I think the Fool put her up to it. Certainly he had spent a great many hours in the tower-top garden with Kettricken, and his admiration for what she had accomplished there was unfeigned. Much goodwill can be won with a sincere compliment. By the end of the summer, not only was she laughing at his jests when he came up to entertain her and her ladies, but he had persuaded her to be a frequent caller in the King's chambers. As queen-in-waiting, she was immune to Wallace's humors. Kettricken herself undertook to mix King Shrewd strengthening tonics, and for a time the King did seem to rally under her care and attention. I think the Fool decided that he would accomplish through her what he had been unable to nag Verity and me into doing.

It was a wintry fall evening when she first broached the subject to me. I was up on the tower top with her, helping her to tie bundles of straw about the more tender of the plants there, that they might better withstand the winter snows. This was something Patience had decreed must be done, and she and Lacey were performing the same task on a bed of windbower plants behind me. She had become a frequent adviser to Queen Kettricken in matters of growing things, albeit a very timid one. Little Rosemary was at my elbow, handing me twine as we needed it. Two or three of Kettricken's other ladies, well bundled, had stayed, but they were at the other end of the garden, talking quietly together. The others she had dismissed back to their hearths when she had noted them shivering and blowing on their fingers. My bare hands were near numb, as were my ears, but Kettricken seemed perfectly comfortable. As was Verity, tucked away somewhere inside my skull. He had insisted that I start carrying him again after he had discovered that once more I was going out after Forged ones alone. I scarcely noticed his presence in the back of my mind anymore. Yet I believe that I felt him startle when Kettricken asked me, as she knotted a string about a bundled plant I was supporting, what I knew of the Elderlings.

"Little enough, my lady queen," I replied honestly, and once more made a promise to myself to go through the long-neglected manuscripts and scrolls.

"Why not?" she demanded.

"Well, little was actually written about them. I believe at one time a knowledge of them was so common as not to need writing down. And the bits that are written about them are scattered here and there, not gathered in one place. It would take a scholar to track down all the remnants…"

"A scholar like the Fool?" she asked tartly. "He seems to know more of them than anyone else I have asked."

"Well. He is fond of reading, you know, and—"

"Enough of the Fool. I wish to speak to you of the Elderlings," she said abruptly.

I startled at her tone, but found her staring, gray-eyed, out over the sea once more. She had not intended either a rebuke or a rudeness. She was simply intent upon her objective. I reflected that in my months away she had become more certain of herself. More queenly.

"I know a little bit," I offered hesitantly.

"As do I. Let us see if what each of us knows agrees. I shall begin."

"As you wish, my queen."

She cleared her throat. "Long ago, King Wisdom was bitterly besieged by raiders from the sea. When all else had failed him, and he feared that the next summer of kind weather would bring the end of the Six Duchies and House Farseer, he resolved to spend the winter searching for a legendary folk. The Elderlings. Do we agree so far?"

"Mostly. As I have heard it, the legends called them not a folk, but near gods. And the folk of the Six Duchies had always believed Wisdom something of a religious fanatic, almost a madman where such things were concerned."

"Men of passion and vision are often seen as mad," she calmly informed me. "I shall continue. He left his castle one fall, with no more information than that the Elderlings resided in the Rain Wilds beyond the tallest mountains of the Mountain Kingdom. Somehow, he found them, and he won their alliance. He returned to Buckkeep, and together they drove the raiders and invaders away from the coasts of the Six Duchies. Peace and trade were reestablished. And the Elderlings swore to him that if they were ever needed again, they would return. Do we still agree?"

"As before, mostly. I have heard many minstrels say that the ending is a standard one in tales of heroes and quests. Always, they promise that if ever they are needed again, they will return. Some even pledge to return from beyond the grave if they must."

"Actually," Patience suddenly observed, rocking back on her heels, "Wisdom himself never returned to Buckkeep. The Elderlings came to his daughter, Princess Mindful, and it was to her they offered allegiance."

"Whence do you have that knowledge?" Kettricken demanded.

Patience shrugged. "An old minstrel my father used to have always sang it that way." Unconcerned, she went back to knotting twine about a straw-bundled plant.

Kettricken considered a moment. The wind teased loose a long lock of her hair and blew it across her face like a net. She looked at me through the pale web. "It doesn't matter what the tales say about their returning. If a King once sought them, and they gave aid, do you not think they might do so again, if a King again beseeched them? Or a Queen?"

"Perhaps," I said grudgingly. Privately I wondered if the Queen longed for her homeland and would make any excuse for a visit there. Folk were beginning to talk about her lack of pregnancy. While many ladies attended her now, she really had no favorites that were genuinely her friends. Lonely, I suspected. "I think…" I began gently, pausing to consider how to frame a discouraging reply.

Tell her she should come to me and speak of it. I wish to know more of what she has gleaned. Verity's thought quivered with excitement. It unsettled me.

"I think you should take your idea to the King-in-Waiting and discuss it with him," I dutifully suggested to her.

She was silent a long time. When she spoke, her voice was pitched very low, for my ears alone. "I think not. He will consider it another one of my foolishnesses. He will listen for a bit, and then begin to look at the maps on the wall, or move things about on his table as he waits for me to finish so he can smile and nod and send me on my way. Again." Her voice hoarsened on the last word. She brushed the hair back from her face, then brushed at her eyes again. She turned from me to look out over the sea again, as distant as Verity when he Skilled.

She's crying?

I could not conceal from Verity my annoyance that this surprised him.

Bring her to me. Now, at once!

"My queen?"

"A moment." Kettricken looked aside from me. With her face away from me, she pretended to be scratching her nose. I knew she brushed at tears.

"Kettricken?" I ventured the familiarity as I had not for months. "Let us go to him now with this idea. At once. I will go with you."

She spoke hesitantly, not turning to look at me. "You do not think it is foolish?"

I would not lie, I reminded myself. "I think that as things stand, we must consider any possible sources of aid." As I spoke the words I found I believed them. Had not both Chade and the Fool hinted, no, pleaded for this very idea? Perhaps Verity and I were the ones who were shortsighted.

She took a shuddering breath. "We shall do it, then. But… you must wait for me outside my chamber. I wish to fetch several scrolls to show him. I will be but a short time." She turned to Patience, spoke more loudly. "Lady Patience, might I ask you to finish these plants for me as well? I have something else I wish to attend to."

"Of course, my queen. I should be pleased to."

We left the garden, and I followed her to her chambers. I waited for more than a short time. When she emerged, her little maid Rosemary was behind her, insisting on carrying the scrolls for her. Kettricken had washed the soil from her hands. And changed her gown, and added scent and dressed her hair and was wearing the jewelry Verity had sent to her when she was pledged to him. She smiled at me cautiously as I looked at her. "My lady queen, I am dazzled," I ventured.