by Robin Hobb
“What happened?”
“Not a great deal. Nasty exchange of words. Greft seemed willing to fight, but Tats said he wouldn’t hit a sick man and walked away. Ended there. I hope.” He took another long sip of the cooling tea. “Tats and Harrikin told him they were going to take the boat and gear and go hunting this morning. I hope Greft is smart enough to not be there when they take the boat. If he is, and it comes to blows, I’ll have to intervene.”
“Perhaps they’ve already gone,” Alise suggested hopefully.
“Perhaps, but it bears checking into. Care to talk a walk, my dear?”
“THANK YOU FOR the invitation, kind sir.” She mocked a curtsy to him, and then set a rough hand on the ragged sleeve that he so grandly extended to her. As they started their promenade down the deck, she found herself smiling at the picture they must present. She no longer had a single garment that didn’t show some sign of wear from sun and acid water. The exception was the Elderling gown he had given her, but the long skirt was not the most convenient style for life on a barge. Her hair had gone wild and curly. A Bingtown street vendor would have had a better complexion. She was barefoot; she now saved what was left of her boots for times when it was possible to walk on the shore; she had not put them on for days now. Never had she felt less beautiful.
Or more attractive. She glanced at Leftrin, and his eyes immediately met hers. And when she returned his gaze, his smile widened and his eyes lit with interest. Yes. Here on the deck of this ship, she was the most beautiful woman in his world. It was a wonderful sensation.
“The boat’s gone,” she told him, recalling him to the business at hand.
“So it is. Well, that’s trouble avoided,” he said, well pleased.
Then Tats spoke from behind him. “Where’s the boat?”
GREFT HAD TAKEN the boat, and all the gear both for hunting and fishing. No one was sure when he had left. Bellin remembered seeing him in the galley after most of the others had gone to sleep. It didn’t surprise Thymara. Greft’s changes had meant he was not sleeping well, and he’d told them it was hard for him to eat. A quick inventory revealed that a large portion of their small supply of ship’s bread was gone completely along with a small pot. This more than anything else convinced her that Greft had not gone out to fish or hunt. He’d left the barge to go his own way.
The reactions of the other keepers surprised Thymara. Some were angered to find the boat missing, and all expressed surprise. None seemed concerned for Greft’s well-being. Boxter and Kase were stubbornly silent, and Jerd was bitterest about his selfishness in taking the boat, gear, and ship’s bread “when he knows it is one of the few foods I can keep down.”
“As if everything must center on her,” Sylve, standing at Thymara’s elbow, whispered. Not quietly enough, for Jerd shot them both an evil glance and said tragically, “It is nothing to either of you that he has abandoned me while I carry his child.”
Thymara thought but did not say that perhaps it would have mattered more to Greft if he had been certain the child was his. She edged away from the keepers, to stand where she could eavesdrop as Leftrin discussed the matter with Hennesey. “If it was only the boat and the gear, I’d say it was a keeper matter. Even though losing that fishing and hunting gear is going to impact everyone; ever since Jess got himself dead, Carson’s had a hard time keeping meat on the table. Dragons are mainly feeding themselves now or things would be even worse. But he stole the ship’s bread. And that makes it a ship’s matter and for the captain to decide.
“That’s how I see it. So. Someone’s got to go after him and bring him back. It’s the last thing we need just now. But if we ignore it, it leaves the door wide open for the next keeper who decides to jump ship and take whatever with them.”
“Can’t let it go,” Hennesey agreed. “But who do you send?”
“Carson.” Leftrin was decided on that. “He’s mine. Not a keeper, even if that dragon has claimed him. I’m not going to send a regular crewman off on this. I want to move on today, not sit here and wait.”
“Carson, then. Alone?”
“I’ll let him choose if he wants a companion. This is such a damn nuisance.”
“WHY ME?” SEDRIC asked the question quietly.
Carson glanced back at him, a puzzled smile on his face. “I thought by now you’d realize that I like to spend time with you.”
Despite his worries, Sedric found himself answering Carson’s smile. That response seemed to be enough for the hunter. He faced front again and dug his paddle into the water. Sedric copied him and tried to keep pace with him. The physical strength he had developed since he’d begun keeping company with the hunter surprised him. As for Carson, he’d complimented Sedric more than once on the developing muscles in his arms and chest.
Sedric glanced back, a bit uneasily, to watch the barge shrinking behind them. The boat had become the one point of safety in his life. It ran counter to all his instincts to be moving away from it in this tiny vessel, even with Carson guiding their way. A flash of silver caught his eye. “Your dragon is following us, I think.”
Carson lifted his head for a moment. Then, without turning to look, he gave a tight nod. “That he is.”
“Why?”
“Who knows why a dragon does anything?” he muttered, but there was amusement in his voice. Spit was a difficult dragon, cantankerous and sometimes obtuse to the point of stupidity. Even knowing why the hunter had stepped forward to be Spit’s keeper, Sedric still wondered at it. He and Carson had not made any promises to each other. Carson hadn’t seemed to think they were necessary. Yet he held nothing back. He’d spoken only once of a concern that Sedric might “outgrow or outlive him.” Sedric had dismissed it as pillow talk. Yet when the opportunity arose for the hunter to follow Sedric into a transformation that no human could control, he hadn’t hesitated. He’d stepped forward to become Spit’s keeper, a spontaneous offer to change his entire life for the sake of being with Sedric. Never had he imagined that any man would make such a concession to him. It reminded him shamefully of how quickly he had discarded his old life and even shredded his family ties to be with Hest. He suspected that Carson was far more aware of what he had done than Sedric had been when he gave up his world to be with his lover. Yet Carson had not once mentioned it as a sacrifice. When the man gave, he gave with an open heart. He watched the man in front of him, saw the shifting of his muscles as he used the paddle, and wondered what he would look like a year or a decade from now.
Spit hadn’t yet offered blood to Carson, but Sedric did not doubt that he would. The hunter tended the unpredictable little dragon with not only devotion but a deep understanding of animals and their bodies. The first day that he’d been keeper to Spit, he’d gone over the small silver dragon with an attention to every detail of his health that had sent every other keeper scampering to be sure he hadn’t neglected his own beast.
Not many of them had been as bold as Carson. He’d spent over an hour inside the dragon’s mouth, removing a wad of sinew that had wrapped around one of his shearing teeth and was causing him a great deal of pain. “Not a waste of my time,” he’d gently rebuked Sedric later. “Sooner or later, it would have rotted away. But by removing it now, I gave him one more reason to appreciate me. And one less reason to be irritable all the time.”
“What are we going to do when we find Greft?” Sedric asked Carson after a while. It was an obvious question, one of the many that he hadn’t had time to ask before they departed from the barge.
“We bring him and the boat back to the barge. That’s our only task.”
“What if he resists?”
Carson’s shrug was minute. “We bring him back. One way or another. Leftrin can’t let him get away with that theft. So far, despite the shortages, there hasn’t been any pilferage or hoarding. Food that is gathered or hunted is shared. You and Alise set an example when you divvied out your extra clothing. You can’t imagine how relieved Leftrin was when you did that. He was surprise
d you’d do that. I told him I wasn’t.” He turned his head and gifted Sedric with a grin that parted his ruddy lips and showed his teeth. Who smiled like that? Not the sophisticated and urbane Traders who had once been Sedric’s companions. They muted their expressions, never laughing too loud, hiding smiles behind well-tended hands. Appearing to be disaffected or cynical was stylish. Why had he thought that was attractive and civilized? A ghost of Hest’s sneering smile came to his mind. He banished it, and it went much more easily than it had a month ago.
“I love your smile.” He spoke the honest compliment aloud. It made him feel silly and giddy at the same time. He would never have dared to voice such a simple thing to Hest. The man would have ridiculed him for a month. He watched as Carson silently took two more strokes with his paddle and then carefully shipped it. The little boat rocked as the hunter turned on the seat and then slowly moved through the boat until he crouched in front of Sedric. He cupped the back of Sedric’s head with one hand and kissed him deeply and thoroughly.
His voice was hoarse when he spoke. “I’ve never done this in a boat before. It might be tricky.”
“Tricky can be good,” Sedric responded breathlessly.
“SOMETHING IS WRONG.” Jerd’s voice was tight and scared, and her grip on Thymara’s upper arm was painful. Thymara had been sitting on the deck, trying to untangle a long fishing line with multiple hooks when Jerd had sought her out.
“What?” Thymara demanded, trying to pull back from her. Jerd was uncomfortably close as she crouched over her, and the fear in her voice was unnerving.
“I’m bleeding. A little bit. And I keep feeling—OH.” She leaned on Thymara abruptly, and her free hand went to her belly. To Thymara’s horror, a few drops of blood-tinged liquid spattered onto Tarman’s deck.
“Oh no!” Thymara gasped. All knew that blood should never be spilled on a liveship’s deck. She felt Tarman’s suddenly heightened awareness. An instant later, she heard Leftrin shout, “Swarge, is there a problem?”
“None I see, Cap!” the tillerman shouted back.
“Quickly. Stoop down and let me use the hem of your nightgown to wipe that up.”
“That’s disgusting.” Jerd was wearing one of Alise’s night-robes to accommodate her modestly swelling belly.
Her cramp must have passed, Thymara thought, grimacing with distaste, for her to be too fastidious to deal with the mess she had made. She stooped and used the ragged sleeve of her own shirt, but some of the bloody water had already soaked into the deck. Not good. “We need to take you down to the bunks, I think. Jerd, why did you come to me? Why didn’t you talk to Bellin?”
“She’s mean. And she doesn’t like me.”
“She’s not mean. She’s just a woman who has been trying to get with child for years, and here you do it within months of your first mating, without even intending to. She’s bound to resent you a little. Come on. Walk.”
Jerd leaned on her heavily. Despite her whispering and the furtive way she had come to find her, Thymara suspected she was enjoying the attention they attracted as they made their slow way to the deckhouse and entered it. Davvie and Lecter were in the galley. “Go get Bellin, please,” Thymara said, and something in her voice sent them scrabbling to obey her.
“And Sylve,” Jerd called faintly after them. “I need women to attend me.”
Thymara shut her teeth sharply on a hard-hearted reply to that. Jerd was enjoying the drama now, but Thymara had a feeling that bad things were about to happen. She helped Jerd sit down on one of the lower bunks.
Bellin arrived with not only Sylve but Skelly also. The woman’s voice was hard but not without sympathy. “I felt blood on the deck from Tarman. You’re losing the baby, then?”
“What?” Jerd was astounded.
Thymara exchanged a disbelieving glance with Sylve, but neither girl said anything. Skelly merely looked baffled.
Bellin spoke heavily. “If you’re seeping blood and having cramps, then you’re having a miscarriage. The baby is likely already dead inside you, and your body is pushing it out. Or the poor little thing will emerge far too early and die. Worst will be if this stops in a little while. Because I can tell you from experience that it will just start up again, a day or a week or even a couple of months from now when you’ve convinced yourself that everything is fine even if you still haven’t felt the child move.”
“NO!” Jerd shrieked and then dissolved into wailing and tears. Bellin turned her back on her. At first Thymara thought her attitude was harsh. Then she saw a tear track down the woman’s weathered cheek.
Alise suddenly appeared in the doorway of the bunk room. “What’s going on?” she asked in alarm.
“Jerd’s losing her baby,” Bellin said. Thymara suddenly knew that the flatness of her voice was actually the woman’s effort to keep her own emotions under control. “Shut the door, please. Skelly, find clean rags. There’s still a bit of wood left. Use it to warm some water. She’ll want to bathe afterward.”
Skelly went running to do as she was told, and Sylve nudged Thymara and tilted her head toward the door. They had almost reached it when Bellin stepped in front of it. “No,” she said sternly. “I want you girls here. Time to see the consequences of what you’re doing.”
“I’m not doing anything!” The words burst out of Thymara’s mouth before she had considered how revealing they were. Everyone stared at her.
Bellin spoke heavily. “Maybe you haven’t, girl. But you will. This girl here, she did what she wanted, with whom she wanted at the moment. And that’s her business, as she told me pretty hot once, and you’ve probably heard, too. But here we are at the crossroads, and who is the work falling on? You see any boys or men in this room? You see any fellow pacing up and down outside, praying to Sa to give that little life a chance? I don’t. And that’s the message, girls. If you don’t have a partner ready to put it on the line for you, to the last drop of blood in his body, well, then you’re a fool if you spread your legs. That’s it, plain as I can say it.”
Thymara had never heard such blunt and harsh words. She and Sylve froze where they were.
“That’s not…fair.” Jerd gasped out the words, and then she gave a small shriek. She curled over her belly, panting. Thymara heard the small rush of fluid as it exited her body.
“It’s not fair,” Bellin agreed. “It’s never fair, girl. So all you can do in this hard and unfair world is make sure you’re giving yourself and your baby the best shot you can at having a life. Get a true partner, one with guts. Or don’t get a child. It’s that simple.”
Skelly was back with a folded stack of clean blood rags. Bellin took some from the top and mopped between Jerd’s legs, her lips a flat line. Thymara turned away, feeling humiliated simply by virtue of being female. Her glance met Alise’s. The Bingtown woman stood with her back pressed against the door, her face pale. Was she wondering what would become of her if she suddenly found herself pregnant? Well, she had Leftrin, and he seemed the steady sort.
Jerd lay back, breathing hard, and Bellin continued mercilessly, “When this is over, a week or two from now, every one of those boys is likely to come sniffing after you. The ones you already had will assume you’ll still accept them, and the ones who haven’t will still be waiting to take a turn. If you’re smart, you’ll hold out for something from them this time, other than a few jolly humps.”
“I’m not…a whore,” Jerd retorted indignantly.
“No, you’re not,” Bellin returned placidly. She dumped the handful of used rags into a bucket and took up a fresh one. “A whore has the sense to get something for what she gives—money or presents. Something she can use to take care of herself. You just gave it away, girl. That’s fine if you want to shove a wax stopper up there so you don’t conceive. Then it’s just yourself you’re risking, when you get the ooze or the scabs. But right now, you’re risking not just yourself but some poor little baby who might drop down in the middle of this. And that means you’re risking us, too. You
die popping out a baby, who has to find something for it to eat? Who has to stop her life to wipe its ass and pack it around on the deck? Who has to watch it dwindle and die and then put it over the side for a dragon to eat? Most likely me, that’s who. And I’m telling you right now, you aren’t going to do that to me. You have a baby and live, well, it still falls on us to find food for you and the child. Just pregnant, you haven’t been pulling your share of the load. You get a baby on your own, you become a weight on the rest of us. Something like that falls on me, it’s going to be Swarge’s child, not yours. He gives me a baby, well, I know that he and I both will give the last breath of our bodies to make sure it lives. So, I’m letting you know, every one of you here with no partner willing to stand up and admit he’s your partner: keep your legs together. If anyone catches a baby in her belly on this ship, it’s going to be me. Or Alise there. We got the men to back us up. You don’t.”
Alise looked so shocked at Bellin’s words that Thymara wondered if the Bingtown woman had ever considered that she might get pregnant.
“You can’t tell me what I can—aaaah!” Jerd’s defiant words died away in a hoarse caw. Her breath caught, she panted, and then grunted hard. She expelled her breath in a long sigh. Bellin bent over Jerd’s tented legs and her face darkened with sorrow. One-handed, she gave a rag a shake, and then floated it down over something. Skelly, silent as a ghost, handed Bellin a bit of string and a knife. Bellin’s hidden hands worked efficiently as she cut the cord and tied it off. She wrapped the rag around something small. A strange tenderness shone in her eyes as she lifted the stillborn thing from the narrow bunk.
“She wouldn’t have lived, even if you had carried her to term. Look at her, if you want. No legs. Just a partial tail, like a serpent.”