I just looked at her, a flat gaze that would have sent any Buckkeep stableboy scuttling, and wiped the grin from the face of a Buck guard. But Starling was a minstrel. Singers of songs are never easily abashed. She went on with her meal, waiting for my answer. "Why would I be going to the Mountains?" I asked her, softly.

She swallowed, took a sip of wine, then smiled. "I don't know why. To rally to Kettricken's aid perhaps? Whatever the reason, I suspect there's a song in it, don't you?"

A year ago, her charm and smile might have won me. A year ago I would have wanted to believe this engaging woman, I'd have wanted her to be my friend. Now she only made me tired. She was an encumbrance, a connection to avoid. I didn't answer her question. I only said, "It's a foolish time to even think of going to the Mountains. The winds are against the trip; there will be no barge runs until spring; and King Regal has forbidden travel or trade between the Six Duchies and the Mountains. No one's going to the Mountains."

She nodded her agreement. "I understand that the King's guards pressed two barges and their crews a week ago, and forced them to attempt the trip. Bodies from at least one barge washed back to shore. Men and horses. No one knows if the other soldiers made it across or not. But" she smiled with satisfaction and drew closer to me as she dropped her voice "I do know of one group who are still bound for the Mountains."

"Who?" I demanded.

She made me wait a moment.

"Smugglers." She spoke the word very softly.

"Smugglers?" I asked cautiously. It made sense. The tighter the restrictions on trade, the more profitable for those who managed it. There would always be men who would risk their lives for a profit.

"Yes. But that is not truly why I sought you out. Fitz, you must have heard that King Regal has come to Blue Lake. But it's all a lie, a trap to lure you in. You must not go there."

"I knew that," I told her calmly.

"How?" she demanded. She spoke quietly, but I could see how annoyed she was that I had known before she had told me.

"Perhaps a little bird told me," I told her loftily. "You know how it is, we Witted ones speak the tongues of all the animals."

"Truly?" she asked me, gullible as a child.

I raised one eyebrow at her. "It would be more interesting to me to know how you knew."

"They tracked us down to question us. Everybody they could find from Madge's caravan."

"And?"

"And such tales as we told! According to Creece, several sheep were lost along the way, dragged off at night without a sound. And when Tassin told of the night you tried to rape her, she said it was only then she noticed that your nails were black like a wolf's claws, and your eyes glowed in the darkness."

"I never tried to rape her!" I exclaimed, and then hushed myself when the waiting-boy turned toward us inquiringly.

Starling leaned back in her chair. "But such a fine tale as it made, it fair brought tears to my eyes. She showed the Skillwizard the mark on her cheek where you'd clawed her, and said she would never have escaped you but for the wolfsbane that happened to grow nearby."

"It sounds to me as if you should follow Tassin about if you are looking for a song," I muttered disgustedly.

"Oh, but the tale I told was even better," she began, then shook her head at the serving boy as he approached. She pushed away her empty plate and glanced about the room. It was starting to fill with the evening's customers. "I have a room upstairs," she invited me. "We can talk more privately there."

This second meal had finally filled my belly. And I was warm. I should have felt wary, but the food and the warmth were making me sleepy. I tried to focus my thoughts. Whoever these smugglers were, they offered the hope of getting to the Mountains.

The only hope I'd had lately. I gave a small nod. She rose and I followed with my carry-basket.

The room upstairs was clean and warm. There was a feather bed on the bedframe, with clean wool blankets upon it. A pottery ewer of water and a washbasin rested on a small stand by the bed. Starling lit several candles in the room, driving the shadows back into the corners. Then she gestured me in. As she latched the door behind us, I sat down on the chair. Odd, how a simple, clean room could seem such a luxury to me now. Starling sat down on the bed.

"I thought you said you had no more coin than I did," I commented.

"I didn't, back then. But since I came to Blue Lake, I've been in demand. Even more so since the guards' bodies were found."

"How is that?" I asked her coldly.

"I'm a minstrel'' she retorted. "And I was there when the Wit-Bastard was taken. Do you think I can't tell the story of that well enough to be worth a coin or two?"

"So. I see." I mulled over what she had told me, then asked, "So, do I owe my glowing red eyes and fangs to your telling?"

She gave a snort of disdain. "Of course not. Some street corner ballad maker came up with that." Then she halted, and smiled almost to herself "But I'll admit to a bit of embroidery. As I tell it, Chivalry's Bastard was stoutly thewed and fought like a buck, a young man in the prime of his years, despite the fact that his right arm still bore the savage marks of King Regal's sword. And above his left eye, he'd a streak of white as wide as a man's hand in his hair. It took three guardsmen just to hold him, and he did not stop fighting, even when the leader of the guard struck him so hard it knocked the teeth from the front of his mouth." She paused and waited. When I said nothing, she cleared her throat. "You might thank me for making it a bit less likely that folk would recognize you on the street."

"Thank you. I suppose. How did Creece and Tassin react to that?"

"They nodded all the while. My story only made theirs all the better, you see."

"I see. But you still haven't told me how you know it was a trap."

"They offered us money for you. If any of us had had word from you. Creece wanted to know how much. We had been taken up to the King's own sitting room for this questioning. To make us feel more important, I suppose. We were told the King himself felt ill after his long trip, and was resting right next door. While we were there, a servant came out, bringing the King's cloak and his boots to be cleaned of mud." Starling gave me a small smile. "The boots were immense."

"And you know the size of the King's feet?" I knew she was correct. Regal had small hands and feet, and was more vain of them than many a court lady.

"I've never been to court. But a few of those better born at our keep had been up to Buckkeep for occasions. They spoke much of the handsome youngest prince, of his fine manners and dark curling hair. And his tiny feet, and how well he danced on them." She shook her head. "I knew it was not King Regal in that room. The rest was easy to deduce. They had come to Blue Lake too promptly following the killings of the guards. They came for you."

"Perhaps," I conceded. I was beginning to have a high opinion of Starling's wits. "Tell me more of the smugglers. How did you come to hear of them?"

She shook her head, smiling. "If you strike a bargain with them, it will be through me. And I shall be a part of it."

"How are they getting to the Mountains?" I asked.

She looked at me. "If you were a smuggler, would you tell others what route you used?" Then she shrugged. "I've heard gossip that smugglers have a way to cross the river. An old way. I know there was once a trade route that went upriver and then across. It fell out of favor when the river became so unpredictable. Since the bad fires a few years back, the river floods every year. When it does, it shifts in its bed. So the regular traders have come to rely more on boats than on a bridge that may or may not be intact." She paused to gnaw briefly at a thumbnail. "I think that at one time there was a bridge a way upstream, but after the river washed it out for the fourth consecutive year, no one had the heart to rebuild it. Someone else told me that in summer there is a pulley ferry, and that they used to cross on the ice in winter. In the years when the river freezes. Maybe they are hoping the river will freeze this year. My own thought is, when trade is stopped in one place, it starts in another. There will be a way across."