Authors: Robin Hobb
Sedric broke in on their conversation. “Surely there must be some sort of lodging available here? Even a humble one would be welcome.”
“None that I’d say was fit for a lady, there isn’t. No, Sedric my friend, I’m afraid you’ll have to tolerate my hospitality for one more night. Now if you’ll excuse me for just a bit, I want to confer with my tillerman. There’s a tricky bit of river before Cassarick, where they tried to build those locks for the sea serpents the year they came up the river. Didn’t help the poor creatures much at all, and they’ve been a hazard to navigation every since.” And so saying, he left his perch on the railing and descended to the deck. He quickly vanished from sight in the darkness.
Alise looked up at the lights of Cassarick growing closer. Sedric spoke quietly in a sour voice. “I can’t wait to be off this stinking tub.”
She was startled at the venom in his voice. “Do you truly hate it that much?”
“There’s no privacy, the food is primitive, the company one level above socializing with street dogs, and my ‘bunk’ reeks of whoever last slept in it. I can’t bathe, shaving is a challenge, and every piece of clothing I packed for this expedition now smells like their bilge. I didn’t expect to be comfortable accompanying you on this journey, but I didn’t think we’d descend quite this far into squalor.”
Alise was struck dumb by his vehemence. Sedric seemed to take her silence as condemnation, for he seethed on, “Well, you cannot pretend to enjoy it here, even if you’ve a smelly room all to yourself. That pirate shows you no respect at all. Every time I turn around he’s leering at you, or calling you ‘my dear’ as if you were some tavern wench he was set on impressing. He spends more time perched up here beside you than he does running his ship.”
She found her tongue. “And you think this is inappropriate? Or that my behavior is reprehensible in this?”
“Oh, Alise, you know better than that.” The sharpness dropped from his voice. “I know you wouldn’t do anything dishonorable, let alone with some smelly riverman who thinks a ‘clean shirt’ is one that he hasn’t worn in the last two days. No, I don’t fault you. You’re a very determined woman, and despite your disappointment about the dragons, you leaped to the practicality of trying to actually see them. I’m wretchedly uncomfortable on board this ship. At the same time, I’m relieved that you’ve recognized the realities we’re dealing with and that our visit to the Rain Wilds will not be as extended as you originally planned.”
“Sedric, I’m so sorry! You hadn’t said a word. I didn’t realize you were so unhappy. Perhaps tomorrow you can find appropriate lodgings for us, yes, and spend some time on a hot bath and a decent meal. You can even take a long rest if you wish it. I’m sure I’ll be fine talking to the local council. I’d be very surprised if they didn’t offer me a guide for my visit to the dragons. There is no reason that you have to go see the creatures at all. Originally, when I had thought I would have long, detailed conversations, I’d hoped you’d be available to take notes of what was said and do some sketches for me. But now that I know my experience will be little more than a trip to a menagerie, I don’t see the sense in tormenting you.” She resolutely kept her disappointment from her voice as she offered this. She longed to have him at her side when she met the dragons, and not just for the comfort of a familiar face.
She wanted there to be someone who would witness her there. She imagined them both back at Bingtown, at some stuffy dinner, when perhaps someone would ask her about her time among the dragons. She’d modestly say that it hadn’t been much of an adventure, but then Sedric might raise his voice to contradict her pleasantly, and make a witty tale out of her time among them. She visualized herself, in her black boots and canvas trousers that she’d bought just for her encounter, striding across the flats to confront the scaled behemoths. She smiled to herself.
Before she met the dragons, she’d have to visit the local Traders’ Council, to introduce herself and get its permission. And there again, she hoped to have his companionship. She had no idea whom she’d meet with when she visited the Council. She’d wanted to enter on Sedric’s arm, to be seen as a woman worthy of such a handsome and charming escort. But he’d already made so many sacrifices to come with her. It was time for her to set her vanity aside and think of his comfort.
Sedric sat up straighter. “Alise, I didn’t mean that at all! I enjoy your company, and I think I shall enjoy your seeing the dragons as much as you will. I apologize for being so discouraging. Let’s get what sleep we can and make an early start of the day. You should come with me to find our lodgings; I’d never just abandon you in a strange town. And regardless of what Captain Leftrin says, we’ve no idea of how safe or dangerous a place this may be. We’ll find our lodgings and, as you say, have a meal and a wash and change our clothes, and then we’ll go to the Council together. And then, on to the dragons!”
“Then you don’t mind going with me?” She was startled by the sudden change in his attitude. She could not keep the smile from her face.
“Not at all,” he insisted. “I’m looking forward to getting close to the dragons as much as you are.”
“No, you aren’t,” Alise said with a laugh. She looked into his face boldly, knowing that in the night she did not need to fear letting her affection for him shine in her eyes. “But it’s a very kind lie, Sedric. I know you realize how much this means to me, and you’ve been awfully good about enduring your exile from Bingtown. When we return, I promise I’ll find some way to make it up to you.”
Sedric abruptly looked uncomfortable. “Alise, nothing of the kind is necessary. I assure you. Let me walk you to your cabin and then say good night.”
She wanted to tell him that she could walk herself to her cabin. But doing that would mean admitting to herself that she did enjoy her quiet chats with the captain, and that she rather hoped that he would join her again that night. But Sedric had already made it clear that he had reservations about such conversations, and she would not put him in the uncomfortable position of having to stay awake to chaperone her. She rose and let him take her arm.
SINTARA AWOKE TO DARKNESS. The blackness jolted her, for she had been dreaming of flying in sunlit blue skies over a glittering city by a wide river of blue and silver. “Kelsingra,” she muttered to herself. She closed her eyes to the dark and tried to will herself back into her dream. She recalled the tall map tower at the center of the city, the broad city square, the leaping fountains, and the wide, shallow steps that led into the main buildings. There had been frescoes on the walls, images of both Elderling and dragon queens. Some ancestor of hers recalled sleeping sprawled on those wide steps, baking in the heat from the sun and the stone. How pleasant it had been to doze there, barely aware of the folk who hurried past her on their business. Their voices had been as musical as the distant chuckling of the river.
Sintara opened her eyes again. There was no recapturing the dream, and the memory was a thin and tattered substitute. She could hear the river muttering past the muddy banks, but she also heard the stentorian breathing of a dozen other dragons sleeping close by. There was no comparison between the dream and her reality.
Mercor had set his plan into motion with meticulous precision. He had never voiced his rumor directly to a human. Always, he had arranged for the dragons to be speaking casually of the wonders of Kelsingra when humans chanced to be nearby. Once, it had been as workers were carrying a beautiful mirror frame out of the buried city. She recognized the material it was made from, a peculiar metal that when stroked, emitted light. Mercor had glanced at it and turned aside to remark to Sestican, “Do you recall the mirrored chamber of the Queen’s Palace in Kelsingra? Over seven thousand gems were set in the ceiling mirrors alone. How they flared with light and perfume when she entered!”
Another time, it had been when the hunters had brought them the gamy remains of a stag to eat. As Mercor accepted his pitifully small share, he observed, “There was a statue of an elk in the King’s Hall at Kelsingra, was there not? Of ivory overlaid with gold, and his eyes were two immense black jewels. Remember how they shone when they activated him, and how he would paw the earth and toss his head when anyone entered the king’s chambers?”
Lies, all lies. If any such treasures had ever existed anywhere, Sintara did not recall them. But each time the humans paused and watched him as he spoke, even if he did not glance in their direction. And before the moon had changed, humans came to them in the darkness, without torches, to whisper questions about Kelsingra. How far away had it been? Was it built on high ground or low? How large a city? Of what were the buildings constructed? And Mercor had lied to them as it suited him, telling them that it was not all that far, that it had been built on high ground, and that all the buildings were built of marble and jade. But more than that, he would not tell them, not landmarks that had been nor how many days’ travel it had once been from Cassarick. Nor would he consent to help a human make a map of where it once had been.
“Impossible to tell,” he explained affably. “In those days, the river was fed by a hundred tributaries. There was a great lake before one came to Kelsingra. That I recall. But more than that, well, I could not say. I could go there and find it again, I am sure, if I had a mind to do so and a way to feed myself. But, no, it is not a thing I can put into words.”
The next evening, there had been other men, asking the same questions, and two nights later, still more. All received the same teasing answers. Finally there had come by daylight half a dozen members of the Cassarick Traders’ Council to offer a proposal to the dragons. And with them, incensed and fearful, came Malta the Elderling, dressed all in cloth of gold with a turban of white and scarlet on her head.
Only at Malta’s request had all the dragons gathered to hear what the Council proposed. The Council had seemed to think that if they spoke to the largest dragon and gained his assent, they would have a binding agreement. Malta had laughed aloud at that and insisted that all be summoned. Then the head of the Council, a thin man with so little meat to his bones that he wouldn’t have been worth the trouble of eating, spoke for a long time. Many unctuous words and promises he uttered, saying that the Council was troubled by the poor conditions the dragons were enduring, and that they hoped to help them return to their former homeland.
Mercor had assured them that they knew the humans were doing their best, and that dragons had no “homeland” but were in their rightful forms Lords of the Three Realms of earth, sea, and sky. He had blandly pretended not to understand the broad hints the Council leader dropped, until finally Malta cut through his foolishness to say bluntly, “They think you can lead them to Kelsingra and that they will find vast treasure there. They seek to persuade you to leave here and go in search of that fabled city. But I, who love all of you, fear that they are merely sending you off to your deaths. You must tell them no.”
But Mercor had not heeded her advice. Instead he had said sadly, “Such a journey would be an impossible undertaking. We would starve long before we led you to Kelsingra. Every one of us is willing to undertake such a journey. But there are among us some who are small and weak. We would need hunters to feed them, and attendants to groom us and tend us as the Elderlings used to do. No. I fear it would be impossible. I need not say no because yes would be meaningless.”
Then despite Malta’s interruptions and pleadings and even her angry shouts, they struck a bargain. The Council would find for them hunters and attendants who would accompany them and hunt for them and tend them in every way. And in return, all the dragons had to do was lead them to Kelsingra or where it once had been.
“To this, we can agree,” Mercor had told them gravely.
“They are tricking you!” Malta had objected. “They wish only to be rid of you, so that they can dig up Cassarick more easily and be done with feeding you. Dragons, listen to me, please.”
But the deal had been struck. Kalo had pressed his muddy, inky foot to a piece of parchment held up to him, as if such a ridiculous ceremony could bind one dragon, let alone all them. Malta had gritted her teeth and knotted her fists as the Council proclaimed this was, indeed, the best plan. And Sintara had felt a shred of pity for the young Elderling who stood in such firm opposition to what the dragons themselves had manipulated the humans into offering them. She had hoped Mercor would find a way to have a quiet word with her. But either he did not care to do so or he thought it might endanger his plan. When the Council members left, she went with them, still pink cheeked with fury.
“This is not final!” she had warned them. “You need the signatures of every Council member to make this legal! Don’t think I’ll stand idly by while you do this!”
The glimpse of Malta had made her sad, and no doubt was responsible for her dreams. She was a young Elderling, a human newly changed into that form. She had years of growing and changing ahead of her, if she were to become all that the Elderlings of old had been.
But she would not. Some of the humans looked at her with wonder, but as many regarded her with disdain. She wondered what would become of Malta and Selden and Reyn now that Tintaglia had abandoned the new Elderlings, just as she had abandoned the other dragons. She did not fault Tintaglia for being gone. It was the dragon way to see first to one’s own needs. She had found a mate and better hunting grounds, and eventually she would lay eggs and they would hatch into serpents. The dragon cycle, the true dragon cycle, would begin again as those serpents entered the sea.
But in the years until then, Sintara and the other dragons were all that existed in the Rain Wilds. All of them were creatures from another time, reborn into a world that no longer remembered them. And unfortunately they had returned in dwindled forms that were unfit for this world.
Lords of the Three Realms, they had once called themselves. Sea, land, and sky had all belonged to dragons and their kin. No one had been capable of denying anything to them. They had been masters of all.