by Robin Hobb
Sedric barely managed to dodge out of his way as Davvie stamped away down the stairs.
“Well. A misunderstanding, on all parts, I see.” Hest seemed completely unruffled. He smoothed the hair back from his brow and smiled at them both. “You shouldn’t blame your boy, Carson.” He smiled at Sedric as he added, “He’s not the first youngster to find me attractive. Though I did misjudge how ready he was for me. Moved a bit fast for him, I supppose.” He tugged his cuffs straight.
For the first time, Sedric noted the red spot on Hest’s left cheekbone. So. The boy had landed one on him.
Hest seemed to feel his gaze. He lifted his eyes to meet Sedric’s and added, “Not like Sedric. He needed the game. And he was very, very ready for me.”
Sedric found his voice. His words were soft. “You’re right, Hest. I was ready. Ready for you, or any other predator. Just as naive as Davvie.”
“Predator?” Hest lifted one sculpted brow. He transferred his gaze to Carson. “Is this his new pretense, perhaps for you? Nothing was his decision, I ‘preyed’ on him? Ridiculous. He was only too enthused to put himself into my control. He relished every moment of it, and he was a very apt student. I trust you’ve enjoyed all I taught him?”
Carson made a small sound. Sedric shot his hand out to rest on the hunter’s chest. He felt oddly calm as he said, “Davvie was right about one thing, Carson. You didn’t need to protect him. And you don’t have to protect me, either.”
The hunter looked at him with unreadable eyes. “Please go,” Sedric added quietly.
Consternation and then hurt showed in his dark eyes. “I need to do this,” Sedric said even more softly. “Trust me.”
Carson’s gaze searched Sedric’s soul. Then he gave one slow nod and moved stoically away down the stairs.
“Well, well.” Hest turned away from Sedric. He ran his hand along the tiles and set the dragons to dancing. He didn’t turn to look at him. “Are you ready to come to your senses and return to Bingtown with me?”
“No.”
“Oh, come. You’ve made your point. You left me, and I will tell you that I quickly discovered just how hard it was to replace you. I shouldn’t have mocked your plan for us. I still think trafficking in dragon parts was a foolish venture, and I think events have proven me right. Am I correct in guessing that your current friend knows nothing of what your original intent was?”
Sedric found his heart thumping against his ribs. Why? Why was this so hard? He cleared his throat. “I doubt there is anything you could tell him that he doesn’t already know about me. He’s not like you, Hest. He listens when I talk.”
“I should have listened, I’ll admit that.” Hest turned to look at him. The damn boy had landed two good blows to his ribs. They still hurt, but the epitaph “old man” that he had thrown had hurt even more. At least Sedric seemed to be coming to his senses. He’d sent his forest man away. Hest sensed what he wanted. Just enough sentiment to allow him to come back to Hest. And a touch of the old mastery to remind him how much he’d enjoyed it. Had he felt a moment of jealousy when he came upon Hest and the flustered boy? Hest thought so. He’d noticed how Sedric’s eyes had lingered on his face.
“It’s not too late for us,” Hest said. He let his voice go deep on the words and was secretly delighted with the look of incredulity that blossomed on Sedric’s face. He liked the scaling, he decided. Showing off Sedric’s changed appearance in Bingtown would definitely add a fillip of triumph to his return. He was fairly confident that if he returned with Sedric’s share of the wealth of Kelsingra to set at his father’s feet, the old man would forgive the absence of his wife. His mother would certainly understand that Alise had become completely unsuitable to share their name. He’d tell her what he’d seen, and then beg her mercy and discretion in letting him quietly annul his marriage to Alise. He wouldn’t marry again. Let his father name who he wanted as his heir. With Sedric’s share of Kelsingra, he wouldn’t need the family money to live very well indeed.
It could all be managed. All of it. Beginning with Sedric. “You were right. I admit it, and I apologize for doubting you. You gambled yourself and won us a fortune. I can’t even calculate the value of what you’ve won for us. It isn’t just in what we can take out of the city. People will want to come here, to visit. To have country homes, perhaps. Everything you dreamed for us can come true. Here, we can live openly, in luxury, as we wish. And when we go back to Bingtown, we can enjoy the best of everything the civilized world has to offer. Sedric, my boy, you’ve done it.”
“I’m not your ‘boy,’ Hest.” The words were spoken so quietly.
Hest shifted his tactics slightly. “How well I know that. Ah, well, we’ve both changed, haven’t we? Sweet Sa, if you knew the half of what I’ve gone through to find you and bring you home! Well, someday we’ll share that tale with the fellows, won’t we? And have a good laugh about your sojourn in the wilderness. I’ll wager you’re more than ready for a comfortable home and a glass of good wine. And an evening alone with me.” He smiled at him, an inviting smile that Sedric would well recall. He licked his lips.
Sedric was meeting his gaze steadily. His mouth was flat, unsmiling, his eyes unreadable. “No, Hest. No to all of it.”
“No?” His grin grew wider. “Ah, you’ve always begun by saying no to me, haven’t you? Sedric, you want me to make you change your mind, don’t you? Well, I don’t mind that. I don’t mind that at all.”
Hest swayed slightly as he advanced. Sedric watched him come, preoccupied with trying to decide what it reminded him of. And then he knew. A snake. A snake after a mouse.
Except that he wasn’t a mouse anymore. As Hest reached for him, Sedric shot his fist out, pivoting to put his weight into it. He felt it connect solidly, saw the other man stumble back against the wall. “No,” he said again as Hest lifted both hands to his bleeding mouth. “No to all of it.”
He turned and went down the stairs. He didn’t look back. He went out of the baths and spotted Carson at the bottom of the steps, deep in conversation with Davvie. He was listening while Davvie gesticulated and then threw a punch at the air. Then the youngster looked up at his uncle earnestly. Sedric couldn’t hear what was said, but at the end of it, he saw the hunter nod gravely. He reached out to tousle the boy’s hair. In midreach, he suddenly changed the gesture to a clap on the shoulder. Davvie gave him a nod and a half smile before turning away from him. So. It wasn’t all right, not completely, but in time, it would be.
Sedric increased the length of his stride and caught up with Carson as he started to walk away. He linked arms with him and then flinched when Carson covered his hand with his own.
Carson looked down and then glanced up at him in surprise. “Your knuckles are bleeding.”
“Are they?” Sedric held his hand up for his own inspection. “No.” He wiped the blood off on his cloak. “They’re just bruised.”
“Let me see.” He took Sedric’s hand, studied the puffing knuckles, then lifted it to his mouth. He kissed them gently, gravely. “All better,” he told him.
Sedric bit his lower lip to keep it from trembling, but he didn’t try to hide the tears that rose in his eyes at Carson’s tenderness. “I think you’re right,” he agreed huskily.
They both startled as dragons trumpeted, a peculiar note in their cries. The sound was passed from one creature to the next, until it filled the sky over the city and echoed back from the hills. “What are they going on about?” Sedric wondered.
“It’s an alarm. A stranger approaches.” Carson was already studying the air above them.
Sedric lifted his eyes to the sky. He didn’t ask Carson how he knew these things. The hunter just did. After a scan, he pointed. “There. Right at the horizon, very low. Black dragon. Kalo?”
Carson squeezed his shoulder. “You’ve a good eye, Bingtown boy. But that’s not Kalo. He’s bigger than Kalo. And Kalo was soaking in the baths.” He squinted. “No. That’s not one of our dragons.”
Th
e dragons shrieked again, more urgently, and began to converge, coming from all corners of the world to spiral above Kelsingra.
“Icefyre.” Sedric spoke the name aloud. “It has to be the drake that Tintaglia spoke of. But why does he come here?”
Damn, but it hurt. Hest took his hand away from his mouth, looked at the blood running down his wrist and grimaced. This sort of play had rules, as he had so clearly established with Sedric years ago! What was Sedric learning among these brutes? There was a limit, and Sedric had just found it. Play was play, but marring Hest’s face was never on the menu. He’d pay for it now.
His fingers found the split in his lower lip. The taste of blood was all through his mouth; his own teeth had cut into his cheek. He blotted his lip on his cuff and scowled at the spreading stain as he walked to the top of the steps. “Sedric!” he barked, and then winced at the pain of shouting. “You’ve gone too far, Sedric! You know that.”
He knew Sedric, knew him better than he knew himself. He always had, and that had been why he’d always been able to manage him. Sedric would be waiting at the bottom of the flight of steps, already repentant, already frightened by his own defiance. Perhaps weeping and desiring forgiveness and comfort. He dabbed at his split lip again, and his tongue found a loosened tooth. Damn him!
Forgiveness and comfort? He would get neither until he had apologized and atoned. And demonstrated his contrition. He waited. Don’t break the discipline. Make Sedric come back to him. Don’t let him think I’m going to come running after him. Let him worry for a bit. Let him see I truly don’t need him anymore. It was always important to establish who was in charge early.
Hest jumped and then cowered at the first blast of dragon trumpets. When the racket continued, he straightened slowly. It wasn’t an attack. They wouldn’t attack their own city. Probably nothing more serious than dogs barking at one another, or howling at the moon. His mouth hurt, his ribs ached, and he decided he had waited long enough. Let Sedric think he had won this round. Give him a tiny triumph so he didn’t feel totally beaten. It would make their next encounter even more interesting when Hest brought him back to his knees. He started down the stairs.
He reached the next landing, but Sedric wasn’t there. Nor on the next. “Sedric!” He put a sharper note into his voice. He was wearying of this game. The youngster had bruised him; Sedric had cut his mouth and now this foolish chase. Not amusing. None of it.
He reached the main floor and scanned the foyer. No sign of Sedric. The door to the plaza was ajar, and a chorus of dragon noises and people’s raised voices washed in. A young man’s voice was suddenly raised, the higher pitch cutting through the noise. “It’s as I told you! It’s not revenge. It’s self-preservation. They’ve given us no choice!”
No. Sedric would not seek out that sort of conflict, not right now. Sedric had no interest in politics. And he would have only one thing on his mind. He would want to be alone when Hest found him. The baths? It hurt his mouth to smile. Of course. What better site for reconciliation and reunion?
He pushed open the huge door to the room. It moved easily for such a large slab. Designed for the dragons who shared it, of course. He found it a rather disgusting concept but had no objection to bathing there when no dragons were about.
But one was. The immense creature, so dark blue as to be almost black, had just emerged from the water. The liquid was sheeting off his gleaming hide, running in rivulets onto the floor. It was obviously trying to leave via the door Hest had just entered. Hest halted where he stood and eyed the wet animal disdainfully. He crabbed a few steps sideways to try and see past him. “Sedric!” he called.
Not here.
The dragon’s voice was a low rumble, the force of his thought against Hest’s mind almost stunning. Others had claimed to hear the dragons speaking to them, but he had dismissed those claims as the product of susceptible minds. But there was no mistaking this. The dragon had spoken to him and he had understood it. Fascinating. He halted and stared at him, Sedric forgotten for the moment.
The dragon clamor outside grew louder.
Move out of my way.
This close, he suddenly realized how magnificent a creature a dragon might be. Like a prize stud horse. Only much larger. As with a horse, he knew the key was to dominate it. “My name is Hest.” He kept his words simple and spoke clearly. “Do you have a name, dragon? What does your owner call you?”
The animal cocked his immense head like a puzzled dog. Then he yawned, showing some extremely large teeth and the interior of his mouth patterned in scarlet and yellow. He exhaled strongly, a foul blast of meat-scented moisture. You are standing where I am going to walk. The others call to me.
Hest stood firm. “Dragon, come here.” He extended his hand and pointed to a spot directly in front of him.
When Hest didn’t move, the dragon came a step nearer. Good. Obedience seemed to come to it easily. It spoke again. Davvie serves me. The dragon’s eyes seemed to whirl slowly, thoughtfully. Davvie does not like you. But I think I might.
Hest stood his ground, his mind spinning with new thoughts, as the creature came closer to him. The dragon obeyed him, and he could understand what it said. The dragon might prefer him to Davvie. Better and better. Let the boy think on that when Hest took his dragon. Yes, and let Carson and Sedric mull it over, too. He imagined himself returning to Bingtown as an Elderling astride his own dragon. If he took the dragon, if he became an Elderling, would not he be able to claim his own place in Kelsingra, regardless of what Alise or Sedric thought of him?
It was perfect. Vengeance, beauty, long life, and wealth were all within his reach. All he had to do was master the dragon and transfer its loyalty from Davvie to himself.
The dragon had come very close now. He was quite a stunning creature, really. Extraordinary. What was it like to own a dragon? Sedric had one, as did his primitive friend. Even the little pink girl with the gold scaling had a dragon. How hard could it be to master one if someone like Sedric had done it?
The dragon’s eyes spun like whirlpools, gleaming swirls of deepest blue mixed with black. Hest imagined himself dressed in black and silver, astride the creature. A black saddle and bridle, trimmed in silver and blue. They would alight in the center of the main market in Bingtown, midmorning when the trade was thickest. He imagined how people would point and shout as they looked up at him on his circling dragon. They would scatter before him as they swooped down. “All eyes will be on me,” Hest murmured, entranced by his vision. He reached out to touch the dragon’s muzzle.
It swung its head aside from his touch. That wouldn’t do. “Dragon, stand still when I reach for you.” Dragon? That wouldn’t do. Evidently Davvie had neglected to give his animal a name to answer to. Hest would correct that right now. “I will give you a name now, a special name to show you are mine.” Easy enough. No harder than naming a horse or dog. “Your name is Blue Glory now. Blue Glory. Do you understand, dragon? You’re mine now, not Davvie’s, and you have to learn to obey me. So when I call you Blue Glory, you should come to me. And stand still when I reach to touch you.” Hest spoke simply and firmly, dominating the animal with his stance and stare. He radiated confidence and command as he reached out a hand to rest it on the dragon’s muzzle.
The animal’s eyes were spinning more rapidly. Deep gold sparks seemed to ride the whirlpool of blue and black.
“That’s better, Blue Glory. The sooner we understand each other, the easier this will be.”
Just as his fingertips brushed the animal’s scaling, the dragon swung his head aside, lifting his head high and looking down on Hest. “I understand you, human. And I think I will give you a special name, too.” The words rode a low rumble of sound from the beast.
Extraordinary. But an excellent sign of how swiftly they were bonding. Hest smiled at his dragon. “Shall I help you, Blue Glory? You could call me Glory’s Master. Or Silver Rider.”
The dragon still looked down on him, considering each name carefully. His eyes
spun faster and faster. “No. I think not,” he said, and amusement shimmered in the rumbling voice. “I think I will name you ‘Meat.’ ”
Then the creature turned his head sideways, his jaws opened wide, and the gleaming teeth and brilliantly colored maw came at Hest, swift as a serpent’s strike. Hest jumped back, shouting in anger and fear, but the trumpeting of dragons outside swelled loud. Hest spun and dived for the steaming bath. The dragon snapped after him, and he felt a sharp tug at his leg before he fell free into the water. It had barely missed him.
The water was hot, almost scalding. Hest fought his way to the surface, sputtering and shuddering. He shook water from his eyes, snorted it out of his nose, and looked up to see the dragon standing at the edge of the pool. “I do like you,” the creature said, and there was no mistaking the amusement in its voice. “You’re delicious.”
Hest drew a deep breath and prepared to dive beneath the steaming water. In one awful moment he glimpsed the red swirls in the water around him and grasped their significance. The dragon had not missed him. His leg was bleeding badly.
No.
His leg was gone.
He screamed then in the full horror of what had befallen him. Hest with one leg? Hest a pathetic cripple whom others would mock? “NO!” he shouted.
“Yes,” rumbled Blue Glory.
The open jaws closed on him, and his last scream was engulfed in the scarlet and yellow cavern of the dragon’s maw.
Day the 16th of the Plough Moon
Year the 7th of the Independent Alliance of Traders
From Erek Dunwarrow and Detozi, Keeper of the Birds, Trehaug
To Reyall, Keeper of the Birds, Bingtown
Reyall, it may soon be that the Masters of the Birds in Bingtown will request you to bring to them all my breeding records, including my side notes and nicknames for the birds, for an intense inspection and review. Please do not be alarmed. I wish you to be completely forthcoming with them and have complete confidence that I do not have anything I wish to hide.