Authors: Robin Hobb
“But for the first time, the Council heard proposals for dealing with the situation. It was a closed session, but no door is so tight that rumors cannot escape it. One angry member of the Council said that the dragons have no future and that it would be kinder to put them out of their misery. No sooner had Trader Polsk spoken than Trader Lorek rose to denounce him and say that he but hoped to salvage the dragon corpses and sell them off. There have been rumors of the Duke of Chalced offering enormous sums of money for a whole dragon, alive or pickled, it was all one to him, and lesser sums for any part of a dragon. It is well known that Polsk’s affairs have suffered lately and that he might be tempted by such offers. There are rumors that already one dragon was lured away from the herd and slaughtered for trophies. All that is known for certain is that one dragon disappeared in the night. One member of the Rain Wild Council claims it was done by Chalcedean spies; others suspect their fellows, but most think the pathetic creature wandered off and died. So Polsk repeated that the dragons seemed in such poor condition that it would be mercy to kill them.
“Trader Lorek asked him if he did not fear that Tintaglia might visit the same sort of ‘mercy’ on Trehaug. So then another Council member pointed out that we have had offers from wealthy nobles and even cities hoping to buy dragons. Surely, he said, that was better and more sensible than killing valuable creatures. They proposed sending out notices to those considered most likely to be able to purchase a dragon, advertising the colors and genders available and rewarding the highest bidders with the dragons of their choosing.
“Dujiaa, the woman who advises the Council on matters relating to the Tattooed, stood up angrily to protest that. She is among those who can hear the dragons, and so she spoke out strongly saying that creatures that can think and speak as the dragons do are not animals to be sold on an auction block. A few of the other Traders who dispute that the dragons are anything but animals said that she was taking the matter too seriously, that creatures that can only communicate with some people rather than everyone should not be treated as if they are equal to humans. And then, of course, the arguments degenerated. Some demanded to know if that meant speakers of foreign languages were not full humans. Someone else quipped that surely that explained Chalcedeans. That, from what I was told, at least broke the tension, and people began to discuss all sorts of possible solutions to the dragon problem.”
Thymara listened raptly. Her father did not often discuss Rain Wild politics with her. She had heard scattered rumors of problems with the dragons, but had not paid much attention to the details before now. “Why cannot we just ignore the dragons, then? If they are dying off, then soon the problem will have solved itself.”
“Not soon enough, I fear. Those that remain alive are tough, and some say becoming more vicious and unpredictable every day.”
“Seems to me that we can scarcely blame them,” Thymara said quietly. She thought back to the shining promise the newly hatched dragons had seemed to offer on that long-ago day and shook her head over what had become of them.
“Blame them or not, the situation cannot go on. The diggers at Cassarick have refused to try to do any more work there while the dragons are loose. They’re a hazard. They have no respect for humans. They’ve had problems with dragons following the workers down into the excavations, and knocking loose the blocking and supports. One worker was chased. Some people say that the dragon wanted to eat him, others that he provoked the dragon, and still others that the dragon was after the food he was carrying. It all comes down to the same thing. The dragons are both a danger and a nuisance to the people who have moved to Cassarick to develop the digs there. And there have been a series of incidents involving the dead. At a recent funeral, a family was committing a grandmother’s body to the river. They let the river take the bound corpse, and as they were casting the wreaths and flowers out onto the river, a blue dragon waded out, seized the body, and ran off into the forest with it. The family gave chase, but couldn’t catch up with it. None of the dragons will admit it happened, but the family is virtually certain that their grandmother’s body was devoured by a dragon. And, of course, the worry is that while they may begin by sating their appetites with our dead, it may not be long before they eat the living.”
Thymara sat in shocked silence. Finally she said quietly, “I suppose they are not what I thought dragons would be. It’s disappointing to know that they are no more than animals.”
Her father shook his head. “Worse than the lowest beasts, my dear, if what we are hearing is true. Dragons can speak and reason. For them to sink to those sorts of things is inexcusable. Unless they are deranged. Or simple.”
Thymara unwillingly dragged out her memories of the hatch. “They did not seem healthy when they emerged from their cocoons. Perhaps their minds are as badly formed as their bodies.”
“Perhaps.” Her father sighed. “Reality is often unkind to legends. Or perhaps, in the distant past, dragons were intelligent and noble. Or perhaps we have looked at the images the Elderlings left us and decided to imagine them as other than they really were. Still, I have to agree with you. I think I am as disappointed as you are, to find them such low beasts.”
After a time she asked, “But what does any of this have to do with me?”
“Well, Gedder and Sindy only had the bones of it, but after much debate, the Council has decided on the obvious. The dragons must be moved away from Cassarick. Selden the Elderling has spoken of a place far upriver, a place where dragons and Elderlings once lived side by side, with plentiful hunting and elegant palaces and gardens . . . well . . . it all sounds to me like a tale of a place that might have existed long ago, when both Trehaug and Cassarick were aboveground. Several years ago, he proposed an expedition to search for it. No one rose to the bait at the time. Well, who can say that it is not all sunken and buried in a swamp now? But the Council has chosen to believe it is not; evidently the young dragons have vague memories of it themselves, and some have spoken of it longingly. There are even rumors that it was the capital city of the Elderlings, and that their treasure houses were there. Of course, that has piqued quite a bit of interest. The Council wishes the dragons to leave and go there to live. The dragons have agreed to go, but only if they are accompanied by humans who will hunt for them and assist them on the journey. And so, in their wisdom, the Council has cast about for folk it considers expendable. And that is the ‘offer’ that has been made for you, for you to be a dragon tender and herd them upriver to a place that possibly no longer exists, and that definitely has never been seen by any Rain Wilder.” He snorted. “It will be a thankless, dangerous, and futile task. All know that for days both upriver and down, the area under the great trees is endless swamp, bog, and slough. If there were a great city, our scouts would have found it long ago. I don’t know if it’s a mirage of riches that greed makes us seek, or exile for the dragons under the pretense of sending them to a refuge.”
Her father had become more and more outraged as he spoke. As he did when agitated, he had taken so many puffs on his pipe that Thymara felt she sat in a cloud of sweet tobacco smoke. When he fell silent at last, she turned her head to glance back at him. His eyes were faintly luminescent in the darkness. Her own, she knew, glowed a strong blue, yet another mark of her deformity. She held his gaze as she said quietly, “I think I’d like to go, Father.”
“Don’t be silly, child! I doubt that any such place still exists. As for making a perilous trip upriver past any charts we have, in the company of hungry dragons and hired hunters and treasure seekers, well, there can be no good end to such an errand. Why would you want to go? Because of things your mother has said? Because no matter what she says about you or to you, I will always—”
“I know, Father.” She cut through his rising storm of words. As she spoke, she turned her head to look through the network of foliage at the lights of Trehaug. It was the only home, the only world, she had ever known. “I know that I am always welcome in your home. I know that you love me. You must. You must have always loved me, to salvage my life when I was only a few hours old. I know that. But I think my mother is also right in another way. Perhaps it is time for me to go out and find a life of my own. I am not foolish, Father. I know this can end badly. But I also know I am a survivor. If it looks like the expedition is doomed, I’ll come back to you and live out my life here as I always have. But I will have made at least an attempt at one adventure in my life.” She cleared her throat and tried to speak lightly as she added, “And if the expedition to move the dragons is successful, if at the least we find a place for them, or if we are wildly successful and actually rediscover this fabled city, think what it could mean for us. For all the Rain Wilders.”
Her father finally spoke. “You don’t have to prove yourself, Thymara. I know your value. I’ve never doubted it. You don’t have to prove yourself to me, or your mother, or anyone else.”
She smiled and again looked over her shoulder at him. “Perhaps not to anyone except myself, Father.” She took a deep breath and spoke decisively. “I’m traveling down trunk tomorrow, to the Council Hall. I’m going to accept their offer.”
It seemed to take her father a long time to reply. When he spoke, his voice was deeper than usual and his smile seemed almost sickly. “Then I’ll go with you. To see you off, my dear.”
Year the 6th of the Independent Alliance of Traders
From Detozi, Keeper of the Birds, Trehaug
To Erek, Keeper of the Birds, Bingtown
In the sealed scroll case, a message from Trader Mojoin to Trader Pelz. Confidential. Deliver with all seals intact.
Erek,
I note with gratitude that the two cages of Jamaillian king pigeons you shipped to us on the
Goldendown
have arrived safely and settled well into their new coop. The size of the adult birds is impressive and I can only hope that their carrying capacity and endurance will match their size. Thank you for sharing this new influx of breeding stock. I hope that Reyall continues to live up to your expectations for him and to make his family proud. His father will be calling upon him soon to meet the family of his Three Ships intended and see if the match is suitable. Please do not advise him of this. His father wishes to see him about his work when he is unaware of a family visit. Again, my thanks for the kings.
Detozi
B
ecause I want to go.” She spoke each word crisply and precisely. “Because, five years ago, you promised me I could. The promise was given, in fact, on the same day that you gave me this scroll.” Alise leaned across her oversize desk to tap the glass-topped rosewood box lined with silk in which the scroll was displayed and protected. She refrained from handling it as much as possible. Even the necessary work of transcribing it had taken a toll. When she needed to, she consulted the careful copy she had made of the precious work.
“I’ve scarcely returned home from my travel, my dear. Cannot I have a few days to think on this? Quite honestly, I will admit that I had forgotten I’d promised you such a trip. The Rain Wilds!” He sounded amazed.
Hest’s words were not precisely accurate. He had returned from his latest trading expedition to Chalced yesterday afternoon. But Alise had learned, over the years of their marriage, that Hest’s return to Bingtown on any given day did not necessarily match his return to the home they shared. As he had so often told her, there were many matters to settle at the tariff docks, merchants to contact immediately to inform them of goods he had secured on his latest venture, and often the sales of those goods took place within hours of their touching the docks. Such transactions necessitated the wine and fine dinner and late-night conversation that smoothed the way for commerce in Bingtown. Yesterday, she had become aware that he had arrived back in town when his traveling trunks were brought up to the house, but when both luncheon and dinner had passed with no sign of him, she had not bothered to wait up. Yesterday had been the fifth anniversary of their wedding. She wondered if he remembered it with the same degree of regret that she did, and then had laughed aloud at the idea that Hest might remember their anniversary at all. That night, she had sought her own bed at her usual late hour, and as they did not share a chamber except on the occasions when he chose to visit hers, she had been unaware of his return home. At breakfast, the only evidence that the master of the house had returned was the presence of his favorite garlic sausages on the sideboard, and the large pot of tea that had joined her favored coffee on the heavy silver ser vice tray. Of Hest himself, there had been no sign.
At midmorning, his secretary Sedric had visited her study, to ask if any vital invitations were still pending, and to inquire if any other important missives had arrived during the master’s absence. Sedric had spoken formally, but smiled as he did so, and after a moment his good nature and charm had forced her to return that courtesy. As annoyed as she was with Hest, she would not take it out on his secretary. Sedric had that effect on most people. Although he was only a couple of years younger than Hest and older than Alise, she could not help thinking of him as a boy. It wasn’t only that she’d known him since childhood when she and his sister Sophie had been close friends. Even though he was older than both of them, they had still treated him as if he were younger, for so he had always seemed to Alise. There was a gentleness to him that she’d never seen in other men. He’d always been willing to pause in his day and listen to their girlish concerns. Such attention from an older boy had been flattering.
He was, she reflected, still a favorite with her. His attentiveness and interest in her conversation at meals often eased the sting of Hest’s near contempt for her thoughts. Not only Sedric’s manner but his appearance was always charming. His head of gleaming brown curls was perpetually tousled in an artlessly perfect way. His eyes were always bright, never showing the effects of a late night spent accompanying his master to whatever gambling parlor or theater Hest’s latest merchant partner favored. No matter how short the notice, Sedric was always able to rise to the occasion, appearing impeccably clad and groomed and yet still retaining an easy manner that suggested it was effortless for him.
Alise had long since ceased to wonder why Hest made Sedric his constant companion. In any social situation, the man was an asset. Born of Trader stock himself, he moved easily in Bingtown society and with acumen when Hest was dealing with his trading partners. There had been a flurry of gossip when Hest had offered Sedric a position as his secretary; it was obviously beneath his perceived social position, no matter how poor his family had become. Alise had been a bit startled when Sedric accepted it. But in the years since then all had come to see that he was far more than a humble servant. He had proven himself as an excellent secretary to Hest and certainly as an affable and entertaining comrade on the long sea trips that Hest had to undertake yearly. He advised and assisted Hest in matters of dress and grooming. When Hest’s sometimes abrupt manner gave offense or cooled a budding business relationship, Sedric artfully employed his tact and charm to set things to rights.
And when Hest was home, Sedric’s affable presence at her table was something that Alise greatly enjoyed. He excelled at all social occasions from dinners to cards to long afternoon teas. As she was prone to be a listener rather than a talker, Sedric enlivened their meals with his jests, wry observations of their latest travel disasters, and gentle harrying of Hest. Sometimes it seemed to her that it was only due to Sedric that she knew her husband at all.
Did she know him at all? She watched Hest now as he smiled distantly at her, so certain that he could postpone this discussion with her. Well they both knew that if he could procrastinate long enough, he’d be off on one of his trading trips again and she’d once more be left behind at home. She firmed her courage and replied to him, “Perhaps
you
have forgotten that you promised me that one day I should visit the Rain Wilds and see dragons for myself. But
I
have not forgotten your promise.”
“Nor outgrown your desire for it?” he asked her gently.
She flinched at the barb, wondering, as she frequently did, if he was aware of how often his words stung her. “Outgrown?” she asked him quietly, her voice going wooden.
He came back into the room. He had not entered it in search of her. Rather, he had come in quietly, selected a book from the shelves, and attempted to leave just as covertly. He could walk so softly. If she had not chanced to lift her head, she would never have known he’d been there. Her words had detained him just as he’d stepped outside the door. Now he closed it firmly behind him. The book he’d chosen was still in his hands. It was an expensive one, she noted, bound in the new way. He turned it gently as he mused over her question.
“Well, my dear, you know that times have changed. Dragons were quite fashionable the year we were wed, but that was five years ago. Tintaglia had only recently appeared, and Bingtown was just emerging from the ashes, so to speak. Talk of dragons and Elderlings and new treasure cities as well as our independence from Jamaillia—well, it was a heady mix, was it not? All the ladies in their Elderling cosmetics and every fabric patterned to look like scales! It was no wonder dragons fired your imagination. You’d come of age in a harsh time in Bingtown. You needed to escape reality, and what could be a better fantasy than tales of Elderlings and dragons? Trade was in a shambles with the New Traders and their slave labor undercutting all our established ways. Your family fortunes were suffering. And then we had a war. If Tintaglia hadn’t appeared and come to our aid, well, I think we’d all be speaking Chalcedean now. And then she locked us into that bargain that we’d help her serpents get up the river and tend the new dragons when they hatched. Well, we certainly discovered that the reality of a dragon was far different from any fantasy you might have imagined.”
He gave a small snort of disdain. Tucking his book under his arm, he wandered across the room to the windows and looked out over the gardens below. “We were fools,” he said quietly. “Thinking we could negotiate with a dragon! Well, she got the best of us, didn’t she? We’re as close to being at true peace with Chalced now as we’ve ever been, trade is rebuilding, Bingtown rejuvenating, and Tintaglia has found a mate for herself and hardly ever comes to call. It should be a better life and time for everyone! But the Rain Wilders are still dealing with her errant offspring and the expenses they create. They eat constantly, trample the earth to muck, foul everywhere, and hamper efforts to explore the underground ruins. They are pathetic cripples, unable to hunt or care for themselves. All the Traders must contribute to pay for hunters to keep them fed. With no return for us! No one thought to write an end clause for that agreement. And from what I hear, it will never change. Those sorry creatures will never be able to take care of themselves, and who knows how long they will live? We’ve waited five years for them to grow up and become independent. They haven’t. It would be a mercy to put them down.”
“And profitable, too,” Alise said coldly. She felt silence growing in her. Sometimes it reminded her of a fast-growing ivy; silence covered her and cloaked her, and she suspected that one day she would smother in the silences Hest could create. It was an effort to break through that strangling quiet, but she did it. “All have heard how much the Duke of Chalced would pay for even one scale of a real dragon. Think how much he’d give for a whole carcass.” When she thrust a cutting remark into one of Hest’s pauses, it was like trying to stab a knife into hardwood. It never seemed to stick and left scarcely a mark.
Now he turned toward her as if startled. “Did I hurt your feelings, my dear? I didn’t mean to. I forgot how sentimental you are about those creatures.” He smiled at her disarmingly. “Perhaps I’m too much the Trader this day. You should expect it of me when I’ve just returned from a trip. It’s all I talked about with anyone for the last two months. Profitability and tightly written contracts and well-negotiated bargains. I’m afraid that’s what fills my mind.”
“Of course,” she said, looking down at her desk. And,
Of course
, she said to herself as her anger slipped away from her. It wasn’t gone, only sunken in the bog of uncertainty that engulfed her life. How could she hold on to her anger when, in an instant, he could sidestep it in a way that made her feel it was unjustified? He had been preoccupied, that was all. He was a busy man, immersed in trade negotiations and contracts and social details. He undertook those things for both of them, so that she could live in the quiet social backwater that she seemed to prefer. She could not expect him to be perfectly tuned to her life. More than once, he had gently pointed out to her that she always seemed to put the worst possible interpretation on his words whenever they had even the mildest disagreement. More than once, he had expressed bewilderment that she sometimes resented how he sheltered her.
A tiny childish part of her stamped and gritted her teeth.
And he has sidestepped your question as well.
Demand an answer. No. Just tell him you are going.
You have the right. Just tell him that.
Hest was already drifting toward the door. He stopped by a tobacco humidor, opened it, and scowled. Evidently the servants had not replenished it since his return.
“I’ve planned my journey to the Rain Wilds. I’ll be departing at the end of this month.” The words leaped out of her mouth. Lies, every one of them. She’d made no specific plans, only dreamed.
He turned to look at her, his brows arched in surprise. “Indeed.”
“Yes,” she asserted. “It’s a good time to travel to the Rain Wilds, or so I’m told.”
“Alone?” he asked, sounding scandalized. And a moment later, annoyed as he said, “I’ve made commitments of my own, my dear. It would be impossible for me to break them. I can’t go with you at the end of the month.”
“I hadn’t given that part much thought,” she admitted.
Any thought at all
. “I’m sure I can find an appropriate companion for the journey.” She wasn’t sure of that at all. It had never occurred to her that she might require such a person. She had thought, somehow, that marriage had put her beyond the need for chaperonage. “I cannot imagine that you could doubt my fidelity to you,” she observed. “I am not chaperoned in the months when you are away on your trading journeys. Why should I be chaperoned when I travel?”
“Perhaps we should avoid the topic of ‘doubting’ anyone’s ‘fidelity,’ ” he observed cuttingly. “Or perhaps we should discuss it in terms of presenting a proper appearance. After all, it takes very little for someone to assemble tiny bits of ‘evidence’ and then see wrongdoing where none exists.”
She looked away from him. He seldom missed a chance to remind her of her ill-founded allegations against him. She pushed the stinging memory of that humiliating day away and struggled to think of a sufficiently respectable matron to accompany her as chaperone. “I suppose I could ask Sedric’s sister Sophie. But I have heard she is with child and in delicate health, not disposed to visit, let alone travel.”
“Ah. Her husband, I see, is far more fortunate than I am in that regard. And your health, Alise?”
“My health is excellent,” she replied pointedly.
Hest shook his head in disappointment. He cleared his throat and then asked wryly, “I am to assume, then, that our latest efforts have come to naught?”
“I’m not pregnant,” she said bluntly. “I assure you if I were it would be the first piece of news I would give you.” She stopped short of asking him how he could possibly imagine she would be pregnant. He’d been away three months, and in the two months he had been home prior to that, he’d visited her bedchamber exactly twice. The infrequency and brevity of his performances were more relief than disappointment now. He visited her, she thought, with the regularity of a man performing a scheduled task, and with all the enthusiasm. Sometimes she wondered if he kept a ledger of his efforts. She imagined him ticking an item on his social calendar.
Attempted impregnation.
Results still in doubt.
It humiliated her now to recall her brief and girlish infatuation with him before their wedding.
In the months and then years that had passed since she had realized that neither love nor lust would have a place in her marriage, she had never denied herself anything in her quest for knowledge. To balance that, she had never denied Hest on the occasions when he came to her chambers to assert his marital rights. She had never wept over his lack of romantic interest in her, nor tried to charm him into changing his mind. She had made only two failed and shameful attempts to pique his sexual interest in her. She did not allow herself to dwell on those humiliating memories. They had prompted him to a mocking cruelty that had branded those two nights forever in her memory. No. Better to submit, almost ignore his efforts, for then his ser vices to her remained brief and perfunctory.