by Robin Hobb
Malta nodded dumbly. ‘Reyn?’ she asked wearily, and Alise promised, ‘I’ll see that he knows where you are. You are exhausted, my dear. Go to bed right away, for the sake of your child, if not yourself. ’
Alise patted the bed and Malta carefully set Phron down on it. He squirmed and with a sinking heart, she knew he was going to wail again. Then, as the bed softened around his tiny form, his cross expression eased. As she watched him, his eyes sagged slowly closed. Reflexively, she leaned down, putting her cheek and ear near to his face, to assure herself he was breathing. She so wanted to follow him into slumber, but not yet. Not yet. A sad smile twisted her mouth as she recalled how her own mother had always seen to her children’s needs before she allowed herself to rest.
‘His things,’ she said, turning to Alise. ‘Will my trunks be brought here? There is a blue case that has all Phron’s things in it, his extra napkins, his little robes and soft blankets …’ She let her voice trail away as she wondered what was wrong with her, to be so stupid as to leave such things behind. She could not seem to focus her thoughts; her mind seemed to buzz with a thousand half-remembered ideas …
‘Malta!’ Alise’s voice was almost sharp and the Bingtown woman gave her elbow a gentle shake. ‘This city is full of Elderling memories. This building does not seem to be as heavy with them as some, but still, it is easy to let your mind drift here and lose track of what you were thinking and doing. Will you be all right sleeping here tonight? Do you think you should return to the ship?’
The moment Alise mentioned it, Malta recognized it for what it was. Memory-stone, full of stored lives and thoughts. She squinted her eyes tight and opened them again. ‘I’ll be fine, now that I’m aware of it. I’ve been around it before. The first time was when I went into the buried part of Trehaug, to try to find Tintaglia and plead with her to leave Reyn alone. ’
Alise looked intrigued and Malta had to smile. ‘It’s a long tale, but if you wish, I’ll tell it to you. But not now. I’m exhausted. ’
‘Of course you are. And I heard Tarman’s crew say that everything on board would be off-loaded tonight so that they could move him to a safer place across the river. I’ll go and make sure your things are brought here. Now. Before I leave, is there anything else you need?’
‘Only Reyn,’ Malta replied honestly.
Alise laughed, the sort of laugh that women share. ‘Of course. It was so clever of him to keep the keepers occupied. All of them are buzzing with curiosity about why you are here and all you can teach them of Elderling ways. The King and the Queen of the Elderlings. Did you ever think those titles would come to mean so much? For here, they do. I heard the youngsters talking. ’
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Malta stared at her. Alise smiled and spoke more softly. ‘They think you’ve come to lead them. To use your power and stature to establish Kelsingra. I heard Rapskal say, “They will call us the Dragon Traders, and we will stand on an even footing with Bingtown or the Pirate Isles or even Jamaillia. They’ll respect us now that our king and queen are here. ”’ Alise dropped her voice. ‘I know it isn’t why you came. But you need to know that. Every word you speak here carries weight with these young Elderlings. They’ll be gathered around Reyn now, hanging on his every word. But I’ll free him from them and send him up to you. And I’ll let them know that their queen wishes her trunks delivered tonight. And it will happen. ’
‘Alise, I can’t deal with this,’ Malta replied feebly. ‘I never thought …’ Words failed her. Useless things. She was so tired. Stupidly tired. She’d forgotten all about Tillamon. ‘Reyn’s sister … will you help her find us here? She must be as tired as I am, and I just left her there at the docks. So rude, but I’m just so tired. ’
Alise looked a bit surprised. ‘Well, I thought Tillamon said that she wanted to stay on board Tarman tonight, and help take him across to the village tomorrow. But if you wish, I’ll ask after her. ’
‘Sleep aboard Tarman? Well, as she wishes. I thought she might want to join us here where things are so comfortable. But perhaps the memory-noise would bother her. ’ Malta was suddenly too tired to think about it any more. ‘Please, just ask Reyn to come up. And goodnight to you, and many, many thanks for your welcome here. ’
‘Goodnight. And by tomorrow morning, I am sure we can persuade one of the dragons to speak to you. I’ll ask every keeper to summon his dragon, to speak with the King and Queen of the Elderlings. Surely one will be able to help your babe. ’
King and Queen. It made her ridiculously sad. The dreams of Malta the girl might come true even as the longings of Phron’s mother were destroyed. She had no words for it. ‘Alise, you have been too kind. I have been thoughtless …’
‘You are just tired,’ Alise replied firmly, with a smile. ‘Get some rest. I’ll free Reyn from the keepers and send him up. ’
Alise slipped from the room, pulling the door closed quietly behind her. It was a relief to let the false smile fade from her face. Tragedy. She had never seen such a bony baby. And despite what the keepers said, Malta the Elderling Queen was gone, replaced by a grieving mother with a lined face. The hot water had brightened her scale colours, but her once-golden hair reminded Alise of the dead straw after harvest, and her hands were claw-like. Beauty had fled before life’s harshness. She wondered if it would ever return.
She hurried down the hall and then down the spiralling stair. The dragon baths, with its hot water and comfortable lodgings, were a popular gathering place for the keepers. At the back of the entry hall, behind the stairs, a door led to a gathering space. A long table and chairs and benches that became comfortable after one sat on them filled that room. Beyond it, there was a kitchen area. It illuminated when one entered, and the cupboards and work-tables reminded Alise of the cooking space in many a Bingtown mansion. But there was no hearth, only stone ovens and several mysterious work-benches. There was a large basin with a drain in it, and a mechanism that possibly should have furnished water, but no one had deduced how to make it work.
So cooking took place in an alley behind the building. It had pained her heart to see the keepers build a large hearth of rubble where they cooked game meat on spits over driftwood hauled up from the riverbank. She knew it was a necessity, but the mess it created in the formerly pristine city shamed her. In this, Rapskal was right. There was a way to use this city, and the sooner they learned it, the better for both city and keepers. For now, she felt as if she were part of a barbarian invasion rather than a group of settlers reclaiming a beautiful place.
She opened the door to conversation and the smell of cooked food and almost swooned when she smelled hot tea. She had not tasted tea for months! And bread, there were rounds of hard bread in baskets on the table. It seemed no less than a miracle. She made her way to the table, past a jumble of stacked crates and barrels, the foodstuffs unloaded from Tarman. With relief, she saw a number of large trunks and cases that probably belonged to Malta.
She went to where Reyn sat at the head of the long table. Six keepers clustered about him, and Lecter was telling the tale of how they had treated the dragons for rasp snakes on their way to Kelsingra. Reyn was leaning forward on the table, the picture of a rapt listener, or a very weary man who might otherwise collapse. Alise spoke crisply. ‘Enough! It’s time to let this man join his wife and child in some well-earned rest after such a journey. There will be plenty of time to exchange news and tales tomorrow. ’
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‘After you summon the dragons for us,’ Reyn ventured.
The smiles around the table faded a bit. ‘I’ll try,’ Sylve volunteered quickly. The others exchanged glances. Their thoughts were plain to Alise. Their King and Queen wished to speak with their dragons, but no one could promise the dragons would come.
‘Let the poor man get some rest!’ she insisted again, and Reyn seized the opportunity to stand up.
The gathered keepers groaned at losing
him. He gave them a weary smile. ‘I would greatly welcome a bit of assistance with our trunks,’ he said gently, and the response was overwhelming.
Alise took the opportunity to slip out of the gathering. Her heart beat faster at the thought of her own reunion. She paused only to get her cloak and then hastened out of the door.
It was raining yet she wasn’t cold. She pulled up the hood of her midnight-blue Elderling cloak. It was spangled with yellow stars at the hem. Her feet and legs were warmly covered in Elderling garb as well. Sylve had been the one to bring it to her, telling her that everyone thought it ridiculous that she went clad in leaking boots and a ragged cloak while they walked in warmth and finery. ‘But … I am not a true Elderling like the rest of you,’ she had said. It was as close as she had come to admitting to anyone how much of an outsider she had become.
Sylve had scowled, her scaled brow wrinkling, first in puzzlement and then in annoyance. ‘Rapskal,’ she sighed in disgust. ‘Think of all the peculiar things that boy says, and then tell me why any of them should be taken seriously. Not an Elderling … Oh. I suppose that technically he was right. But only in that you have no dragon to demand ridiculous tasks on a moment’s notice. Not that Sintara would hesitate to do so! But, Alise, please, you have come all this way with us, done so much for us. Without you, do you think we would be here? Would we ever have dared believe this place existed? Look. I chose these for you, the colours will suit you. I’ve seen you wear the Elderling robe that Leftrin gave you, so why not dress as one of us?’
Alise had had no response to that. Not sure if she felt humbled or honoured, she had taken the garments from Sylve’s hands. And worn them the next day.
Now she pulled her Elderling cloak tighter around her as she strode through the windy streets and it was like wrapping herself in Sylve’s friendship. Winter had loosened its harsh grip on the land, and the last few days had seemed almost spring-like, but every evening the chill settled again and wind swept through the city.
The streets of Kelsingra were like the streets of no other city in the world. She hurried alone, the sole living figure on a thoroughfare wide enough for two dragons to pass one another. The buildings soared on either side of her, structure after structure with steps, porticos and entries scaled to dragons. Empty and dark, the broad streets still teemed with remembered Elderlings and occasional dragons, all bathed in an imaginary light. To that remembered illumination was added the light that spilled from the awakened city windows, now white, now golden, now a muted blue. A few of the larger buildings gently glowed in the darkness, acting as beacons within the city. She turned her face toward the waterfront.
She had seen Leftrin from the shore, shouted a greeting to him, and saw on his face all that she longed to hear him say. He had glanced around, agonized by the conflict between duty and longing, and she had suddenly known that she did not want to be something that required that sort of decision. He had to think only of his ship now, not arrange to have her board and become a distraction.
She remembered how the voice of Malta the Elderling had broken into her dilemma. ‘Alise? Alise Finbok? Is that you?’ She had felt startled and honoured that the Elderlings had seen fit to come to Kelsingra. Until she had seen the woman’s haggard face and skeletal child, and then a very different emotion had filled her. She had glanced back only once at Leftrin as she had taken charge of them, and had been proud to see the relief on his face. She had lifted a hand, waved a reluctant farewell and seen him echo the gesture. And then she had left the docks to escort Malta, Reyn and their child to what comforts she could offer them.
She and Leftrin had needed no words. Now there was a novelty; a man who assumed she knew what she was doing, and was willing to wait for her. A smile broke out on her face. She was willing to wait no longer.
She crested one of Kelsingra’s rolling hills and suddenly saw the riverbank scene before her as if it were a Jamaillian puppet play. The keepers had borrowed tethered light globes that graced some of the more elaborate gardens. The spheres gleamed golden and scarlet and their light ran away in spills across the streaming river water. She stood staring; never had she beheld anything like it. The yellow light bounced off Tarman’s deck and then faded into a halo around the ship against the black night. Men still moved there as shadowed silhouettes. The crew called to one another as they worked, the sound carrying oddly over the water. She saw squat and bulky Swarge moving across the deck, graceful for a man of his size. A moment later, she realized she had become accustomed to the slender silhouettes of the keepers. Ordinary folk looked strange to her now.
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A hastily rigged tripod lifted and swung crates from the ship’s deck to the rudimentary dock where men grunted and swore as they caught them and guided them down. She spotted Carson’s silhouette, and Lecter’s, and then saw Sedric among those dragging the crates from the dock to the shore. That made her smile. Alum was there, working alongside Tats, and she suspected she knew why he had volunteered to stay and help with the last of the unloading. Once the crates were off the dock, they were loaded onto barrows and shuttled off to their temporary warehouse. The work proceeded in a steady, orderly fashion, the deck and shore crews moving in their concerted efforts as if in a careful dance.
She caught sight of Thymara working alongside the men, and Nortel. There was Tats, shouting to Davvie to come lend a hand with the final crate he was struggling to shift. It came to her to wonder when a ship had last unloaded supplies for this city. What had this river port looked like in the days of the Elderlings? Too careless a thought. She knew a dizzying moment of double vision and saw a sprawling dock system and a score of vessels moored to it. Lights on tall poles streamed golden rays down on the broad-beamed brightly painted vessels, and all manner of people came and went on the wharves. Some were Elderling by their dress and tall silhouettes, but others seemed to be foreigners to these shores. They wore tall hats and were garbed in long furs. She blinked and then squinted her eyes, willing herself back to the present. The Elderlings faded and the ships became fog until only Tarman rode at anchor on the river’s tugging current.
‘And that’s the last of it, boys!’ Hennesey shouted as four netted casks landed with a thump on the dock. A ragged cheer went up from the crew and the keepers. ‘Still got to get it all under cover, so don’t think the work is all done yet!’ the mate reminded them.
Alise had to agree. It looked like so much cargo, crates and kegs stacked in rows in the street as the keepers struggled to move it to shelter. But when she thought of the long months that remained and all the work that must be done before the keepers could create their own food supplies, her heart sank. Food from Trehaug would still have to be managed carefully, and wild game and forest greens would remain the bulk of their diet.
So much to do, such a long distance to go before the city would function as a real city. Kelsingra needed seed for crops, ploughs to break the meadow soil and horses to draw those ploughs. Most difficult of all was that the keepers would have to learn how to provide for themselves. Sons and daughters of hunters and gatherers, merchants and traders, former residents of a city that had never been able to feed itself, would they adapt to tilling fields and raising kine?
And even if they did, were there enough of them to sustain it? The male-to-female ratio was worrisome and had been from the beginning.
Resolutely, she pushed it all from her thoughts. Not tonight. Tonight was hers, finally. She reached the bottom of the hill and threaded her way through the crates and boxes and out onto the dock. ‘Watch your step!’ Carson cautioned her with a grin. ‘We’ve given these timbers a real test tonight, and some are starting to split. One of the hazards of building with green logs. ’
‘I’ll be careful,’ she promised him.
The emptied Tarman rode high, and the taut anchor lines hummed a quiet song of vigilance. She eyed the makeshift gangplank, steep and worn. No. She wouldn’t ask for help. She s
tarted up it, her Elderling shoes surprisingly sure on the wet wood, but was scarcely three steps up before Leftrin came leaping down to her. Heedless of the treacherous surface, he seized her in a hug that lifted her off her feet. Close by her ear, his unshaven cheek prickling hers, he told her, ‘I have missed you like I’d miss air in my lungs. I can’t leave you again. Just can’t, my lady. ’
‘You won’t,’ she promised him, and in the next gasped breath, demanded, ‘Put me down before we both go overboard!’
‘Not a chance!’ As casually as if she were a child, he swung her up into his arms and in two steps thudded her down on Tarman’s deck. He set her on her feet but did not release her. His embrace warmed her as nothing else could. Perhaps her days in the Elderling city had sensitized her, but she felt Tarman’s welcome of her as a warmth that flowed up from where her feet touched his deck to engulf her whole body.
‘That’s amazing,’ she murmured into Leftrin’s shoulder. She lifted her face slightly to ask him, ‘How do I let him know that it’s mutual?’
‘Oh, he knows, trust me. He knows it just as I know it. ’
She could smell his scent. Not cologne such as Hest had often worn, but the scent of a man and the work he had done that day. His hands held her firmly against him; she surrendered to the rush of arousal that suffused her and turned her face up to his to be kissed.
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‘Sir. Captain Leftrin. ’
‘What?’ His bark was more demand than question. Alise turned her head to find Skelly stifling a grin. Her hair gleamed from being freshly brushed, and she had abandoned her trousers and tunic for a flowered skirt and a pale-yellow blouse and looked, Alise thought to herself, more like a girl than she ever had before.
‘Everything is tidied away, and the mate says he has no more tasks for me. Permission to go ashore for the night, sir?’
Leftrin straightened. ‘Skelly. As your captain, I’ll grant you a night’s leave. But you are to be back here by dawn’s light, to help take Tarman across the water. Be late, and you won’t see this city again for a month. Are we clear on that?’