Authors: Robin Hobb
Rapskal greeted his words with the furrowed brow and slight pout that meant he was thinking hard. “But . . . why do they have to make us wake up so early? Will one morning make that much difference?”
Greft shook his head, muttered something uncomplimentary, and turned away from the boy. A shadow of hurt flickered across Rapskal’s face. And Thymara felt a moment of absolute dislike for Greft. It startled her in its intensity.
“Let’s get something to eat before we have to get going,” Thymara suggested quickly. “This will be the last day that they feed the dragons for us. Beginning tomorrow, we’re going to have to provide for them. And hope they can do a bit of providing for themselves.”
Rapskal’s face brightened at her words. It took so little to make him happy. Her words didn’t have to be kind, even, just not cruel. She tried not to wonder what his early life had been like that mere neutrality seemed like friendship to him. She began folding her blankets up with a small sigh. Of course, even neutral comments attracted Rapskal. Talking to him directly had probably earned her a full day of his close and chattering company.
“I’ve been worrying about how we’re going to feed our dragons. I think the dragons can find some food for themselves. Dead stuff should be easy for them, and maybe big fish, too. Or big dead fish, that might be easiest of all for them. My Heeby likes fish, and she doesn’t much care if she gets it alive or dead.”
“Heeby. Is that her real dragon name?” Tats had suddenly appeared behind Rapskal. He had his pack already loaded and on his back. He’d shaved, too. So he’d been awake for a while. He didn’t shave often, only about once a week. Thymara had seen him do it once since they’d left Trehaug. He didn’t seem very confident of his technique; he crouched with a small mirror balanced on his knee and scraped carefully with a folding razor. It had surprised her to see him shaving; she had realized then that she still thought of him as more boy than man. She glanced over at Rapskal. She supposed that she thought of all of them as boys still, with the possible exception of Greft. Rapskal, she realized, was probably close to her own age. Not a boy at all, really. Until he spoke.
“No. I don’t think Heeby had a name before I got here. But she likes me and she likes the name I gave her, so I think it’s going to be all right.” Rapskal suddenly halted where he stood. Then he smiled indulgently. “Rats! I thought about her too loud and waked her up. I’d better eat fast and get over there. She’s hungry. And I got to tell her again that today is the day we’re going up the river. She forgets stuff pretty easy.”
He crumpled his blanket up and stuffed it into his pack, then looked around the area where he’d slept. He snatched up his extra shirt, pushed it into the top of his pack, and then said, “Time to eat,” and headed off to the main campfire. Tats and Thymara watched him go.
“I think Rapskal and Heeby are pretty well matched,” Tats observed with a smile. He stooped down and picked up a stray sock Rapskal had dropped. “I wish he weren’t so careless,” he added more soberly.
“Give it to me. I’ll make sure he gets it.”
“No, I’ve got it,” Tats replied easily. “I’m headed that way anyway. You’re right. We’d better enjoy our last easy meal.”
Thymara put her neatly folded blanket into her pack and did a quick check of the campsite. No. She hadn’t forgotten anything. All the others were beginning to stir. Greft, she noticed, was first in line by the porridge pot. She’d watched how he ate; he’d be fast and get a second serving before some of the others had even had a first one. His bad manners annoyed her even as she wondered if she were a fool for not copying him. A couple of the boys had started to do so, over the last day or so. Kase and Boxter imitated him in most things, she’d noted. It made her uneasy to see them trail after him now, food bowls brimming. When Greft sat down to eat, they squatted to either side of him. She was surprised to see that Nortel had a black eye and a bruised face. “What happened to him?” she asked.
“Got in a scuffle with one of the other lads,” Tats said briefly. “What’s going to become of the unclaimed dragons?” Tats’s question distracted her from staring at Nortel.
“What?”
“There are two dragons who don’t have keepers. You must have noticed.”
Food bowls in hand, they fell into line behind Nortel and Sylve. The girl immediately turned to join the conversation. “The silver one and the dirty one,” she filled in.
“I think if he were cleaned up a bit, he’d be copper,” Thymara mused. She’d noticed them. She’d almost chosen one of them when it looked like Skymaw was going to refuse her. “They’re both in bad condition,” she added, and then forced herself to voice what she knew they were all thinking. “Without keepers to help them along, they won’t last long on this journey. I’m not even sure they’ll follow us when we leave. Neither one looks very intelligent.”
“You’re right about that. I saw the silver snuggling up to the barge last night, as if it were another dragon. It’s not there this morning, so maybe it figured it out. Still. Not very intelligent. But I doubt that the Cassarick Council will allow us to leave any dragons behind,” Tats said. “If we did, I suspect they’d both be dead within a week. Somehow I doubt they’d continue feeding them once we were gone.”
“That’s mean,” said Sylve. “They’ve been stingy and cruel to these dragons for a long time. My poor Mercor says he can’t remember a time when dragons were so badly treated by humans or Elderlings.”
Nortel nodded wordlessly. The man dishing the porridge glopped a scoop into his bowl. Nortel held his bowl steadily there until the man grudgingly added a bit more. Sylve stepped up to take her place, holding her bowl over the cauldron of porridge. It bobbed as it received its load.
“Well,” Tats said reluctantly, “if we just let those two tag along after us and don’t do anything for them, we’ll be letting them die just as surely as if we left them here to be starved.”
“They aren’t fit to survive,” Alum observed. He was in line behind Tats. “My Arbuc may not be bright, but he’s fast and physically healthy. That’s why I chose him. I thought he had the best chance of surviving the journey.”
“The midwife said I wasn’t fit to survive,” Thymara said quietly as her bowl was filled with porridge. She trailed after Sylve to a pile of hard bread rolls set out on a clean towel. Each girl chose one and then moved on.
“We live in a hard land. A hard land requires hard rules,” Alum said, but he didn’t sound quite as certain as he had a few moments before.
“I’ll take on the copper one,” Tats said quietly. The keepers were settling into a circle to eat. “I’ll clean him up a bit and get some of the parasites off him before we leave this morning.”
“I’ll help you.” Thymara hadn’t noticed Jerd, but there she was, sitting down carefully next to Tats. She balanced her chunk of bread on one knee, then held her bowl in one hand and her spoon in the other to eat.
“I’ll take the silver,” Thymara declared recklessly. Somehow she didn’t think it would sit well with Skymaw. She suspected the dragon would be jealous of any attention she gave the creature.
Well, let her see how it felt,
she thought, almost vindictively.
“I’ll help you get his tail bandaged up,” Sylve offered.
“And I can get some fish for him, maybe,” Rapskal said as he wedged himself into their circle between Tats and Thymara, blithely unaware that he might be intruding. He dug into his porridge with fervor. “Never got porridge for breakfast at home,” he announced suddenly through a full mouth. “Grain was too expensive for my family. We always had soup for breakfast. Or gourdcakes.”
Almost all the keepers were present now, all crouched or sitting with bowls and bread. Several nodded.
“Sometimes we had porridge with honey,” Sylve said. “But not often,” she added, as if embarrassed to admit that her family had been able to afford such things.
“We usually had fruit, whatever my father and I had gathered the day before and hadn’t sold,” Thymara said, and was ambushed by a wave of homesickness. She looked around herself suddenly. What was she doing here, sitting on the hard ground, eating porridge, and preparing to depart upriver? For a moment, none of it made sense, and the world seemed to rock around her as she realized how far she was from home and family.
“Thymara?”
She nearly dropped her spoon at the man’s voice behind her. She turned and found Sedric standing awkwardly at the edge of their circle. He was impeccably groomed and a fragrance almost like perfume floated on the air. “Yes?” she answered him stupidly.
“I don’t mean to rush your meal, but we are told that the departure time is imminent. I wondered if you could possibly come now to do some translating for me. Alise is already with the dragon . . .”
He let his words trail off. Probably the look on her face had silenced him. She looked aside and tried to calm the sudden jealousy she felt. Alise was already up and talking with Skymaw? This early in the day? Yesterday, when she and Sedric had returned, the light was waning. As the day lost its warmth, the dragons became more lethargic. By the time Thymara and Sedric reached Alise and Skymaw, the dragon plainly wished to be left alone to sleep. She had not been too tired, however, to gulp down the fish they brought her, Thymara recalled wryly. She had felt a great deal of satisfaction at Alise’s unconcealed astonishment at the size of the fish, and her awe at how quickly the dragon devoured it. While Skymaw ate, Thymara had won her grudging permission for Sedric to be present when Alise talked to her. Afterward, Skymaw had immediately headed for the dragons’ sleeping area. Thymara had bid Sedric and Alise good night and watched them go back to the beached barge.
She had noted how Alise took Sedric’s arm, and how he carried all her supplies for her, and wondered what that meant. He’d said he was her assistant, but she sensed there was more between them than that. She wondered if secretly they were lovers. The thought had sent a strange thrill through her, and then she had felt ashamed of herself. It was no business of hers if they were. Everyone knew that Bingtown folk lived by their own rules.
“Translating?” Greft stood, coming to his feet with a smooth and easy motion that was still somehow challenging. It jerked Sedric’s attention to him.
The Bingtown man seemed startled at the question. So was Thymara. “She said she could help me understand what the dragon was saying so that I could take notes.” When Greft continued to stare at him, Sedric added, “I seem to have an unusual handicap. When the dragons speak, I don’t understand them. I only hear animal noises. Thymara told me yesterday she might be able to help me. Or am I taking her away from other duties?”
It took Thymara a moment to comprehend that Greft’s stance had made Sedric think he controlled her in some way and that Sedric must ask his permission for her to go with him. She tucked her unfinished bread in her pocket and stood with her empty bowl. “I have no other duties at the moment, Sedric. Let me put my bowl and spoon away and I’ll come now.”
“Didn’t I just hear you say that you’d take care of the silver? Someone has to bandage his tail and try to form a bond with him.”
Greft spoke as if he were her superior, reminding her of a neglected task.
She turned to face him squarely and spoke clearly. “I’ll do what I said I’d do, in my own time, Greft. No one put you in charge of me, or of the dragons in general. I didn’t hear you volunteer to take on an extra dragon. Only Tats.”
She had meant it as a rebuke to him. Too late she saw that she had brought Tats and Greft back into direct confrontation. Tats stood and rolled his shoulders as if loosening them. He might have been sitting still too long, but to Thymara, it looked as if he prepared himself for a possible fight. “That’s right. I did. Sylve, if you need help with the silver’s tail, let me know. Rapskal, it would be good if you could find him a fish or any extra food. I’m going to go say hello to my green, and then I’ll check on the dirty copper one to see what I can do for him. You go with Sedric, Thymara. We can manage without you for now.”
She watched Sedric’s eyes dart from Greft to Tats, and suddenly knew he was wondering just who was in charge here. Of her. She felt a flush of anger at both of them. It made her sharp. “Thank you, Tats, but I said I’d do it and I will. I don’t need anyone’s help. Or permission.”
The look on his face made her realize she’d spoken more harshly than she intended. She’d only meant to assert that no one was in charge of her except herself. It was made worse by the smug look on Greft’s face. She ground her teeth. In less than two days, she’d gone from being mildly infatuated with Greft and flattered by his attention to actively disliking him. She knew he was manipulating the situation, but she could not seem to escape his puppet strings. Now everyone would think she was at odds with Tats, when she wasn’t. Or at least, didn’t want to be. Jerd was looking at the ground, but Thymara knew she was smiling. Tats was turning aside from her rather stiffly, and there was nothing else to do but follow Sedric. Even he seemed aware of the awkwardness as she walked away with him.
“I didn’t mean to cause you any problems,” he apologized.
“You didn’t,” she said shortly. Then she took a breath and shook her head. “I’m sorry. That came out wrong. Honestly, you didn’t cause any problem. Greft is the problem, and sometimes Tats. Greft wants to be the leader of the dragon keepers, so he just acts as if he is and hopes everyone will fall into line. And it’s so infuriating that some of them do! The truth is, no one was put in charge among us; we’re all free to do our own jobs. But Greft is very good at causing discord among those who refuse to concede to him. Like Tats and me.”
“I see.” He nodded as if he actually did.
“Usually Tats and I get along very well. Then Greft came along, and he just seems to enjoy making trouble. And manipulating people. Sometimes it seems that if he can’t make us do what he wants, he focuses on making us as miserable as possible. At first, I thought he liked me. He behaves as if he can’t stand for me to have a friend, like it makes him less important. It’s almost as if he tries to drive a wedge between Tats and me. Why are some people like that?”