The Wise Man's Fear (171 page)

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Authors: Patrick Rothfuss

Tags: #Mercenary troops, #Magicians, #Magic, #Attempted assassination, #Fairies, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Heroes, #Epic

BOOK: The Wise Man's Fear
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Alveron looked to Meluan, but she shook her head firmly.“I will not have this spoken of to strangers.”
The Maer seemed disappointed by this answer, but didn’t press the point. Instead he turned back to me. “Let me ask you your own questions back again. What sort of wood is it?”
“It’s lasted three thousand years,” I mused aloud. “It’s heavy despite being hollow. So it has to be a slow wood, like hornbeam or rennel. Its color and weight make me think it has a good deal of metal in it too, like roah. Probably iron and copper.” I shrugged. “That’s the best I can do.”
“What’s inside it?”
I thought for a long moment before saying anything. “Something smaller than a saltbox. . . .” I began. Meluan smiled, but Alveron gave the barest of frowns so I hurried on. “Something metal, by the way the weight shifts when I tilt it.” I closed my eyes and listened to the padded thump of its contents moving in the box. “No. By the weight of it, perhaps something made of glass or stone.”
“Something precious,” Alveron said.
I opened my eyes. “Not necessarily. It has
become
precious because it is old, and because it has been with a family for so long. It is also precious because it is a mystery. But was it precious to begin with?” I shrugged. “Who can say?”
“But you lock up precious things,” Alveron pointed out.
“Precisely.” I held up the box, displaying its smooth face. “This isn’t locked up. In fact, it might be locked away. It may be something dangerous.”
“Why would you say that?” Alveron asked curiously.
“Why go through this trouble?” Meluan protested. “Why save something dangerous? If something is dangerous, you destroy it.” She seemed to answer her own question as soon as she had voiced it. “Unless it was precious as well as dangerous.”
“Perhaps it was too useful to destroy,” Alveron suggested.
“Perhaps it couldn’t be destroyed,” I said.
“Last and best,” Alveron said, leaning forward even further in his seat. “How do you open it?”
I gave the box a long look, turned it in my hands, pressed the sides. I ran my fingers over the patterns, feeling for a seam my eyes could not detect. I shook it gently, tasted the air around it, held it to the light.
“I have no idea,” I admitted.
Alveron slumped a little. “It was too much to expect, I suppose. Perhaps some piece of magic?”
I hesitated to tell him that sort of magic only existed in stories. “None I have at my command.”
“Have you ever considered simply cutting it open?” Alveron asked his wife.
Meluan looked every bit as horrified as I felt at the suggestion. “Never!” She said as soon as she caught her breath. “It is the very root of our family. I would sooner think of salting every acre of our lands.”
“And hard as this wood is,” I hurried to say, “you would most likely ruin whatever was inside. Especially if it is delicate.”
“It was only a thought.” Alveron reassured his wife.
“An ill-considered one,” Meluan said sharply, then seemed to regret her words. “I’m sorry, but the very thought ...” She trailed off, obviously distraught.
He patted her hand. “I understand, my dear. You’re right, it was ill-considered.”
“Might I put it away now?” Meluan asked him.
I reluctantly handed the box back to Meluan. “If there were a lock I could attempt to circumvent it, but I can’t even make a guess at where the hinge might be, or the seam for the lid.”
In a box, no lid or locks/ Lackless keeps her husband’s rocks
. The child’s skipping rhyme ran madly through my head and I only barely managed to turn my laugh into a cough.
Alveron didn’t seem to notice. “As always, I trust to your discretion.” He got to his feet. “Unfortunately, I fear I have used up the better portion of our time. I’m certain you have other matters to attend to. Shall we meet tomorrow to discuss the Amyr? Second bell?”
I had risen to my feet with the Maer. “If it please your grace, I have another matter that warrants some discussion.”
He gave me a serious look. “I trust this is an important matter.”
“Most urgent, your grace,” I said nervously. “It should not wait another day. I would have mentioned it sooner, had we both privacy and time.”
“Very well,” he sat back down. “What presses you so direly?”
“Lerand,” Meluan said with slight reproach. “It is past the hour. Hayanis will be waiting.”
“Let him wait,” he said. “Kvothe has served me well in all regards. He does nothing lightly, and I ignore him only to my detriment.”
“You flatter me, your grace. This matter is a grave one.” I glanced at Meluan. “And somewhat delicate as well. If your lady desires to leave, it might be for the best.”
“If the matter is important, should I not stay?” she asked archly.
I gave the Maer a questioning look.
“Anything you wish to say to me you can tell my lady wife,” he said.
I hesitated. I needed to tell Alveron about the false troupers soon. I was sure if he heard my version of events first, I could present them in a way that cast me in a favorable light. If word came through official channels first he might not be willing to overlook the bald facts of the situation, that I had slaughtered nine travelers of my own free will.
Despite that, the last thing I wanted was Meluan present for the conversation. It couldn’t help but complicate the situation. I tried one final time. “It is a matter most dark, your grace.”
Alveron shook his head, frowning slightly. “We have no secrets.”
I fought down a resigned sigh and drew a thick piece of folded parchment from an inner pocket of my shaed. “Is this one of the writs of patronage your grace has granted?”
His grey eyes flickered over it, showing some surprise. “Yes. How did you come by it?”
“Oh, Lerand,” Meluan said. “I knew you let the beggars travel in your lands, but I never thought you would stoop to patronizing them as well.”
“Only a handful of troupes,” he said. “As befitting my rank. Every respectable household has at least a few players.”
“Mine,” Meluan said firmly, “does not.”
“It is convenient to have one’s own troupe,” Alveron said gently. “And more convenient to have several. Then one can choose the proper entertainment to accompany whatever event you might be hosting. Where do you think the musicians at our wedding came from?”
When Meluan’s expression did not soften, Alveron continued. “They’re not permitted to perform anything bawdy or heathen, dear. I keep them under most close controlment. And rest assured, no town in my lands would let a troupe perform unless they had a noble’s writ with them.”
Alveron turned back to me. “Which brings us back to the matter at hand. How did you come to have their writ? The troupe must be doing poorly without it.”
I hesitated. With Meluan here, I was unsure as to the best way to approach the subject. I’d planned on speaking to the Maer alone. “They are, your grace. They were killed.”
The Maer showed no surprise. “I thought as much. Such things are unfortunate, but they happen from time to time.”
Meluan’s eyes flashed. “I’d give a great deal to see them happen more often.”
“Have you any idea who killed them?” the Maer asked.
“In a certain manner of speaking, your grace.”
He raised his eyebrows expectantly. “Well then?”
“I did.”
“You did what?”
I sighed. “I killed the men carrying that writ, your grace.”
He stiffened in his seat. “What?”
“They had kidnapped a pair of girls from a town they passed through.” I paused, looking for a delicate way of saying it in front of Meluan. “They were young girls, your grace, and the men were not kind to them.”
Meluan’s expression, already hard, grew cold as ice at this. But before she could speak, Alveron demanded incredulously, “And you took it on yourself to kill them? An entire troupe of performers I had given license to?” He rubbed his forehead. “How many were there?”
“Nine.”
“Good lord . . .”
“I think he did right,” Meluan said hotly. “I say you give him a score of guards and let him do the same to every ravel band of Ruh he finds within your lands.”
“My dear,” Alveron said with a touch of sternness. “I don’t care for them much more than you, but law is law. When . . .”
“Law is what
you
make it,” she interjected. “This man has done you a noble service. You should grant him fief and title and set him on your council.”
“He killed nine of my subjects,” Alveron pointed out sternly. “When men step outside the rule of law, anarchy results. If I heard of this in passing, I would hang him for a bandit.”
“He killed nine Ruh rapists. Nine murdering ravel thieves. Nine fewer Edema men in the world is a service to us all.” Meluan looked at me. “Sir. I think you did nothing but what was right and proper.”
Her misdirected praise did nothing but fan the fire beneath my temper. “Not all of them were men, my lady,” I said to her.
Meluan paled a bit at that remark.
Alveron rubbed his face with a hand. “Good lord, man. Your honesty is like a felling axe.”
“And I should mention,” I said seriously, “begging both your pardons, that those I killed were not Edema Ruh. They were not even a real troupe.”
Alveron shook his head tiredly and tapped the writ in front of him. “It says here otherwise. Edema Ruh and troupers both.”
“The writ was stolen goods, your grace. The folk I met on the road had killed a troupe of Ruh and taken up their place.”
He gave me a curious look. “You seem rather certain of it.”
“One of them told me so, your grace. He admitted they were merely impersonating a troupe. They were pretending to be Ruh.”
Meluan looked as if she couldn’t decide whether she was confused or sickened by the thought. “Who would pretend such a thing?”
Alveron nodded. “My wife makes a point,” he said. “It seems more likely that they lied to you. Who wouldn’t deny such a thing? Who would willingly admit to being one of the Edema Ruh?”
I felt myself flush hot at this, suddenly ashamed that I had concealed my Edema Ruh blood for all this time. “I don’t doubt your original troupe were Edema Ruh, your grace. But the men I killed were not. No Ruh would do the things they did.”
Meluan’s eyes flashed furiously. “You do not know them.”
I met her eyes. “My lady, I think I know them rather well.”
“But why?” Alveron asked. “Who in their right mind would try to pass themselves off as Edema Ruh?”
“For ease of travel,” I said. “And the protection your name offers.”
He shrugged my explanation away. “They were probably Ruh that tired of honest work and took up thieving instead.”
“No, your grace,” I insisted. “They were not Edema Ruh.”
Alveron gave me a reproachful look. “Come now. Who can tell the difference between bandits and a band of Ruh?”
“There is no difference,” Meluan said crisply.
“Your grace, I would know the difference,” I said hotly. “
I
am Edema Ruh.”
Silence. Meluan’s expression turned from blank shock, to disbelief, to rage, to disgust. She came to her feet, looked for a moment as if she would spit on me, then walked stiffly out the door. There was a clatter as her personal guard came to attention and followed her out of the outer rooms.
Alveron continued to look at me, his face severe. “If this is a joke, it is a poor one.”
“It is none, your grace,” I said, wrestling with my temper.
“And why have you found it necessary to hide this from me?”
“I have not hidden it, your grace. You yourself have mentioned several times that I am far from gentle birth.”
He struck the arm of his chair angrily. “You know what I mean! Why did you never mention that you are one of the Ruh?”
“I think the reason rather obvious, your grace,” I said stiffly, trying to keep from spitting out the words. “The words ‘Edema Ruh’ have too strong a smell for many gentle noses.Your wife has found her perfume cannot cover it.”
“My lady has had unfortunate dealings with the Ruh in the past,” he said by way of explanation. “You would do well to note.”
“I know of her sister. Her family’s tragic shame. Run off and love a trouper. How terrible,” I said scathingly, my entire body prickling with hot rage. “Her sister’s sense does credit to her family; less so the actions of your lady wife. My blood is worth as much as any man’s, and more than most. And even were it not, she has no leave to treat me as she did.”
Alveron’s expression hardened. “I rather think that she has leave to treat you as she will,” he said. “She was simply startled by your sudden proclamation. Given her feelings about you ravel, I think she showed remarkable restraint.”

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