I inspected every item in my room before I handled it. I saw that every scrap of food that had remained on Cook’s trays was disposed of where no one and nothing would taste it. I discarded the water in the buckets as well as that in my ewer. I inspected my supply of firewood and candles for powders or resins, checked my bedding for powder, and reluctantly discarded my complete supply of herbs. I would take no chances. I could discover no possessions missing, nor that anything had been added to my room. Sometime later I sat down on my bed, feeling exhausted and unnerved. I would have to be more on my guard, I concluded. I recalled the Fool’s experience and pondered it. I did not want to encounter a bag and a beating the next time I entered my room.

My room suddenly seemed confining, a trap that I must return to each day. I left it, not bothering to lock it as I went. Locks were useless. Let them see I did not fear their intrusion. Even though I did.

Outside, it was a mild, clear late afternoon. The unseasonably kind weather ate at me, even as I enjoyed my walk through the inner circle of the Keep. I decided I would walk down to town, to pay a visit to the Rurisk and my shipmates there, and then perhaps go into a tavern for a beer. It had been too long since I’d walked to town, and far too long since I’d listened to the gossip of town folk. It would be a relief to get away from Buckkeep intrigues for a while.

I was going out the gate when a young guardsman stepped into my path. “Stand!” he commanded me, then: “Please, sir,” he added as he recognized me.

I halted obediently. “Yes?”

He cleared his throat, then suddenly went scarlet all the way to his hairline. He took a breath, then stood silent.

“Did you need something from me?” I asked.

“Please to wait a moment, sir,” the boy blurted.

The lad disappeared back into the guardhouse, and a moment later an older watch officer emerged. She regarded me gravely, took a breath as if to steel herself, then said quietly, “You are denied passage out of the Keep.”

“What?” I could not believe my ears.

She drew herself up. When she spoke, her voice was firmer. “You are denied passage out of the Keep.”

A surge of anger heated me. I forced it down. “By whose command?”

She stood firm before me. “My commands come from the captain of the watch, sir. That is all I know of it.”

“I would speak to that captain.” I kept my voice courteous.

“He is not in the guardroom. Sir.”

“I see.” But I did not, quite. I could perceive all the nooses tightening about me, but could not understand why just now. The other obvious question to ask, however, was “why not?” With Shrewd’s enfeeblement, Verity had become my protector. But he was away. I could turn to Kettricken, but only if I were willing to bring her into open conflict with Regal. I was not. Chade was, as always, a shadow power. All of this passed through my mind quickly. I was turning away from the gate when I heard my name called. I turned back.

Coming up the hill from town was Molly. Her servant’s blue dress flapped around her calves as she ran. And she ran heavily, unevenly, unlike her usual graceful stride. She was exhausted, or nearly so. “Fitz!” she cried out again, and there was fear in her voice.

I started to go to her, but the guard stepped suddenly into my path. Fear was on her face, too, but also determination. “I cannot let you go out of the gate. I have my orders.”

I wanted to smash her from my path. I forced my rage down. A struggle with her would not help Molly. “Then you go to her, damn you! Can’t you see the woman is in trouble of some kind?”

She stood eye to eye with me, unmoving. “Miles!” she called, and the boy leaped out. “Go see what is wrong with that woman. Quickly now!”

The boy took off like a shot. I stood, with the guard standing squarely before me, and watched helplessly over her shoulder as Miles raced to Molly. When he reached her, he put an arm around her and took her basket on his other arm. Leaning heavily on him, gasping and near weeping, Molly came toward the gate. It seemed to take forever before she was through the gate and in my arms. “Fitz, oh Fitz,” she sobbed.

“Come,” I told her. I turned her away from the guard, walked her away from the gate. I knew I had done the sensible thing, the calm thing, but I felt shamed and small from it.

“Why didn’t you … come to me?” Molly panted.

“The guard would not let me. They have orders I am not to leave Buckkeep,” I said quietly. I could feel her trembling as she leaned against me. I took her around the corner of a warehouse, out of sight of the guards standing gaping in the gate. I held her in my arms until she quieted. “What’s wrong? What happened?” I tried to make my voice soothing. I brushed back the hair that hung about her face. After a few moments she quieted in my arms. Her breathing steadied, but she still trembled.