Read the previous entry in the series here.
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Something of a content warning (torture) applies to the chapter and, to a lesser extent, the discussion following.

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Following a brief note that lays out some of the Servants’ methodology, “Surprises” begins with Chade and Fitz continuing to dose and question members of the Withywoods household. The pair discuss theories about their daughters’ abduction, and Fitz determines to return to Buckkeep and confer with the Fool. Chade determines to accompany him after they finish questioning the members of the household.

Fitz stalks through the estate, musing on his failures once again, and he directs the members of the household he encounters to attend to a diversity of tasks, thinking that occupying them would help them not focus on their own sufferings. Successors to slain members of the household are named, and matters begin to be set to rights until after dinner, when the remaining members of the household are dosed and questioned, the information they provide slotted in among what Chade and Fitz already knew.

As Fitz bears witness, Skilled members of Dutiful’s court join him through that magic, and they confer along with Chade about next steps. A report of the Fool’s declining condition is made to Fitz, and Chade steels him against acting rashly once again. At Chade’s urging, Fitz retires to a fitful, fretful night, after which the pair take breakfast along with the officers of Chade’s rough unit. Preparations are made for setting out, and Chade and Fitz confer as they ride along. Unexpected members of the rough unit join them, attempting to assail them. Battle is joined, and Fitz messily and brutally dispatches of his opponents. Chade is far less kind to his own opponent, extracting information from him, before the two plunge through a standing stone towards Buckkeep.

The present chapter is a reminder, as if one was needed, that Fitz and Chade both are very, very dangerous people within the milieu. The fight, even though it left Fitz injured and Chade in a perilous position, saw the pair of them fight off superior numbers that had the element of surprise in their favor–albeit not so much as they had thought they would. That Fitz is yet capable of savagery is, perhaps, foreshadowing, something with which the Realm of the Elderlings corpus as a whole is concerned and on which the present series focuses more narrowly. If it is, however, it’s not terribly illuminating; it does not take much to guess that a trained killer, magically empowered, hunting for his daughter would resort to no small amount of violence. But then, despite its motions away from it, Hobb’s work is part of the Tolkienian tradition.

Another commonplace in Hobb’s work reemerges in the present chapter, as well: torture. That it pops up in the Realm of the Elderlings corpus is amply noted (see this, this, this, this, this, this, this, and this, for examples; Selden in Chalced also offers examples). It also pops up in her non-Elderlings work; a contribution to Warriors comes to mind, and I recall it being a factor in the Soldier Son novels. That it sticks out for me is something of uncertain importance. It may well be that it sticks out for me, that my eye finds it because it is primed, for whatever reason, to search out such things. It may well be that it is part of Hobb’s work towards verisimilitude; torture is, certainly and unfortunately, part of the world her readers inhabit, and so working to create a milieu that immerses readers will necessarily involve it. It may well be, however, that there is some authorial preoccupation with it, and while I have noted more than once that biographical criticism is fraught, that it is so does not mean that it is without value, even if I’m not in a position to be able to do much to follow it.

Many are my scholarly somedays, and no few of them will never come.

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Read the previous entry in the series here.
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Following an excerpt from an in-milieu herbal, “Elfbark” begins with Fitz walking Withywoods again, now aware of the Skilled nature of the ensorcellment that has afflicted it. Steeled against it, he surveys the damage and loss again, and how he addresses the feelings that survey occasions is noted. He and Chade brew elfbark and other herbal concoctions, purposing first to dose Perseverance against the ongoing pain of his injuries and then to administer elfbark to those at Withywods who have been affected by the ensorcellment. Lant is the first of the latter, and the memories breaking upon him once the compulsion to forget is blocked stun him, though Chade questions him despite the shocks.

Lant reports events leading up to the raid on Withywoods and of the event itself. Chade continues to prod, and Fitz quashes bitterness within himself. As Lant completes his report, Fitz and Chade confer together about the implications thereof, determining the power involved in enacting such work. Others are summoned and dosed with elfbark, and more reports are made, clarifying events surrounding Bee’s abduction. Fitz continues to puzzle over the idea of the Unexpected Son, and Perseverance lets out that Fitz is himself. How to proceed thence is discussed.

The present chapter is not the first one to bear the title, of course; one such prior chapter is here, with another here. Both such chapters focus on the deleterious effects of the drug, something the preface to the present chapter reinforces. And some of the negative effects of elfbark, particularly for those being introduced to it for the first time, do show up in the present chapter, although how much of the despair evidenced by characters in the text is a result of the drug and how much is a result of being forced to confront their trauma and victimization is not entirely clear; what the text presents could easily be taken either way. So much said, having the consistency in depiction across the milieu and across decades of writing is a good thing to see; while there may be some argument made against the insistence of late twentieth and early twenty-first century fan communities on internal alignment, such insistence does inform the context in which Hobb writes and in which I read and reread the work, so it is something worth pointing out, at least for now.

With the contexts of composition and initial reception in mind, I suppose some note about the moralizing in the prefatory materials is in order. It is, as I believe I’ve noted and as I know no few people have remarked, not the case that an author of fiction will believe everything that is presented in a text; the perspectives of characters, even unnamed ones not appearing directly, may reflect the author’s informed understanding, but they do not necessarily reflect the author’s opinions or beliefs. As such, I do not think it is the case that Hobb opposes recreational use of mild intoxicants; I think it would be too much of a stretch to read the text in such a way. I do think it would also be too much of a stretch to read the text as a full-throated endorsement of such use, however; as with many things in Hobb’s work, there’s more nuance than that–and, frankly, even the worst drugs used in the Realm of the Elderlings corpus seem to have a time and a place. So maybe that’s the “message” to take from this, if there is one.

It is, after all, “just a story.”

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Read the previous entry in the series here.
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Following an excerpt from Bee’s dream journals, “Chade’s Secret” opens with Fitz waking suddenly from his earlier exertions. After briefly wrestling with his conscience, he reads Bee’s journal and begins to slide toward despair. Fitz presses along despite its weight, attempting to move toward some sense of normalcy and finding that the ensorcellment hanging over Withywoods remains firmly in place. The wrack occasioned by the raid is described in some detail as Fitz looks at it in the daytime, and he sees to Perseverance and Lant.

As Fitz confers with him, Lant reports having gaps in his memories and unaccountable shame in his heart. Their conversation is interrupted by the arrival of troops from Buckkeep whose livery Fitz recognizes as belonging to a rough unit assigned to accompany Slidwell. After a pointed exchange, they are joined by Chade and Thick, and Chade asks after Shun and Lant. Fitz finds himself upbuoyed by Thick, whose Skill manages to pierce the fog in which Fitz has been wandering and awakens the deep anger in him at the theft of his daughter.

At Thick’s frightened outburst, Fitz remasters himself, and he and Chade give orders to see about billeting and restoration. Chade and Fitz step aside to confer, and Fitz finds himself startled at Chade’s reaction to events. Chade reveals that Shun is his daughter and begins to turn his ire towards her family, railing at them for past wrongs. Fitz manages to redirect Chade’s anger alongside his own, and Lant enters to find himself included as another of Chade’s children. Perseverance, answering a summons, also joins the talk and is questioned by Chade.

Thick then joins the throng, escorted by Lant, making comments about the oddity of his surroundings, and Fitz and Chade reach out with the Skill to verify his words and cement their own understandings. The pair of them determine to use elfbark to confound the ensorcellment under which Withywoods has fallen. Lant volunteers to be a test subject, and preparations for dosing are made under some concern. More of Lant’s parentage is revealed, as is Shun’s. Amid the revelations, the pair of bastard assassins purpose to enact revenge.

The present chapter touches, but not much more, on the kinds of things that move Hobb’s principal protagonist away from the bright image of warrior-hero more common to the Tolkienian tradition of fantasy literature in which she partly, but not wholly, participates. I have, in the past and less than gracefully, discussed such things (witness this), but the present chapter is more open in presenting them than is typical of the earlier components of the Realm of the Elderlings corpus. (I say typical largely because of events near the end of Fool’s Errand, here; I am aware of the exceptions, thank you.) Where they appear before, they are in report of actions ordered and seemingly necessary; here, they are, if not more detailed, presented more coldly and with greater ruthlessness, more personal effect. It is the kind of thing that prompts wonderings about Chade’s earlier exploits and, at least for me, some relief that they are not so fully on display as other authors might make them be.

I will leave aside the specter of elfbark for now; the coming chapter addresses it more fully, so I expect to write more on the subject then. What I will discuss is the way in which the present chapter addresses one of the more prominent themes in the Realm of the Elderlings novels: secrecy. Throughout the corpus, characters fail to confide in one another, fail to disclose to one another information that would be useful, helpful, or even outright necessary. Reasons vary, of course, with some of them being unavoidable (Fitz’s lack of knowledge about his father preventing him from saying much of Chivalry to Dutiful–here and elsewhere) or excusable (how much is not told to children because they are children and not yet equipped to handle the information well?) to the “obligatory” (compartmentalization of information to protect operational security / state interests) and the selfish–such as in the present chapter. Much of what Chade could have said to Fitz about his children when he sent them to him for protection was hidden out of vain concern regarding his image. While Chade does occupy something of a paternal position towards Fitz–the avuncular relationship is clear, certainly, and professional mentorship is its own kind of thing–and it is understandable that elders wish to retain the regard of their juniors, not having the information gave Fitz the cognitive space to do as he did. (Lant’s infatuation with Shun takes on additional meaning in the event, as well.) This does not mean Fitz was not in error in his actions–he clearly was–but perhaps they might have been avoided.

Then again, where would the narrative go without such things?

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