Blood of Dragons - Страница 32

Alise looked intrigued and Malta had to smile. ‘It’s a long tale, but if you wish, I’ll tell it to you. But not now. I’m exhausted.’

‘Of course you are. And I heard Tarman’s crew say that everything on board would be off-loaded tonight so that they could move him to a safer place across the river. I’ll go and make sure your things are brought here. Now. Before I leave, is there anything else you need?’

‘Only Reyn,’ Malta replied honestly.

Alise laughed, the sort of laugh that women share. ‘Of course. It was so clever of him to keep the keepers occupied. All of them are buzzing with curiosity about why you are here and all you can teach them of Elderling ways. The King and the Queen of the Elderlings. Did you ever think those titles would come to mean so much? For here, they do. I heard the youngsters talking.’

Malta stared at her. Alise smiled and spoke more softly. ‘They think you’ve come to lead them. To use your power and stature to establish Kelsingra. I heard Rapskal say, “They will call us the Dragon Traders, and we will stand on an even footing with Bingtown or the Pirate Isles or even Jamaillia. They’ll respect us now that our king and queen are here.”’ Alise dropped her voice. ‘I know it isn’t why you came. But you need to know that. Every word you speak here carries weight with these young Elderlings. They’ll be gathered around Reyn now, hanging on his every word. But I’ll free him from them and send him up to you. And I’ll let them know that their queen wishes her trunks delivered tonight. And it will happen.’

‘Alise, I can’t deal with this,’ Malta replied feebly. ‘I never thought …’ Words failed her. Useless things. She was so tired. Stupidly tired. She’d forgotten all about Tillamon. ‘Reyn’s sister … will you help her find us here? She must be as tired as I am, and I just left her there at the docks. So rude, but I’m just so tired.’

Alise looked a bit surprised. ‘Well, I thought Tillamon said that she wanted to stay on board Tarman tonight, and help take him across to the village tomorrow. But if you wish, I’ll ask after her.’

‘Sleep aboard Tarman? Well, as she wishes. I thought she might want to join us here where things are so comfortable. But perhaps the memory-noise would bother her.’ Malta was suddenly too tired to think about it any more. ‘Please, just ask Reyn to come up. And goodnight to you, and many, many thanks for your welcome here.’

‘Goodnight. And by tomorrow morning, I am sure we can persuade one of the dragons to speak to you. I’ll ask every keeper to summon his dragon, to speak with the King and Queen of the Elderlings. Surely one will be able to help your babe.’

King and Queen. It made her ridiculously sad. The dreams of Malta the girl might come true even as the longings of Phron’s mother were destroyed. She had no words for it. ‘Alise, you have been too kind. I have been thoughtless …’

‘You are just tired,’ Alise replied firmly, with a smile. ‘Get some rest. I’ll free Reyn from the keepers and send him up.’

Alise slipped from the room, pulling the door closed quietly behind her. It was a relief to let the false smile fade from her face. Tragedy. She had never seen such a bony baby. And despite what the keepers said, Malta the Elderling Queen was gone, replaced by a grieving mother with a lined face. The hot water had brightened her scale colours, but her once-golden hair reminded Alise of the dead straw after harvest, and her hands were claw-like. Beauty had fled before life’s harshness. She wondered if it would ever return.

She hurried down the hall and then down the spiralling stair. The dragon baths, with its hot water and comfortable lodgings, were a popular gathering place for the keepers. At the back of the entry hall, behind the stairs, a door led to a gathering space. A long table and chairs and benches that became comfortable after one sat on them filled that room. Beyond it, there was a kitchen area. It illuminated when one entered, and the cupboards and work-tables reminded Alise of the cooking space in many a Bingtown mansion. But there was no hearth, only stone ovens and several mysterious work-benches. There was a large basin with a drain in it, and a mechanism that possibly should have furnished water, but no one had deduced how to make it work.

So cooking took place in an alley behind the building. It had pained her heart to see the keepers build a large hearth of rubble where they cooked game meat on spits over driftwood hauled up from the riverbank. She knew it was a necessity, but the mess it created in the formerly pristine city shamed her. In this, Rapskal was right. There was a way to use this city, and the sooner they learned it, the better for both city and keepers. For now, she felt as if she were part of a barbarian invasion rather than a group of settlers reclaiming a beautiful place.

She opened the door to conversation and the smell of cooked food and almost swooned when she smelled hot tea. She had not tasted tea for months! And bread, there were rounds of hard bread in baskets on the table. It seemed no less than a miracle. She made her way to the table, past a jumble of stacked crates and barrels, the foodstuffs unloaded from Tarman. With relief, she saw a number of large trunks and cases that probably belonged to Malta.

She went to where Reyn sat at the head of the long table. Six keepers clustered about him, and Lecter was telling the tale of how they had treated the dragons for rasp snakes on their way to Kelsingra. Reyn was leaning forward on the table, the picture of a rapt listener, or a very weary man who might otherwise collapse. Alise spoke crisply. ‘Enough! It’s time to let this man join his wife and child in some well-earned rest after such a journey. There will be plenty of time to exchange news and tales tomorrow.’

‘After you summon the dragons for us,’ Reyn ventured.

The smiles around the table faded a bit. ‘I’ll try,’ Sylve volunteered quickly. The others exchanged glances. Their thoughts were plain to Alise. Their King and Queen wished to speak with their dragons, but no one could promise the dragons would come.

‘Let the poor man get some rest!’ she insisted again, and Reyn seized the opportunity to stand up.

The gathered keepers groaned at losing him. He gave them a weary smile. ‘I would greatly welcome a bit of assistance with our trunks,’ he said gently, and the response was overwhelming.

Alise took the opportunity to slip out of the gathering. Her heart beat faster at the thought of her own reunion. She paused only to get her cloak and then hastened out of the door.

It was raining yet she wasn’t cold. She pulled up the hood of her midnight-blue Elderling cloak. It was spangled with yellow stars at the hem. Her feet and legs were warmly covered in Elderling garb as well. Sylve had been the one to bring it to her, telling her that everyone thought it ridiculous that she went clad in leaking boots and a ragged cloak while they walked in warmth and finery. ‘But … I am not a true Elderling like the rest of you,’ she had said. It was as close as she had come to admitting to anyone how much of an outsider she had become.

Sylve had scowled, her scaled brow wrinkling, first in puzzlement and then in annoyance. ‘Rapskal,’ she sighed in disgust. ‘Think of all the peculiar things that boy says, and then tell me why any of them should be taken seriously. Not an Elderling … Oh. I suppose that technically he was right. But only in that you have no dragon to demand ridiculous tasks on a moment’s notice. Not that Sintara would hesitate to do so! But, Alise, please, you have come all this way with us, done so much for us. Without you, do you think we would be here? Would we ever have dared believe this place existed? Look. I chose these for you, the colours will suit you. I’ve seen you wear the Elderling robe that Leftrin gave you, so why not dress as one of us?’

Alise had had no response to that. Not sure if she felt humbled or honoured, she had taken the garments from Sylve’s hands. And worn them the next day.

Now she pulled her Elderling cloak tighter around her as she strode through the windy streets and it was like wrapping herself in Sylve’s friendship. Winter had loosened its harsh grip on the land, and the last few days had seemed almost spring-like, but every evening the chill settled again and wind swept through the city.

The streets of Kelsingra were like the streets of no other city in the world. She hurried alone, the sole living figure on a thoroughfare wide enough for two dragons to pass one another. The buildings soared on either side of her, structure after structure with steps, porticos and entries scaled to dragons. Empty and dark, the broad streets still teemed with remembered Elderlings and occasional dragons, all bathed in an imaginary light. To that remembered illumination was added the light that spilled from the awakened city windows, now white, now golden, now a muted blue. A few of the larger buildings gently glowed in the darkness, acting as beacons within the city. She turned her face toward the waterfront.

She had seen Leftrin from the shore, shouted a greeting to him, and saw on his face all that she longed to hear him say. He had glanced around, agonized by the conflict between duty and longing, and she had suddenly known that she did not want to be something that required that sort of decision. He had to think only of his ship now, not arrange to have her board and become a distraction.

She remembered how the voice of Malta the Elderling had broken into her dilemma. ‘Alise? Alise Finbok? Is that you?’ She had felt startled and honoured that the Elderlings had seen fit to come to Kelsingra. Until she had seen the woman’s haggard face and skeletal child, and then a very different emotion had filled her. She had glanced back only once at Leftrin as she had taken charge of them, and had been proud to see the relief on his face. She had lifted a hand, waved a reluctant farewell and seen him echo the gesture. And then she had left the docks to escort Malta, Reyn and their child to what comforts she could offer them.