by Robin Hobb
“That’s enough. For now.”
Day the 22nd of the Prayer Moon
Year the 6th of the Independent Alliance of Traders
From Detozi, Keeper of the Birds, Trehaug
To Erek, Keeper of the Birds, Bingtown
In a sealed message cylinder, specific to his family and sealed with wax imprinted with his seal, a confidential message from Trader Sworkin to Trader Kellerby.
Erek,
I am both saddened by the news that your father has been ill and relieved to know that you were not on our river when the world went mad. I wish to assure you of our family’s hospitality should you have the opportunity to come for a visit with us. If the other bird keepers could take charge of your flock and responsibilities for a time, perhaps you could accompany Reyall when he returns home to visit, if indeed that visit is possible. I would greatly enjoy finally meeting you after all these years of exchanged notes.
Detozi
CHAPTER NINE
DISCOVERIES
Sedric.
“No. Go away. Let me sleep.”
Sedric.
“I just want to sleep.”
Sedric.
“What?” He projected all his annoyance into the word. It hurt. He lifted his hand to his jaw, then gingerly explored the whole side of his face. It hurt. Of all the bruises that Jess had given him, this one hurt the worst. One of his eyes still wouldn’t open all the way.
“I’m hungry.” Her actual voice was a rumbling, gargling sort of sound. The meaning of it rode into his mind as a thought. No time to worry about his own pain. She pushed his own physical state aside with concerns about her own. She was hungry.
“Well, I don’t have any more hunters to feed you.”
????
“Never mind. I’m getting up. I’ll see what I can do for you.”
He was still trying to forget yesterday’s events and their bloody culmination.
The second time Relpda had surfaced, Jess’s lower half had been in her jaws. She’d treated Sedric to one more shocking glimpse of the sheared torso, then merrily tossed the remains into the air, caught them so that they aligned with her throat, and with a couple of jerking motions, swallowed the hunter’s hips and legs.
He’d turned his head away, retching hopelessly. When he heard a splash and felt the raft rock, he’d guessed it was safe to look back. She’d vanished under the water again. He’d taken a shuddering breath and curled forward over his belly. That left him looking at the pool of mingled blood and river water in the bottom of the boat. He’d scrabbled out of it and perched on the log beside it, trying to think what he must do next.
The hunter was dead. He and the dragon had killed Jess. If they hadn’t, Jess would certainly have done his best to kill both of them. Yet it all seemed so monstrous, so hugely outside his experience that he could scarcely grasp it. He’d never expected to kill a man; he’d never expected even to fight or hurt another man. Why would he? If he had remained in his correct place, in Bingtown, working as Hest’s assistant, nothing like this would have ever befallen him.
If he’d remained with Hest, nothing like this would have ever happened to him.
Suddenly that had been a thought that could cut both ways.
The dragon had surfaced noisily. Better, she’d told him. Not so hungry.
“I’m happy for you.”
The words had been an empty courtesy, but in return she’d given him a flood of warmth. The surge of affection he felt from her had temporarily pushed all pain from his body. She’d followed it with a request. Need help. To get on the wood again.
“I’m coming.” And he’d actually managed to help her to a safer perch, one where she could rest.
Sometime before nightfall, he’d recovered enough that he’d eaten the fruit that Jess had harvested. His lips were broken and his face hurt where Jess had struck him, but he ignored the pain to eat. The fruit was both food and drink for him, and he was shocked at how much better he felt for it. That done, he’d inventoried the supplies in the boat. The best discovery had been a wool blanket, even if it was wet and smelly. He’d spread it out to let it dry as much as it would before dark.
He’d forced himself to proceed logically, even to gathering up the piece of line and the fishing spear that Jess had dropped when he’d decided that killing Sedric was more important than killing the dragon. Relpda had watched him from her precarious perch on the logs. When he’d picked up the spear, she’d shuddered and he’d felt her dislike for the weapon.
“I might be able to get food for us with this,” he suggested doubtfully.
Yes. Maybe. But hurt. See?
And so he’d had to examine her injury. It was still leaking blood, but her dip beneath the water seemed to have partially cauterized it. “You need to keep that as dry as you can,” he’d counseled her. “No more diving.”
Sedric angry?
Her query had actually sounded anxious. Her tone made him stop to consider her question. “No,” he answered honestly. “Not angry. We do what we have to do. We had to kill him or he would have killed us. You ate him because, well, it’s what dragons do. You were hungry. I’m not angry.”
Sedric kill. Sedric protect. Sedric feed Relpda.
“I suppose I did,” he said after a time of horrified reflection. “I suppose I did.”
Sedric my keeper. You will change.
“I’m changing already,” he admitted.
Yes. Change.
He wasn’t sure he enjoyed contemplating that.
That night the damp blanket had provided him with some shelter from the incessantly humming insects, but it could not keep at bay his stinging thoughts. What was he going to do? He had a boat that he didn’t know how to manage, a slightly injured dragon, and a small array of tools that he didn’t know how to use. He didn’t know if any of the others had survived, nor if he should look for them upriver or downriver. No matter which direction he went in, he was fairly certain the dragon would follow him.
Follow, she’d assured him. Follow Sedric. Relpda and Sedric together.
Just as he’d accepted that thought, she’d rattled him in a new direction. Easier to think, easier to talk with you here. And in case he hadn’t taken her meaning, she’d sent him a flush of warmth through the connection they shared.
It had been a long time before he’d been able to sleep, and now that he was awake again, none of his problems seemed simpler. The dragon obviously expected him to feed her. He rubbed his swollen eyes cautiously and tossed his smelly blanket aside. Slowly he sat up and then clambered awkwardly out of the boat. He was too stiff to move comfortably, and he was quite literally sick of every object moving in reaction to every move he made. He was hungry and thirsty, the whole side of his face was swollen, his clothes stuck to his itching, stinging skin, his hair was plastered to his scalp. Abruptly, he stopped enumerating his misery to himself. No point to that except to make himself more miserable.
Fix.
Again that warm flush suffused him. This time, as it faded, everything hurt less.
“Are you healing me?” he asked in wonder.
No. Making you not think about pain so much.
Like a drug, he thought. Not as reassuring as thinking he was healing, but less pain was good, too. So what should he do?
Find food for me.
Her thoughts were clearer and more cogent. Less separate from his own, he feared. He pushed that thought away as something he couldn’t worry about right now. Right now he had to find a way to feed the dragon, if only to lessen the hunger pangs she was sharing with him. But how?
There was no quick and satisfying answer to that. The day was mild, the river calmer and the water less white. He had the tools of a hunter, if not the skills. He had a boat. And he had a dragon.
All he needed to do was decide what to do with those things.
The closest he came to a decision was walking away from the boat and taking a piss into the river. When he was finished, he spoke. “So, Rel
pda, what shall we do now?”
Get food.
“Excellent idea. Except I don’t know how.”
Go hunt. He felt the mental nudge she gave him. It wasn’t comfortable.
He thought of arguing with her and then decided there was no point to it. She was right. They were both hungry, and the only solution was that one of them find food. And she certainly wasn’t going to do it. He recalled that he had seen Jess coming from the trees with fruit. If the hunter had found fruit up there, then chances were that some remained. Up there. Somewhere.
Meat. Fish, she insisted. She shifted uncomfortably on the log that supported her. One end of it abruptly broke free of the tangled debris and dipped lower into the water. Slipping! She trumpeted her fear as her thought slammed his mind. Frantically, she reached out and seized a second log with her front claws. Her grip held and she pulled the log closer, managing to hitch herself up partially onto both of them.
“Good girl! Clever dragon!” he praised her.
And in return, he received that wave of warmth that eased his hurts. But with it came a message. And tired. So tired. Cold, too.
“I know, Relpda. I know.” They weren’t just comforting words. He did know exactly how tired she was, and how her weariness dragged at her. Her front legs ached from hanging on. All her claws felt odd, soft and sore. Her back legs and tail were weary from thrashing. Abruptly she opened her wings and beat them, trying to lift herself higher on the logs. They were stronger than he had thought they were. He felt the wind they stirred and saw her chest rise almost out of the water. For all that, it didn’t help her at all. It just disrupted the tangle of wood and debris in the eddy. As Sedric watched, a clump of tangled weeds broke free and floated off down the river. Not good.
“Relpda. Relpda. Listen to me. We have to get more logs under your chest and give you a place to rest. Once you are safe, then I can hunt for food for you.”
Rest. A world of longing was in the single word.
SHE’D SLEPT LATE, yet when she emerged onto the deck, she saw that some of the keepers were sleeping still. Alise wondered if weariness or sorrow weighted them. Two who were not sleeping were Thymara and Jerd. The two girls were on the bow of the Tarman, their legs dangling as they sat on the railing and talked. Alise was mildly surprised to see them together. She had not thought they were friendly with each other, and after what Thymara had told her about Jerd, she doubted they ever would be. She wondered what they were talking about, and if they would welcome her if she joined them. She’d had female friends in Bingtown, but she’d never cherished those friendships as much as some women did. There was a reserve in her that perhaps other women thought cold; she’d never been able to confide in her friends the most intimate details of her marriage, though many had insisted on sharing such with her.
Yet she thought that now she would welcome another woman’s thoughts. Since her discovery of the locket yesterday, her mind and emotions had been in turmoil. Why would Hest have such a gift made, why entrust it to Sedric, and why hadn’t Sedric passed it on to her? These were questions she could not share with Leftrin; if there was guilt to bear in these matters, it belonged to her alone. It was a question only Sedric could answer, and Sedric was gone. She reined her mind away from that sorrow. Not yet. She would not mourn him yet. There was still hope.
She wandered the boat, looking for Bellin. When she finally found her, she was in the deckhouse, sitting on Skelly’s bunk. Bellin’s face was serious, and she held both of Skelly’s hands. Tears had tracked down the girl’s face recently. Bellin’s eyes flickered to Alise’s face, and a very slight change in her facial expression told Alise to go away silently without alerting Skelly to her presence. Alise gave a small nod and ghosted away, back to pacing a circuit of the deck.
Thymara had rolled her trousers up to her knees. As she swung her legs, her scales glittered silver in the sunlight. She sat hunched over, but Jerd sat straight and tall, almost pushing her stomach out. Alise envied them: they had so much freedom. No one fretted that they were showing too much leg, or even that they might fall in. Everyone on the vessel assumed they knew what they were about and left them to it. They reminded her of Althea Trell and how competently she had moved about the deck of the Paragon. Althea, she reminded herself, was of Bingtown Trader stock, just as she was. So she could not really blame where she came from for the limitations on her. No, she realized slowly. She was the one who had accepted those limitations and brought them with her. She was the one who lived by the restrictive rules.
She thought of Leftrin with frustration and longing. She sensed in him tenderness and passion, two things she had never received from Hest. Leftrin woke like feelings in her. Why couldn’t she just go to him and give herself to him as she longed to? The man obviously wanted to bed her, and she wanted him.
There was a wild part of her that insisted they were too far up this strange river, and that she did not need to worry about what might happen to her after she returned to Bingtown. That part believed that she might never return at all. And whether she died on this mad adventure or lived it out to the end, shouldn’t she live all of it, have all of it, instead of holding back from it? Coldly she realized that Sedric was not here to look at her with doleful accusing eyes. Her conscience was gone; she could do as she pleased.
“It’s a lovelier day with you on the deck, my dear.”
She felt a warm rush of pleasure at hearing his voice and turned to find Leftrin bearing down on her. He carried two cups of tea. As she took the heavy, stained mug from his calloused and scaled hand, she thought of how she might have flinched away from him only a month ago. She would have wondered if the mug were clean and tsked over the stale tea. Now she knew that the mug had been given only a tiny swirl of water to clean it, or perhaps been wiped out with a rag. Knew and didn’t care. As for the tea, well…She toasted him with her mug. “Best tea to be had for miles around!”
“It is that,” he agreed. “And the best company to be had in the entire world, I’m thinking.”
She laughed softly and looked down at her hands. Her freckles were dark against her water-scalded skin. She didn’t want to think about her face and hair. She had glanced at them in the small dim mirror in her cabin after she had brushed and pinned up her hair and given it up as hopeless. “How can you give me such outrageous compliments and not sound foolish doing it?”
“Maybe you’re the right audience for such words. And maybe I don’t care if I sound foolish, for I know it’s the truth.”
“Oh, Leftrin.” She turned to look out over the river, resting her teacup on the ship’s railing. “What are we going to do?” She hadn’t known she was going to ask him that. The question came out of her as naturally as the steam that rose off her tea.
He purposely misunderstood her. “Well, Carson left before dawn. We’re going to hold in place here for a day. The dragons can rest a bit and gorge some more. A little bit upriver, they found an eddy full of acid-killed fish. So we’ll let them eat and rest while Carson continues the search. He’ll go another full day down the river. If he finds survivors, he’ll guide them back to us. If he finds nothing, he’ll give it up and come on back to us. He took the horn with him, and the sound carries quite a ways. I heard him blow three long blasts, not that long ago.”
“I didn’t hear it.”
“Well, it was faint, and I’m accustomed to listening for such things.” Something in his tone rang oddly to her. She sensed a secret but was willing, for now, to let it go.
“Do you think he’ll find anyone else?”
“It’s impossible to predict a thing like that. But we found almost all our survivors in one place. So, it seems to me that what that river picked up in one place, it kept mostly together and dumped in another place.”
He stopped talking, but she pieced his logic together. “So you think that if anyone survived to be found, they would have been with us.”
He nodded reluctantly. “Most likely. But we found that dragon off by he
rself.”
“And Warken’s body.”
“And the body,” he agreed. “That says to me that most everything that was in our area when the wave hit was carried by the wash to this area.”
She was silent for a time. “Heeby and Rapskal? The copper dragon?”
“Probably dead and on the bottom. Or buried under debris. Dead dragons that size wouldn’t be hard to spot.”
“And Sedric?”
His silence was longer than hers had been. Finally he said, “Speaking bluntly, Alise, the keepers survived because they’re tough. Their skin can stand up to these waters. They all know how to climb a tree if they can get to one. They’re made for this life. Sedric wasn’t. There was no muscle to that man to begin with, and his long days of lying abed, sick or not, would only have weakened him more. I try to imagine him swimming in that wave, and I can’t. I fear he’s gone. It’s not your fault. I don’t think it’s my fault, either. I think it’s just what happened.”
Did he mention fault only because he secretly knew it was her fault? “I brought him into this, Leftrin. He wasn’t your idea of tough, I know. But in his own way, he was strong, capable, and very competent. He was Hest’s right hand. I’ll never know why he decided to send him with me.” Her words stuttered to a halt. Unless Hest had believed that she deserved the kind of watching over her that Sedric had tried to provide.
“I wasn’t saying he wasn’t a good man, only that I doubted he was a good swimmer,” Leftrin said gently. “And we don’t have to give up hope. We’ve got a strong man looking for him. I think Carson wants to find him as badly as you do.”
“I’m grateful to him. I don’t know how to thank him for being so determined.”
Leftrin gave a small cough. “Well, I think he’s hoping that Sedric will do the thanking. Them being the same kind of men and all.”
“The same kind of men? I can’t think of two men more unlike.”
Leftrin shot her an odd look and then shrugged. “Like enough in the ways that matter to them, I’m thinking. But let’s let that go. It’s enough to say that Carson won’t give up easily.”