Blood of Dragons (42 page)

With every passing moment, Hest gained more confidence in his position. He was just on the point of stepping forth and demanding that his rights as a Bingtown Trader be recognized when four of the Chalcedeans attempted to escape. The response of the red dragon sent them scurrying back, and Hest quickly moved as far away from the culprits as he could. If the dragon decided to dispatch one or more of them, he did not want to be confused with them.

The tumult among the Kelsingra Elderlings was subsiding. A woman was weeping and holding onto the scarlet man while a stouter fellow had draped an arm across his shoulders. Some crisis had passed, it appeared, though he had no idea what it meant. In avoiding the Chalcedeans, he had moved to the outer fringe of the huddled captives. Most of them had fallen silent, though a few still wept or cursed quietly. The slaves had squatted down to passively await whatever fate would befall them now. Clearly this was not the first time that the course of their lives had changed without their consent.

His fears calmed, he coldly assessed his position. So his ‘wife' had turned sailor's whore. There was a lever he could use. If she had any sense of shame left at all, he might be able to persuade her to pretend she was dead and let him inherit all her share in return for his keeping silent about her sluttish behaviour. She could not possibly return to Bingtown after what she had done, not if she cared for her family at all. So, Alise was not a problem. He'd have all he wanted from her, and be able to return unencumbered by her.

He could see that others among the captives were likewise evaluating their positions. The two Jamaillian merchants were talking fast and low to one another, surely discussing what trade terms they could offer, and who would not only ransom them but send enough coin that they could buy priceless Elderling relics to take home with them. He saw them look over at the keepers, who had been joined by the ship's crew and were in earnest discussion. Only the dragon was watching their captives now, but one dragon was an ample guard for all of them. What were the Jamaillians trying to discern? Probably the same thing that Trader Candral was puzzling about. Who was truly in charge here? Who would not only decide his fate, but be the person who would negotiate their future?

Hest ran his eyes over them, dismissing the sailors in their rough clothes, considering only those masquerading as Elderlings. His eyes snagged on one tall fellow, standing at the edge of the crowd. He was watching the street behind him, waiting for someone, and ignoring the lively discussion among the dragon keepers. Hest read him carefully. Of all of the Elderlings, he best maintained his bearing. Carefully attired in garments that complemented one another as well as his own colouring and in gleaming black boots, he had a born gentility to his posture. The wind tossed his cloak gently and moved his hair on his shoulders. A handsome fellow, lean and tall and well muscled, his scaling was coppery-brown over his own tanned skin. Hest felt a stirring of interest in him and smiled to himself. It would be a novelty to run his hands over smoothly scaled flesh. The tall man turned and said something to one of the others. From the depths of his hood, Hest stared at the copper Elderling.

Sedric.

But it could not be. The man would easily be of a height with Hest. Sedric had always been willowy and slight, forever boyish. This fellow was unmistakably a man, his shoulders wide and his chest deep. Then as a smile broke out on his face, he was unmistakably and forever Sedric, but a Sedric transformed by magic into an exotic and magnificent creature. Hest gazed at him, entranced. All Sedric's flaws had been burnt away. Hest evaluated him, studying how he stood, watching and waiting. The almost-childish softness that had become an irritant to Hest over the last few years had been chiselled away, perhaps by hardship. However it had happened, it was gone, replaced by muscle and firmness. Here was someone who would yield to Hest, but not as easily as the old Sedric had. His pulse quickened at the thought. Sedric had become worthy again of his attention. And when Hest brought him back to Bingtown, what a sensation he would be in their circle!

With a dizzying lurch, Hest suddenly realized that Sedric had fulfilled his dream. Dragon parts or no, the share of the city that Hest could claim through his trollop wife and his employee was a staggering amount. His eyes roamed over the city above the docks, and his heart suddenly leapt to new ambitions and ideas. Any one of those mansions could be claimed as his. Here, truly, he could live however he wanted to live, away from the condemnation of Bingtown and family. Did he need to return to Bingtown and take up his life there, under his father's watchful and disapproving eye? With the wealth he could rightfully claim, he could establish himself here, his friends could join him, and once trade was launched with other cities, he could travel wherever he wished. And Sedric had done it! He'd done it for both of them!

Sedric. He had been a half-schooled youngster when Hest had plucked him out of his dull and stunted life. Unsophisticated and naïve, everything about Hest had left Sedric wide-eyed with wonder. Hest had educated him in the ways that a young Trader's son should live, taught him how to dress and ride and dine, to choose a wine or critique a play. And he supposed that along the way, he'd wakened his appetites and his ambition for a finer life than that for which his humble family had prepared him. Hest shook his head in wonder, not just at Sedric but at himself. They'd laugh about all this some day, how Hest had inadvertently set Sedric's feet on the path that had won him a fortune. He looked at him with fondness and some pride.
So many misunderstandings along the way,
Sedric. So many missteps on your part. But nonetheless, here we are, and fortune smiles on me through you.

Hest took a moment to straighten his collar. He would step out from amongst the captives, stand proud as he threw his hood back and called Sedric's name. He paused a moment to savour the amazement and joy he would kindle in Sedric's eyes. Not to mention the awe and envy of the prisoners as he alone was greeted and welcomed by the gleaming bronze man.

He had stepped free of the others and lifted his hands to his hood when he heard someone call Sedric's name. And there, coming down the street, a bow slung across his shoulder, was the man Sedric had been watching for. There was a youngster at his side carrying several dead birds. Hunters returning with their kills? He saw how the smile widened on Sedric's face, a look both of welcome and relief. Sedric strode hastily to meet them as Hest watched in consternation. What could he possibly have to say to such a rough man?

He lost all interest in his own fate as he watched Sedric greet the two newcomers. He took a moment to speak to the youngster who displayed his grisly trophies with evident pride. Hest was shocked when Sedric actually took hold of one bird and hefted it approvingly before returning it to the lad. But then, as Sedric began explaining with obvious excitement all that was going on, the tall hunter put his arm around him and pulled him close. Sedric leaned on him for an instant in obvious affection. Then, in an open display of warmth, the tall hunter kept his arm around Sedric as they walked toward the others. It was impossible to miss the bond between the two of them. A wash of numbness spread up from Hest's belly. Sedric had replaced him? Had forgotten him and set him aside for a handsome savage? The insult scored him with a thousand claws. Jealousy roiled through him, followed by cold hatred.

Sedric would regret his faithlessness. There were many ways to hurt a man like him.

Day the 12th of the Plough Moon

Year the 7th of the Independent Alliance of Traders

From Reyall, Keeper of the Birds, Bingtown

To Detozi, Keeper of the Birds, Trehaug and Erek

Dear Aunt Detozi and Uncle Erek,

I think perhaps you have been expecting to receive this letter for a long time, perhaps for as long as I have been hoping to send it. I know that initially you both had reservations about me courting a Three Ships girl. But I thank Erek for not only taking the time to get to know Karlin, but speaking well of her and of our desire to become engaged. I know that my parents have expressed trepidations about how an ‘outsider' will react to a Rain Wilds youth with quite a bit more than ‘minor' scaling. Neither she nor her family have ever made an issue of it!

And now, I will remind you all quite cheerfully of what Erek told me when he was instructing me in managing the breeding records of the birds given into my care: ‘It is always healthy to introduce new blood of a good quality into an established line.'

And such is our intention!

Her parents are, of course, just as conservative as mine in this matter. They have told us that we must wait a full year, but are allowing us to announce our intentions publicly at last!

So, enclosed, the public announcement of our engagement! Please post it prominently so all may share my pride and joy! One scroll on every tree in the Rain Wilds still could not express it!

Reyall – a Very Happy Man

‘I wish we could take this discussion somewhere warm and speak of it calmly,' Alise said quietly. She was sheltered in the angle of Leftrin's arm, his cloak around her as well as her own. She knew her body was not cold, but the rising cold that she felt inside her was making her feel ill. She was still tired from her time in the stones; even with Leftrin holding her, she felt the lure of them tugging at her like small children begging for her attention. Too much was happening too fast. She felt shamed by the misery and uncertainty in the eyes of the captives and the abject resignation of the thin, scarred slaves filled her with horror. Alone, that would have been bad enough, but the keepers were quarrelling as if they were still the youngsters they had been when they left Trehaug. Kase, Boxter and Jerd were in favour of letting the dragons do whatever they wished with all the captives. They were the extreme. All of the others had taken up varying opinions as to what fate was deserved by the slaves, the Jamaillian traders, the Chalcedean dragon-hunters and the others. Rapskal had calmed somewhat. His earlier martial attitude had been completely at odds with all Alise knew of the young keeper. Thymara's attitude toward Rapskal's transformation had mirrored her own. She and Tats flanked him now, Tats with an arm across his shoulder and Thymara clasping his arm, as if their physical touch could keep him in this world and time.

Perhaps it could. She knew that she only slept deeply now when she could anchor her body to Leftrin's warm back, only felt solidly in this world when, as now, she held his hand in both of hers. She regretted her sojourn among the memory-stones even as she knew that it had been necessary, and that she would one day attempt it again. The knowledge she sought was too important to all of them. She tightened her grip on Leftrin and struggled to keep her thoughts in this world and time.

She glanced away and her eyes met Carson's. He shook his head slowly at her, mirroring her dismay. He had arrived late on the scene, come back from hunting with Davvie and his catch. She knew from Leftrin that he had been taking more time with his foster-nephew lately. Davvie and Lecter quarrelled often of late, and Carson had been blunt with them both, telling them that he thought they were choosing one another by default rather than based on a true attraction. She did not think his bald stating of the situation was very helpful to either of them, even if she secretly agreed with it.

Carson lifted his voice in a shout that silenced half a dozen angry and worried arguments among the keepers and stilled the anxious shouts of the prisoners. ‘Let's round them up and take them to the baths. No matter how guilty they may be, they are still human, and even the dragons have said there are innocent men among them. So let us act as befits who we are, rather than who we think they might be. Take them to the baths, let them be clean and warm, and let us be comfortable as well while we discuss this.'

He had a way, Alise thought. Harrikin backed him with, ‘Carson's right. They may be brutes but we are not.' Kase and Boxter were already in motion as if they were sheepdogs given a command. The cousins moved in unison, flanking the prisoners and shouting at them to get up and follow the Elderling in forest green, since they were being taken to a judgment place. That was a bit more harsh than she would have phrased it, but it did get them up and moving.

Leftrin tugged at her arm. ‘Come, my love. Let's get you a hot cup of tea and something to eat. I'll wager you haven't eaten yet today.'

‘I haven't,' she admitted. It was strange to sit down with him to their simple foods and humble settings when her mind still reeled with memories of elegant meals in elaborately staged venues. Scarlet wine would not fountain from a carved flower to fall into a chilled crystal goblet for her. Just hot tea with Leftrin. That was as she preferred it. Surely not all the Elderlings had lived that way, but the ones who considered themselves worthy of preserving their complete memories seemed to have pursued lives of utter luxury. Perhaps, she mused, she had been seeking information from the wrong stratum of society. Where, then, should she have looked?

‘Alise!'

Startled, she turned her head to see who had shouted her name. The voice was hoarse. She looked at her friends but found that the Elderlings around her were staring back over their shoulders at the weary prisoners who were trailing them. As she stared in consternation, a tall man flung back the hood of his cloak. ‘Alise!' he cried, and his voice trembled with warmth now. ‘My darling, is it truly you? After all the days and all the hardship, I've found you at last! I've come to take you home!'

She stared. Then she began to shake, not a trembling, but a shuddering. Her knees buckled and she would have fallen if Leftrin had not tightened his arm around her. She felt every muscle in his body tighten and his chest swell with anger. ‘Hest,' she breathed in a choked whisper, confirming what Leftrin had already guessed.