Web was my sole comfort. He came every day, offering quietly to keep watch by Thick while I took some time for myself. I could not completely relax my vigil, of course. I maintained a Skill-awareness of Thick lest he sweep us all into some wild and fearful dream. But I could at least leave the confines of the cabin to stroll briefly on the deck and feel some wind in my face. This arrangement, however, kept me from having time alone with Web. It was not just for Chade's ends that I longed to speak with him. More and more, his quiet competency and kindness impressed me. I had a sense that he courted me, not as Dutiful's nobles courted the Prince, but as Burrich had insinuated himself into the presence of a horse he wished to retrain. And it worked, despite my being aware of it. With every passing day, I felt less wariness and caution toward him. It no longer seemed a threat that he knew who I really was, but almost a comfort. I harbored a host of questions I longed to ask him: How many of the Old Blood knew that FitzChivalry still lived? How many knew I was he? Yet I dared not voice such questions in Thick's hearing, even when he wandered in his fever-dreams. There was no telling how he might repeat such words, aloud or in dreams.

Very late one evening, when the Prince and Chade had returned from some entertainment, I waited until Dutiful had dismissed his servants. He and Chade sat with glasses of wine, talking quietly on the cushioned bench beneath the window that looked out over our wake from our dimly lit cabin. I rose and left Thick's side and, going to the table, beckoned them. Weary as they both were from a long session of Stones with Lord Excellent, they were still intrigued enough to immediately join me. I spoke to Dutiful without a preamble. “Has Web ever confided to you that he knows I am FitzChivalry?”

The look of astonishment on his face was answer enough.

“Did he need to know that?” Chade grumbled at me.

“Is there a reason to keep such knowledge from me?” the Prince replied for me, more sharply than I would have expected.

“Only that this bit of intrigue has nothing to do with our present mission. I would keep your mind focused on the matters that most concern us, Prince Dutiful.” Chade's voice was restrained.

“Perhaps, Councilor Chade, you could let me decide which matters concern me?” The asperity in Dutiful's voice warned me that this was a topic that had been discussed before.

“Then there is no sign that anyone else in your ‘Witted coterie' knows who I am?”

The Prince hesitated before replying slowly. “None. There has been talk, from time to time, of the Witted Bastard. And when I think back, Web has initiated it. But he brings it up in the same manner in which he teaches us Witted history and traditions. He speaks of a topic, and then asks us questions that lead us deeper into understanding it. He has never spoken of FitzChivalry as other than an historic figure.”

A little unnerving, to hear of myself as an “historic figure.” Chade spoke before I became too uncomfortable.

“Then Web teaches your Witted coterie formally? History, traditions . . . what else?”

“Courtesy. He tells us old fables of Witted folk and beasts. And how to prepare before beginning a Search for an animal partner. I think that what he teaches are things that the others have known from childhood, but he teaches them for my benefit and Swift's. Yet when he tells tales, the others listen closely, especially the minstrel Cockle. I think he possesses much lore that was on the verge of being lost, and he speaks it to us that we may keep it safe and pass it on in our turn.”

I nodded to that. “When persecution broke up the Witted communities, the Witted had to conceal their traditions and knowledge. It would be inevitable that less of it was passed on to their children.”

“Why, do you think, does Web speak of FitzChivalry?” Chade asked speculatively.

I watched Dutiful think it through, in the same way Chade had taught me to ponder any man's action. What could he gain by it? Who did it threaten? “It could be that he suspects that I know. Yet I don't think that is it. I think he poses it to the Wit coterie to make them consider, ‘What is the difference between a ruler who is Witted or unWitted?' What would it have meant for the Six Duchies if Fitz had come to power at that time instead of being executed for his magic? What might it mean for the Six Duchies if it ever becomes safe for me to reveal that I am Old Blood? And also, how does it benefit my people, all my people, to have an Old Blood ruler? And how can my Wit coterie assist me in my reign?”

“In your reign?” Chade asked sharply. “Do their ambitions run that far ahead of us? They had spoken of aiding you on this quest, to show the Six Duchies that the Wit can be put to a good cause. Do they think to continue as advisers beyond this task?”