Read the previous entry in the series here.
Read the next entry in the series here.

---

The next chapter, “Mishaps,” opens with accounts of the hardening of attitudes and Chade’s findings on an expedition to the Outislands. It moves to Fitz calling on Shrewd; the latter has the Fool serve tea that contains an addictive herb, upon which the Fool comments acerbically. Regal soon inserts himself into the meeting, taking the chance to upbraid Fitz with his manufactured financial crisis. As Shrewd slips into addled delirium, Regal intensifies the personal attack on Fitz, taunting him to physical assault; Fitz stops himself and excuses himself from Shrewd’s presence, beginning an anxious wait for a summons from Chade.

When the summons comes, Fitz answers it with many questions for his mentor. They are uncomfortable questions, and Chade’s replies to trust in the system and the wisdom of the nation’s leadership do not satisfy. Nor yet does the revelation that Chade has been providing certain chemicals to Shrewd for reasons that he refuses to discuss. Nor still does the line of reasoning to which Chade leads Fitz, that the Red-Ship Raiders want only to instill terror, that Verity’s mission to the Elderlings is their only hope.

Fitz’s narrative resumes days later, when Duke Branwdy of Bearns arrives at Buckkeep. He describes his experience of the necessary festivities to welcome the duke and his entourage, as well as the calculated slights offered them by Regal. Too, he has some contact with Celerity that makes him uncomfortable.

After the welcoming dinner, Fitz retires to his chambers, where the Fool awaits him with a sensitive question. Fitz turns to strike the Fool in his anger, only to see that the Fool has already been battered–by Regal’s thugs. As a chastened Fitz makes to tend the Fool’s injuries, he asks why the Fool asks after whether he has fathered a child; the Fool explains as he is able, which is not necessarily clear to Fitz. He also warns Fitz that attempts on Kettricken are likely before making his exit.

After the Fool leaves, Fitz calls on Molly. He asks her if she is with child, and she denies it–but quizzes him on what he would do if she had affirmed being pregnant. Fitz has no good answer and stammers through a poor one. Molly rebukes him for it, using Patience and Burrich as an example of what she means; Patience hates Burrich, she reveals, because she had loved and been spurned by Burrich in favor of his sworn service. The revelation gives Fitz pause and more to consider than he had thought before.

The strangeness of gender norms and expectations comes to mind in reading the present chapter. Fitz is, admittedly, not in a position to have much of a sense of family, given his circumstances, but even so, the dichotomy between his perception of service’s demands and Molly’s protestations about family are striking. There is more to untangle in them that I can give space to here–but there is always another venue for such discussions.

Molly’s protestations line up reasonably neatly with things I have spent a perhaps unfortunate amount of time considering, given my own history trying and failing to make a career of academe. I am recovering now, but earlier in my life, I spent a lot of time trying to be something…other than I am, thinking it somehow of paramount importance that I do. I fear I much neglected my family in making the attempt. Even now, when I give my time to outside concerns in the community, I worry that I am misspending my time. I like to think that I am doing some good in the world, I am told that I am, and I know that my daughter needs to have an example of a parent who tries, at least, to work to the betterment of the community. But I also know that the time I spend on such things is time I am not with my wife and daughter, whom I profess to love; how much love do I show them, being away? At least when I am secluded off, working on some freelance project or another, I am contributing to the support of the household, but when I work with the local PTO or band boosters, I cannot claim such a thing.

It is never an easy calculus to figure out, and my skills at math are less than they perhaps ought to be. But, as Chade points out in the chapter, “Thinking is not always…comforting. It is always good, but not always comforting.” And I have much on which to think.

It’s my birthday, precious. Send me a gift?

 

Read the previous entry in the series here.
Read the next entry in the series soon.

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The following chapter, “Messages,” opens with a gloss of Verity’s expedition–ostensibly to seek military aid from the Mountain Kingdom, but in truth to seek the Elderlings of old–setting out. It moves to Fitz considering the time between Verity being given permission for the quest and setting out on it; having a task enlivens Verity, as many notice with no small approval. Verity sets tasks for Fitz, as well, and remarks upon the ineptitude of the other Skill-users that are set to his service.

After Verity’s party departs, Fitz has a few good days, though he marks the potential for problems that emerges almost immediately upon Verity’s departure. He also notes that word of Verity’s true mission spread quickly, and Regal has turned it to ridicule. Fitz also marks that Chade is unusually distant, perhaps as a result of aging working upon him.

The wary peace in Fitz’s life is broken by news of another Forging, one that should have been prevented by forces that were supposed to be in place but had been reallocated due to a putative lack of funds. At Verity’s Skilled suggestion, Fitz returns to Verity’s chambers, finding they have already been searched to an uncertain end; while Fitz retrieves items at Verity’s bidding, Kettricken enters, and they confer about his absence. They also confer about the irregularities in messaging, and Kettricken arrives quickly at both the conclusion of Regal’s perfidy and a burning desire to redress it directly. Fitz manages to dissuade her from rash action, and Kettricken departs to see to what she can.

After she does, Fitz goes to the stables, thinking to find ease in his old childhood haunt. He comes across a scene in which an inland noble is attempting to buy horses from Regal, who has no authority to sell them. Fitz manages to defuse the situation, but it reveals to him just how quickly Regal is acting to undercut and usurp authority.

Fitz makes to return to his chambers, but he is intercepted by a message from Kettricken, who bids him attend on her. After freshening up a bit, he does so, and Kettricken bids him call upon Shrewd before noting her own experience with doing so. Regal had claimed that Verity withdrew forces from Bearns, effectively ceding territory to the Red-Ship Raiders; Fitz denies the idea, but he hears Kettricken when she notes that Shrewd is effectively in Regal’s thrall.

It is damned hard not to read the chapter against present political circumstances, and I have to caution myself that there is corruption in all groups, in all times, and in all places; the only thing special about the times in which I live is that I live in them, and that is not so special as such a statement might make it seem. But there do seem to be parallels between the present chapter and the surrounding realities, and I cannot help but notice them–or comment on them, as should be obvious.

One of them that comes out as I think on it is the issue of the improper sale at the stables. It is clear that a power-play is in progress, and the solution of papering it over by following forms and procedures seems…unsatisfactory, in the novel as in the enfolding world. But “legal” and “right” are not often the same, and they never have been, so it should not be a surprise to see it in fiction.

Tonight, I play again. Help me buy some reeds?

Read the previous entry in the series here.
Read the next entry in the series here.

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The next chapter, “Elderlings,” opens with an account of the defection of one of the warships Verity had had put into service and outfitted; the vessel turned to piracy rather than fight for the kingdom that had supported her. It moves to Fitz working on a garden with Kettricken. He puzzles out that the Fool has taken to using her to see to Shrewd, since Fitz and Verity do not, and she quizzes him over what he knows of the Elderlings. As they talk, she arrives at the idea of seeking them out to request their help, as legend had said an earlier King in Buckkeep, Wisdom, had done. At Verity’s Skilled behest, Fitz takes Kettricken to her husband to discuss the matter, and Verity takes the idea to heart–to her sorrow.

After being dismissed from Verity and Kettricken, Fitz muses on Molly and the looming courtship with Celerity. Seeking distraction, he calls upon Patience, who subtly suggests to him that his repeated assignations with Molly are having an easily anticipated effect. Neither the time with Patience nor the later brief encounter with Burrich do much to ease his mind. Nor does his response to Shrewd’s summons–which is, in fact, Verity’s; Fitz is to witness Verity’s request to depart to seek the Elderlings. Shrewd is somewhat skeptical of Verity’s own going, though he sees the value in making an attempt.

Regal inserts himself into the discussion, and the tension between the half-brothers is made abundantly clear. Regal capitalizes on an opportunity to eliminate a rival, and Shrewd assents to Verity’s request. As they leave, Verity reminds Fitz of the import of his witness, and Fitz purposes to visit Molly only briefly, to thank her for what she does. In the event, though, he is overwhelmed by Verity’s Skilled interlude with Kettricken, the memories of which linger.

In the chapter, Fitz muses on the unseen sacrifices made for him, noting that he does not know them and feeling some angst at that lack of knowledge. The novel is written perhaps early to make much of the name, but the concept of emotional labor is clear in the text. Again, I find myself reading affectively, and I find that I cannot help but think about the emotional labor done on my behalf during my adolescence. (Some is still done, I know, but I am more aware of it, and I try to minimize the need for it. I am told that I have some success in it, but I have to wonder if that telling is not itself emotional labor…) Certainly, I was not as aware of it as Fitz seems to be, and he is not very aware of it–and the awareness seems apt to fade, though adolescent hormones are strange and powerful things, indeed…

Another point comes to mind, one less bound up in my own affect. The comment is made that the earlier king, Wisdom, was thought eccentric or worse in pursuing the aid of the Elderlings, for which he had later renown. Given the Six Duchies’ propensity towards emblematic names, it seems quite telling that a putative religious madman is called wise…

I ate the Frito pie; help me go get some antacid?

 

Read the previous entry in the series here.
Read the next entry in the series here.

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The next chapter, “Interludes,” opens with a brief and enigmatic statement about the Elderlings before moving into Fitz responding to a summons from Shrewd. He notes his refusal to call on his king prior to the summons, despite the imprecations of the Fool and Verity. He also notes his coldness towards Shrewd as the latter presents him a scroll that Celerity had sent with a missive from her father. Shrewd also commands that Fitz will compose a reply to be sent back that afternoon.

Shrewd also takes the time to explain himself to Fitz, a strangely warm gesture from the aging king. He still intends to see Fitz wed Celerity, looking at it as a way to offer Fitz legitimacy and a more “normal” place. Shrewd also tacitly sets aside the idea that Fitz and Molly might wed. When Fitz pens the commanded reply letter, he does so with that idea in mind, and his thoughts turn to dark places as he delivers it back as he is bidden.

Later, after making contact with Nighteyes, Fitz heads into Buckkeep Town. He shadows Molly unobtrusively and “ambushes” her with an impromptu picnic that turns into another assignation. Narrating, Fitz glosses informing Molly of matters with Shrewd and Celerity, to which she responds as could be expected: with a solid understanding of what is to come, what the political circumstances will mean for them. Fitz does not share her maturity, and he grouses after they part.

Chade summons Fitz that evening, and they confer about Shrewd’s state of health–and Fitz’s impending betrothal. Chade tries to be sympathetic, but Fitz, enrwapped in adolescent passions, cannot accept it. Fitz apologizes for his outbursts, and Chade warns him that apologies will not always suffice before telling him the reason for the summons: Fitz will be hunting Forged Ones again. They commiserate over the work to come.

The bit about forgiveness late in the chapter seems to stick with me as I read again. I know that I have had something of a mouth on me for quite a while, and there were no few times in my childhood that my lip won a fist in return, suddenly applied. There were no few times, too, that my mouthiness hurt one or more people I really ought not to have hurt, and while some of them have forgiven me my faults, there are some I know never will. There are even a few of those to whom I have apologized, to no avail. (I am arrogant or evil enough to think that some of those I have mouthed off at have deserved whatever pain I have caused them.) I regret many of those words, even those that others seem to have forgotten or passed over–but the arrogant ass that I was in my youth would not believe in such regrets.

I am glad to be less of a fool now, though I am still very much a fool.

(In case the image caption doesn’t show, it’s fitz + molly from risoria’s Tumblr, here; the image is used for commentary.)

I’ll be at a football game tonight; pick up my Frito pie?

Read the previous entry in the series here.
Read the next entry in the series here.

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Coming after, “Verity’s Ships” opens with a gloss of early military actions against the Red-Ship Raiders. It moves on to Fitz glossing the shape of his days for the rest of the season, which keep him quite busy. They also begin to include postings to the Rurisk, the first of Verity’s warships, where he learns seacraft and some of the language of the Outislanders.

At length, Fitz is able to find a private moment with Shrewd, during which he broaches the topic of marrying, thinking to wed Molly. Shrewd, however, has been approached by Celerity of Bearns and her father, Duke Brawndy, whom Fitz met earlier in the novel and seems to have impressed. Fitz attempts to speak out, but Shrewd harshly rebukes him, conflating him with his father for a moment.

Noting his heartsickness, Fitz continues relating the passage of the season, laying out the disposition of the Skilled with whom he had trained under Galen and their arrangement on the warships of the chapter’s title. It ranges to a training exercise that is ostensibly Skill-assisted, and that is interrupted by Skilled orders from Verity that direct the Rurisk to Antler Island, where a Red-Ship raid is in progress. The crew of the Rurisk joins the melee, and Fitz makes quite a showing for himself in a berserk rage that falls upon him. He does not comport himself as well in the wake of the battle as in the midst of it, and he has little time to rest; more fights follow in the succeeding days and weeks. During one such, Fitz glimpses a white-hulled ship that affects him oddly. It is not present after the battle, and others do not recall seeing it, but it remains disquieting.

Fitz continues to work the Skill with Verity, and he learns him in doing so. He also has something of a sour patch with Molly, and not because he relates Shrewd’s words to her; he does not. And when he calls on Kettricken, he finds he mulling over some thought to bring an end to the realm’s troubles.

I’ve argued before that there is a tendency, owing to Tolkien, to read fantasy novels as borrowing largely from the European medieval–particularly Celtic and Germanic Europe, and that tendency ranges to Hobb’s Elderlings novels. Such chapters as the present one help prompt reading Hobb as European medievalist fantasy, with the single-sailed clinker-built ships and some of the geographical descriptions, as well as other such tropes long present in the series.

It may be the case that the Realm of the Elderlings moves away from the European in the author’s mind as more work gets done on it. Hobb notes her own grounding in Tolkien, and Tolkien’s influence is…substantial, as many, including Luke Shelton, argue and attest. And it makes sense that earlier compositions will cleave more clearly to established patterns, both for the author’s own ease (deliberate or not) and for the audience’s. So there is some cause, even if other interpretations come out better as the series goes on.

Stand me a cup of coffee?

Read the previous entry in the series here.
Read the next entry in the series here.

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The next chapter, “Secrets,” opens with the commissioning of the warships Verity has had built. It moves to Fitz’s minimally successful hunt with Nighteyes, after which Fitz finds himself confronted by the Fool. Fitz asks the Fool after his origins, and the Fool replies as plainly as he can, noting his prophetic powers and the system that allows them to flourish. As Fitz turns the ideas over in his mind, he is taken by the damage done by the poisoning at the end of the previous novel, and he collapses.

Amid his fit, Fitz wanders Buckkeep as if drunk or fevered. Patience manages to extricate him from a potentially awkward social moment, and, later, Chade quizzes him–as well as noting another source of Fitz’s malady. Chade also lays out assignments for Fitz to carry out before dismissing him back to his bed. Fitz enjoys an assignation with Molly, instead.

The next morning sees Burrich summon Fitz for more training. It does not go well to start, fatigue telling on Fitz. But at a point in it, something clicks for Fitz, and he seems to catch the knack of what it is he needs to do.

The (partial) revelation of the Fool’s origins in the present chapter has long-reaching ramifications in the Realm of the Elderlings novels as a whole, such as will receive comment in later installments of this rereading series. For now, though, a few points worth considering come up in the Fool’s explication of himself to Fitz:

• The Fool openly acknowledging himself as a prophet confirms things that had been suggested earlier in the series. Positioning himself as such, with Fitz as the agent through which he will work change, reinforces the already-noted status of Fitz as the protagonist of the series–he can hardly not be, even without the Fool’s revelation–and puts the Fool in a seemingly similar position, if uncomfortably. It also introduces to the novel a stronger element of the fate/free will discussion that continues to pervade many, many systems of thought.
• The comments about philosophy being necessary to everyday life are, perhaps, to be expected from someone who makes a living writing; writing and reading demand thinking, which is the source and substance of philosophy. But that there is some self-interest in an author commending reading and contemplation through the voice of a protagonistic character–which the Fool is, clearly–does not mean that the advice is not good. And it is always dangerous to assume authorial intent in characters’ speech, in any event; even if Hobb does not believe what her Fool says, it remains a good thing to note.
• The comments about the value of the individual function similarly. Each of us is a part of a future recollection; each of us can affect what will come, and in ways we cannot necessarily foresee. That does not mean what we do is without value, and that is a hopeful thing to think upon.

Help me keep this going!

Read the previous entry in the series here.
Read the next entry in the series here.

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The chapter that follows, “Winterfest,” opens with a description of how the holiday of the chapter’s title is marked at Buckkeep. It moves to Fitz’s continued work on the tasks assigned him and his ruminations on the current state of Skilled practice in the Six Duchies. He soon falls asleep, though, his exertions and the medication given him overtaking him.

Nighteyes’ announcement of Molly’s arrival wakes Fitz from sleep, though. She asks him after going to see Shrewd about their nuptials and broaches the topic of rumors about his recent actions in the field. Fitz turns the questions aside, and the two enjoy another night together.

Molly leaves in the early morning, and Fitz falls asleep again, only to be roused by Burrich summoning him to his training appointment in Verity’s tower. After Burrich stalks off, the Fool calls upon Fitz, offering an apology for his earlier misdirection. He also urges Fitz to call upon Shrewd again, floating the idea that they may be united in their opposition to Regal. They confer, and Fitz reports for training.

His progress in that training is sketched in, and, once it is done, Fitz attends to his many other duties. The first of them is to call on Shrewd, as he had intended. Verity accompanies him through the Skill, noting oddities in his father’s conduct as he does so. Fitz forces his way past a putative attendant and works to set Shrewd’s chambers to rights. The attendant fetches Regal, who interferes–to an extent, before Shrewd issues his orders. Fitz departs, his mind reeling at what he has seen.

I think Hobb does well, overall, at capturing the throes of teenage romance. Fitz’s conduct and thoughts in the present chapter–and several preceding it–bear it out; the propensity towards grandiosity and dramatic declarations rings true for me, as I think has been the case for many other people. (I am not entirely pleased with how I acted in my younger days. Those who know me can probably guess why. And I do not think I am alone in it.) Looking back, both on my teenage years and their “romances” and on a series of novels I have read before, I cannot help but cringe, knowing as I do that what is coming is. For while there are some adolescent loves that linger and deepen, most teenage amorousness leads to other ends than might be desired, and it is not the case that an assassin is like to have a happy ending…at least, not in the short term.

The passage of decades can change quite a bit, however.

Care to fund my holiday events?

Read the previous entry in the series here.
Read the next entry in the series here.

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The chapter that follows, “Hunting,” opens with Fitz musing on the different teaching styles of the then-last two Skill Masters at Buckkeep. It turns then to the morning after Fitz’s assignation with Molly, when he reports to Verity. Verity gifts Fitz with a sword and reminds him that he, himself, is still but a servant, chiding Fitz for not warding his mind as he had been taught.

Verity also tasks Fitz with refining further his control over the Skill, even as he works on exterminating the nearby Forged Ones. The exercise is something of a strain for Fitz, as he works to keep his mind focused on the needed tasks and not to dwell on other matters, particularly Molly and Nighteyes

While taken with his thoughts, Fitz hears a scream and moves to investigate. He finds Forged Ones fighting over a child they have taken, with one having begun to eat her before she dies in the hands of the others. Fitz falls into a rage and attacks, Nighteyes helping him. They prevail with difficulty, and Nighteyes departs moment before riders reach Fitz.

The riders try to make sense of events, and Burrich, who is among them, tends Fitz’s wounds–with clear questions that Fitz does not answer. As Fitz debriefs afterward, Verity ruminates on Fitz’s survival and tasks Burrich to teach him fighting with an axe. Burrich agrees, but he expresses reservations about sending Fitz to do more of the work he has been doing. Verity reminds Burrich that Fitz has little choice in the matter–that none of them do. Fitz surprises both by asserting his willingness to continue.

I’ve noted before that foresight is a dominant theme in the series, making foreshadowing a common device. Having read the books before, I note with some amusement the gesture towards such foreshadowing Hobb makes in Verity’s Skilled comments to Fitz about the child Verity’s mother had used to gather information. Without spoiling too much (insofar as a novel in print for decades as I write can be spoiled), I can note that something similar happens, and more than once, to Fitz–even as he, himself, was formerly positioned to be such an actor.

I’ve also noted that I tend to read Hobb affectively. The present chapter is not an exception to that. Having a daughter who is not much older than the child described…it was not an easy read this time around. (Not that it ever has been; I’ve long been more sentimental than it’s good for me to be, and it’s gotten me into trouble more than once.) I do not find fault with Hobb for refusing to indulge in what TV Tropes describes as “Improbable Infant Survival,” but that does not mean it was comfortable for me to read it. I’m not sure what all it says about me, and I’m not sure I’m eager to find out. I am, though, eager to read on.

Care to send something my way, support my still working on this?

Read the previous entry in the series here.
Read the next entry in the series here.

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The next chapter, “Tasks,” opens with Fitz’s later musings on the winter and the state of the Six Duchies during it–not good, in the event. It moves to Fitz departing Verity’s chambers and reporting to Kettricken with Verity’s message for her to take the Queen’s Gardens. Kettricken leaps eagerly to the task, her ladies following her despite the cold, and Fitz muses on the quiet deception he is facilitating in the event.

After, Fitz takes a meal in strange solitude and goes out to Nighteyes. He proceeds thence to review the documents with which Verity had entrusted him, regarding them amid his chamber for a time in frustration before calling on Patience. There, he encounters Molly and makes something of a fool of himself to her–in front of Patience and Lacey. Patience chides him gently for the outburst after Molly makes her excuses and departs, and Fitz unburdens himself of some of his cares to her. He also conveys to her that she might go to Kettricken and help her with the Queen’s Garden.

Once he leaves Patience, he purposes to call upon Molly once again, doing so by climbing down to her window. She reluctantly admits him into her chambers as tells him that Regal has pressed upon her that a relationship would be ill-advised. In something of a rush, they consummate their love, and they part in the throes of teenaged romance the next morning.

I’m not sure, at this point, how to read the intimate interlude. Hobb does well to elide the more salacious details, certainly; a passage of erotica or outright pornography would seem out of place against the rest of the narrative. And it is the case that there has been motion throughout the series to have Fitz and Molly come together; it is not necessarily a sudden thing that they do. But Fitz does seem to force the issue a bit, which seems…squicky to my reading, anymore. (And, no, I did not always find the passage problematic. I am still not the person I should be, but I am better than I was, and I keep trying to be better, thanks.) Fitz is hardly an honorable character–being an assassin more or less precludes that, and I’ve discussed the topic at some length elsewhere–so a less-than-upright action may be in character, but I do not want to defend even a fictional offender. So there is that.

I suppose my…unease with the passage now is a sign of the ways in which I *have* changed, partly as a result of getting older, partly as a result of having had the exposures I had in graduate school and in life after. I’ll not deny there is a certain ironic orthodoxy that affected me (ironic in that it is predictably heterodoxical), but having the time to think about things that higher education offers did much to help make me more humane. Carrying that into the world outside the ivory tower is not always an easy thing, to be sure, but it does little enough good staying inside it–especially in the windowless basement rooms thereof that I shared with many, many others.

I continue to welcome your contributions.

Read the previous entry in the series here.
Read the next entry in the series here.

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The next chapter, “Lone Wolves,” opens with a brief musing on the Fool before turning to a hunting scene, with Fitz guiding the wolf cub in a failed attempt to take a white rabbit in the snow. After, Fitz guides the cub to an abandoned shack that mice have taken over, purposing to leave him there. He attempts to do so, forcefully and with regret against which he tries to steel himself.

Lost among his thoughts, Fitz is attacked by Forged Ones who purpose to eat him. He fights them, faring poorly until the wolf cub arrives and turns matters. When Fitz wakes from his exertions, the wolf cub reveals his name, Nighteyes, and their bond reasserts itself with greater intensity.

After, Fitz returns to Buckkeep and reports to Verity, whom he finds Skilling with greater intensity than is to his good. Verity, with some apology, directs Fitz to resume exterminating the arriving Forged Ones. The two also confer about Kettricken, and Verity notes the consuming passion for the Skill. Verity also asks about Fitz’s injuries before bidding him be careful. They eat together, and Fitz considers what is likely to come. They also confer about the Fool and the dearth of Skilled people who should be present but are not. Verity assigns Fitz a mapping task and bids him report early the next morning.

As I read the chapter again, I found myself annoyed by the continued treatment of Kettricken as a childish figure who has to be given tasks to distract her. The fight against the Forged Ones she led, among many others, should have served to Verity as an indication that she is a woman of her own volition and no mean leader, not some idle arm-ornament. And while some allowance might be made to Verity for the thought-disrupting effects of any addiction–and the Skill is repeatedly asserted to be addictive–it still rankles that he looks on the leader his wife is as in need of distraction.

Fitz, too, ought to know better. Indeed, in the chapter, he notes knowing Kettricken better than her husband does. Too, he has demonstrated in the text that he has no small degree of political acumen; his specific suggestion speaks to that acumen, in fact, as well as serving as a bit of revenge for wrongs done him in the previous novel. And while it may be the case that the power difference between him and Verity accounts for some of his behavior, Fitz has proven willing to talk back to power before; he seems to have forgotten things he has already learned, no less so than Verity. It’s something that vexes me as I read again, though I will concede it may be me reading with more affect than I ought to once again.

Fall is coming; help me lay in supplies for the rest of the year.