Golden Fool by Hobb Robin Page A

Thick. Use him, or render him useless. There is no middle path.” He held one hand out toward me, palm up, and added, “As we have seen with the Piebalds.”
    I do not know if he intended it as a rebuke to me, but his words stung nonetheless. I leaned back in my chair and let the wet cloth fall over my eyes.
    “What would you have had me do? Kill them all, not just the Piebalds who lured the Prince away but also the Old Blood elders who came to our aid? And then the Queen’s own Huntswoman? And then the Bresinga family? And Sydel, young Civil Bresinga’s intended, and—”
    “I know, I know,” he cut me off as I pointed out the widening circle of assassinations that still would not have completely protected our secret. “And yet, there we are. They have shown us they are swift and competent. You have scarcely been back at Buckkeep for two days, and yet they were watching and ready for you. Am I correct in saying that last night was the first time you had ventured into town?” At my nod he continued. “And they immediately located you. And made very sure that you knew they were aware of you. A deliberate gambit.” He took a deep breath and I saw him turning it over in his mind, trying to see what message they had intended to convey. “They know the Prince is Witted. They know you are Witted. They can destroy either of you whenever they please.”
    “We already knew that. I think this was intended in a different way.” I took a breath, put my thoughts in order, and gave him a skeletal account of my encounter. “I see this in a new light now. They wanted me to be frightened, and to think what I could do to be safe from them. I can either be a threat to them, one they would eliminate, or I can be useful to them.” That wasn’t exactly how I had seen it earlier, but the implications now seemed obvious. They had frightened me, and then let me go, to give me time to realize I could not possibly kill them all. Impossible to know how many now shared my secret. The only way I could survive was to become useful to them. What would they ask of me? “Perhaps as a spy within Buckkeep Castle. Or as a weapon within the keep, someone they could turn against the Farseers from within.”
    Chade had followed my thoughts effortlessly. “Is not that what we could choose? Hm. Yes. For a time at least, I counsel you to be wary. Yet open, too. Be ready for them to contact you again. See what they demand, and what they offer. If necessary, let them think you will betray the Prince.”
    “Dangle myself like bait.” I sat up and lifted the cloth off my eyes.
    A smile twitched at his mouth. “Exactly.” He held out a hand and I gave him the wet cloth. He tilted his head and regarded me critically. “You look terrible. Worse than a man coming off a weeklong drunk. Are you in much pain?”
    “I can deal with it,” I replied gruffly.
    He nodded to himself, pleased. “I’m afraid you’ll have to. But it grows less each time, doesn’t it? Your body is learning to handle it. I think perhaps it is like a swordsman training his muscles to tolerate the hours of drill.”
    I leaned forward with a sigh to rub my stinging eyes. “I think it is more like a bastard learning to tolerate pain.”
    “Well. Whatever it is, I am pleased.” His reply was brisk. I would get no sympathy from the old man. He stood. “Go and get cleaned up, Fitz. Eat something. Be seen. Go armed, but casually so.” He paused. “You recall where my poisons and tools are kept, I am sure. Take whatever you need, but leave me a list so I can have my apprentice replace the inventory.”
    I didn’t retort that I would take nothing, that I was no longer an assassin. I had already thought of one or two powders that might be useful if I found myself outnumbered as I had this morning. “When will I meet this new apprentice of yours?” I asked casually.
    “You have.” Chade smiled. “When will you know my new apprentice? I am not sure that would be wise, or