Dragon Keeper

by Robin Hobb

  “And here we are,” he said genially.

  A moment later, the man landed with a thud beside them. He glanced at the trunks that Skelly was lashing down with the other deck cargo. “Here, we’ll be needing those brought to our cabins,” he exclaimed.

  “No private cabins on the Tarman, I’m afraid. ’Course, I’ll be happy to give up my stateroom to the lady for the trip to Cassarick. You and me will have to bunk with the crew in the deckhouse. Not roomy, but as it’s only for a couple of days, I’m sure we can manage.”

  The Sedric fellow looked absolutely panic-stricken now. “Alise, please reconsider!” he begged her.

  “Cast off and let’s get under way!” Leftrin told Hennesey.

  As the crew scrambled to the mate’s commands, Grigsby the ship’s cat decided to make an appearance. He sauntered up to the woman, sniffed the hem of her dress boldly, and then abruptly stood up on his hind legs and rested his orange paws on her skirts. “Mrow?” he suggested.

  “Get down!” Sedric snapped at the cat.

  But Leftrin was unreasonably pleased when the woman crouched down to accept the cat’s introduction. Her skirts folded onto the deck around her like a blossom collapsing. She put a hand out to Grigsby, who sniffed it and then bumped his striped head against it. “Oh, he’s so sweet!” she exclaimed.

  “And so are his fleas,” the man muttered in quiet dismay.

  But the woman only laughed softly, a quiet chuckle that reminded Leftrin of river water purring past the bow of his ship.

  NIGHT HAD FALLEN. The dismal meal eaten on a battered wooden table from tin plates was thankfully over. Sedric sat on the edge of a narrow bunk in the deckhouse and pondered his fate. He was miserable. Miserable but determined.

  The deckhouse was exactly as it was named, a low structure built on the deck to house the men. It had three chambers, if one wanted to dignify them with such a word. One was the captain’s stateroom, where Alise was now ensconced. The next was the galley, with a woodstove and a cramped table with benches to either side of it. And the third room was this, the crew’s quarters. A curtain across the end of it granted some privacy to Swarge and his sturdy wife, Bellin, in the larger bunk they shared there. That was a small mercy, Sedric thought.

  He’d avoided his bunk as long as he could, remaining out on the deck with Alise to watch yet more forested bank slip by. The barge moved smoothly and made surprisingly fast time going up the river against the current. The crew who pushed it along made the labor seem effortless. Big Eider and Skelly, Bellin and Hennesey used the stout poles that propelled the barge up the river while Swarge commanded the tiller. The barge moved up the river steadily, avoiding shoals and snags as if bewitched. It was an impressive display of seamanship, and Alise was duly awed by it. Although Sedric could appreciate their skill, he tired of watching and commenting on it long before she did. He left her to her enthusiastic conversation with the barge’s grubby captain and wandered aft, searching in vain for a quiet place to rest. He ended up perched on one of his own trunks, shaded somewhat by the wardrobe lashed down next to it. The crew offered no promise of intelligent conversation. One of the deckhands, Eider, was the size of a wardrobe. There was a woman, Bellin, almost as muscled as her husband, Swarge. Hennesey the mate had no time to chat with passengers, for which Sedric was grateful. Skelly shocked him by both her youth and her gender; what sort of a ship expected a young girl to do the full work of a deckhand? After one visit to the smelly deckhouse, he’d given up all thought of taking an afternoon nap to make the endless journey pass more swiftly. As well to nap in a kennel.

  But now it was night, and insects swarmed. They’d driven him inside, and weariness had forced him to his bunk. Around him in the thick darkness, the crew slept. Swarge and his wife had retired to their curtained alcove. Skelly and the cat shared a bed, the girl curled around the orange monster. Skelly was the captain’s niece; the poor girl was his most likely heir and thus had to learn the trade from the deck up. Hennesey the mate sprawled and overflowed his bunk, one muscular arm draped over the side with his hand braced on the deck. The atmosphere seemed thick with the crew’s sweat and the moist snores and occasional grunts they gave off as they shifted in their beds.

  There had been four unoccupied bunks for him to choose from; evidently Leftrin had once had a much larger crew on his ship. Sedric had chosen a lower bunk, and Skelly had not been too prickly about removing all the clutter from it so he could use it. She’d even tossed two blankets onto it for him. The bunks were narrow and cramped. He sat on the edge of his and tried not to think of fleas or lice or larger vermin. The neatly folded blanket on it had looked clean enough but he’d only seen it by lamplight. Through the sounds of the sleeping crew, he could hear the purling of the water outside. The river, so gray and wet and acid, seemed closer and more threatening than it had when he was on the tall and stately liveship. The barge sat lower and closer to the water. The ripe green smell of the water and the surrounding jungly forest penetrated the room.

  When night fell and darkness flowed like a second river over the water, the crew had poled the barge to the river shallows and then tied it to the trees there. The ropes they had used were thick and heavy, and surely the knots were secure. But the river wanted the barge, and it sucked at it greedily, making the vessel sway gently and tug creakily against the ropes that bound it. Now and then the barge gave an awkward lurch, as if it had dug in its heels and refused to be dragged out into the current. He wondered what would happen if the knots gave way. There was, he reminded himself, a man on watch; Big Eider would stay up half the night, keeping an eye on things before rousing Hennesey to take his turn. And the captain himself had been up on the deck, still smoking his pipe, when Sedric had finally decided that he would have to give in and sleep in the noisome deckhouse. He had briefly entertained the notion of sleeping out on the open deck; the night was mild enough. But then the stinging gnats had begun to hover and hum, and he had hastened to come inside.

  He took off his boots and set them by the edge of the bunk. He folded his jacket and set it reluctantly across the foot of his bed. Then, still clothed, he lay back on top of the thin mattress and blanket. The pillow seemed little more than a larger lump on the bed. It smelled strongly of whoever had last slept in this bunk. He sat up, retrieved his jacket, and put it under his head. “Only for two days,” he whispered to himself. He could stand this for two days, couldn’t he? Then the barge would dock in Cassarick, they’d disembark, and Alise would, he was confident, find a way to be allowed to study her dragons. And he’d be there, cloaked with her credentials and awaiting his opportunities. They’d stay no longer than six days, ample time as he had already pointed out to her. And then they’d return to Trehaug, board the Paragon, and head back to Bingtown. And his new future.

  Home. He missed it badly. Clean sheets and large airy rooms and well-cooked food and freshly laundered clothes. Was that so much to ask of life? Just that things be clean and pleasant? That one’s table-mates didn’t chew with open mouths, or allow cats to hook bits of meat off the platter? “I just like things to be nice,” he said plaintively to the darkness. And then winced at the memory the words conjured.

  He recalled it so clearly. He’d squared his shoulders, swallowed hard, and stood his ground. “I don’t want to go.”

  “It will make a man of you!” his father had insisted. “And it’s a big opportunity for you, Sedric. It’s a chance not just to prove yourself, but to prove yourself to a man who can advance you in Bingtown. I’ve pulled a few strings to get you this opportunity; half the lads in Bingtown would be willing to jump through hoops to get it. Trader Marley has an opening for a deckhand on his new ship. You won’t be alone; there will be other lads of your age living aboard and learning how to work the decks. The friends you’ll make there will be friends you keep for life! Work hard, bring yourself to the captain’s attention, and it could lead to bigger things for you. Trader Marley’s a wealthy man, in daughters as well as ships and money
. If he comes to look favorably on you, well, there’s no telling what future it might bring you.”

  “Tracia Marley’s a very pretty girl,” his mother added helpfully.

  He had felt trapped between the hopeful gazes of both his parents. His numerous sisters had already finished their tea and hurried away from the table. They’d be off to the gardens or the music room or visiting their friends. Yet here he sat, hedged in by his parents’ dreams for him. Dreams he couldn’t share.

  “But I don’t want to work on a boat,” he said carefully. As his father’s mouth narrowed and his eyes darkened, he added hastily, “I don’t mind working. Really, that’s true. But why can’t it be in a shop or an office? Somewhere clean and light, with pleasant people.” He turned his gaze on his mother and added quickly, “I hate the thought of being away from my family for so long. Ships are gone from Bingtown for months, sometimes years. How could I stand not seeing you for that long?”

  His mother pursed her mouth, and her eyes grew moist. Such words might win her over. But his father was not impressed. “It’s time you were out on your own for a bit, son. Schooling is fine, and I’m proud to have a son who can read and write and figure accurately. If our fortune had fared better these last few years, perhaps that would be enough. But our holdings haven’t prospered, so it’s time for you to go out and find something of your own, something to bring back and add to your inheritance. If you work out on the ship, you’ll be earning a decent wage. You can set something aside for yourself. This is an opportunity for you, Sedric, one that almost any boy in town would jump at.”

  He’d gathered his threads of courage. “Father, it just doesn’t fit with who I am. I’m sorry. I know that you asked favors to get this opportunity for me. I wish you’d talked to me first. I’ve been on ships and I’ve seen how the crews live aboard. It’s dirty, smelly, and wet, with boring food, and half your fellows are coarse, illiterate boors. Deck work demands a strong back and tough hands and little more than that. That’s not who I want to be, a barefoot sailor pulling on a line on someone else’s ship! I do want a future, and I’m willing to work hard. But not like that! I’ll work somewhere clean and decent, among nice people. I just like things to be nice. Is that so wrong of me?”

  His father leaned back abruptly in his chair. “I don’t understand you,” he said harshly. “I don’t understand you at all. Do you know what it’s taken for me to get this offer for you? Do you know how embarrassed I’ll be if you turn it down? Can’t you appreciate anything I do for you? This is your golden chance, Sedric! And you’re going to turn it down because you ‘like things to be nice!’ ”

  “Please don’t shout,” his mother unwisely interjected. “Please, Polon, can’t we be calm and polite about this?”

  “And ‘nice’ too, I suppose!” his father had snarled. “I give up. I’ve tried to do my best by the boy, but all he wants to do is wander about the house and read books or go out with his useless idle friends. Well, their fathers have the money to raise useless idle boys, but I don’t! You’re my heir, Sedric, but what you’ll inherit if you don’t take hold soon, I don’t know. Don’t look at the floor! Meet my eyes, son, when I speak to you!”

  “Please, Polon!” his mother had begged. “Sedric just isn’t ready for this yet. He’s right, you know. You should have discussed this with him before you sought it for him. You didn’t even speak of it to me!”

  “Because opportunities such as this don’t wait! They come along, and the man who seizes it is the man who finds a future in it. But it won’t be Sedric, will it? Oh, no. Because he’s not ready, and it’s not ‘nice’ enough for him. So, very well. You keep him at home here with you. You’ve ruined the boy with your indulgence of him. Ruined him!”

  Sedric shifted in the narrow bunk, pushing the uncomfortable memory away. It came back in the form of a new question. Did his father still think he was “ruined”? He knew that his sire had felt chagrin when Sedric announced he had taken a position as Hest Finbok’s secretary. Even his mother, far more patient and tolerant of Sedric’s ways than his father was, had winced at the idea of him being employed in such a position. “It’s just not something that you expect the son of a Trader to do, even a younger son. I know that it’s an upward path, and even your father has said that perhaps you’ll make good connections accompanying Hest on his trading trips. But, don’t you know, it just seems as if you could have started your career a bit higher in life than as a secretary.”

  “Hest treats me well, Mother. And he pays me well, too.”

  “And I hope you are setting money aside from it. For as handsome as Hest Finbok is and as wealthy as his family is, he has a reputation for being fickle in his pursuits. Don’t count on him to be someone you can depend on for the rest of your life, Sedric.”

  In the dark of the deckhouse, he groaned softly as he recalled her words. At the time they had seemed like her usual nattering worry for him. Now they seemed like a prophecy. Had he been a fool to let himself depend on Hest so deeply? His hand crept up and touched the small locket he wore around his neck. In the darkness, his finger caressed the single word engraved on its case. ALWAYS. Had “always” come to an end for him?

  He shifted in his bunk, but it was uniformly hard. Sleep would not come to him, only memories and worries. He was being foolish, of course. This was only a minor tiff with Hest. He and Hest had had quarrels before and lived to laugh about them later. There had been that business in the Chalcedean town, where Hest, in a towering rage, had left Sedric behind at the inn and Sedric had had to dash through the streets to reach the ship before it sailed. He’d only ever struck Sedric once, and to be fair, Hest had been drinking and in a black temper even before they had quarreled. Hitting someone was unusual behavior for Hest. He had other ways of expressing his domination and control. Sarcasm and humiliation were more commonly his weapons. Physical force was his last resort, and it meant that his temper had reached a red hot heat.

  But his current anger was different. It was cold. In the days after he’d ordered Sedric to accompany Alise on her expedition, Hest had been formal and chill with Sedric. He’d smiled at him each morning as he handed him a long list of tasks. He treated him in an absolutely correct, master-to-servant fashion. Every evening, he listened to Sedric report how his tasks had gone. He didn’t seem to care that he’d given Sedric the responsibility for Alise’s journey. He’d expected him to fulfill his regular chores as well.

  Thus Sedric had been the one to arrange passage for Hest and Wollom Courser and Jaff Secudus on a ship bound for the Pirate Isles. At the last minute, with great deliberation and a cruel smile, he’d had Sedric write an invitation to Redding Cope as well. The joyous acceptance had arrived less than an hour after the post was sent. Hest had had Sedric read it aloud to him, and then had pleasantly commented how enjoyable a companion Redding Cope was, so affable and full of enthusiasm for any new adventure.

  The next afternoon, they had departed. Cope had waved a cheerful farewell to Sedric as the ship slowly moved away from the dock. This was Hest’s first venture at making trading contacts in the formerly dangerous Pirate Isles. It was also a journey that he and Sedric had been discussing for nearly a year. Hest well knew how Sedric had anticipated such a trip. And he’d not only chosen other companions for it, he’d also directed Sedric to book his passage on a ship that offered its passengers every comfort that a civilized man could cherish. While Sedric listened to men snore and fart in the darkness around him, Hest and his friends were probably sipping good port in a softly lit card parlor on the southbound ship. Sedric shifted uncomfortably and scratched the back of his neck. Then he worried that the tickling had been a bedbug. Or a louse. He felt his neck, but his fingers encountered nothing. Then he surprised himself by yawning.

  Well, he was exhausted. Alise had seen to that. He’d packed all their possessions hastily, arranged porters, and then they had all but run from the Paragon to the Tarman. He’d barely glimpsed the fabled treetop city of Trehaug, let alo
ne had time to wander through any of its bazaars. Trehaug was the prime city in all the Cursed Shores for a Trader to find Elderling goods at a reasonable price, and he’d had to race past it without even a glance because Alise feared she wouldn’t get to see her smelly, deformed dragons.

  He yawned again in the darkness and resolutely closed his eyes. He would get what sleep he could in such foul conditions, and try to face the morrow with good graces. If all went well, he’d be with Alise when she wangled an invitation to visit the dragons and attempted to speak with them. She’d as much as said that she’d want him with her, to transcribe conversations and make notes and even to help with the sketches she planned to do. He’d be right there, among them, helping her collect her information. If fortune favored him, that wouldn’t be all he’d be collecting. He hugged himself in the dark, and then gingerly pulled the blanket over himself. Nights were chill on the river, he decided, even in summer. Nights were as cold as Hest himself. But he’d show Hest. He’d show him that he didn’t plan to live his life as only Hest’s secretary. He’d show him that Sedric Meldar could do some bartering of his own, that he did have ambitions and dreams of his own. He’d show them all.

  THYMARA SAT ON bare earth and stared at the flames of the cook fire. “Did any of us think we’d be doing this, a month ago? Preparing to meet dragons and escort them up the river? Or even imagine this, sitting around a fire down here on the ground?” she asked of her new circle of friends.

  “Not me,” muttered Tats, always at her side. Several of the others laughed in assent. Greft, seated to her right, just shook his head. His dark ringlets danced, as did the fleshy growths that fringed his jaw. When he had first joined their group, he’d been veiled. No one had commented. It wasn’t uncommon for heavily touched men or women of the Rain Wilds to prefer a veil, especially if they were in the lower levels of Trehaug and might encounter the shocked gapes of someone strange to the city. When, on his second night with the dragon keepers, he’d finally appeared among them unveiled, even Thymara had stared. Greft was more heavily marked than anyone she’d ever seen. In his midtwenties, he had more wattles and growths than she’d seen even on the oldest folk of the Rain Wilds. The nails of his hands and feet were smooth but iridescent, and they curved like claws. His eyes were an unnatural blue and at night they unmistakably glowed. Every part of his exposed skin was heavily scaled. His mouth was nearly lipless and his tongue was blue. He moved with quiet competence, and his maturity and steadiness were attractive to her. In contrast to the boys in the group, he seemed reliable and more thoughtful.