by Robin Hobb
“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 fal
ls 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.”
Jerd was silent and white-faced, staring up at her.
Bellin faced her squarely. “Do you want to see your daughter before she goes over the side?”
“I…no. No, I don’t.” Jerd began to weep noisily.
Bellin looked at her for a moment. Then she gave her head a short shake. “You’ll be fine. Lie there until the afterbirth comes out, and I’ll stay here with you. Skelly. Take the child. You’ve helped me before. You know what has to be done.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Skelly didn’t hesitate, even though she paled. She stepped forward and, as tenderly as if the child were alive, Bellin put the tiny thing into her hands. She caught the girl’s wrists before she could turn away. “You remember this,” she said roughly to the girl. The tears that had begun to trickle down the woman’s cheeks put the lie to the harshness of her voice. “You remember, when you think we’re just being cruel to you, that there’s a reason for the rules. The rules are to keep you from hurting yourself. Every girl always thinks she’s smarter than the rules, always thinks she can break them and get away with it. But you can’t. And I can’t. So you remember that, next time you’re sneaking around and kissing that boy and letting him touch you. The rules aren’t there to be mean. They’re there to make life a bit less unfair to everyone.”
Bellin’s eyes slid to Thymara and Sylve. Somehow, she had taken Sylve’s hand and was clutching it tightly. Sylve’s grip was as tight as her own. She felt six years old as the older woman pierced her with a stare. “You two help Skelly. And you think about what I said. And know this. If I catch you opening your legs to a boy on this ship, keeper or crew, it’s going to hurt. And humiliate. Because that’s a lot better than what we just had to go through here today.”
Thymara bobbed a small stiff nod. Skelly edged past them in the crowded bunk room floor space. They followed her out into the open air. As they came out on the deck, they formed a small procession. Skelly went first, bearing the tiny wrapped bundle. They passed Hennesey and Eider. The mate shook his head sadly, and Big Eider looked aside. As they approached the stern, a cluster of keeper boys rose and evaporated, scattering throughout the ship. No one spoke to them or asked them what they were about, but Thymara was sure that every one of them knew, and she wondered how many of them thought they might have fathered the child. Or had that thought left their minds when Greft had stepped in to say he’d be responsible?
Bellin’s words rankled. She thought of how Greft had said he would establish a place where there were new rules. Had he thought about why the rules existed, and who they protected?
The girls reached the railing. To Thymara’s surprise, Jerd’s dragon, Veras, was there. Like all of the dragons, she had grown larger, and her colors were brighter. She did not speak to any of them. They all knew why she was there. A little shiver went up Thymara’s spine, and then she accepted it. Jerd’s stillborn baby would be eaten by her dragon. Was that any worse than letting the tiny body drop into the water for fish to find?
Swarge was on the tiller. He looked up at them with a grave expression and sad eyes. Thymara knew this would not be the first stillborn child he had seen tipped over the side. He lowered his eyes and his lips moved, perhaps in a silent prayer. Skelly began to extend her hands and the wrapped bundle over the railing. Veras lifted her head.
“Wait.” Sylve spoke abruptly. “I want to see it…her. I want to see the baby before she’s gone forever. One of us at least should look at her.”
“Are you sure?” Skelly asked.
“I am,” Sylve replied. Thymara couldn’t find words but gave a single stiff nod.
Sylve rested the small body on the railing as she folded the concealing rag back. Thymara found herself looking at a tiny creature who would have fitted in her cupped hands with room to spare. The little round head was tucked in toward her chest, and the tiny arms were folded tight to her chest. As Bellin had said, she had no legs, only a finned tail. Another partially formed fin was on her back. “She couldn’t have lived,” Sylve confirmed, and Thymara nodded.
Veras stretched her neck and Sylve reached out and, as gently as she could, rolled the child into the dragon’s mouth. Veras closed her jaws and immediately turned her head aside and wheeled away from the ship. It was done.
CARSON HAD DECIDED to act on the assumption that Greft was attempting to head back to Trehaug. “Where else could he go?” he asked Sedric. “He’s a man in failing health, alone. He doesn’t have a lot of choice. One of his options was to remain with us. He decided against that. He must have felt there was too much hostility for him to endure. That makes me wonder why he’d try to get back to Trehaug. I doubt he’d be treated any better there. He’s looking at traveling a long, hard way alone, to die among the people who rejected him in the first place.”
Sedric nodded silently. He had a guilty theory of his own, one he kept to himself. He hoped he was wrong.
They had been backtracking through the reeds and shallow water, though how Carson knew where to go, Sedric could not have said. For days, the scenery had seemed unendingly the same to him. From time to time, Carson would say something like, “See, the dragons trampled that area flat when they came through here,” or, “Remember that stand of rushes with the three blackbird nests in a row? We passed that late yesterday.”
They had come to an area of scrubby brush on stilt roots. There was no solid ground anywhere, but the feeble current pushed floating branches and twigs and reeds up around the stilt roots where they formed soggy mattresses of plant material. This seemed to be the favorite bedding spots for gallators. The immense, toothy salamanders dozed in clusters in such places, the pallid bodies marked with brilliant stripes of blue and red. The wet-skinned creatures had proven especially vulnerable to dragon venom. Just touching the moist skin of a gallator was death for most creatures, but the dragons ate them with no apparent ill effects.
This area Sedric did remember clearly. Yesterday, the dragons had preceded them, devouring a number of gallators and sending the rest into hiding. But today the dozing creatures did not flee; instead, they lifted their heads and regarded the small boat with hungry interest. Sedric glanced around for Spit, only to discover that this was the time when the dragon had chosen to lag behind. “Carson?” he hissed in quiet warning as two of the gallators launched silently into the water and vanished from sight beneath the surface.
“I saw them,” Carson replied as quietly. He lifted his paddle from the water, and Sedric did the same. “Hold tight. They may try to overturn us, but these boats don’t flip too easily.” He glanced back at the lagging Spit and shook his head ruefully. “Little bastard is using us as chum, to lure the gallators away from cover. That’s nice, Spit, real nice.” He took a slow, steady breath. “Hol
d tight to the seat, not the sides. You don’t want any part of your body outside the boat. Move as little as you can. The less alive and meaty we look, the better.”
Sedric quickly shifted his grip. They sat still, waiting. There was a tentative bump against the bottom of the boat. Sedric tightened his grip on the seat, felt his nails press against the hard wood. Carson was turned on his seat, watching him, a tense grin on his face. A short fishing spear was in his hand. Sedric moistened his lips and felt a second, harder bump, followed by a sideways push. Carson mouthed the words “Be still” at him. That wasn’t a problem. He felt too scared to move.
Then came an impact that lifted Sedric’s end of the boat out of the water. It settled with a splash and at the same moment, a gallator struck it from the side. The boat tipped far enough to ship some water, but righted itself. The gallator surged at the boat again but could not get its squat-necked head into it. Carson reared back and, with a huff of effort, sank the fishing spear into the thing’s neck. It gave a gurgled squeal and fell back into the water. The slime it had left on the side of the boat stank.
“Hang on TIGHT!” Carson’s terse warning came just in time. Sedric tightened his grip just as the boat was struck from the other side. His body whipped with the impact, and nearly slammed him against the toxic slime oozing down the side of the boat. A buffet of wind hit them, and then a tremendous splash of water. It soaked Sedric and added more water to what was already in the boat.
It took a few seconds for him to understand that Spit had been briefly airborne. The little silver dragon had actually managed a moment of flight before splashing down beside the boat and nearly swamping it. The cold water had driven the breath from Sedric’s lungs. He was still shuddering and gasping when Spit lifted a struggling gallator from the water and joyously sheared it in half. As the two bloody halves fell from his jaws, the dragon darted his head under the water and came up with a second gallator. This one he gripped by its head, and it thrashed wildly, showering water and toxins in a spray. Both Carson and Sedric cowered in the boat, covering their faces until Spit clamped his jaws and the creature stilled in death.