The Wise Man's Fear Part 50

I toyed with the idea of searching elsewhere. There are other libraries, of course. Every n.o.ble house has at least a modest collection containing household accounts and histories of their lands and family. Most churches had extensive records going back hundreds of years, detailing trials, marriages, and dispositions. The same was true of any sizable city. The Amyr couldn't have destroyed every trace of their existence.

The research itself wouldn't be the hard part. The hard part would be gaining access to the libraries in the first place. I could hardly show up in Renere dressed in rags and road dust, asking to thumb through the palace archives.

This was another instance in which a patron would have been invaluable. A patron could write me a letter of introduction that would open all manner of doors for me. What's more, with a patron's backing, I could make a decent living for myself as I traveled. Many small towns wouldn't even let you play at the local inn without a writ of patronage.

The University had been the center of my life for a solid year. Now, confronted with the necessity of leaving, I was utterly at sea, with no idea of what I could do with myself.

CHAPTER FIFTY.

Chasing the Wind I GAVE MY ADMISSIONS TILE to Fela, telling her I hoped it brought her luck. And so the winter term came to an end. GAVE MY ADMISSIONS TILE to Fela, telling her I hoped it brought her luck. And so the winter term came to an end.

Suddenly three-quarters of my life simply disappeared. I had no cla.s.ses to occupy my time, no s.h.i.+fts in the Medica to fill. I could no longer check out materials from Stocks, use tools in the Fishery, or enter the Archives.

At first it wasn't so bad. The midwinter pageantry was wonderfully distracting, and without the worry of work and study I was free to enjoy myself and spend time in the company of my friends.

Then spring term started. My friends were still there, but they were busy with their own studies. I found myself crossing the river more and more. Denna was still nowhere to be found, but Deoch and Stanchion were always willing to share a drink and some idle gossip.

Threpe was there too, and while he occasionally pressed me to attend a dinner at his house, I could tell his heart wasn't in it. My trial hadn't pleased people on this side of the river either, and they were still telling stories about it. I wouldn't be welcome in any respectable social circle for a great long time, if ever.

I toyed with the idea of leaving the University. I knew people would forget about the trial more quickly if I wasn't around. But where would I go? The only thought that came to mind was heading off to Yll with the vain hope of finding Denna. But I knew that was nothing but foolishness.

Since I didn't need to save money for tuition, I went to repay Devi. But for the first time ever, I wasn't able to find her. Over the course of several days I grew increasingly nervous. I even slid several apologetic notes under her door until I heard from Mola that she was taking a holiday and would be returning soon.

Days pa.s.sed. And I sat idle as winter slowly withdrew from the University. Frost left the corners of windowpanes, drifts of snow dwindled, and trees began to show their first greening buds. Eventually Simmon caught his first glimpse of bare leg beneath a flowing dress and declared spring had officially arrived.

One afternoon as I sat drinking metheglin with Stanchion, Threpe came through the door practically bubbling with excitement. He whisked me off to a private table on the second tier, looking ready to burst with whatever news he was carrying.

Threpe folded his hands on the tabletop. "Since we haven't had much luck finding you a local patron, I started casting my nets farther afield. It's nice to have a local patron. But if you have the support of a properly influential lord, it hardly matters where he lives."

I nodded. My troupe had ranged all over the four corners under the protection of Lord Greyfallow's name.

Threpe grinned. "Have you ever been to Vintas?"

"Possibly," I said. Then seeing his puzzled look, I explained, "I traveled quite a bit when I was young. I can't remember if we ever made it that far east."

He nodded. "Do you know who the Maer Alveron is?"

I did, but I could tell Threpe was bursting to tell me himself. "I seem to remember something ..." I said vaguely.

Threpe grinned. "You know the expression 'rich as the King of Vint?' "

I nodded.

"Well, that's him. His great-great-grandfathers were were the kings of Vint, back before the empire stomped in, converting everyone to the iron law and the the kings of Vint, back before the empire stomped in, converting everyone to the iron law and the Book of the Path Book of the Path. If not for a few quirks of fate a dozen generations back, Alveron would be the royal family of Vintas, not the Calanthis, and my friend the Maer would be the king."

"Your friend?" I said appreciatively. "You know Maer Alveron?"

Threpe made a vacillating gesture."Friend may be stretching things a little," he admitted. "We've been corresponding for some years, exchanging news from our different corners of the world, doing each other a favor or two. It would be more appropriate to say we're may be stretching things a little," he admitted. "We've been corresponding for some years, exchanging news from our different corners of the world, doing each other a favor or two. It would be more appropriate to say we're acquainted. acquainted."

"An impressive acquaintance. What is he like?"

"His letters are quite polite. Never a bit sn.o.bby even though he does stand quite a good rank above me," Threpe said modestly. "He's every bit a king except for the t.i.tle and crown, you know. When Vintas formed, his family refused to surrender any of their plenary powers. That means the Maer has the authority to do most anything King Roderic himself can do: grant t.i.tles, raise an army, coin money, levy taxes-"

Threpe shook his head sharply. "Ah, I forget what I'm doing," he said as he began to search his pockets. "I received a letter from him only yesterday." He produced a piece of paper, unfolded it, then cleared his throat and read: I know you are knee-deep in poets and musicians out there, and I am rather in need of a young man who is good with words. I cannot find anyone to suit me here in Severen. And, everything said, I would prefer the best.He should be good with words above all, perhaps a musician of some sort. After that, I would desire him to be clever, well-spoken, mannerly, educated, and discreet. On reading this list you may see why I have had no luck finding such a one for myself. If you happen to know a man of this rare sort, encourage him to call on me.I would tell you what use I intend to put him to, but the matter is of a private nature... .

Threpe studied the letter for a moment or two. "It goes on for a bit. Then he says, 'As to the matter I mentioned before, I am in some haste. If there is no one suitable in Imre, please send me a letter by post. If you happen to send someone my way, encourage him to make speed.' " Threpe's eyes scanned the paper for a moment more, his lips moving silently. "That's all of it," he said finally, and tucked it back into a pocket. "What do you think?"

"You do me a great-"

"Yes, yes." He waved a hand impatiently. "You're flattered. Skip all that." He leaned forward seriously. "Will you do it? Will your studies," he made a dismissive gesture westward, toward the University, "permit an absence of a season or so?"

I cleared my throat. "I've actually been considering taking my studies abroad for a time."

The count burst into a wide grin and thumped the arm of his chair. "Good!" he laughed. "I thought I was going to have to pry you out of your precious University like a penny from a dead s.h.i.+m's fist! This is a wonderful opportunity, you realize. Once in a lifetime, really." He gave me a sly wink. "Besides, a young man like yourself would be hard-pressed to find a better patron than a man who's richer than the king of Vint."

"There's some truth to that," I admitted aloud. Silently, I thought, Could I hope for better a.s.sistance in my search for the Amyr? Could I hope for better a.s.sistance in my search for the Amyr?

"There's much much truth to that," he chuckled. "How soon can you be ready to leave?" truth to that," he chuckled. "How soon can you be ready to leave?"

I shrugged. "Tomorrow?"

Threpe raised an eyebrow. "You don't give much time for the dust to settle, do you?"

"He said he was in haste, and I'd rather be early than late."

"True. True." He drew a silver gear-watch from his pocket, looked at it, then sighed as he clicked it closed. "I'll have to miss some sleep tonight drafting a letter of introduction for you."

I glanced at the window. "It's not even dark yet," I said. "How long do you expect it to take?"

"Hush," he said crossly. "I write slowly, especially when I'm sending a letter to someone as important as the Maer. Plus I have to describe you, no easy task by itself."

"Let me help you then," I said. "No sense losing sleep on my account." I smiled. "Besides, if there's one thing I'm well-versed in it's my own good qualities."

The next day I made a round of hasty good-byes to everyone I knew at the University. I received heartfelt handshakes from Wilem and Simmon and a cheerful wave from Auri.

Kilvin grunted without looking up from his engraving and told me to write down any ideas I might have for the ever-burning lamp while I was away. Arwyl gave me a long, penetrating look through his spectacles and told me there would be a place for me in the Medica when I returned.

Elxa Dal was refres.h.i.+ng after the other masters' reserved responses. He laughed and admitted he was a little jealous of my freedom. He advised me to take full advantage of every reckless opportunity that presented itself. If a thousand miles wasn't enough to keep my escapades secret, he said, then nothing would.

I had no luck finding Elodin, and settled for sliding a note under the door of his office. Though since he never seemed to use the place, it might be months before he found it.

I bought a new travelsack and a few other things a sympathist should never be without: wax, string and wire, hook-needle and gut. My clothes were easy to pack, as I didn't own many.

As I loaded my pack, I slowly realized I couldn't take everything with me. This came as something of a shock. For so many years I'd been able to carry everything I've owned, usually with a hand to spare.

But since I'd moved into this small garret room, I'd begun gathering oddments and half-finished projects. I now had the luxury of two blankets. There were pages of notes, a circular piece of half-inscribed tin from the Fishery, a broken gear-clock I'd taken to pieces to see if I could put it back together again.

I finished loading my travelsack, then packed everything else into the trunk that sat at the foot of my bed. A few worn tools, a broken piece of slate I used for ciphering, a small wooden box with the handful of small treasures Auri had given me... .

Then I went downstairs and asked Anker if he would mind stowing my possessions in the bas.e.m.e.nt until I returned. He admitted a little guiltily that before I'd started sleeping there, the tiny, slant-ceilinged room had been empty for years, and only used for storage. He was willing to leave it unrented if I promised to continue our current room-for-music arrangement after I returned. I gladly agreed, and swinging my lute case onto my shoulder I headed out the door.

I wasn't entirely surprised to find Elodin on Stonebridge. Very little about the Master Namer surprised me these days. He sat on the waist-high stone lip of the bridge, swinging his bare feet over the hundred-foot drop to the river below.

"h.e.l.lo Kvothe," he said without turning his eyes from the churning water.

"h.e.l.lo Master Elodin," I said. "I'm afraid I'm going to be leaving the University for a term or two."

"Are you really afraid?" I noticed a whisper of amus.e.m.e.nt in his quiet, resonant voice.

It took me a moment to realize what he was referring to. "It's just a figure of speech."

"The figures of our speaking are like pictures of names. Vague, weak names, but names nonetheless. Be mindful of them." He looked up at me. "Sit with me for a moment."

I started to excuse myself, then hesitated. He was my sponsor, after all. I set down my lute and travelsack on the flat stone of the bridge. A fond smile came over Elodin's boyish face and he slapped the stone parapet next to himself with the flat of his hand, offering me a seat.

I looked over the edge with a hint of anxiety. "I'd rather not, Master Elodin."

He gave me a reproachful look. "Caution suits an arcanist. a.s.surance suits a namer. Fear does not suit either. It does not suit you." He slapped the stone again, more firmly this time.

I carefully climbed onto the parapet and swung my feet over the edge. The view was spectacular, exhilarating.

"Can you see the wind?"

I tried. For a moment it seemed as if... No. It was nothing. I shook my head.

Elodin shrugged nonchalantly, though I sensed a hint of disappointment. "This is a good place for a namer. Tell me why."

I looked around. "Wide wind, strong water, old stone."

"Good answer." I heard genuine pleasure in his voice. "But there is another reason. Stone, water, and wind are other places too. What makes this different?"

I thought for a moment, looked around, shook my head. "I don't know."

"Another good answer. Remember it."

I waited for him to continue. When he didn't, I asked, "What makes this a good place?"

He looked out over the water for a long time before he answered. "It is an edge," he said at last. "It is a high place with a chance of falling. Things are more easily seen from edges. Danger rouses the sleeping mind. It makes some things clear. Seeing things is a part of being a namer."

"What about falling?" I asked.

"If you fall, you fall," Elodin shrugged. "Sometimes falling teaches us things too. In dreams you often fall before you wake."

We were both silent in our thoughts for a while. I closed my eyes and tried to listen for the name of the wind. I heard the water below, felt the stone of the bridge beneath my palms. Nothing.

"Do you know what they used to say when a student left the University for a term?" Elodin asked.

I shook my head.

"They said he was chasing the wind," he chuckled.

"I've heard the expression."

"Have you? What did it seem to mean?"

I took a moment to choose my words. "It had a frivolous flavor. As if students were running around to no good purpose."

Elodin nodded. "Most students leave for frivolous reasons, or to pursue frivolous things." He leaned forward to look straight down at the river below. "But that was not always the meaning of it."

"No?"

"No." He sat back up again. "Long ago, when all students aspired to be namers, things were different." He licked a finger and held it to the air. "The name most fledgling namers were encouraged to find was that of the wind. After they found that name, their sleeping minds were roused and finding other names was easier.

"But some students had trouble finding the name of the wind. There were too few edges here, too little risk. So they would go off into the wild, uneducated lands. They would seek their fortunes, have adventures, hunt for secrets and treasure... ." He looked at me. "But they were really looking for the name of the wind."

Our conversation paused as someone came onto the bridge. It was a man with dark hair and a pinched face. He watched us from the corner of his eye without turning his head, and as he walked behind us I tried not to think how easy it would be for him to push me off the bridge.

Then he was past us. Elodin gave a weary sigh and continued. "Things have changed. There are even fewer edges now than there were before. The world is less wild. There are fewer magics, more secrets, and only a handful of people who know the name of the wind."

"You know it, don't you?" I asked.

Elodin nodded. "It changes from place to place, but I know how to listen for its changing shape." He laughed and clapped me on the shoulder. "You should go. Chase the wind. Do not be afraid of the occasional risk." He smiled. "In moderation."

I swung my legs around, hopped off the thick wall, and resettled my lute and travelsack over my shoulder. But as I started toward Imre, Elodin's voice stopped me. "Kvothe."

I turned and saw Elodin lean forward over the side of the bridge. He grinned like a schoolboy. "Spit for luck."

Devi opened the door for me and widened her eyes in shock. "My goodness," she said, pressing a piece of paper dramatically to her chest. I recognized it as one of the notes I left under her door. "It's my secret admirer."

"I was trying to pay off my loan," I said. "I made four trips."

"The walk is good for you," she said with a cheerful lack of sympathy as she motioned me inside, bolting the door behind me. The room smelled of...

I sniffed. "What is that?" I asked.