Blood of Dragons (55 page)

His face changed. It was only for a moment. Then the lines of his jaws and eyes firmed again, and she had to wonder if it was a trick, a deception, that for a moment she had glimpsed her old friend. The man stood abruptly. The moon-pendant fell unheeded to the floor.

‘I came here to say farewell,' he said harshly. ‘If all I wanted was a woman to spread her legs, well, Jerd would doubtless oblige. I wanted you to become all you should be, Thymara. To grow into being the sort of woman that is suited to a man like me. And you've changed our farewell into a stupid, childish argument about who I am. So. Have it your way. I'm leaving. I'm leaving this room, and you, and tomorrow I'm leaving the city. And if I never return, well, I'm sure you won't regret that you turned your last chance to bid me goodbye into another one of your silly plays. I can't waste any more time on you. Tomorrow I fly, to lead the dragons in their vengeance against Chalced. To put an end to people hunting dragons. That doesn't seem to be something you much care about.'

The cold river of his words tumbled and bruised her on the rocks, drowning her in his acid criticism. She pointed wordlessly at the door. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she fought the sobs that tried to rise and choke her. He stalked to the door and she followed, two paces behind, out of reach.
I fear him
, she thought, and knew by that admission that the love she had felt for wild, silly, gentle, thoughtful Rapskal was only a memory.

He turned in the hallway, his eyes hard and glittering as jewels. ‘One more thing,' he said coldly.

She shut the door in his face. She crossed the room and sat down on the small chair in front of the mirrored vanity. She looked at herself, at the winged Elderling Thymara.

And then she let her tears take her.

‘Dawn,' Thymara scoffed. ‘I think the dragons meant, “After we wake up and when we feel like it.”'

‘They need the sun.' Tats excused their late arrival. ‘And it's important for them to have the Silver, as much as they can drink. They will fly faster and longer.'

‘And their venom will be all the more potent,' Thymara added. ‘Sintara told me so. She said that Tintaglia had counselled them all to drink deeply before they departed.'

The small group fell silent. The force was finally massing in the middle of the Square of the Dragons as the sun approached noon. All of the dragons were going. Some, like Heeby and Kalo and Sestican, had chosen elaborate harnesses. Others had submitted grudgingly to a simple strap that secured a perch for a rider. A few, like Sintara, had refused all harness and even the idea of carrying a rider into battle. Sintara had dismissed Thymara's offer to go with her with a brusque ‘You'd be in my way.' Fente had listened to Tats's ardent pleas to accompany her with great pleasure, but in the end she, too, had dismissed him. He now watched the others with undisguised envy. Davvie already perched high on Kalo, staring around him as if he had never seen Kelsingra or his fellow keepers before. A half-smile came and went on his face. Thymara watched him and wondered why all of the boys were so eager to go to war.

Reyn was going. Tintaglia was resplendent in a jewelled harness, the metallic plates fastened together with wires. She had chosen gold and a pale sky blue that set off her own indigo scaling. Next to her, Reyn wore a helm of pale blue and an Elderling tunic of the same colour. There had been no armour that fitted him. He had dismissed it with, ‘It would have been too hot and heavy anyway. And at least this time, when I travel with Tintaglia, she will not squeeze me in half with her claws as she nearly did the last time I flew with her.'

His attempt to make light of his departure with the dragon failed with his wife. Malta was not pleased to let him go and not only because she feared for him. No,
she
had wanted to be the one to ride the queen into battle. Her anger at what had been done to her dragon had only grown as the full tale became known. And she had old reasons of her own to wish revenge upon Chalced, as well as her more recent injuries at their hands. ‘The vengeance should be mine! I have never forgotten my days aboard a Chalcedean ship, and at their mercy. Nor will I ever forgive that they tried to kill my child!' Only her baby's needs had kept her in the city and on the ground.

Jerd had not wanted to go, but Veras had insisted. Thymara pitied her. Her face was pale and strange with all her hair tucked away under a helm. She gripped one of their old bows and her quiver was full of hunting arrows. She sat on the ground near her queen and looked as if she might be sick. Sylve stood beside her, looking more insubstantial than ever in the sleek-fitting armour. Harrikin stood staring at her, his heart in his eyes. His dragon had refused him. He had begged Veras to take him instead of Jerd but the queen had refused, and Ranculos had been livid with jealousy at the idea. ‘You will stay here,' he had told his keeper, and Harrikin was left with no other choice. Nortel was going and looked almost as pleased as Rapskal about it.

On the steps of the baths, seven former slaves sat watching the chaos and pageantry as if it were a puppet show. Long servitude had left harsh marks on all of them, minds as well as bodies. Thymara wondered if they fully grasped that the
Tarman
had truly departed, leaving them here to begin new lives. Only a few had adopted the Elderling garb they had been offered. The others had washed and mended their tattered clothes and seemed to be grateful that they were allowed time to do that. They still kept to themselves and spoke mostly Chalcedean to one another.

Rapskal was everywhere, striding about, directing keepers to tighten or loosen a harness strap, asking each keeper if they had filled a water bag and packed rations. He had a practised air to his motions and questions that nearly broke Thymara's heart. She knew it was Tellator who was seeing to his soldiers. She watched him sternly assist Jerd to mount and stand by her as she settled into place on Veras. The other keepers imitated her.

Spit had insisted that he would carry no one, not even Carson. They had quarrelled about it, and when the hunter had attempted to put a harness on the silver dragon, Spit had hissed at him. Mercor had intervened. ‘This is something a dragon decides for himself,' he had warned Carson gravely. The hunter stood beside Relpda and looked up at Sedric perched on her back. Tightly packed gear bags hung from the rings on her bell-studded harness. Thymara thought to herself that Carson had packed everything he could possibly imagine Sedric needing. The two men regarded one another gravely. Carson reached out to touch Sedric's boot, nodded tightly and then turned away. She saw Sedric swallow and lift his face to stare into the distance. Thymara shook her head sadly for them.

‘Kase and Boxter?' she asked Tats.

‘Going. Alum isn't. You know how Arbuc loves to show off when he flies. He didn't want to worry about spilling Alum off if he did a back-loop.' He sighed and shook his head. ‘It's going to be very strange to be such a small group here in the city. Especially with Tarman and most of the captives gone.'

She touched his hand. ‘At least we'll be together,' she reminded him.

He didn't look at her. His eyes were following Fente. She had chosen a bright-yellow harness and once he had adjusted it for her, his dragon had dismissed him. ‘I wish we were both going with them.'

Malta drifted over to stand with them. In silence, they watched Rapskal climb up the straps that dangled from Heeby's harness and take his place in a high-backed saddle almost between her wings. Once settled, he lifted his horn to his lips and blew out a precise ascension of notes. ‘Tellator.' She growled the name to herself and looked away from the Elderling who had stolen the boy she had known. Heeby gathered herself under him and instead of her familiar trundling take-off, leapt into the air, bearing him up with her.

In the next moment, Thymara and Tats were blasted with wind as the rest of the dragons launched into flight. The beating of their wings battered her ears and blew her hair across her face. The rank smell of dragon musk assailed her and then, just as abruptly, they were standing in the silent square, looking up as the dragons grew smaller above them. She blinked dust from her eyes.

Malta spoke into the silence. ‘Tintaglia's gone, and Reyn with her.' The baby she held hiccupped and she patted him absently. ‘I never imagined how hard it would be to watch them both leave us.' She folded the child closer to her.

Thymara heard her unvoiced thought. How many of them would return and when?

‘Oh, Fente, be careful,' Tats murmured, his eyes fixed on his diminishing green dragon. He turned to Malta. ‘I don't even know how far Chalced is from here, or how long it will take them to get there.'

Malta shook her head. ‘No one knows how long it takes a dragon to fly anywhere. They have clear weather, at least for starting the journey. The dragons will have to take time to hunt each day, and they will sleep at night when it's dark. But they will travel straight this time rather than following the river. So, I have no idea at all.' She gave a sigh. ‘Tarman left this morning with a full load of passengers, Tillamon amongst them.'

‘Why didn't you go?' Tats asked her curiously.

She looked startled. ‘This is my home now,' she said. ‘Kelsingra is the city of Elderlings. I may go back to visit Trehaug or Bingtown, some day. Or perhaps my family will come here. But Ephron will grow up here, amongst his own kind. He will never go veiled. Kelsingra is where we belong. This is our home now.'

‘Mine, too,' Tats admitted, and Thymara nodded.

Spring sunlight glittered on the dragons in the distance. Alum drifted over to join them. It was a small, disconsolate group that stood in the plaza and watched the dragons wing away into the distance. Carson cleared his throat. ‘Well. There's work to do. From what Thymara has told us, there's a danger from that well if we can't find a way to cap it in times of high Silver. And the dock isn't going to build itself. Nor those boats get cleaned up.' He looked up at the sky. ‘No sense standing around wasting daylight. The sooner we start, the sooner we're finished. And work keeps the mind busy.'

‘There's always work where Carson is involved,' Tats muttered, and Thymara smiled her agreement.

Day the 21st of the Plough Moon

Year the 7th of the Independent Alliance of Traders

From the Masters of the Bird Keepers' Guild, Trehaug

To the Masters of the Bird Keepers' Guild, Bingtown

To our fellows, greetings.

As was suggested by Master Kerig Sweetwater, we have proceeded with great circumspection and attention to detail in the matter of Kim, formerly Keeper of the Birds, Cassarick, and the grave allegations that have been made against him.

Close scrutiny of the birds coming and going from his coops, an accounting of revenues collected, and the judicious interception and inspection of messages passing through his hands have revealed too many irregularities to be ignored. At best, they indicate a complete disregard for Guild standards, and at worst, treachery to the Guild and treason to the Independent Alliance of Traders. The full extent of his wrongdoing has not yet been established.

For now, he has been stripped of all authority, his birds confiscated, his apprentices reassigned for retraining in correct procedures and his journeymen rebuked for not reporting irregularities that they must have witnessed. Some may eventually be dismissed from the Guild or required to spend additional years as journeymen.

There are indications that the corruption was not confined to Cassarick. As the connections become clear, other bird keepers may face charges of broken contracts or dismissal from the Guild. A painful time is before us, but at least we have flown through the worst of this storm and may soon emerge into better weather.

Thymara felt strangely shy as she took them out of the pouch where she had stored them. ‘They don't really fit me. My claws stick out too far.' By daylight, the gauntlets were green. No trace of Silver clung to them. ‘They're very supple, and I think perhaps they were made especially for her. Amarinda.'

‘Where did they get the dragon hide?' Harrikin wondered aloud.

Thymara shook her head wordlessly. Tats hazarded a guess. ‘It would have been a special gift from a dying dragon, maybe. Or maybe from a dragon who had the duty of devouring a dead dragon.'

‘I don't know. Maybe the answer will be found in one of the memory-stones one day.' A darker thought came to Thymara. ‘Or it might have been taken from a fallen enemy. A dragon who came and tried to raid the well and was defeated.'

‘Did you look for it in Amarinda's pillars?' Carson asked her.

She found she was blushing. ‘No. I didn't find anything about working Silver in her pillars.'

Those who had stayed behind were gathered around the Silver well, former slaves as well as keepers. The slaves still kept their own company, but were beginning to take an interest in the keepers' daily tasks. Carson had been trying to convey to them that if they wanted to share the keepers' food, then they had to share the work as well. Thymara was not completely certain that they understood that. But all of them had begun to look less haggard and cowed. When asked to help, they did, but so far none of them had volunteered. They had debated keeping the Silver and the gauntlets secret from them, but in the end they had decided to not worry about it. To whom could they tell the secrets of Kelsingra? ‘If we knew what the secrets really were,' Carson had added dourly.

In the absence of the dragons, Carson had declared that they had to devise an effective cap for the Silver reservoir. He and Harrikin had hunted the hills for downed trees and had the good fortune to find the trunk of a substantial oak. All had laboured to cut and shape the slabs of timber that they had fashioned into a well cover. It was rough, little more than a rectangle of wood that fit over the well mouth. As it was, it might keep anyone from falling into the well, but it would do little more than that. It was Carson's hope that Thymara might be able to shape it into a securely fitting cap.