“A moment.” Her words dizzied me. I could imagine it too well.
“I shall finish it swiftly. They died, slowly. But the nexl night, more of Doplin's songbirds were slain, and an old huntsman said it was a weasel, not a fox, for a weasel but drinks the blood whereas a fox would have taken the birds to pieces. I think it was the injustice of her death as much as the cruelty of it that roused the Witted against him. The next day, Doplin's own dog snapped at him. Doplin had both his dog and his dogboy put down. He claimed that when he walked through his stables, every one of his horses went wildeyed at his passage, laying back ears and kicking their stall walls. He had two stableboys hanged over water and burned. He claimed flies began to flock to his kitchen so that he found them dead daily in his food, and that . . .” shook my head at her. “That is the wildness of a man's uneasy conscience, not the work of any Witted ones I have ever known.”
She shrugged. “In any case, the folk cried out to the Queen for justice when over a dozen of his lesser servants had been tortured or killed. And she sent Chade.”
I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms on my chest. So. The old assassin was still the bearer of the Farseer justice. I wondered who had accompanied him to do the quiet work. “What happened?” asked, as if I did not know. “Chade made a simple solution to it all. By the Queen's order, he forbade Doplin to keep horse, hawk, or hound, or beast or bird of any kind in his manor. He cannot ride, hawk, or hunt in any form. Chade even forbade him and all who live in his keep the eating of any flesh or fish for a year.” “That will make for a dreary holding.” “It is said among the minstrels that no one guests with Doplin anymore unless they must, that his servants are few and surly, and that he has lost his stature with the other nobles since his hospitality has become such a threadbare welcome. And Chade forced him to pay bloodgold, not only to the families of the slain servants, but to the family of the foxgirl.”
“Did they take it?”
“The servants' families did. It was only fair. The foxgirl's family was gone, dead or fled, no one could or would say. Chade demanded that the blood money for her be given to the Queen's countingman, to be held for the family.” She shrugged. “That should have settled it. But from that time to now, the incidents have multiplied. Not just the scourings for Witted ones, but the revenge the Witted wreak in turn on their tormentors.”
I frowned. “I don't see why any of that would provoke further uprisings among the Witted. It seems to me Doplin was justly punished.”
"And some say more severely than he deserved, but Chade was unrelenting. Nor did he stop with that. Shortly after that, all six Dukes received scrolls from Queen Kettricken, saying that to be Witted was no crime, save that a Witted one used it for evil ends. She told the Dukes they must forbid their nobles and lords to execute Witted ones, save that their crimes had been proven against them as surely as any ordinary man's crimes. The edict did not sit av, well, as you can imagine. Where it is not ignored, proof of a man's guilt is always ample after his death. Instead of calm- ing feelings, the Queen's declaration seemed to wake all the old feelings against the Witted ones.
“But among the Witted, it has seemed to rally them to defiance. They do not suffer their blood to be executed without a fight. Sometimes they are content merely to free their own before they can be killed, but often enough they strike back in vengeance. Almost any time there is an exe- cution of a Witted one, some evil swiftly befalls those responsible. Their cattle die or diseased rats bite their children. Always it has to do with animals. In one village, the river fish they depended on simply did not migrate that year. Their nets hung empty and the folk went hungry.”
“Ridiculous. Folk claim happenstance is malice. Thei Witted do not have the kind of powers you are ascribing to them.” I spoke with great surety.
She gave me a disdainful look. “Then why do the Piebalds claim credit for such acts, if the work is not theirs?”
“The Piebalds? Who are the Piebalds?”
She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "No one knows. They do not announce themselves. They leave messages pegged to inn doors or trees, and send missives to the no- bles. They always sing the same tune with different words: 'Such a one was killed unjustly, for no crime but merely for possessing Old Blood magic. Now our wrath falls on you. I When the Piebald Prince returns, he will have no mercy on! you.' And it is signed with no name, but only an image of aj piebald stallion. It makes folk furious.
“The Queen has refused to send out her guard to hunt them down. So now the gossip among some of the nobility is that Queen Kettricken herself is at fault for the increased executions of Witted ones, for her punishing of Lord Doplin has made them think they have the right to their perverted magic.” At my scowl, she reminded me, “A minstrel but re- peats what she has heard. I do not create the rumors, nor put words in people's mouths.” She came closer to me and, from behind me, set her hands on my shoulders. She bent down, her cheek by mine. Gently, she added, “After all the years we have been together, surely you know by now that I do not consider you tainted.” She kissed my cheek.
