Blood of Dragons

by Robin Hobb

  ‘Be quiet. You are useless but you are the only tool I have. I have done here what could be done with these wretched fools. Sinad Arich and Begasti Cored had failed; I was almost sure of that when I was sent to see what delayed them. So, I have removed them from my path. I have also removed your Redding; you chose poorly when you selected him as your hands. He vomited when Arich opened his gift. When I entered the room, he very nearly fainted. Then he screamed like a woman when I killed Arich. This is the sort of man you choose as a companion?’

  ‘I knew him all our lives,’ Hest heard himself say. He spoke numbly, scarcely able to comprehend that Redding was no more. Redding clambering up on a table to offer a toast. Redding trying on cloaks at their favourite tailor’s shop. Redding, one eyebrow lifted as he leaned close to share an absolutely scandalous bit of gossip. Redding on his knees, lips wet, teasing Hest. Redding on his belly, eyes going dull. All their lives, and now Redding’s life was ended. No more Redding. ‘I have no idea how to get dragon parts for you,’ he said flatly.

  ‘I’m not surprised,’ the Chalcedean replied. ‘But you’ll find out. ’

  ‘How? What are you talking about? What can I possibly do?’

  The Chalcedean shook his head wearily. ‘Did you think I didn’t ask questions about you? Do you think I don’t know all about your wife? And your connections here as the future Trader for your family? I brought you here to use you, to find out all that can be discovered of the dragons and your dear little woman. When we know, we will follow them—’

  ‘No boat will carry us up the river!’ Hest dared to interrupt.

  The Chalcedean barked out a laugh. ‘Actually, it was all arranged before we departed from Bingtown. Did you think it all a coincidence that one of the new “impervious” boats should happen to be departing at such an auspicious time for you? That it had but one cabin left for a passenger? Fool. ’

  ‘Then … you were on the same ship as we were?’

  ‘Of course. But enough of the obvious. We have still a task here tonight, and that is to make things less obvious before we sleep. ’

  ‘Less obvious?’

  ‘You have bodies to dispose of. First, you must strip them of all clothing, the better to destroy their identities. ’ The Chalcedean paused thoughtfully. ‘And it would be better if their faces were not easily recognized by anyone. ’ He drew out one of his nasty little knives as he crouched by Arich’s body. ‘You can be stripping him while I take care of this one’s face. ’ He did not turn as he added, ‘And we must be quick. This is but the first of our tasks tonight. Hest Finbok has some letters to write, notes offering a very profitable association with his family, but one of the most confidential nature. That, I think, will draw our hidden friends out of their lairs and to the edge of the precipice. Just where we want them. ’

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  Day the 26th of the Fish Moon

  Year the 7th of the Independent Alliance of Traders

  From Ronica Vestrit of the Vestrit Traders, Bingtown

  To Whatever Incompetent Bird Keeper is accepting messages in Cassarick

  The patron requests this be posted in the Bird Keepers’ Guild Hall

  Once might be an accident. Twice might be coincidence. Four times is deliberate spying. You have been tampering with all messages sent to me from Cassarick. Messages sent to me from Malta Vestrit Khuprus have been received with seals damaged or missing, as well as a very recent message sent from Jani Khuprus. It is obvious to us that you are targeting messages moving between the Khuprus and Vestrit Trader families.

  It is also obvious that you think us both stupid and ignorant of how the Guild employs birds and bird keepers. You will note that this message reaches you attached to the leg of one of the birds from your cote, birds you are personally responsible for. Although the Guild has refused to name you by name, I know that they now know who is responsible for at least some of the tampering. I have filed a complaint against you specifically, citing the leg-band marks of the birds that have arrived bearing damaged messages for me.

  Your days as a bird keeper are numbered. You are a disgrace to the Rain Wild Traders and to the family that bore you. Shame upon you for betraying your oaths of confidentiality and loyalty. Trade cannot prosper where there is spying and deception. People like you do damage to us all.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Dragon Blood

  ‘He looks sick,’ the Duke objected.

  Chancellor Ellik lowered his eyes silently, humiliated that his duke would publicly disparage the gift he had brought, but he would bow his head and accept it. He had no choice in that, and it pleased the Duke to keep him aware of that.

  The private audience room was warm, possibly stifling to some of those in attendance. The Duke had lost so much flesh that he felt cold all the time, even on a fine spring day. Fires crackled in both the large hearths, the stone floors were thickly carpeted and the walls draped with tapestries. Soft, warm robes swaddled the Duke’s thin body. Still, he felt chilled, though sweat stood on the faces of the six guardsmen who attended him. The only others in the room were his Chancellor and the creature he had dragged in with him.

  The chained dragon-man, the Elderling that stood before him, did not sweat. He was thin, with sunken eyes and lank hair. Ellik had allowed him only a loincloth, doubtless the better to show off his scaled flesh. A pity it also showed his ribs and how the knobs of his elbows and knees stood out. A bandage was bound to one of his shoulders. Not at all the glorious being that the Duke had anticipated.

  ‘I am sick. ’

  The creature’s voice startled him. It was not just that he could speak; his voice was stronger than the Duke would have expected it to be, given his condition. Moreover, he spoke in Chalcedean. It was accented but clear enough.

  The Elderling coughed as if to illustrate that he spoke the truth, the light sort of throat-clearing one did when afraid that coughing hard enough to clear the mucus would hurt more than it was worth. The Duke was familiar with that sort of cough. The creature drew the back of one slender blue-scaled hand across his mouth, sighed and then lifted his eyes to meet the Duke’s stare. When he let his hands drop back to his sides, the chains on his wrists rattled. His eyes were human, in this light, but when he had first been brought into the chamber his gaze had seemed lambent like a cat’s, gleaming blue in the candlelight.

  ‘Silence!’ Ellik spat the word at his creature. ‘Silence and on your knees before the Duke. ’ He expressed his frustration with a sharp jerk on the dragon-man’s chain and the creature stumbled forward, falling to his knees and barely catching himself on his hands.

  The dragon-man cried out as he slapped the floor and then, with difficulty, straightened so that he was kneeling. He glared hatred at Ellik.

  As the Chancellor drew his fist back, the Duke intervened. ‘So. It can talk, can it? Let it speak, Chancellor. It amuses me. ’ The Duke could see that this did not please Ellik. All the more reason to hear what the dragon-man would say.

  The scaled man cleared his throat but still spoke hoarsely. His courtesy was that of a man on the crumbling edge of sanity. The Duke was familiar with that sort of final clutching at normality. Why did desperate men believe that logic and formality could restore them to a life that had vanished?

  ‘My name is Selden Vestrit of the Bingtown Traders, fostered by the Khuprus family of the Rain Wild Traders, and Singer to the Dragon Tintaglia. But perhaps you know that?’ The man looked up into the Duke’s face hopefully. When he saw no recognition there, he resumed speaking. ‘Tintaglia chose me to serve her, and I was glad to do so. She gave me a task. The dragon bid me go forth, to see if I could find others of her kind or hear any tales of them. And I went. I journeyed far with a group of Traders. I went for love of the dragon, but they went in the hope of gaining her favour and somehow turning that favour to wealth. But no matter where we went, our search was fruitless. The others wanted to turn back, but I knew I had to
go on. ’

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  Once more, his eyes searched the Duke’s impassive face for some sort of sympathy or interest. The Duke allowed his face to betray no interest in the tale. The dragon-singer’s voice was more subdued when he went on. ‘Eventually, my own people betrayed me. The Traders I travelled with dismissed our quest. I think they felt I had betrayed them, had led them on a foolish venture that had used up their money and gained them nothing. They stole everything I had and at the next port, they sold me as a slave. My new “owners” took me far to the south and displayed me at markets and crossroads fairs. But then, when my novelty waned, and I began to get sick, they sold me again. I was shipped north, but pirates took our vessel and I changed hands. I was bought as a freak to be displayed to the curious. Somehow, your Chancellor learned of my existence and brought me here. And now, I have come to you. ’

  The Duke had known nothing of that. He wondered if Ellik had, but he did not look at his Chancellor. The dragon-man held his attention. He spoke persuasively, this ‘dragon-singer’. His voice was rough, the music gone from it, but the cadence and tone of his words would have been convincing to a less susceptible man. The Duke made no response to him. Desperation broke into his voice on his next words and the Duke wondered if he were younger than he appeared.

  ‘Those who claimed to own me and sold me were liars! I am not a slave. I have never committed any crime to be punished with slavery, nor ever been a citizen of any place where such a punishment is accepted. If you will not free me on my own word that my imprisonment is unjust, then let me send word to my people. They will buy my freedom back from you. ’ He coughed again, harder this time, and pain spasmed across his face with each rough exhalation. He barely managed to remain kneeling upright, and when he wiped his mouth, his lips remained wet with mucus. It was a disgusting display.

  The Duke regarded him coldly. ‘Now I know your name, but who you are does not matter to me. It is what you are that brings you here. You are part dragon and that is all I care about. ’ He considered his options. ‘How long have you been ill?’

  ‘No. You are wrong. I am not part dragon. I am a man, changed by a dragon. My mother is from Bingtown, but my father was a Chalcedean, Kyle Haven. He was a sea captain. A man just like you. ’

  The creature dared to knot his fists as he advanced on his knees. Ellik jerked on the leash he held and the Elderling gave a wordless cry of pain. Ellik spurned him casually with a booted foot, pushing him over on his side. The creature glared up at him. The Chancellor set his boot on the chained Elderling’s throat and for a moment the Duke recognized the warrior Ellik had once been.

  ‘You had best find some courtesy, Elderling, or I will teach you some myself. ’ Ellik spoke severely, but the Duke wondered if it was truly out of respect for him, or if he wanted to silence the creature before his ‘gift’ could deny his bloodlines again. It didn’t matter. The fine scaling, the blue colouration, even the gleaming eyes proved he was not human. A clever lie, to pretend his father was Chalcedean. Clever as a dragon, as the saying went.

  ‘How long have you been ill?’ the Duke demanded again.

  ‘I don’t know. ’ The Elderling had lost his defiance. He did not look up at the Duke as he spoke. ‘It is hard to tell the passage of time from inside a dark ship’s belly. But I was already ill when they sold me, and sick when the pirates took the ship I was on. For a time, they feared to touch me, and not just because of my appearance. ’ He coughed again, curling inward where he lay.

  ‘He is down to bone,’ the Duke observed.

  ‘Such, I believe, is their natural shape,’ Ellik suggested cautiously. ‘To be long and thin like that. There are some few images of them in old scrolls that depict them that way. Tall and scaled. ’

  ‘Has he fever?’

  ‘He is warmer perhaps than a man, but again, such may be the way of his kind. ’

  ‘I am sick!’ the creature declared again, with more force. ‘I’ve lost flesh, I cannot take a deep breath, and yes, I burn with fever. Why do you care to ask me such questions? Will you or will you not let me send word to those who would ransom me? Ask what you wish for me; I wager it will be paid. ’

  ‘I do not eat the flesh of sick animals,’ the Duke said coldly. He fixed his gaze on Ellik. ‘Nor do I appreciate having one brought into my presence, to give off contagious vapours. Perhaps you meant well, Chancellor, but this does not fulfil your portion of our agreement. ’

  ‘Your Excellency,’ Ellik acceded. He had to agree, but there was the slightest bit of stiffness in his voice. ‘I apologize for inflicting his presence on you. I will remove him immediately from your sight. ’

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  ‘No. ’ The Duke gathered his wits carefully. The tiny sample of flesh that Ellik had given him weeks ago had been invigorating. For almost two days after he had consumed it, he had digested his other food well, and been able even to stand and walk a few steps unaided. Then the sense of well-being had passed and his weakness had returned. So the flesh of a dragon-man had not cured him, but it had given him strength for a few days. He narrowed his eyes, appraising. The creature was valuable, and to disappoint Ellik too much at this juncture would be a serious mistake. He needed to accept the Elderling as a gift, to let Ellik feel he remained high in his favour. He knew that Ellik’s strength was what currently supported his throne. But he must not give too much power over to the Chancellor. He could not yet surrender his daughter to him in marriage. For once Ellik had got a belly on the daughter, what need would he have of the father?

  The Duke pondered his options, taking his time, not caring how his guardsmen shifted in the heat or how Ellik’s face darkened with shame and perhaps anger. He considered the Elderling. One could become ill from eating a sick animal. But a sick animal could be cured and become useful again. The Elderling’s vitality seemed strong even if he was ailing. Perhaps he could be cured.

  He considered putting the creature in Chassim’s care. Among his women, her skills as a healer had been well known, and it would certainly keep Ellik off-balance. At present, his daughter was securely confined and isolated. Daily she sent messages to him, demanding to know what she had done, to be treated so. He had not replied to any of them. The less she knew, the fewer weapons she had to turn against him. The Elderling would have to be confined in similar circumstances to keep him safe and reserve him for his sole use. And he certainly would not entrust his care to his bumbling healers. They had not been successful in healing him; why give them the chance to sicken this creature further? Pure jealousy that the Chancellor had procured for him what they had not might lead them to poison the dragon-man.

  He nodded to himself as he fitted the pieces together. The plan pleased him. The Elderling would be put into Chassim’s care. He would let her know that if she cured him, she might win her freedom. And if he died … he would leave her to imagine the consequences of such a failure. For now, he would not ingest any of the creature’s blood until he was sure it was healthy. And if the Elderling could not be made healthy enough to consume, there was still the possibility that it could be traded for what he did desire. The dragon-man had implied that he was valuable to his own kind. The Duke leaned back on this throne, found it no more comfortable for his jutting bones, and curled forward again. And all the while the fallen creature stared up at him defiantly and Ellik seethed.

  Enough of this. Be decisive. Or at least appear that way. ‘Summon my gaoler,’ he said, but even as his guards flinched at his command, he lifted a finger and gestured that Ellik was to be the one to obey his wish. ‘When he arrives, I will speak to him and tell him that this Elderling is to be confined with my other special prisoner, and treated just as gently. I think that in time, he will recover his health and we will have a good use for him. You, good Chancellor, will be allowed to accompany him, and be sure he is put where he will be warm and comfortable and that good food reaches him. ’ He waited a mo
ment, giving Ellik time to fear that the Duke was simply going to make off with his exotic gift and return him no recompense. When he saw the sparks of anger begin to kindle, he spoke again.

  ‘And I will convey to my gaoler that you are to have the privilege of visiting both my prisoners, when and as you wish. It seems only right to reward you with some privilege. Access to what will eventually be yours, so to speak … Does that seem fair to you, Chancellor?’

  Ellik met the Duke’s gaze and very slowly, understanding dawned in his eyes. ‘It is beyond fair, Excellency. I will fetch him immediately. ’ He tugged at his prize’s chain, but the Duke shook his head. ‘Leave the dragon-man here while you fetch the gaoler. I have my guards and I think I have little to fear from such a rack of bones. ’

  An expression of uneasiness flickered over the Chancellor’s face, but he bowed deeply and then backed slowly from the room. When he was gone, the Duke sat regarding his prize. The Elderling did not look as if he had been severely abused. Starved a bit, perhaps, and his fading bruises spoke of a beating. But there were no signs of infected injuries. Perhaps he just needed to be fed up. ‘What do you eat, creature?’ he demanded.

  The Elderling met his gaze. ‘I am a man, despite my appearance. I eat what you would eat. Bread, meat, fruit, vegetables. Hot tea. Good wine. Clean food of any kind would be welcome to me. ’

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  The Duke could hear some relief in the creature’s voice. He had understood that he was to be treated well and given time to heal. There was no need to put any other thought in his mind.

  ‘If you will but give me ink and paper,’ the creature said, ‘I will compose a letter to my family. They will ransom me. ’

  ‘And your dragon? Did not you say you sang for a dragon? What might he give for your safe return?’

  The Elderling smiled but there was a wry twist to his mouth. ‘It is hard for me to say. Nothing at all, perhaps. Tintaglia does not act by predictable human standards. At any moment of any hour, her fancy toward me might change. But I think you would win her goodwill if I were returned safely to where she could eventually find me again. ’