Dragon Haven (31 page)

And that was exactly what she saw now as the silver dragon with no name laboriously paddled out into the river. His tail had long healed, but he still held it stiffly as if the skin were too tight. His body had muscled from travel, and since his keepers had wormed him, he had put on healthier flesh. But his legs were still stumpy and short. The wings he now spread were almost normal, however. All the dragons watched in silence as he lifted them carefully, flapped them several times in imitation of Fente, and then drew back his head. When he snapped it forward, jaws wide, Sintara saw that his teeth were twice the size of Fente’s and double rowed. And the cloud of toxin that came forth with his guttural roar was thick and nearly purple. The droplets were large and they fell, hissing, onto the river’s surface. Sintara turned her face away from the acrid scent of strong venom.

“This half a dragon,” the silver said, “can make you no dragon at all.” He turned to glare at them, making sure they understood the threat. “Name? I
TAKE
a name. Spit my name. My name what I do. Fente, say my name.”

The small green dragon spun away from him. She tried to remove herself in a dignified way, but dragons were not designed for swimming. She looked hasty and awkward as she scuttled out of his range. Spit laughed, and when Fente turned her head to hiss at him, he released a small cloud of floating toxins at her. The river wind wafted it away before it could do her any harm. Even so, Mercor reacted to it.

“Spit, save your venom. One of our hunters is gone, and our keepers have lost several of their boats and almost all their weapons. They are not going to be able to hunt as productively as they once did. All of us must strive harder to make our own kills. Save your venom for that.”

“Maybe I eat Fente,” Spit suggested poisonously. But then he turned and paddled back to the shallower water. He waded out onto the muddy shore and with a fine disregard for the filth,
flung himself down to sleep. Sintara suddenly envied him. It would be so good to lie down. She could sleep. When she woke, Thymara and Alise could clean her. She was already dirty, so a bit more mud wouldn’t make any difference. And it was time they both showed some gratitude for her saving them.

Her mind made up, she slogged to what she judged the highest point on the mudbank and eased herself down to sleep. The mud accepted her shape, coldly at first, but as she lay still, almost as a bed of thick grasses would, it warmed her. She lowered her head to her front legs to keep her nose out of the mud and closed her eyes. It was so good to lie down.

Around her, she could hear the other dragons following her example. Ranculos found his old spot beside her, favoring his left side as he lay down. Sestican settled on the other side.

The dragons slept.

Day the 24th of the Prayer Moon

R
elpda tore into the carcass with no complaints about how it stank. Sedric wished he could share her equanimity about it. She stood now always at the edge of his mind and thoughts. The stench of the meat and its rank flavor were like ghost memories in his mouth. He pushed them away, trying not to let it taint the fruit that Carson had gathered.

The hunter had come back as he had promised. Relpda had still been reluctant to reenter the water, so the two men had maneuvered the floating carcass within reach of her raft. It was streaked with mud and had been sampled by scavengers. Relpda didn’t care. Since they had delivered it to her, her only thought had been to fill her belly.

The smooth-barked trees that had defied Sedric had yielded to Carson. For such a large man, he was very spry. He appeared to have no more difficulty ascending than a spider had in running up a wall. Sedric had tried to follow him, but his river-scalded
hands were too tender for climbing. He’d given up when he was just over twice his height up the tree. Even backing down had been tricky. When he launched backward from the trunk, he’d landed badly. Now his ankle was tender.

Carson had returned from his climb just as darkness was falling. He cradled a sling of fruit, some like the stuff that Jess had brought, and two other kinds, one yellow and sweet, and the other the size of his fist, hard and green. So many plants and trees grew in the Rain Wilds, and he knew so little about any of it. He picked up one of the green fruits and turned it in his hands until Carson took it from him without a word and tapped it on the log between them as if it were a hard-boiled egg. The thick green shell peeled away from a pulpy white skin. “Eat it all,” Carson advised him. “They don’t taste like much, but there’s a lot of moisture in them.”

Carson had talked himself out. Sedric had heard the full tale of the wave hitting the ship, and how they had ridden it out, recovered the captain, and then discovered most of the missing keepers. Sedric has been shocked to discover that Alise had not been safely on board the vessel, and relieved she was safe. He’d let the hunter talk himself all the way to silence. Now he watched Sedric. He watched him closely, not with a direct stare, but from the corner of his eye and through his lashes. He shared the fruit out evenly between them, with no mention that Sedric hadn’t done a thing to earn his. Even after he fed the dragon, Sedric kept waiting for Carson to bring up a scheme to kill the creature and make a profit on it. If the other hunter and the captain were in on that plot, it only made sense that Carson would be, too. And if Jess had shared his knowledge of Sedric’s specimens with Carson, that would explain him and Davvie being so attentive and visiting Sedric’s room so often. They’d both know that he had brought dragon blood on board the
Tarman
. Find that trove, and they’d be wealthy men.

When the fruit was gone, Carson had fetched a heavy iron pot from his boat, poured in a small amount of oil, and set fire to it. He cut bits of wood and resinous branch tips from the drier hunks of driftwood and fed the fire in the pot. It gave off smoky
light and welcome heat and kept some of the insects at bay. The two men sat, watching the night deepen over the river. Stars began to show in the strip of sky overhead.

Carson cleared his throat. “I thought you couldn’t talk to the dragons. Couldn’t understand what they said at all.”

Sedric didn’t have a planned answer to that. He ventured close to the truth. “That changed when I began to be around them more. And after she rescued me, after she carried me here, well, we began to understand each other better.” There. True enough and an easy explanation to remember. The best sort of lie. He stared off across the flat surface of the river.

“You don’t talk much, do you?” Carson observed.

“Not much to say,” Sedric replied guardedly. Then his manners caught up with him. “Except thank you.” He forced himself to turn and meet Carson’s sincere eyes. “Thanks for searching for us. I had no idea what I was going to do next. I couldn’t get up a tree to find fruit, and I’ve never been a hunter or a fisherman.” More formally he added, “I am in your debt.” Among Traders, those words were more than a nicety. They acknowledged a genuine obligation.

“Oh, you looked like you were managing well enough,” Carson replied generously. “But usually a man in your situation would be full of his tale, how the wave hit you and what you did…” He let his words trail away hopefully.

Sedric looked off into the darkness. Tell as much of the truth as he could. That would be safe. “I don’t remember the wave hitting. I’d gone ashore to—to stretch my legs. When I came around, Relpda had hold of me and was keeping my head above water. Of course, she was swimming downriver with me, and I had quite a time persuading her that we needed to head for what used to be the shore. I was afraid she’d be exhausted before we got here. But we made it.”

“Yes. We did.” The dragon spoke around a mouthful of meat. She was pleased with herself. Pleased to hear Sedric tell of how she had saved him.

“I’m not surprised you don’t recall everything. Looks like you took a hard knock to the head.”

Sedric lifted a hand to his swollen face. “That I did,” he said quietly. And he tried to let the conversation die. It was almost pleasant to be still in the night next to the flickering fire in the pot. He was still hungry and he ached all over, but at least he didn’t have to wonder how he was going to survive the next day. Carson would take care of him, would get him back to the
Tarman
. His smelly little cabin beckoned him now, a haven from open water and starvation. There would be clean clothing there, and hot water and a razor. Cooked food in the galley. Simple things that he suddenly valued.
That wasn’t very admirable,
he thought. Earlier in the day, he’d been able to take care of himself and a dragon. Yesterday, he’d been capable of killing to stay alive. But now he was ready to abandon all pretense of being competent in this world and let someone else do all the worrying and the thinking.

No wonder Hest had been able to discard him so easily.

Planning to smuggle dragon parts to Chalced was the closest he’d had to a personal plan of action in years. And look how well that had turned out! Almost as well as his previous suggestion that Hest marry Alise. Such happiness that had brought to all three of them. When had he let go of his own life? When had he become a bit of driftwood caught in Hest’s current, tossed and turned and shaped by him and then, eventually, washed up here with the other debris? Idly he watched Carson add a piece of twisted white wood to the pot. Yes. That was him. Fuel for another man’s flames.

Carson sighed suddenly. He seemed disappointed but game to forge ahead. “Well. Here’s our plan for tomorrow, then. I’d like to get up as early as we can see and head back upriver to the
Tarman
. Captain Leftrin and I agreed that I wouldn’t go more than a day’s paddle downriver, but I’ll admit that I covered a lot more distance than I thought I would. I may have to paddle hard to get back to him before sunset tomorrow. Think your dragon will be ready to travel by then?”

His dragon. Was she his dragon now?

Just thinking that question turned her awareness toward him.

Yes. You are my keeper. And I’ll be ready to journey tomorrow. On to Kelsingra!

“On to Kelsingra,” he affirmed quietly. “We’ll be ready to travel.”

Carson grinned. The smile and the firelight transformed the man’s face. He was not, Sedric suddenly realized, that much older than he was. “Kelsingra,” Carson agreed. “The end of the rainbow.”

“You don’t believe we’ll get there?”

The hunter shrugged his shoulders. “Who cares? It will make a better tale if we do. But I’ve gone on longer expeditions than this with far humbler goals. This one called to me for a lot of reasons. Get Davvie out and about and away from danger. But I think I’m along for the same reason Leftrin is. A man wants to do something that leaves a mark. If we find that city, or even if we just find the place that it used to be, we’ll have set the Rain Wilds and Bingtown on their ear. How often does a fellow get a chance to do something like that? At the very least, we’ve expanded the map. Every night, Swarge sits down and does his sketches and entries, and Captain Leftrin adds his notes. Jess was keeping a log of his own. I’ve put in a bit or two about the game we caught and what sorts of trees and riverside we found. All that information will go into the records and be stored at the Rain Wild Traders’ Concourse. Years from now, when someone wants to anchor up for the night, they’ll be doing it on the basis of what we’ve told them. Our names will be remembered.
The
Tarman
Expedition to Kelsingra
. Something like that. That’s something, you know. That’s something to be part of.”

Sedric had been staring at the firepot as Carson spoke. Now he glanced at him surreptitiously. For the first time he saw the animation in his face. His deep-set brown eyes shone, and his lips, nestled in his beard, curved in a smile of purest satisfaction. Sedric had never heard anyone so pleased over such an intangible thing. He’d seen Hest in a paroxysm of joy over closing a rich deal, and he’d witnessed his father drunkenly celebrating a partnership in a trading trip. Always it had been about the
wealth, the money, and the power and status that went with it. That had been the measure of the man, the status of the Trader in Bingtown. And it was how a man was measured in every town in Chalced and in Jamaillia and every other civilized place he’d ever visited. So he watched Carson and waited for the quirk of the lips or the bitter laugh that would expose his mockery of himself.

It didn’t come. And although he’d said he’d come along for the same reason as Leftrin, he hadn’t mentioned the taking of dragon parts and the riches to be made from them.

“It sounds like the stuff of dreams,” he said, mostly to fill in the gap in the conversation, but wondering if it might provoke the man to confide the larger plan to him. Before he went back to the
Tarman,
he needed to know how ruthless Captain Leftrin was. Was Alise in physical danger from the man?

“I suppose. Every man has a dream. But I’m not telling you anything. You and Alise, documenting the dragons and ferreting out what they can recall of the Elderlings. It’s the same thing, exploring territory where no one has gone, at least not in a long time.”

“There will be money to be made from this,” Sedric ventured.

Carson did laugh then. “Maybe. I rather doubt it. If it comes about, it will likely be after I’m in my grave. Oh, some of the keepers see it that way.” Carson smiled as he shook his head. “Greft’s full of himself; he’s going to be the founder of a new Rain Wild settlement, the keepers will claim the wealth of Kelsingra as their own, and the dragons will help them defend their claim. The ships and workers will come up the river, there will be trade, and he’ll be a rich man.”

“Greft says that?” Sedric was shocked. He respected Greft’s intelligence, but the young man had always seemed to be too full of hostility to have grandiose plans for himself.

“Not to me, of course. But he whispers it to the other keepers, as if such talk would stay in one place. I suspect a lot of his notions came from Jess. Jess is fond of claiming to be both worldly wise and well educated. By which I think he means
that he once read a book. He has filled that boy’s head with all sorts of nonsense.” Carson leaned over and snapped a snag off a piece of the floating pack. The way he broke it spoke of extreme annoyance.

When he spoke again, he sounded calmer. “Oh, it may happen that Kelsingra is found and we establish a settlement there, but not the way he visualizes it. For one thing, he hasn’t got enough people, and too few of them are female. He’s barely got the population to start a village, let alone a city. And Rain Wilders, as I’m sure you know, don’t breed easily. The babies who manage to be born sometimes live less than a year. And a Rain Wilder is an old man at forty.” Carson scratched his scaly cheek above his beard. “So, even if a big discovery does persuade a boatload of new settlers to come, the new will likely outnumber the old, and they’ll have their say about how things are done. And while Greft and the other keepers may discover riches, well, you can’t eat Elderling artifacts. Don’t we all know that! As long as the Elderling treasures remained in the Rain Wilds, it did no one any good. We had to ship them out to where people could come to bargain for them. That’s why Bingtown is the big trading town and Trehaug isn’t; if we didn’t trade, we’d starve. And if we do find Kelsingra, and there is treasure there, the Traders driving the deals for those things will know that better than anyone. Men experienced at squeezing every bit of fat out of a deal will come. King Greft would have to sit at their bargaining table and play by their rules. Still. By the time Davvie’s a full man, there might be a future for him in Kelsingra.”

He cleared his throat and poked another dry stick into his firepot. Sedric was silent, picturing Greft or any of the keepers at a trading table with Hest. He’d eat them alive and pick his teeth with their bones.

A fat silver fish leaped suddenly out of the water after a low buzzing insect. It fell back into its world with a splash, and Carson laughed aloud. “Listen to me, spinning dreams and tales as if I were a minstrel. If anything of Kelsingra remains, and if we find it…”

“What if we find nothing?”

“Well. I’ve wondered that, too. At what point will Captain Leftrin give up and say that we’re going back to Trehaug? To be honest, I don’t see him doing that. For one thing, the keepers and the dragons can’t go back. There’s nothing there for them. He has to keep going until he finds somewhere that those creatures can live. And that would be nearly as big a discovery as Kelsingra.” Carson scratched his beard thoughtfully. “For another, as long as Leftrin pushes on, he has Alise at his side. The minute he turns that barge around, he’s just counting down the days until he loses her.” He lifted an eyebrow at Sedric and added, “Pardon me if I’m talking out of turn, but that’s how I see it.