Читать книгу The Rain Wild Chronicles: The Complete 4-Book Collection - Робин Хобб - Страница 36

He awoke before dawn, cradled in a warm cocoon of contentment. Life was good. Leftrin lay still in the dark, enjoying it for a few long moments before letting his mind start enumerating the tasks of the day. Tarman was as still as he ever got, nosed up onto the mudbank. Sometimes it seemed to him that his ship grew more thoughtful when it was pulled up on the riverbank, as if he were dreaming of other days and times. He could hear and feel the gentle tug of the river’s backwater current on the aft end of the ship, but mostly all was still. It was quieter than when he anchored or tied up in the river, almost as if Tarman himself were dozing on the sunny bank.

The bedding smelled sweet, of the cologne that Alise Finbok wore, but also of Alise herself. He rolled his face into the pillow and breathed deeply of her scent. Then he grinned at his own foolishness. He was as infatuated as a beardless boy who had just discovered that women were wonderfully different from men. The giddiness that had passed him by as a youth now spun him delightfully, infecting every moment of his day. Thinking of her freckled, speckled face made him smile. Her hair, the colour of a hummer’s breast, turned into tiny curls all around her brow when it escaped from her pins. The times she had reached out and taken his arm when something frightened or alarmed her always made him feel as if he were taller and stronger than he had ever been in his life.

There was no future to it. He knew that in every corner of his yearning, aching heart. When he thought of how it must end, he felt despair. But for now, this morning, on the dawn of carrying her off up the river on a journey that might be weeks or even months long, he was happy and excited. It was a mood that hummed through the ship, infecting the crew as well. Tarman would be very pleased to be underway. Leftrin still considered it a ridiculous mission, a journey to nowhere herding reluctant dragons. Yet the pay the Council had offered was excellent, and the opportunity to take his ship and crew beyond the boundaries of what had been explored was something he’d always dreamed about. To have a woman like Alise not only appear in his life, but suddenly be given him as a companion for the voyage was good fortune beyond his ability to imagine.

He took another deep breath of her fragrance, hugged his pillow and sat up. Time to face the day. He wanted to make an early start, yet he would wait for the delivery of the supplies he had specially ordered in the hopes of making her more comfortable. He scratched his chest, chose a shirt from the hooks near his bunk and pulled it on. He still wore his trousers from yesterday. Barefoot, he padded out of his stateroom and into the galley. He stirred the embers in the small stove and put yesterday’s coffee to reheat. He wiped out a coffee mug and set it on the table. Outside the small windows of the deck-house, the world was hesitantly venturing toward day. The deep shadows of the surrounding forest still cloaked the boat and shore in dimness.

He felt a small vibration and then that prickle of awareness. Someone, a stranger to Tarman, was on the deck of his ship. Leftrin stood silently. From a nearby equipment box, he picked up the large hardwood fid used for mending and splicing the heaviest lines. He weighed the heft of it in his hand, smiled to himself and moved quietly as the cat to the door. He eased it open. The cool air of morning flowed in. In the upper reaches of the forest, birds were calling. In the lower levels, bats were still heading home to roost. He stepped out on his deck and began a noiseless patrol of his vessel.

He found no one, but when he came back to the door of the deckhouse, a small scroll rested on the deck there. His heart gave a lurch as he stooped down to pick it up. The paper of the scroll was soft and thick; it smelled of a foreign land, bitterly spicy. He carried it back into his stateroom and shut the door. The wax that sealed it was a plain brown blob; no signet press betrayed the owner. He flicked it off and unrolled the small scroll. He read it by the grey light seeping in his small window.

‘There are no coincidences. I’ve manoeuvred you into place. Lend your support to the one that I’ve arranged to be there. You will know him soon enough. You know what he seeks. A fortune rides on this, and the blood of my family. If all goes well, the fortune will be shared with you. If it does not go well, my family will not be the only ones to mourn.’

It was not signed, but no signature was needed. Sinad Arich. Months ago, he had given the foreigner passage to Trehaug, and almost as soon as the boat had docked, the Chalcedean merchant had vanished. He hadn’t asked for passage back down the river. Two days later, when the Tarman was loaded with cargo and Leftrin had heard nothing from or about the man, they had departed. The foreign trader had left few signs of his passage on the Tarman. There had been a shirt that Leftrin had dropped overboard and some smoking herbs that he’d appropriated for his own use. The crew never asked what had become of their passenger, and Leftrin hadn’t made much noise about his leaving Trehaug that day. The man’s papers had been in order and he’d sold him passage up the river. That was what he intended to say if anyone ever asked him about the merchant. But no one ever had, and Leftrin had hoped he had set that misadventure behind him.

He’d hoped in vain. He wished he’d never heard of that damn Chalcedean merchant, wished he’d found a way to throw him overboard a year ago. Sinad Arich had haunted his nightmares since he’d last seen the man. After all that time, Leftrin had almost believed he’d seen the last of him, that the man had only wanted to use him once and then let him go.

But that was what it was to deal with Chalced or any Chalcedean. Once they knew you had a weakness, a secret spot of any kind, they’d hook into you, exploit you until you were either killed in the process or turned on them and killed them. He gritted his teeth together. Only a few moments ago, he’d been doltishly happy at the prospect of travelling upriver with the object of his fascination. Now he wondered who else would be travelling with him, and how relentless they would be in their threats. He wondered if he would have to kill someone on this journey, and if he did, how he would do it and if he would be able to keep it concealed from Alise.

It saddened him. He suspected that if she knew half the things he’d done in his life, she’d have nothing to do with him. He didn’t like that he had to conceal part of what he was to enjoy her companionship, but he would. He’d do whatever he must to have what little time with her that he could. He was already at an immense disadvantage with such a fine lady. Here he was, a Rain Wilds riverman with little more than a boat to his name. She couldn’t even imagine what a unique and wonderful boat the Tarman was. She couldn’t possibly see his ship as his fortune. So he didn’t know why she seemed to like him. He worked hard and expected he always would. He had no fine home to present to her. His clothes were rags compared to the garments of her dandified escort; he wore no rings. Before she had set foot on his ship, he’d had little more ambition than to continue doing what he’d always done: carrying freight shipments up and down the river, and making enough to pay his crew, and to have a good meal when his schedule allowed him to overnight in a town. He’d had his chance to make a fortune selling off that wizardwood. He could have been a wealthy man now, with a palatial home in Jamaillia or Chalced. He didn’t regret the decision he’d made; it was the only right thing he could have done.

Yet he wondered at how small a life he’d been willing to settle for. He wished in vain that he’d foreseen that some day such a woman might walk into his life. If he had, perhaps he would have saved the sort of wealth that might impress her. But what could he have acquired that could compare with whatever her rich husband in Bingtown offered her?

He looked at the little scroll again. He wondered if he should have killed the Chalcedean merchant and dropped him over the side before they ever reached Trehaug. He didn’t think of it casually; he’d only killed one man, long ago, and that had been over a game of chance gone wrong, with accusations that he was cheating. He hadn’t been, and when the fellow and his friends had made it clear that they’d kill him before they let him walk off with his winnings, he’d beaten one man unconscious, killed another and fled the third. He didn’t feel proud that he’d done so, only competent that he’d survived. It was another decision that he refused to regret.

So now as he contemplated retroactive murder, he did it only in a ‘what if’ frame of mind. If he’d killed the merchant, he would not be standing here now holding this threatening scroll, he wouldn’t have to wonder which of the people that would be accompanying him on his journey was a traitor to the Traders, and he wouldn’t have to speculate on whether Sinad Arich had really had a finger in his winning this sweet plum of a contract. And, he thought, as he reduced the scroll to shreds of fibre and dropped them out of the window, he wouldn’t be worrying if he’d have to do something that might cause Alise to think less of him.

‘Time to get up!’

‘Get up, pack your stuff, rouse your dragons!’

‘Get up. Time to get on your way.’

Thymara opened her eyes to the grey of distant dawn. She yawned and abruptly wished she had never agreed to any of this. Around her, she heard the grumbles of the other rousted keepers. The ones doing the rousting were the men who had accompanied them from Trehaug to here. Their duties would come to an end today and apparently they could not wait for them to be over. The sooner the keepers rose, woke their dragons and began their first day’s journey, the sooner the men who had brought them here could turn around and go back to their homes.

Thymara yawned again. She supposed she’d better get up if she wanted anything to eat before the day started. She’d never known just how much and how fast boys could eat until she’d had to share a common cook-pot with them. She sat up slowly, clutching her blanket to her, but the chill morning air still reached in to touch her.

‘You awake?’ Rapskal asked her. Ever since they’d left Trehaug, he’d slept as close to her as she would allow him. One morning she’d awakened to find him snuggled up against her back, his arm around her waist and his head pillowed against her. The warmth had been welcome, but not the awakening to sniggers. Kase and Boxter had teased them relentlessly. Rapskal had grinned rakishly but uncertainly; she suspected he wasn’t quite sure what the joke was. She’d resolutely ignored them. She told herself that Rapskal’s need to be near her had more to do with a kitten’s desire to sleep close to something familiar than any amorous intent. There was no attraction between them. Not that she would have acted on it if there had been. What was forbidden was forbidden. She knew that. They all knew that.

But she wondered if they all accepted it as deeply as she did.

Greft had strongly hinted that he did not. He was going to make his own rules, he’d said. So. What about Jerd? Would she keep the rules they had all grown up with?

As she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, she tried not to notice who slept adjacent to whom, nor to wonder what any of it meant. After all, everyone had to sleep somewhere. If Jerd always spread her blankets next to Tats, it could simply mean that she felt safe sleeping beside him. And if Greft always found an excuse to try to engage her in talk when the others were getting ready to sleep, it might mean only that he thought she was intelligent.

She glanced over at him now. He was, as usual, among the first to rise and was already folding his bedding. He slept without a shirt; she’d been surprised to discover that a lot of the boys did. Jerd, who had brothers, was surprised that she didn’t know that, but Thymara could not recall that she’d ever seen her father half-clothed. She watched Greft as he scratched his scaled back. She knew that feeling of relentless itching. It meant that the scales were growing thicker and harder. She watched him bend his spine slightly so that he could ripple the scales up and scratch beneath them. If he was self-conscious at all about how heavily the Rain Wilds had marked him, he didn’t show it. This morning it almost seemed as if he were showing off his body.

Her mind flitted back to his words the night he had all but driven Tats away. Greft wanted to make his own rules, he’d said. And he had already begun to do just that. She was a little surprised at how easily he had made himself the leader of their group. All he had to do was behave as if he were. All the younger ones had fallen in with him immediately. Only a few remained outside his spell. Tats was one of them. She suspected that if Greft had not made his move so quickly and so definitively labelled Tats as an outsider, Tats would have moved up to a position of leadership. Tats, she thought, probably knew that as well. Jerd was another one who regarded Greft with suspicion, or at least reservation. It’s because we are both female, Thymara thought to herself. It’s because of the way he looks at us, as if he’s always evaluating us. She’d even seen it the first time he looked at Sylve; she’d almost seen him dismiss her as too young.

It was oddly flattering yet a bit frightening to have him look at her. As if he could read her thought or feel her gaze, he suddenly turned his head. She looked down, but it was too late. He knew she’d been staring at him. From the corner of her eye, as he stretched yet again and rolled his shoulders, she saw him smiling at her. She spoke to Rapskal before Greft could start a conversation with her. ‘Are you awake? We’re supposed to start our journey today.’

‘I’m awake,’ the boy said. ‘But why do we have to start so early? The dragons aren’t going to like being made to move before the day warms up.’

Greft responded before she could. ‘Because the good people of Cassarick are very much looking forward to us being gone. Once we’ve moved the dragons out, they’ll put docks along the shore here. They’ll probably repair or perhaps properly build the locks they attempted to build for the serpents. Done right, it would allow them to bring larger ships here from Trehaug. Improved shipping could mean that they could better exploit whatever they can dig out of the old city. And with the dragons gone, they’ll feel safer about coming and going and digging deeper and closer to this place. To answer your question more directly, Rapskal, it’s about money. The sooner we take the dragons out of here, the sooner the Traders can stop spending money on dragons and make more money from the buried city.’

Rapskal greeted his words with the furrowed brow and slight pout that meant he was thinking hard. ‘But … why do they have to make us wake up so early? Will one morning make that much difference?’

Greft shook his head, muttered something uncomplimentary and turned away from the boy. A shadow of hurt flickered across Rapskal’s face. And Thymara felt a moment of absolute dislike for Greft. It startled her in its intensity.

‘Let’s get something to eat before we have to get going,’ Thymara suggested quickly. ‘This will be the last day that they feed the dragons for us. Beginning tomorrow, we’re going to have to provide for them. And hope they can do a bit of providing for themselves.’

Rapskal’s face brightened at her words. It took so little to make him happy. Her words didn’t have to be kind, even, just not cruel. She tried not to wonder what his early life had been like that mere neutrality seemed like friendship to him. She began folding her blankets up with a small sigh. Of course, even neutral comments attracted Rapskal. Talking to him directly had probably earned her a full day of his close and chattering company.

‘I’ve been worrying about how we’re going to feed our dragons. I think the dragons can find some food for themselves. Dead stuff should be easy for them, and maybe big fish, too. Or big dead fish, that might be easiest of all for them. My Heeby likes fish, and she doesn’t much care if she gets it alive or dead.’

‘Heeby. Is that her real dragon name?’ Tats had suddenly appeared behind Rapskal. He had his pack already loaded and on his back. He’d shaved, too. So he’d been awake for a while. He didn’t shave often, only about once a week. Thymara had seen him do it once since they’d left Trehaug. He didn’t seem very confident of his technique; he crouched with a small mirror balanced on his knee and scraped carefully with a folding razor. It had surprised her to see him shaving; she had realized then that she still thought of him as more boy than man. She glanced over at Rapskal. She supposed that she thought of all of them as boys still, with the possible exception of Greft. Rapskal, she realized, was probably close to her own age. Not a boy at all, really. Until he spoke.

‘No. I don’t think Heeby had a name before I got here. But she likes me and she likes the name I gave her, so I think it’s going to be all right.’ Rapskal suddenly halted where he stood. Then he smiled indulgently. ‘Rats! I thought about her too loud and waked her up. I’d better eat fast and get over there. She’s hungry. And I got to tell her again that today is the day we’re going up the river. She forgets stuff pretty easy.’

He crumpled his blanket up and stuffed it into his pack, then looked around the area where he’d slept. He snatched up his extra shirt, pushed it into the top of his pack, and then said, ‘Time to eat,’ and headed off to the main campfire. Tats and Thymara watched him go.

‘I think Rapskal and Heeby are pretty well matched,’ Tats observed with a smile. He stooped down and picked up a stray sock Rapskal had dropped. ‘I wish he weren’t so careless,’ he added more soberly.

‘Give it to me. I’ll make sure he gets it.’

‘No, I’ve got it,’ Tats replied easily. ‘I’m headed that way anyway. You’re right. We’d better enjoy our last easy meal.’

Thymara put her neatly-folded blanket into her pack and did a quick check of the campsite. No. She hadn’t forgotten anything. All the others were beginning to stir. Greft, she noticed, was first in line by the porridge pot. She’d watched how he ate; he’d be fast, and get a second serving before some of the others had even had a first one. His bad manners annoyed her even if she wondered if she were a fool for not copying him. A couple of the boys had started to do so, over the last day or so. Kase and Boxter imitated him in most things, she’d noted. It made her uneasy to see them trail after him now, food bowls brimming. When Greft sat down to eat, they squatted to either side of him. She was surprised to see that Nortel had a black eye and a bruised face. ‘What happened to him?’ she asked.

‘Got in a scuffle with one of the other lads,’ Tats said briefly. ‘What’s going to become of the unclaimed dragons?’ Tats’ question distracted her from staring at Nortel.

‘What?’

‘There are two dragons that don’t have keepers. You must have noticed.’

Food bowls in hand, they fell into line behind Nortel and Sylve. The girl immediately turned to join the conversation. ‘The silver one and the dirty one,’ she filled in.

‘I think if he were cleaned up a bit, he’d be copper,’ Thymara mused. She’d noticed them. She’d almost chosen one of them when it looked like Skymaw was going to refuse her. ‘They’re both in bad condition,’ she added, and then forced herself to voice what she knew they were all thinking. ‘Without keepers to help them along, they won’t last long on this journey. I’m not even sure they’ll follow us when we leave. Neither one looks very intelligent.’

‘You’re right about that. I saw the silver snuggling up to the barge last night, as if it were another dragon. It’s not there this morning, so maybe it figured it out. Still. Not very intelligent. But I doubt that the Cassarick Council will allow us to leave any dragons behind,’ Tats said. ‘If we did, I suspect they’d both be dead within a week. Somehow I doubt they’d continue feeding them once we were gone.’

‘That’s mean,’ said Sylve. ‘They’ve been stingy and cruel to these dragons for a long time. My poor Mercor says he can’t remember a time when dragons were so badly treated by humans or Elderlings.’

Nortel nodded wordlessly. The man dishing the porridge glopped a scoop into his bowl. Nortel held his bowl steadily there until the man grudgingly added a bit more. Sylve stepped up to take her place, holding her bowl over the cauldron of porridge. It bobbed as it received its load.

‘Well,’ Tats said reluctantly, ‘If we just let those two tag along after us and don’t do anything for them, we’ll be letting them die just as surely as if we left them here to be starved.’

‘They aren’t fit to survive,’ Alum observed. He was in line behind Tats. ‘My Arbuc may not be bright, but he’s fast and physically healthy. That’s why I chose him. I thought he had the best chance of surviving the journey.’

‘The midwife said I wasn’t fit to survive,’ Thymara said quietly as her bowl was filled with porridge. She trailed after Sylve to a pile of hard bread rolls set out on a clean towel. Each girl chose one and then moved on.

‘We live in a hard land. A hard land requires hard rules,’ Alum said, but he didn’t sound quite as certain as he had a few moments before.

‘I’ll take on the copper one,’ Tats said quietly. The keepers were settling into a circle to eat. ‘I’ll clean him up a bit and get some of the parasites off him before we leave this morning.’

‘I’ll help you.’ Thymara hadn’t noticed Jerd, but there she was, sitting down carefully next to Tats. She balanced her chunk of bread on one knee, then held her bowl in one hand and her spoon in the other to eat.

‘I’ll take the silver,’ Thymara declared recklessly. Somehow she didn’t think it would sit well with Skymaw. She suspected the dragon would be jealous of any attention she gave the creature. Well, let her see how it felt, she thought, almost vindictively.

‘I’ll help you get his tail bandaged up,’ Sylve offered.

‘And I can get some fish for him, maybe,’ Rapskal said as he wedged himself into their circle between Tats and Thymara, blithely unaware that he might be intruding. He dug into his porridge with fervour. ‘Never got porridge for breakfast at home,’ he announced suddenly through a full mouth. ‘Grain was too expensive for my family. We always had soup for breakfast. Or gourdcakes.’

Almost all the keepers were present now, all crouched or sitting with bowls and bread. Several nodded.

‘Sometimes we had porridge with honey,’ Sylve said. ‘But not often,’ she added, as if embarrassed to admit that her family had been able to afford such things.

‘We usually had fruit, whatever my father and I had gathered the day before and hadn’t sold,’ Thymara said, and was ambushed by a wave of homesickness. She looked around herself suddenly. What was she doing here, sitting on the hard ground, eating porridge and preparing to depart upriver? For a moment, none of it made sense, and the world seemed to rock around her as she realized how far she was from home and family.

‘Thymara?’

She nearly dropped her spoon at the man’s voice behind her. She turned and found Sedric standing awkwardly at the edge of their circle. He was impeccably groomed and a fragrance almost like perfume floated on the air. ‘Yes?’ she answered him stupidly.

‘I don’t mean to rush your meal, but we are told that the departure time is imminent. I wondered if you could possibly come now to do some translating for me. Alise is already with the dragon …’

He let his words trail off. Probably the look on her face had silenced him. She looked aside and tried to calm the sudden jealousy she felt. Alise was already up and talking with Skymaw? This early in the day? Yesterday, when she and Sedric had returned, the light was waning. As the day lost its warmth, the dragons became more lethargic. By the time Thymara and Sedric reached Alise and Skymaw, the dragon plainly wished to be left alone to sleep. She had not been too tired, however, to gulp down the fish they brought her, Thymara recalled wryly. She had felt a great deal of satisfaction at Alise’s unconcealed astonishment at the size of the fish, and her awe at how quickly the dragon devoured it. While Skymaw ate, Thymara had won her grudging permission for Sedric to be present when Alise talked to her. Afterward, Skymaw had immediately headed for the dragons’ sleeping area. Thymara had bid Sedric and Alise good night and watched them go back to the beached barge.

She had noted how Alise took Sedric’s arm, and how he carried all her supplies for her, and wondered what that meant. He’d said he was her assistant, but she sensed there was more between them than that. She wondered if secretly they were lovers. The thought had sent a strange thrill through her, and then she had felt ashamed of herself. It was no business of hers if they were. Everyone knew that Bingtown folk lived by their own rules.

‘Translating?’ Greft stood, coming to his feet with a smooth and easy motion that was still somehow challenging. It jerked Sedric’s attention to him.

The Bingtown man seemed startled at the question. So was Thymara. ‘She said she could help me understand what the dragon was saying so that I could take notes.’ When Greft continued to stare at him, Sedric added, ‘I seem to have an unusual handicap. When the dragons speak, I don’t understand them. I only hear animal noises. Thymara told me yesterday she might be able to help me. Or am I taking her away from other duties?’

It took Thymara a moment to comprehend that Greft’s stance had made Sedric think he controlled her in some way and that Sedric must ask his permission for her to go with him. She tucked her unfinished bread in her pocket and stood with her empty bowl. ‘I have no other duties at the moment, Sedric. Let me put my bowl and spoon away and I’ll come now.’

‘Didn’t I just hear you say that you’d take care of the silver? Someone has to bandage his tail and try to form a bond with him.’

Greft spoke as if he were her superior, reminding her of a neglected task.

She turned to face him squarely and spoke clearly. ‘I’ll do what I said I’d do, in my own time, Greft. No one put you in charge of me, or of the dragons in general. I didn’t hear you volunteer to take on an extra dragon. Only Tats.’

She had meant it as a rebuke to him. Too late she saw that she had brought Tats and Greft back into direct confrontation. Tats stood and rolled his shoulders as if loosening them. He might have been sitting still too long, but to Thymara, it looked as if he prepared himself for a possible fight. ‘That’s right. I did. Sylve, if you need help with the silver’s tail, let me know. Rapskal, it would be good if you could find him a fish or any extra food. I’m going to go say hello to my green, and then I’ll check on the dirty copper one to see what I can do for him. You go with Sedric, Thymara. We can manage without you for now.’

She watched Sedric’s eyes dart from Greft to Tats, and suddenly knew he was wondering just who was in charge here. Of her. She felt a flush of anger at both of them. It made her sharp. ‘Thank you, Tats, but I said I’d do it and I will. I don’t need anyone’s help. Or permission.’

The look on his face made her realize she’d spoken more harshly than she intended. She’d only meant to assert that no one was in charge of her except herself. It was made worse by the smug look on Greft’s face. She ground her teeth. In less than two days, she’d gone from being mildly infatuated with Greft and flattered by his attention to actively disliking him. She knew he was manipulating the situation, but could not seem to escape his puppet strings. Now everyone would think she was at odds with Tats, when she wasn’t. Or at least, didn’t want to be. Jerd was looking at the ground but Thymara knew she was smiling. Tats was turning aside from her rather stiffly and there was nothing else to do but follow Sedric. Even he seemed aware of the awkwardness as she walked away with him.

‘I didn’t mean to cause you any problems,’ he apologized.

‘You didn’t,’ she said shortly. Then she took a breath and shook her head. ‘I’m sorry. That came out wrong. Honestly, you didn’t cause any problem. Greft is the problem, and sometimes Tats. Greft wants to be the leader of the dragon keepers, so he just acts as if he is and hopes everyone will fall into line. And it’s so infuriating that some of them do! The truth is, no one was put in charge among us; we’re all free to do our own jobs. But Greft is very good at causing discord among those who refuse to concede to him. Like Tats and me.’

‘I see.’ He nodded as if he actually did.

‘Usually Tats and I get along very well. Then Greft came along, and he just seems to enjoy making trouble. And manipulating people. Sometimes it seems that if he can’t make us do what he wants, he focuses on making us as miserable as possible. At first, I thought he liked me. He behaves as if he can’t stand for me to have a friend, like it makes him less important. It’s almost as if he tries to drive a wedge between Tats and me. Why are some people like that?’

She hadn’t expected him to have an answer, but he looked startled, as if she had asked him something of great significance. When he answered, his words came slowly. ‘Maybe because we let them be that way.’

Sedric felt as if he’d been hit in the back of the head. Twice. First by the glimpse of the extraordinary young man who’d seemed to dispute his right to ask Thymara to translate for him. He’d never seen such a person, at least not unveiled and unhooded. Most people marked as strongly by the Rain Wilds as Greft was went veiled. But Greft didn’t. Was that a defiance of custom, or had they travelled far enough up the Rain Wilds River that the locals no longer cared what outsiders thought of them?

There had been a definite reptilian cast to his features that somehow only lent power to his presence. His blue eyes had gleamed like polished lapis lazuli beneath his finely scaled brows. The austere lines of his face reminded Sedric of a sculpture, save that this was no cold stone. He was closer to an animal than anyone Sedric had ever met. He’d felt he could almost smell him, as if the dominance Greft sought to assert were a musk emanating from him. Even his voice had held an inhuman tenor, a hum that reminded Sedric of a bow drawn across dark strings. The scales repelled him and the voice attracted him. No wonder the girl at his side was so agitated by his presence. Anyone would be.

Even Hest. He and Hest would have collided like antlered bucks battling for territory. Even as that thought occurred to him, the girl had asked that telling question. It had snapped a stinging realization into his mind. Hest didn’t like him being friends with Alise. Hest didn’t want him to have conversations with her or have opinions about her. She was supposed to be something he’d surrendered to Hest, a part of his past he’d given to the man when he suggested that marrying her would put an end to his problem with his parents. He didn’t like thinking of all the implications of that. He pushed aside the thought of other friendships he’d neglected for Hest’s, even how he’d alienated his father by taking the position with Hest rather than striking out on his own or following his father into his business.

He forced himself to focus on the business at hand. He glanced over at the annoyed girl stalking along beside him. ‘I’m sorry I created problems for you.’

She snorted in amusement. ‘Oh, you didn’t create them. They came with who I am, and multiplied when I signed a contract to do this. That’s all.’ She cleared her throat and he could almost see her wrench the topic to one side. ‘Why is Alise awake so early for this?’

‘She’s eager, I suppose. Once we start to travel, I suspect she’ll have little time for chatting with the dragons.’ That wasn’t the truth. He’d wakened Alise and suggested to her that she attempt an interview before the day’s travel began. She’d been very willing, appearing fully dressed only a few minutes later. He was hoping against hope that they would both have all they needed before the dragons actually departed. That hope was fading now, but this was his final chance. If the results of this morning’s ‘interview’ were as lacklustre as what she’d recounted to him last night, perhaps he could persuade her that she’d learn more by remaining in Cassarick for a few days and studying the ruins there. If luck favoured him, perhaps they’d still find a way to connect with Captain Trell and journey home on Paragon.

‘Or it could be that she’ll find she has far more time than she can actually fill. I suspect this expedition is going to take a lot longer than they told us it would. I don’t think anyone actually knows where we are going, and the folk who aren’t going with us don’t much care, as long as we take the dragons with us when we leave.’

Sedric thought that summed it up nicely, but it hardly seemed kind to say so. He tried to find a way to herd the conversation back to something he’d overheard earlier. When inspiration didn’t strike, he simply pushed it there. ‘So. In addition to the blue dragon, you’ll be taking care of a silver one?’

‘So I said,’ she admitted. She sounded as if she regretted it now.

‘Tats said the dragon was injured? Something about his tail?’

‘I haven’t taken a close look at it, but he has some sort of wound there and it looks infected. The dragons are fairly immune to the acidity of the river water, as are the water birds and fish. As long as their hides are intact, they do fine. But the water eats away at open sores. So we need to clean the injury, bandage it well, and somehow make sure he doesn’t get his tail in the water if we have to do any wading. And I consider it very likely that we will.’

Alise and the blue dragon were walking by the river. The dragon made her seem tiny. He knew that Thymara had spotted them as well, for the girl quickened her pace. He deliberately walked more slowly, holding her back. What he had to say to her was not for Alise’s ears. ‘I’ve always had an interest in animals and medicine, and dragons in particular. Perhaps I could be of some assistance in helping the poor thing.’

Thymara shot him a startled look. ‘You?’

It rather stung. ‘Well, why not me?’

‘I just … well, you can’t even understand them when you hear them speak. And you’re so, well, particular. Clean, I guess I mean. It’s hard for me to imagine you dealing with a muddy dragon with an infected tail.’

He put a smile on his face. ‘You’ve only just met me, Thymara. I think you’ll find there’s a lot more to me than meets the eye.’ That at least was true!

‘Well, I suppose if you want to help, you can. But first I’ll translate while Alise talks to Skymaw. I don’t think that will be for long, for they’ll be bringing the dragons’ food soon, and I know Skymaw will want to eat just as much as the others. But after they’ve been fed, I want to check on the silver and see what I can do for him.’

‘Perfect. I’ll gather my equipment and come with you then.’

‘Equipment?’

‘I’ve some basic medical supplies I brought with us for this journey. Lint and bandages. Sharp knives, if we need them. Alcohol for cleaning wounds.’ And for preserving specimens. With a bit of luck, he might have a vial of dragon scales before they even left the beach. Sedric smiled at her reassuringly.

It was not going well with the dragons. Alise knew it and the sense of impending failure burdened her. Why had she ever imagined that it would be easy to talk with dragons? Yet in her dreams, when she arrived at the Rain Wilds, the creatures had sensed a kinship with her and opened their hearts and memories to her. Well, that fantasy certainly wasn’t coming true.

‘Can you share with me any of your ancestral memories?’ she asked the dragon. She phrased it that way out of despair. Skymaw, as her keeper called her, had neatly deflected every question she’d asked of her.

‘I doubt it. You are only a human and I am a dragon. In all likelihood, it would be impossible for you to ever share the remotest idea of what it is to be a dragon, let alone comprehend any of my memories.’

Skymaw dashed her hopes yet again. And she did it with a well modulated voice that was treacly with courtesy and kindness. Her lovely eyes spun as she spoke to Alise, and Alise’s heart yearned for a bond with this creature. She knew she was falling under the dragon’s glamour; she recognized the hopelessness of the unrequited worship she felt for the dragon. Yet she could not help herself. The more the dragon patronized and insulted her, the more she longed to win her regard. It didn’t help that she’d read of such things in her old scrolls. One could read about addiction and still fall prey to it.

She made a final desperate attempt. ‘Do you think you will ever answer any of my questions?’

The dragon regarded her in silence. Without moving, she seemed to come closer to Alise. Alise was flooded with a mawkish love for the creature. If only she could spend all her days in service to the dragon, she would be happy. She had been right to come to the Rain Wilds, and if she did not accompany this dragon up the river all of her life would have been a meaningless tragedy. Skymaw was her destiny. No other relationship could fulfil her as this one—

As abruptly as a dropped doll hits the floor, Alise jolted back to the summer day on the riverbank. ‘They’re bringing the food,’ the dragon announced suddenly, and Alise actually felt the creature dismiss her. It had been a glamour. The dragon had been toying with her. She could not deny it, and she should have felt shamed to have fallen to her so easily. Instead she felt only a wretched longing to regain Skymaw’s attention. It echoed unpleasantly how Hest had once made her feel, and that memory of utter humiliation finally broke the spell. Something hardened in her and she turned away from the dragon. All that she had longed for was never going to be, not with Hest and her life in Bingtown, and not with her foolish dreams of journeying with the dragons. Abruptly she decided it was time to go home.

Did the dragon know she had lost her worshipper? It almost seemed that way, for on the way to the barrows of carrion, Skymaw suddenly halted and looked back at her. Alise looked resolutely away. No. She would not fall under her spell again. It was over.

‘Oh, dear. It looks as if we’re too late.’

Sedric’s voice startled her. It was even more surprising to discover that he had arrived with Skymaw’s keeper in tow. The girl looked as disapproving of her as ever; or perhaps that was an assumption on Alise’s part. The way her exposure to the Rain Wilds had disfigured her, it was hard to read the girl’s expressions.

‘Skymaw was hungry and decided to go and eat rather than to answer questions,’ she explained needlessly. She glanced at the girl, wishing she weren’t there, and then spoke anyway. Her words came out stiff, as if the lump in her throat had squeezed all inflection out of them. ‘Sedric, I’ve discovered that you were right. Brashen Trell and his wife were right. Even Hest was right. I’m not making any headway in speaking to the dragon. She delights in thwarting me.’ She formed the last and most difficult words. ‘I’ve put us both through so much to get here. I foolishly signed an agreement to go upriver. And now I wonder if I will gain any real knowledge of dragons at all from this experience. That creature is so, so—’

‘Exasperating,’ Thymara supplied quietly, with a small smile.

‘Exactly!’ Alise replied. And to her surprise, found herself smiling back at the girl.

‘Well, at least I know that it isn’t only me.’ Thymara cocked her head at Alise and asked shyly, ‘Does this mean you’re giving up and going back to Bingtown?’

Alise could not miss the mixed emotions that flickered across Sedric’s face. Hope seemed to be a strong one, but anxiety was there as well. He spoke before she could. ‘It’s perfectly understandable if you’ve decided not to make the journey, Alise. I can have us packed and unloaded from Leftrin’s barge in a very short time. But before we do that, I promised Thymara that I’d assist her with one of the other dragons. An injured one.’

‘The silver,’ Thymara said quietly.

Alise looked from him to Thymara and back again, trying to make sense of his words. She had never known him to have any fondness for or interest in animals. Oh, he shared some of her scholastic interest in dragons, but she had never seen him pet a dog or talk to his horse. And now he was going to assist this girl in doctoring a dragon? There was something here, and she felt she stood at the edge of a strange and perhaps dark current. Could he possibly be interested in the girl? She was so young and so peculiar looking. It would be very inappropriate. She spoke without thinking.

‘I’ll come along. Perhaps it is only Skymaw that is so difficult. You are right, Sedric. I should not give up so easily, especially after I gave my word to the Council. Shall we go right now?’

He looked uncomfortable. ‘Perhaps later. I don’t think we should bother him while he’s eating.’

‘Actually, that might be a good opportunity,’ the Rain Wilds girl suggested. ‘It may be that while he is distracted with eating, we can look at his injuries.’

‘But I’ve heard one should never bother an animal while it is eating!’ Sedric protested.

‘Ordinary animals, perhaps,’ Thymara agreed. ‘But the silver is a dragon. And while he looks very stupid, perhaps there is a kernel of intelligence there. If I’m going to help care for him on the upriver journey, the sooner I get to know something of him, the better.’

‘Let’s go then,’ Alise agreed.

‘Of course,’ Sedric replied weakly.