Dragon Stones (40 page)

She realized suddenly that the sailors had fallen silent, and were now looking at her.  Did they expect her to say something?  Her gaze sought out Rennald; he met her eyes and gave a little nod.  Evidently it was her turn to speak.  She stood, nearly losing her balance in the gently rocking boat; several hands steadied her to keep her from falling overboard.  "I didn't know Talbrett for very long," she said.  "I only met him on the docks in Dunshandrin Town.  I told him I was in trouble, and he helped me, and because of that he died.  I'm sorry that—"

She broke off because they had started shouting again, protesting that she had nothing to apologize for, lauding Talbrett's heroism; one was so inebriated that he couldn't form actual words and settled for grunts and squeals.  Rennald quieted them all with some cursing and a few well-placed cuffs, then turned to Tolaria and said:  "Talbrett helped you because he wanted to.  He took that dagger because he wanted to.  You were under his protection; he couldn't let that bastard harm you."

She hung her head.  "If he knew how things would turn out, he would have left me there on Dunshandrin's dock."

"Perhaps," Rennald said.  "And perhaps he would have done everything exactly the same way.  There are some things even an oracle cannot know, eh, Tolaria?"

After a moment, she said:  "Yes.  Yes, there are."

"So no more talk of
being sorry," Rennald said.  "You're alive, so be glad!  Talbrett is dead, but he died nobly and courageously instead of twitching in his bed, so be glad!"

The others voiced their approval and she smiled a little.  She thought she might speak more, but suddenly the torches went out and all the voices were stilled and she was alone on the lake, standing on the still, dark water as if it were solid earth.  A wind rushed over her; the cold pinprick stars overhead disappeared as a massive shape passed above her, heading toward the town.

A moment later she was lying on her back with a number of concerned faces looking down at her.

"Are you all right?" Rennald said.  "You swooned again."

"I'm all right," she said.  "Just … faint.  That's all."

"You haven't eaten enough today," Rennald said.

"She hasn't drunk enough!" someone cried.  The men laughed, but Rennald silenced them with a look.

"We'll head back to shore, so you can rest," he said.

"No, I'm fine," she said.  "Don't hurry back on my account.  Stay here, and say a proper goodbye to Talbrett."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"All right then.  Who'd like to speak next?"

And, of course, they all started talking at once.

Pyodor Ponn sat on the chair in the tiny garret room, Prehn on his lap, as his daughter told him what had happened after Gelt had invited her to come and see his eagles.  "We went to the waterfall," Prehn said.  "He had a big pretty bird there.  It had brown wings and a yellow head and—"

"Prehn, you were very naughty to go with that man," Ponn interrupted.  "You know that, don't you?"

"I know."

"And you'll never do anything like that again, will you?"

"No, Da.  I won't."

"All right.  And what happened next?"

She continued with her story.  Someone had grabbed her from behind, putting a sack over her head.  She'd stayed in the sack a long time before being let out in the mountains, where the air was cold and thin.  She told him about being kept in a net of rough rope that hurt her skin, then about being rescued.

A tired voice said:  "The child talks."

Ponn looked toward the bed.  The woman, Diasa, was awake and watching them.  Her voice sounded dry, husky, totally unrested.  "Of course she talks," Ponn said.  "She's nearly five."

"Well," Diasa said, "she wouldn't talk to
me
."

"Don't talk to strangers," Prehn said.

Diasa laughed, then sagged back against the pillows and closed her eyes.  "Don't talk to strangers," she murmured, shaking her head.  "Too bad she didn't apply that to Gelt."

"He would have taken her by force, then," Ponn said.

Diasa grunted.

"Where's Adwan?" Prehn said.

"Adwan?"

"She means the footpad," Diasa said.

"Oh.  He's … not here, Prehn.  He's gone."

"Gone where?"

"He had to go away."

"But where?"

"Don't lie to the child," Diasa said.  "Tell her the truth.  Dunshandrin's miserable whelps killed him."

"Oh," Prehn said.  "Killed dead?"

"Most likely," Diasa said.

"Oh."  Then:  "What's a whelp?"

"You are," Diasa said.

Ponn gave her a frosty look.  "Kindly do not refer to my daughter as a
whelp
."

"Sorry.  I meant no offense."

"I might find that easier to believe had you not just used the term to refer to Dunshandrin's children."

"You are not here to quarrel with each other," Wert said.  "You were brought together to talk, to plan.  We must take this battle to Dunshandrin's door now, or it will be too late."

They both looked at the old man, who stood, forgotten, in the doorway.  "You know when we're coming, you know when we're going," Diasa said.  "You know when I need to be at the dock to meet Tolaria, you know what potion Tolaria needs to save me from Gelt's poison.
 Now you know that we must go to Dunshandrin's castle.  How do you know all these things?
"

Wert drew himself to his full height, which made him scarcely taller than Pord, and said:  "I am an oracle, and you would do well to remember it."

"For as long as I've known you, you've been a madman."

"Gelt is here?" Ponn said.

"He was.  
Now he's floating in the lake.  Food for the fish, if any would eat the likes of him."

"You killed him?"

"I did."

"The old man told me you had been injured by an assassin.  I didn't know he meant Gelt.  
Were you badly hurt?"

"The wound was barely a scratch, but the blade was poisoned," she said.  "I think it's working its way out of me.  I'm feeling stronger now."

"Good," Ponn said.  "What about Gelt's mount?  He must have ridden an eagle here."

"Most likely.  I don't know where it might be; there hasn't been much opportunity to search for it, as you can imagine."

"He came alone?"

"Yes.  He was sent here to kill Tolaria."

"Tolaria," Ponn said.  "Where is she?  Is she downstairs?"

"No," Diasa said.  "She's at a funeral."  Then, seeing the look on his face:  "She'll be safe enough.  She's surrounded by angry, drunken sailors."

"Well, that hardly sounds safe at all," Ponn said.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Talbrett's men spent a long time drinking toasts and liberally spiking the lake with cheap wine; after an hour or more of shivering on Lake Achenar, they finally rowed back to the dock, mooring the skiff near the now-empty
Pride
.  With its cargo unloaded, the ship rode high in the water.  
As he helped Tolaria out of the boat, Rennald invited her to come to the saloon at the sailors' hostel; she demurred and instead he escorted her back to the inn where Diasa was staying, seeing her safely to the door before leaving.  She entered and scanned the place, hoping to find the dragon in its human form; she spotted the creature immediately, sitting at a table in the back corner, watching the other patrons, her face devoid of expression.  Tolaria went to her and said:  "T'Sian?"

The woman looked at her.  "Who are you?"

"Tolaria."

"How much can you pay?"

"What?"

"I charge extra for women."

"I'm sorry, I don't understand."

The woman sighed, as if Tolaria were being deliberately obtuse.  "Don't give me a hard time," she said.  "A lot of others wouldn't even take the likes of you."

Just then Tolaria felt a tug on her sleeve and, turning, saw Wert at her side.  "Not her," he whispered.  "She's a harlot."  He pointed across the room, to a figure standing alone at the fireplace, staring into the flames.  "You want to talk to
her.
"

"Oh," Tolaria said, feeling herself flush.  Then, to the prostitute:  "My mistake.  I thought you were someone else."

The woman looked at T'Sian, then back at Tolaria.  "Whoever that is, I'm better.  And prettier."

"Sorry.  Sorry."  Tolaria fumbled a few coins out of her pocket and gave them to the woman.  She felt the slattern's gaze on her back as Wert led her away.

"You didn't have to give her your money," Wert said.

"I know.  I was embarrassed."

The dragon glanced at them as they approached; and now that Tolaria had actually seen T'Sian for herself, up close, she knew she would never mistake a human for a dragon again.  T'Sian's face looked wrong, askew; her eyes were too far apart, her mouth too wide, her skin too tight, her gaze too intense.  The whore had been right; despite her thick paint and hard eyes, she was by far the prettier of the two, if only because she was conventional.

Wert shoved Tolaria right in front of the dragon, presenting her for inspection.  "T'Sian, this is Tolaria.  Tolaria, T'Sian."

"Hello," Tolaria said.

T'Sian didn't answer.

Tolaria thought for a moment.  "I know you have journeyed far, and you must have many questions.  Why don't we—"

"Why does
he
get
his
child back?" T'Sian said.

"I'm sorry?"

"You are the oracle?  The wise one?  Tell me, why does Pyodor Ponn get his child back, while I get nothing?"

"I—"  Tolaria broke off as T'Sian stormed away, moving off to the far corner, looking ready to burn the inn down.

"Go and talk to her," Wert said, giving Tolaria a firm push.  She reluctantly went to where the dragon stood.

"Do you know how long it took me to have babies?" T'Sian said, as soon as Tolaria was near enough to hear her over the babble of the guests.  "It is not easy for my kind, you know.  We are few, and infertile.  Not like you.  You creatures produce children as easily as you draw breath.  Pop, pop, pop!"

She had hardly expected her first conversation with the dragon to be like this.  "Try to think about the babies you'll have in the future," she said.  "After this is all over, and you have gone back to your home—"

T'Sian interrupted her with a fierce snort.  Tolaria almost expected to see fire shoot out from between her ruby lips.  "You know nothing about dragons," she said.

"How could I know anything?" Tolaria said.  "What is written that I could read?  Who knows that I could talk to?  Certainly one hears of a dragon destroying a town or village now and then, but nothing about their … reproduction."

"I told you we were not fertile.  After one breeding, we are finished.  Having those hatchlings nearly killed me.  I spent years raising them.  You would have been but an infant, if even that, when my babies were born."

"Oh."

"No doubt that is why they chose my lair," she said.  "They knew I would have extra crystals, because of the hatchlings.  I know of no other dragon who has had babies in decades, and now mine are dead.  Wicked, wicked men."

"I'm sorry," Tolaria said.  "I didn't know about … that you couldn't ..."

"Dunshandrin must suffer my vengeance.  Men cannot believe that they may trifle with the future of my kind."

They stood there a moment, looking at each other; and then Wert appeared between them, as if he had sprung out of the floorboards.  "The savage has come down.  We must talk."

The old man took them to a table near the stairs.  Prehn was there, sitting on a man's lap; the resemblance, beyond even the color of the skin, eyes, and hair, was unmistakable.  "You must be Pyodor Ponn," Tolaria said, confident that, for once this night, she would be correct.

"Yes.  You are Tolaria?"

"I am."

"We need Diasa," Wert said.  "Where is she?"

"When I left her, she was cleaning and oiling her weapon," Ponn said.  "Apparently it had gotten wet."

Wert frowned.  "She should be here."

"She said she would come down when she was finished."

The little man chewed his lip, then apparently decided that there was nothing to be done about it and sat back in his chair, eyeing the crowd.  Tolaria watched him for a moment, then said:  "Wert, are you looking for someone?"

"The wizard is coming," Wert said.

"Orioke?" Tolaria said.  "Orioke is coming here?"

Wert looked at T'Sian.  "He knows you are here."

"I cannot face him yet," T'Sian said.  "I have no fire.  He took it away from me."