Blood of Dragons - Страница 62

К оглавлению

62

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!


CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Expectations

‘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.

‘If he tries to touch you, I’ll kill him,’ he promised her heartily.

‘No, please,’ she gasped. ‘No scenes, not in public. Not like this.’ Most of the keepers guessed or knew that she had left a husband behind in Bingtown. Only a few knew how he had deceived her and hurt her, and even fewer knew the extent of Sedric’s role in it. She and Sedric had protected one another, leaving those griefs and deceptions behind as they both built new lives in Kelsingra. But now Hest had come to tar them with shame, and everyone here would change their opinions of her. She had come among them as the dragon expert, the learned woman who had helped them believe in the existence of Kelsingra. They had seen her as a bit eccentric, but most of them admired her for her toughness and resourcefulness. She had survived Rapskal’s thoughtless comment that she was not one of them, proving that even if she was not an Elderling, she was still essential to the colony.

Hest would take all that from her now, revealing her as a foolish woman who had been mastered by a man who cared nothing for her. All would know her past shame, and she would have to carry it forward into the future.

The thoughts flashed through her mind like a bolt of lightning that burned an image into her eyes. Without thinking, she turned her gaze to Sedric. His face was as white as hers. He had taken two steps out of Carson’s sheltering arm to stare in disbelief at what fate had washed up on their shores. The hunter’s face had gone still and stoic, as if he waited in the eye of a storm for the cold winds and rain to return. But Hest’s charade of affection was for her alone.

‘Alise, my dearest one, don’t you know me? I know, hardship has changed both of us, but it’s me, your husband, Hest Finbok. You’ll be safe now. I’ve come to take you home.’

The entire procession had halted to watch their interchange. Prisoners were exchanging confused looks. The keepers were parting to open a way between Alise and the man who had called her name. Hest moved toward her confidently, advancing from the gaggle of prisoners to walk through the ranks of the stunned keepers and up to Alise. They watched him curiously as he passed. He was, Alise thought, as dapper as ever. If he had endured hardship, it showed only in that he was leaner than she recalled him and perhaps a bit more muscled. The skin of his face was weathered, but it only made him more handsome. His fine black boots were scuffed, his tailored trousers a bit worn, as was the ruffled shirt he wore, but as always, the cut and colours of his clothing drew every eye to him. He pushed back his cloak from his shoulders. The wind stirred his dark hair and a smile lit his face and eyes as he advanced on her, his arms open as if to embrace her.

‘Who is that?’ Davvie demanded in awe. He looked dazzled.

62