by Robin Hobb
Day the 5th of the Grain Moon
Year the 6th the Independent Alliance of Traders
From Detozi, Keeper of the Birds, Trehaug
To Kim, Keeper of the Birds, Cassarick
Has it escaped your tiny little brain that the message you received from Erek contained information about a special feed that may enhance the health and longevity of the pigeon stocks? Did it never occur to you that by attaching this information on an official matter to a bird already carrying a message, he was merely being more efficient? The idea that he and I share a personal correspondence is rather laughable, considering that we have never even met each other. If you wish to draw that missive to the attention of the Councils, oh, please do! It will give us all a chance to discuss the sorry state of the coops at Cassarick, the death of over twenty promising squabs because a snake was able to enter your coops, and the rumors that squab has been on your family’s menu with a peculiar frequency since you assumed your post.
Detozi
Chapter Twelve
Among Dragons
He couldn’t believe she had done it. Just couldn’t believe it. This woman was not the Alise Kincarron he had grown up with! She wasn’t even the Alise Finbok he’d frequently dined with for the last five years. He wasn’t sure where this domineering vixen had come from, but he’d be glad to see her depart. If it hadn’t been so important for him to accompany her when she visited the dragons, he never would have allowed her to go this far.
He leaned on the railing beside her. To her left, the disgusting Captain Leftrin matched her posture, so close that he was practically touching her, while she spouted her infatuated nonsense about the dragons. Well, let her have a day or two of it. Angry as he felt toward her right now, he still dreaded the tasks that were before him. He’d go ashore with her and act as her secretary while she “interviewed” the lumbering beasts down there. Soon enough, she’d realize what they were, and that would be the end of it. He thought of her inevitable disillusionment and almost felt sympathy for her. He’d been foolish even to argue with her earlier when she’d proposed her wild dream of accompanying the captain and the dragons on their trek upriver. He just should have nodded and agreed. He’d listened to what Trell and his wife had to say about the dragons. This adventure wasn’t going to materialize as Alise had always imagined it. And when she came to him, a night or two hence, crestfallen and disappointed, he’d be ready to comfort her and find passage for the two of them back home. All he had to do was maintain his patience and wait. And not vomit as Leftrin slimed along after her.
He glanced across at them again. She was looking up at Leftrin and smiling. Was she infatuated with that grizzled water rat? It didn’t seem possible. Perhaps she construed the man’s braying laugh and extravagant compliments as the epitome of rustic charm. After all, Alise had had few opportunities to sample social interchange with a wide variety of men. Maybe his very coarseness appealed to her. He knew her well enough to know that Hest was in no danger of losing her to anyone. Even if she was not happy with her husband, she was far too tightly laced even to consider betraying him. So let her flirt a bit, let her think she was being a woman of the world on this dismal journey. Though why she could possibly want to dally with an old walrus like Leftrin eluded him. How could he compare to the elegant Hest?
At the thought of Hest, his spirits sank again. Where was he now, what was he doing? Who was sharing his table and witty observations? What exotic port had attracted him, what extravagant and unusual cargo had he already purchased? He closed his eyes for a moment and could clearly imagine Hest loading his pipe after a fine meal in excellent accommodations. Would Hest even wonder what Sedric was enduring on his swamp boat journey up a mosquito-infested river? He probably did, and probably chortled with joy each time Sedric came to his mind. It stung even worse to imagine Hest sharing his amusement with Wollom and Jaff and the insidious Redding Cope. He imagined Cope doing one of his infuriating imitations. “This is Sedric, enjoying the mosquitoes.” And then that pudgy little excuse for a man would slap himself and leap about and be rewarded with Hest’s laughter. Even to imagine it was intolerable. He realized he was grinding his teeth and with an effort calmed his face. This whole misadventure was Hest’s doing, and an entirely unreasonable punishment for the sin of simply speaking his mind. All he had wanted was for Hest to be a bit kinder to Alise. And for his troubles, he had not only been exiled by Hest but now was hijacked by Alise to accompany her even deeper into this uncivilized wasteland.
Unmindful of Sedric’s displeasure, Alise was chattering away with the goat-man at her left elbow. For a moment, he let his mind follow her words. “Look at her. The sun soaks right into her and shines back out of her. She’s magnificent.”
Sedric made a mildly agreeable noise and let her dither on. The beach didn’t merit the name. It was merely a slope of trampled and sun-baked mud that went down to the river’s edge. Soon enough, he’d have to be out there, following Alise about and taking notes for her. Traipsing around the piles of dragon dung and river flotsam. Ruining his boots, most likely. As soon as the men finished tying up or whatever they were doing, Alise would want to go ashore. He’d probably best go into his “room” and see about finding his tools.
“Yes. Yes, I was! You are absolutely glorious!” Alise shouted the words.
Sedric opened his eyes. Alise looked transported by joy. Beneath her multitude of freckles, her cheeks were flushed. She clasped her hands to her bosom as if to hold her thundering heart inside her chest. She turned to him, and he could see in her eyes that, in her excitement, she had completely forgotten their earlier disagreement. Seemingly transfixed, she exclaimed, “Sedric, she spoke to me! The blue dragon. She spoke to me!”
He let his eyes rove over the spectacle of reptilian creatures that sprawled or prowled on the muddy shore. “Which blue one?” he asked her at last.
“The queen. The largest blue queen.” She sounded as if she could not get her breath. She lifted her voice again. “May I come ashore and speak with you?”
“Queen? Do dragons have kings and queens?”
“The large blue female.” She sounded impatient with him. “That one, there. Next to the girl with the broom.”
“Ah. And how do you know she’s their queen?”
“Not their queen, a queen. All female dragons are queens. Just as female cats are queens. Now, please, hush! I can’t hear her while you’re talking!”
The creature was making a sound like a badly tuned wind instrument, but Alise seemed enchanted by its song. When the dragon ceased its mooing, Captain Leftrin seemed equally fascinated. “Let’s get you down there, then,” he said.
Alise was already in motion. She glanced back at him as she hurried toward the prow of the barge. “Bring your notebook, please, Sedric. Bring everything you’ll need to make a transcript of our conversation. Hurry!”
“Very well. I’ll be right along.” His own heartbeat jumped a bit at the prospect of finally walking among the dragons. He hurried to the makeshift stall that Leftrin had put together for him. At least it had solved one of his problems. Within the four rough walls, he had a modicum of privacy and access to all his luggage. He opened his wardrobe trunk and then pulled open one of the drawers. He’d prepared everything as carefully as he possibly could, hoping to provide for every contingency. He took out his lap desk and sat down on his bed to open it. The “bed” was little more than a raised plank with some semiclean bedding to soften it, but it was a place to sit, and far better than the canvas sling they had cobbled together for him to sleep in.
He checked the lap desk’s contents hastily. There were containers for ink of various colors, some empty and some full. Some quill pens already cut and others whole. His penknife, small and sharp. A generous supply of paper in several weights, and a bound sketchbook. A small box held charcoal sticks and several sketching pencils. He pushed two concealed catches with his thumbs and the bottom of the paper box came loose. He lifted it out. There were hi
s specimen bottles. The larger bottles and the coarse salt were concealed in a different compartment in the base of his wardrobe, but for his first foray, this was enough. Perhaps, if he were extra-ordinarily lucky, by the time they returned to the barge, he’d have everything he needed.
When he returned to the deck, the others were already gone. How considerate of them! He suppressed his annoyance and went to the side of the barge. A coarse rope ladder was his means of egress from the boat. It was tricky to get down with his lap desk tucked under his arm, but he wasn’t about to toss it down onto the baked mud. And of course no one offered to help him in any way. Alise was already a substantial distance down the beach, trotting along by herself. That rogue Leftrin hadn’t even seen fit to escort her, had just dropped her off on a beach littered with dragons. How could she stand that man?
He dropped the last few feet to the ground and found the impact harder than he had expected and nearly lost his grip on the precious case. He crouched down to roll up the cuffs of his trousers, scowling at how foolish he’d look, like some sort of a booted stork. Well, better that than spending the rest of the day with his cuffs weighted down with foul-smelling mud.
And it was foul. There was no mistaking the reek of excrement. It combined with the brackish smell of the river and the rank smell of the jungle to make the air a thick soup of stench. Good thing he’d not had an opportunity to eat much today or his stomach would have rebelled completely. “Such a lovely place you’ve chosen for a stroll, Alise,” he muttered sarcastically to himself. “Off you go to frolic among the dragon dung with your river rat.”
He heard a noise like a low growl and looked around himself in alarm. No. There were no dragons anywhere near. Yet he had definitely heard the threatening snarl of a rather large creature. Even now, he had the uncomfortable sensation of being watched. Not just watched but stared at, as a cat stares at a mouse. Again he scanned the area near him, then startled as he came face-to-face with two large glaring eyes. His heart slammed against his ribs. An instant later, he realized his error. The eyes looked down at him from the nose of the barge. He’d never noticed them before. It was, he recalled, an old superstition to paint eyes on a ship, to help it find its way. The eyes glared at him with contempt and fury. He gave a shudder and turned away from the hideous thing.
“Sedric! Hurry up! Please!”
He looked up to find Alise looking back at him over her shoulder. Now he saw Captain Leftrin was off to one side, conferring with a delegation of Rain Wilders about something. One had a thick scroll and seemed to be going over a list with him, point by point. The captain nodded and gave his braying laugh. The man with the scroll did not look amused.
Alise had halted just short of the dragons. Now she looked at him like a dog begging for a walk. Anxiety vied with the excitement in her stance. And no wonder. The dragon she had chosen had risen to her feet and was regarding Alise with interest. It was much bigger than it had looked from the deck of the barge. And blue, very blue. The creature’s hide sparkled iridescently in the sunlight. The eyes she had turned on Alise were large, much larger than seemed proportionate to the creature’s head. They were a coppery brown, with a slit pupil like a cat’s, but unlike a cat’s eyes the color of the dragon’s eyes seemed to melt and swirl around the iris of her eye. It was unsettling. The creature gave a guttural call.
Alise turned her back on him and hastened toward the dragon. “Yes, of course. I apologize for keeping you waiting, beauteous one.”
If the dragon had been proportional and perfectly formed, she might have been beautiful, as a prize bull or a stag was beautiful. But she was not. Her tail seemed short compared to her long neck, and her legs were stumpy. The wings that she now lifted and spread seemed ridiculously small and floppy for a creature of her size, and uneven. They reminded Sedric of a parasol that the wind had blown inside out, presenting the same aspect of flimsy ribs and uneven fabric. He stood up, tucked his lap desk under his arm, and set off across the mud in pursuit of Alise.
A commotion off to one side made him halt. A small red dragon with a boy clinging to its back was thudding ponderously along the beach. “Open your wings!” the lad was shouting. “Open your wings and flap them. You got to try, Heeby. Try really hard.”
And in response, the misshapen creature spread out wings that were not even well matched. One was larger than the other, but the dragon obediently flapped them as it ran. Its “flight” ended a moment later as it charged directly into the river. The boy yelled in dismay and then shouted, with laughter in his voice, “You got to watch where we’re going, Heeby. But that was good for a first try. We just got to keep at it, girl.”
He was not the only one who had stopped to stare at the spectacle. Dragons and keepers alike were frozen. Some of the keepers were grinning, and others were horrified. He could not read any expression on the dragons’ visages. After all, how would one tell if a cow were amused or offended? Alise, after one moment of staring in shock, turned back to her target and once more hurried off.
His longer legs soon caught him up with Alise despite her dogged trot. She seemed to be talking to the dragon. “You are glorious beyond words. I am so thrilled to finally be here, and to speak with you like this is beyond my wildest dreams!”
The dragon lowed back at her.
For the first time, he really noticed the young girl beside the dragon. She had rested her makeshift pine-bough broom on her shoulder. She didn’t look pleased to see them. The scowl on her face and her narrowed eyes made her look even more reptilian. For that was his first impression of her. Lizardlike, he would have said of her scaled face. He had thought her hands were caked with mud, but now he saw that her fingers ended in thick black claws. Her braided black hair looked like woven snakes, and her eyes glittered unnaturally.
“Alise,” he said warningly, and when she didn’t respond, he raised his voice more commandingly. “Alise, stop a moment! Wait for me.”
“Well, hurry then!”
She paused, but he sensed that she would not wait long. In two strides he caught up with her completely. In the guise of taking her arm, he caught hold of her. “Be careful!” he cautioned her in a low voice, pitching his words to carry through the dragon’s vocalizing. “You know nothing of the dragon. And the girl looks distinctly unfriendly. Either one or both of them may be dangerous.”
“Sedric, let go! Can’t you hear her? She says she wishes to speak to me. I think the best way to insult her and anger her is to ignore such a request. And speaking to the dragons is exactly why I came here. And it’s why you are here, too! So follow me and please, have your pen ready to record our conversation.”
She tried to pull free of him. He kept his grip and leaned down to peer into her face. “Alise, are you serious?”
“Of course I am! Why do you think I came all this way?”
“But . . . the dragon is not speaking. Unless mooing like a cow or barking like a dog conveys some meaning to you. What am I to record?”
She looked at him in confusion that became dismay and then, inexplicably, sympathy. “Oh, Sedric, you cannot understand her at all? Not one word?”
“If she has spoken a word, I haven’t understood it. All I’ve heard are, well, dragon noises.”
Almost as if in response to his comment, the dragon released a rumble of sound. Alise swiveled her head to face the dragon. “Please, I beg you, let me have a moment with my friend! He cannot seem to hear you.”
When Alise met Sedric’s gaze again, she shook her head in woe. “I’d heard that there were some who could not understand clearly what Tintaglia said, and a few who could not even perceive she was speaking at all. But I never thought you would be so afflicted. What are we to do now, Sedric? How will you record our conversations?”
“Conversations?” At first he’d been annoyed at her childish pretense of talking to the dragon. It was the same annoyance he always felt when people greeted dogs as “old man” and asked “how my fine old fellow has been.” Women who talk
ed to their cats made him shudder. Alise, as a rule, did neither, and he’d thought her calls to the dragon had been some new and unwelcome Rain Wild affectation. But now, to insist that the dragon was speaking to her and then to offer him her pity—it was too much. “I’ll record them just as I would log your conversations with a cow. Or a tree. Alise, this is ridiculous. I’ll accept, because I must, that the dragon Tintaglia had the ability to make herself understood. But this creature? Look at it!”
The dragon writhed its lips and made a flat, hissing noise. Alise went scarlet. The young Rain Wilder beside the dragon spoke to him. “She says to tell you that although you may not understand her, she understands every word you say. And that the problem is not in her speaking, nor even in your ears, but in your mind. There have always been humans who cannot hear dragons. And usually they are the most arrogant and ignorant ones.”
It was too much. “Keep a civil tongue in your head when you address your elders, girl. Or is that no longer taught here in the Rain Wilds?”
The dragon gave a sudden huff. The force of her exhaled breath blasted him with warmth and the stink of the semirotted meat she had just eaten. He turned aside from her with an exclamation of disgust.
Alise gave a gasp of horror and pleaded, “He does not understand! He meant no insult! Please, he meant no insult!” An instant later, Alise had seized him by the arm. “Sedric, are you all right?” she demanded of him.
“That creature belched right in my face!”
Alise gave a strangled laugh. She seemed to be trembling with relief. “A belch? Was that what you thought it? If so, we are fortunate that was all. If her poison glands were mature, you’d be melting right now. Don’t you know anything of dragons? Don’t you recall what became of the Chalcedean raiders who attacked Bingtown? All Tintaglia had to do was breathe on them. Whatever it was she spat, it ate right through armor. And right through skin and bone as well.” She paused, and then added, “You have insulted her without meaning to. I think you should go back to the ship. Right now. Give me time to explain your misunderstanding of her.”