by Robin Hobb
“I didn’t realize the dragons had human tenders. I mean, I knew that they had hunters helping provide for them, but I didn’t realize that—”
“They don’t. Or they didn’t.” Leftrin had a knack for interrupting her in a way that was friendly rather than rude. “They’re all newcomers. Those are the keepers you heard about, the ones who are going to move the dragons upriver. They can’t have been here much longer than a day, at most two.”
“But some of them are only children!” Alise protested. It was not her concern for them that sharpened her voice. It was, she thought, simple jealousy. There they were, mere youngsters, doing exactly what she had imagined herself doing. Somehow, she had visualized herself as being the first to befriend a dragon, to touch it with kindness and win its confidence. The way Althea and Brashen had described the dragons, she had thought they would be like reptilian half-wits, awaiting, perhaps, her understanding and patience to unlock their innate intelligence. What she saw on the beach was another broken pane in the dream window; she was not to be the dragons’ savior, the only one who understood them.
Leftrin shrugged a heavy shoulder in response to her comment, mistaking it for concern. “Youngsters don’t get to be children long in the Rain Wilds, and especially not children like those. Look at them. It’s a wonder their parents kept them. You can’t tell me those youngsters are all late-changers. You don’t get claws unless you were born with them. And that young man there? I’ll wager he was born with scales on his head and has never had a bit of hair anywhere on his body. No, they’re all mistakes, the lot of them. And that’s why they were chosen.”
His blunt and cold appraisal of the dragons’ attendants shocked Alise into silence.
“And are you and the Tarman a mistake? Is that why you were chosen for the expedition?” Sedric’s voice was as acidic as the river.
But if Leftrin noticed the intended unpleasantness in his tone, he didn’t react to it. “No, me and Tarman are hired. And the contract’s a good one, tight as a contract can be written. And the terms are good, for Tarman and me.” Here he tipped Alise a broad wink, and she almost blushed. He spoke on as if Sedric could not have noticed it. “Not just because no one else would take it, but because the Rain Wild Council knows that no one else can do this job. Tarman and I have been farther up the river than any other large vessel. There may be a few who have gone farther, game scouts in canoes and such. But you can’t do what the Council wants done from a canoe.”
“And what the Council wants done is the dragons driven away from Cassarick.”
“Well, that’s putting it a bit harshly, Sedric. But look for yourself. They’re obviously not in a good place. They’re not healthy, there’s no game they can hunt for themselves, and they’re killing the trees all around the beach.”
“And they’re impeding a profitable excavation of the old city.”
“Yes, that’s true also,” Leftrin replied implacably.
Alise gave Sedric a sideways look. His last little remark had been barbed. He was still upset, and she supposed he had every right to be. Her session at the Traders’ Hall in Cassarick had gone on much longer than she had expected. Thrashing out the details of Leftrin’s contract with the committee had taken most of those hours. Malta the Elderling had remained for the long discussion, but with every passing hour, she looked more like a weary pregnant woman and less like an elegant and powerful Elderling. Alise had observed her unobtrusively but avariciously.
When Alise had first encountered the idea that humans became Elderlings, it had cracked her sense of reality. Elderlings had been the stuff of legend for her when she was a girl. Shadowy, powerful creatures at the edge of tales and myths; those were the Elderlings. Legends spoke of their elegance and beauty, of power sometimes wielded with wisdom and sometimes with casual cruelty. When the original Rain Wild settlers had discovered traces of ancient settlements and then connected those ruins to the near-mythical Elderlings, many had been skeptical. Over the years it had become accepted that they had been real and that perhaps the magical and arcane treasures unearthed in the Rain Wilds were the last remaining traces of their passage on this world. They had been a glorious magical race and now they were vanished forever.
No one had connected the unfortunate and sometimes grotesque disfigurements of the Rain Wild settlers with the ethereal beauty of the Elderlings depicted in scrolls, tapestries, and legends. Scaled skin and glowing eyes were not always lovely to look upon, and in the cases of the Rain Wild offspring afflicted with them, their life spans were greatly shortened, not the near immortals that legend decreed the Elderlings were. Vultures and peacocks might both have feathers and beaks, but one did not confuse the two creatures. Yet Malta and Selden Vestrit of Bingtown and Reyn Khuprus of the Rain Wilds had changed, just as those touched by the Rain Wilds changed, not toward the monstrous but toward the fantastic. Dragon touched, some now called them to distinguish them from the others. Somehow, she suspected, their being present during the emergence of Tintaglia from her case and spending so much time with her afterward had caused their metamorphoses to proceed in a different pattern.
Watching Malta Khuprus had given her much to think about during the long and tedious hours of Leftrin’s haggling. He had not seemed to find the delay boring, but had settled into his deal making with the enthusiasm of a pit dog trying to pull down a bull. While he discussed who would pay for food and how much the Tarman could carry and if the small boats for the keepers would be his responsibility and who would pay if a dragon did any damage to his vessel and a hundred other variables, Alise covertly studied the Elderling woman and wondered. It was too obvious to ignore that the physical changes a human underwent were that his or her body acquired some of the characteristics of a dragon. Or a reptile, she judiciously added. The scales, the unusual growths, Malta’s crest on her brow all spoke of some connection to the dragons. But other parts of the puzzle did not fit. The strange elongation of her bones, for instance.
If the Elderlings had known exactly what precipitated the changes that took them from human to Elderling, they had not written it down, at least not in any scrolls that Alise had ever seen. Then she wondered if Elderlings had ever been a completely separate race from humans. Had humans always changed to become Elderlings, or had Elderlings existed separately but perhaps interbred with humanity? Alise had become so enmeshed in her pondering that when Leftrin abruptly announced, “Well, it’s all settled then. I’ll depart as soon as you’ve managed to ferry the supplies down to the dock,” she felt jolted out of a dream. She looked around her to see the Council members rising from their chairs and coming to shake Leftrin’s hand. A document, evidently written as they settled each term, and signed by all, was being sanded to set and dry the ink. Malta, looking frailer than ever, had signed in her turn and was now gazing at Alise. The Bingtown woman gathered all her courage and went to present herself.
Yet before she reached Malta, the woman had gracefully but with weariness come to meet her. She took both of Alise’s hands in hers and said, “I truly don’t know how to thank you. I wish that I myself could be going. Not that I have any great fondness for dragons; they are difficult to deal with, being nearly as stubborn and self-justified as humans.”
Alise was astonished. She had expected the Elderling to declare her undying devotion to dragons and to beg Alise to do all she could to protect them. Instead, she continued, “Don’t trust them. Don’t think of them as especially noble or of a higher morality than humans. They aren’t. They’re just like us, except they are larger and stronger, with potent memories of always having their own way. So, be careful. And whatever you learn of them, whether you find Kelsingra or not, you must record and bring back to us. Because sooner or later, humanity is going to have to coexist with a substantial population of dragons. We have forgotten all we ever knew about dealing with dragons. But they have forgotten nothing about humans.”
“I’ll be careful,” Alise promised faintly.
“I’ll take
you at your word.” Malta smiled, and her face seemed briefly more human. “You seem to be a Trader who remembers what a promise means. In these times, we could do with more like you. And now, I’m afraid I must go home to rest.”
“Do you need any help to get home?” Alise was bold enough to ask. But Malta shook her head. She released Alise’s hands and slowly but gracefully climbed the shallow steps to the entry doors. Alise was still looking after her when she felt Leftrin’s heavy hand clap her on the shoulder.
“Well, didn’t you turn out to be just the ticket for both of us! I wonder if Brashen Trell knew what a bit of luck he was sending my way when he sent you to me! I doubt it, but there it is. Well, my lady luck, the deal is signed, save for your mark, and we’re all waiting on that.”
In astonishment, she turned to find that it was so. The Council members were reseated in their places. The pen in its stand awaited her. As she glanced from it to the Council leader, Trader Polsk gestured at it impatiently. Alise glanced back at Leftrin.
“Well, get it done,” he urged her. “The day gets no longer!”
In a sort of daze, she crossed the room. She shouldn’t do this. She couldn’t do this. Had she ever before set her signature to a document that bound her? Only when she had set her hand to her marriage agreement with Hest. She recalled as a waking nightmare all the particulars of that agreement, and how she had willingly marked her name on every one. It was the only time her signature had bound her as a Trader. Time after time, she had recalled that afternoon. Now when she thought of how quickly Hest had moved through the ceremony, she saw it not as a bridegroom’s eagerness, but as yet another mark of how he would trivialize their bond. She had lived to regret binding herself that way. How could she even think of setting her hand to another document? Her eyes wandered over the words above her name. Someone had negotiated a wage for her, a daily payment for each day she was on the vessel. How peculiar to think that she would earn money, money of her own, doing this. If she did it. And then she knew that she would.
Because she wanted to. Because despite being Hest’s wife, she was still of Trader stock, and still capable of making her own decisions. It was her hand, her familiar freckled hand that lifted the pen and dipped it. She watched, oddly distant, as she formed the characters of her name in her strong sloping penmanship. “There. It’s done,” she said, and she heard how small her voice sounded now in that large room.
“Done,” agreed Trader Polsk, and dumped a generous measure of sand on the paper. Alise watched as the sand was shaken off, leaving her signature strong and black on the page. What had she just done?
Captain Leftrin was at her shoulder. His hearty laugh boomed out, and he took her arm and turned her, leading her away. “And that’s a fine morning’s bargaining for both of us. I’ll admit that having your company on this expedition suits me very well indeed. The Council insists that it can have Tarman loaded and ready to sail by late afternoon. Between you and me, that won’t be much of a trick. I knew I’d get the contract, and I’ve already made arrangements for the supplies that I want. Now. We’ve not far to go for the first stop on our journey. The dragon grounds are an hour past the city docks. But for now, there’s a bit of time for us to spend as we wish. I’ve arranged for a runner to take the news to Hennesey. He’s a good mate and I’ve no worries about him seeing the cargo loaded. So. Shall we take a bit of a tour of Cassarick before we go? You didn’t have much of a chance to see Trehaug from what you’ve told me.”
She should have said no. She should have insisted on immediately returning to the boat. But somehow, after the morning’s adventure, she couldn’t bear to return to being not only rigorously correct but timorously so. Nor could she imagine meeting Sedric’s eyes and admitting what she had done. Sedric. Oh, Sa have mercy! No. She couldn’t confront that thought yet. She boldly set her hand on Leftrin’s arm and said, “I think I’d enjoy seeing Cassarick.”
And so he had shown her the “city,” though Cassarick scarcely merited the word. It was a lively town, still young and raw and growing. She was sure now that Captain Leftrin had deliberately chosen to give her the most adventurous tour possible. It began with a dizzying ride up in a basket lift. They entered it and shut the flimsy door securely. Then Leftrin tugged on a line and far overhead, she heard the tinkle of a small bell. “Now wait for them to ballast it,” he told her, and she stood, heart thumping with excitement. After a wait, the compartment gave a lurch and then rose slowly and steadily into the air. The device they rode up in was built of light yet sturdy materials and was so small that they had to stand with their bodies nearly touching. Alise stood looking out over the rim of the basket but could not help but be aware of Leftrin’s stout body just behind hers. Midway in their journey, they met the lift tender coming down in the opposing basket. He stood amid a stack of ballast stone, and by a means she couldn’t see, he halted both baskets in midjourney for Leftrin to pay the lift fee. Once the man was satisfied, he continued down while their basket continued to rise. The view was astonishing. They traveled past thick branches with footpaths on top of them, past rows of houses dangling like ornaments from tree limbs, past rickety bridges and little basket trolleys whizzing past them on lines that reminded her of the washing line at home. When they finally arrived at their destination and the lift tender’s assistant halted their flight, they were so high in the trees that stray beams of bright yellow sunlight filtered down through the thick foliage. The attendant opened the lift door and Alise stepped out onto a narrow balcony affixed to a heavy tree limb. She looked over the edge, gasped, and then nearly shrieked when Leftrin took a sudden and firm grip on her arm. “That’s a good way to get dizzy, your first time up a trunk,” he warned her. He guided her along a narrow footpath that ran along the thick branch, back toward the trunk of the tree.
She tried to be casual as she set both her hands to the coarse bark of the trunk. She wanted to hug the tree, but it would have been like trying to hug a wall. The flora and the foliage here in the Rain Wilds were on so immense a scale that they seemed more like geographical features than botanical ones. To Leftrin’s credit, he hadn’t said a word while she caught her breath and found her dignity. When she turned back to face him, he smiled in a way that was friendly, not teasing, and said, “I believe there’s a very nice little tea and cake shop this way.”
He led her around the trunk on the sturdy boardwalk. More of the town was awake now, and though the walkways were not nearly as crowded as the streets of Bingtown on a market day, there was still a substantial population in evidence. Watching them go so matter-of-factly about their lives slowly changed her perception of them. Their scaled faces and outlandish clothing had almost begun to seem mundane by the time they reached the tea shop and ordered a small meal. They had talked and laughed and eaten, and for a time, Alise forgot who and where she was.
Captain Leftrin was a rough man, almost coarse. Handsome he was not, nor particularly groomed, nor even educated. He didn’t care that he spilled his tea in his saucer, and when he laughed, he threw back his head and roared, and every customer in the shop turned to stare at him. It embarrassed Alise. Yet in his company, she felt more like a woman than she had in years, perhaps in her whole life. And that was the thought that made her realize that she had been behaving as if she were not only single, but not accountable to anyone else but herself. The shock of that thought made her catch her breath, and in the next instant she recalled that this sort of misadventure was exactly why Hest had sent Sedric to chaperone her and protect her good name. His good name, she belatedly thought. This was what Sedric had been trying to warn her about. She hastily finished her tea and then sat almost fidgeting as Leftrin slowly enjoyed his.
“Shall we look about a bit more?” he offered her as they left the shop, his grin confident of her agreement.
“I’m afraid I should get back to the Sedric and explain to him the change in plans. I don’t think he’s going to be happy with it,” she said, and suddenly the understatement of
that rattled inside her. Sedric had been miserable spending only a few days on the Tarman. How would he react to the news that she’d volunteered herself to be part of the expedition, a trip that would certainly take days and possibly weeks? Would he forbid it?
That thought made her cold with dread, and then a worse one came. Could he forbid it to her? Did she have to accept his judgment if he said she must give up her wild plan? What would happen if he did? She’d signed her name to an agreement. No Trader would even consider backing out on such a thing. But what if he disputed her right to do so? Just how much authority did she have to yield to him? After all, he was her chaperone, accompanying her to preserve appearances. He was not her guardian or her father. And Hest had said, quite clearly, that he was hers to command. So, if need be, she could force the issue. Wasn’t that why Hest paid him? To do what he was told to do? He was Hest’s servant.
And her friend.
Her conscience squirmed uncomfortably. She’d begun to think of him more and more that way lately. Her friend. And she’d enjoyed the attentions and deference he’d been showing her. Today, when she’d left so early without even telling him she was going, she’d dismissed the need to do so. Because as her friend, he’d understand. But as her husband’s employee, as her appointed chaperone, would he? Had she put him in a difficult position without thinking about it? She spoke quickly, before she could give in to the temptation to wander through Cassarick with the river captain as her guide. “I’m afraid I must go back right away. I have to tell Sedric what I’ve—” She faltered suddenly, at a loss for words. What she had decided to do? Could she use such a word and not be humiliated in a few hours when Sedric overturned it? For she was suddenly certain that he would.