fool’s face and touched his cheek. His eyes opened slowly. “You’re warm,” I told him. “Are you all right?”
“I don’t feel warm,” he informed me miserably. “I feel cold. And very, very tired.”
I began building up the fire in the brazier hastily. Around me the others were stirring. Starling across the tent had sat up and was peering at me through the gloom.
“The Fool is never warm,” I told them, trying to make them understand my urgency. “Always, when you touch his skin, it is cool. Now he’s warm.”
“Indeed?” Starling asked in an oddly sarcastic voice.
“Is he ill?” Kettle asked tiredly.
“I don’t know. I’ve never known him to be ill in my whole life.”
“I am seldom ill,” the Fool corrected me quietly. “But this is a fever I have known before. Lie down and sleep, Fitz. I’ll be all right. I expect the fever will have burned out by morning.”
“Whether it has or not, we must travel tomorrow morning,” Kettricken said implacably. “We have already lost a day lingering here.”
“Lost a day?” I exclaimed, almost angrily. “Gained a map, or more detail for one, and knowledge that Verity had been to the city. For myself, I doubt not that he went there as I did, and perhaps returned to this very spot. We have not lost a day, Kettricken, but gained all the days it would have taken us to find a way down to what remains of the road down there and then tramp to the city. And back again. As I recall, you had proposed spending a day just to seek for a way down that slide. Well, we did, and we found the way.” I paused. I took a breath and imposed calm on my voice. “I will not seek to force any of you to my will. But if the Fool is not well enough to travel tomorrow, I shall not travel either.”
A glint came into Kettricken’s eyes, and I braced myself for battle. But the Fool forestalled it. “I shall travel tomorrow, well or not,” he assured us both.
“That’s settled, then,” Kettricken said swiftly. Then, in a more humane voice she asked, “Fool, is there anything I can do for you? I would not use you so harshly, were not the need so great. I have not forgotten, and never shall, that without you I would never have reached Jhaampe alive.”
I sensed a story I was not privy to, but kept my questions to myself.
“I will be fine. I am just . . . Fitz? Could I beg some elfbark of you? That warmed me last night as nothing else has.”
“Certainly.” I was rummaging in my pack for it when Kettle spoke out warningly.
“Fool, I counsel you against it. It is a dangerous herb, and almost often more damaging than good. Who knows but you are ill tonight because you had some night before last?”
“It is not that potent an herb,” I said disdainfully. “I’ve used it for a number of years, and taken no lasting ill from it.”
Kettle gave a snort. “None that you are wise enough to see, anyway,” she said sarcastically. “But it is a warming herb that gives energy to the flesh, even if it is deadening to the spirit.”
“I always found it restored me rather than deadened me,” I countered as I found the small packet and opened it. Without my asking her, Kettle got up to put water on to boil. “I never noticed it dulling my mind,” I added.
“The one taking it seldom does,” she retorted. “And while it may boost your physical energy for a time, you must always pay for it later. Your body is not to be tricked, young man. You will know that better when you are as old as I.”
I fell silent. As I thought back over the times I had used elfbark to restore myself, I had the uncomfortable suspicion that she was at least partly right. But my suspicion was not enough to keep me from brewing two cups rather than just one. Kettle shook her head at me, but lay back down and said no more. I sat beside the Fool as we drank our tea. When he handed me back the empty mug, his hand seemed warmer, not cooler.
“Your fever is rising,” I warned him.
“No. It is just the heat of the mug on my skin,” he suggested.
I ignored him. “You are shaking all over.”
“A bit,” he admitted. Then his misery broke though and he said, “I am cold as I have never been before. My back and my jaws ache from shaking with it.”
Flank him, suggested Nighteyes. The big wolf shifted to press more closely against him. I added my blankets to those covering the Fool and then crawled in beside him. He said not a word but his shivering lessened somewhat.
“I can’t recall that you were ever ill at Buckkeep,” I said quietly.
“I was. But very seldom, and I kept to myself. As you recall, the healer had little tolerance for me, and I for him. I would not have trusted my health to his purges and tonics. Beside. What works for your kind sometimes does nothing for mine.”
“Is your kind so vastly different from mine?” I asked after a time. He had brought us close to a topic we had seldom even mentioned.
“In some ways,” lie sighed. He lifted a hand to his brow. “But sometimes I surprise even myself.” He took a breath, then sighed it out as if he had endured some pain for an instant. “I may not even be truly ill. I have been going through some changes in the past year. As you have noticed.” He added the last in a whisper.
“You have grown, and gathered color,” I agreed softly.
“That is a part of it.” A smile twitched over his face, then faded. “I think I am almost an adult now.”
I snorted softly. “I have counted you as a man for many years, Fool. I think you found your manhood before I did mine.”
“Did I? How droll!” he exclaimed softly, and for a moment sounded almost like himself. His eyes sagged shut. “I am going to sleep now,” he told me.
I made no reply. I shouldered deeper into the blankets beside him and set my walls once more. I sank into a dreamless rest that was not cautionless sleep.
I awoke before first light with a foreboding of danger. Beside me, the Fool slept heavily. I touched his face, and found it warm still and misted with sweat. I rolled away from him, tucking the blankets in tight around him. I added a twig or two of precious fuel to the brazier and began drawing my clothes on quietly. Nighteyes was immediately alert.
Going out?
Just to sniff about.
Shall I come?
Keep the Fool warm. I won’t be long.
Are you sure you’ll be all right?
I’ll be very careful. I promise.
The cold was like a slap. The darkness, absolute. After a moment or two, my eyes adjusted but even so I could see little more than the tent itself. An overcast had blotted the stars even. I stood still in the icy wind, straining my senses to find what had disturbed me. It was not the Skill but my Wit that quested out into the darkness for me. I sensed our party, and the hunger of the huddled jeppas. Grain alone would not keep them long. Another worry. Resolutely I set it aside and pushed my senses further. I stiffened. Horses? Yes. And riders? I thought so. Nighteyes was suddenly beside me.
Can you scent them?
The wind is wrong. Shall I go see?
Yes. But be unseen.
Of course. See to the Fool. He whimpered when I left him.
In the tent, I quietly woke Kettricken. “I think there may be danger,” I told her softly. “Horses and riders, possibly on the road behind us. I’m not certain yet.”
“By the time we are certain, they will be here,” she said dourly. “Wake everyone. I want us up and ready to move by light.”
“The Fool is still feverish,” I said, even as I stooped and shook Starling’s shoulder.
“If he stays here, he won’t be feverish, he’ll be dead. And you with him. Has the wolf gone to spy for us?”