by Robin Hobb
Here in Cassarick as in Trehaug, the majority of the Rain Wilders went unveiled. This was their city and if folk who visited here did not respect them, such folk were swiftly encouraged to leave. She had tried not to stare at the workmen who had passed them earlier. The backs of their hands and their elbows had been heavily scaled, and the scales had not been flesh colored, but blue or green or shocking scarlet. One man had been completely hairless, scales like fine mail over his bared scalp and outlining his brow and replacing his lips. Another had sported a heavy fringe of fleshy growths along his jaw and some that overshadowed his eyes, thick and floppy like the comb of a rooster. She had averted her eyes from them, grateful that keeping her balance on the galloping bridge demanded all her attention.
But now she was on a solid platform and it was difficult to know where to put her gaze. This early in the day, there were not many folk about but all were unmistakably marked as Rain Wilders. Many cast curious glances her way, and she desperately told herself that it was her attire, so different from what they wore, that drew their eyes. The men had been wearing almost a uniform of heavy blue cotton shirts, thick brown canvas trousers, and loose canvas jackets. The boots they wore were heavy things, still clotted with dried mud from their previous day’s work. They’d carried their lunches in canvas sacks. Thick gloves and woolen hats protruded from their trouser pockets. “Diggers,” Leftrin had told her as they passed. “Headed off for a long day’s work underground. Cold down there, and damp, winter or summer.”
Now, as they passed a woman clad in soft leather trousers and a leather vest tufted with fur, Leftrin said, “She’s a climber. See how she goes barefoot for a better grip. She’ll be headed up into the canopy today, to gather fruit or hunt birds.”
Just as she nearly decided that the women of Cassarick led hard, lean lives, two chattering girls passed them going the other direction. They wore morning dresses and were perhaps going off to call on a friend or to visit the early markets. Their flounced skirts were shorter than those currently worn in Bingtown and showed off their soft brown shoes. They wore lacy little shawls, and their hats were designed to look like large, softly folded leaves. She turned her head to look after them, and for a moment a familiar envy flooded up to drown her spirits. They looked so cheery and busy, chattering away together. When they came to a bridge, they linked arms and clattered across it together, whooping like hoydens when they reached the other side.
“What makes you sigh?” Leftrin asked her, and she realized that she was staring after them.
She shook her head, smiling tightly at her own foolishness. “I was just thinking that somehow I skipped being that age, and I’ll always regret it. I often feel that I went from being a girl to being a settled woman, with none of that giddiness in between.”
“You talk like you’re an old woman, with your whole life lived.”
A sudden lump rose in her throat. I am, she thought. In a few days, I’ll go home and settle down to what I’ll be the rest of my life. No adventures ahead, no changes to anticipate. Nothing to anticipate except leading a proper life. She swallowed and by the time she could speak, she had more appropriate words. “Well, I’m a married woman with a settled life. I suppose what I miss is a sense of uncertainty. Of possibility waiting just around the corner.”
“And you’re saying you never had that?”
She paused because the truth was somehow humiliating. “No. I don’t think I did. I think my life was more or less mapped out from the beginning. Getting married was a surprise for me. I didn’t think I’d ever marry. But once I was a married woman, my life settled into a routine that wasn’t much different from when I was single.”
He was silent for longer than was his wont, and when she glanced over at him, his mouth was strangely puckered as if he strove to keep words in. “Just say it,” she suggested, and then wondered if she was brave enough to hear whatever judgment he held back.
He grinned at her. “Well, it’s not polite to say, but if I were a man and married to a woman such as you, and she said to another fellow that her life as my wife wasn’t much different from her life when she’d been single, well, I’d wonder what I was doing wrong.” He raised his eyebrows at her and whispered in a ribald tone, “Or not doing at all!”
“Captain Leftrin!” she exclaimed, genuinely shocked. Then, when he burst out laughing, she was horrified at joining in.
When they both paused for breath, he held up a warning hand. “No. Don’t tell me! Some things a wife should never say about her husband! And here we are, anyway, so our time for chat is over.”
They had reached the doors of the Traders’ Hall. Each tall door was a single slab of black wood, twice as tall as a man. Leftrin pushed on one and it swung silently open.
The hall had no windows. There was an antechamber, lit with a single branch of candles that smelled like orange blossom. Leftrin didn’t pause as he crossed the carpeted floor and went through yet another set of tall doors. Alise followed him and found herself in a circular chamber. Tiers of descending benches circled a wide dais. On the dais was a long table of pale wood, with a dozen heavy chairs behind it. Only half of them were currently occupied. Suspended globes that looked like balls of yellow glass cast a golden light throughout the room. The scattered lights bent the shadows in the room in odd ways. The walls of the room were hung with tapestries. They were either of Elderling origin or very clever imitations. Her eyes snagged on them, and she longed to beg for time to study every aspect of them.
But their abrupt entry had caused a stir among the six Rain Wilders seated at the table. Despite the early hour, they were formally dressed in their Trader robes. Each robe was of a different color and design to indicate which of the original settlement families the Trader represented. Alise did not recognize any of them. The Trader families of Bingtown were different from those of the Rain Wilds, even though there had been substantial intermarriage for years. Close to the center of the seating a woman with a lined face and a stiff gray brush of hair glared at them. “This is a private committee meeting,” she announced. “If you are here on Trader business, you will have to make an appointment and come back later.”
“I believe we were invited to this meeting,” Leftrin responded. His use of “we” was not lost on Alise and her heart leaped. He would do whatever he could to keep her here and privy to what was happening with the dragons. “I’m Captain Leftrin of the scow Tarman. When I docked late last night, I was invited to call here ‘as early as possible’ this morning. To discuss moving some dragons upriver, I believe. But if I’m wrong—”
He let the word hang and the woman’s hands fluttered up in a gesture dismissing her previous protest. But before she could speak, the door behind Alise and Leftrin shut with an audible and angry thump. Alise turned, startled, and gasped in surprise. An Elderling woman, gowned all in silver and blue, stood there. Her eyes gleamed metallic in the golden light and her face looked like anger cast in stone. “This is not a legitimate meeting, Captain Leftrin. As you can see, there are not enough members of the committee seated to authorize any action.”
“On the contrary, Malta Khuprus.” The woman who had spoken earlier held up a sheaf of paper. “I have letters of authorization to act on the behalf of two members who are too occupied with business to attend today’s meeting. I can cast their votes as I see fit. And if all of us here vote the same way, then we are a majority, with or without the others voting.”
“But you do not, I’ll wager, have such a letter from my brother, Selden Vestrit. And, Trader Polsk, as he represents the interests of the dragon Tintaglia, I do not see how you can make any sort of a binding vote without his presence.”
“He is only one vote. Whether he agreed with us or not, his vote would not change the outcome.”
“He represents Tintaglia’s concerns. He speaks for the dragons. How can you finalize decisions about their fate without consulting him? The simple fact is that you cannot!”
The Elderling woman strode past
them as she talked. Alise tried not to stare but could not help it. Everyone knew the story of Malta Vestrit. She had been involved with a failed kidnapping plot against the Satrap of Jamaillia. With him, she had been captured by pirates and ultimately she had been one of the forces to help forge a peace between Jamaillia and the Pirate Kingdom. But that was not what everyone remembered about her. She had been in close contact with the dragon Tintaglia just before she hatched from her case. Some said that was what had precipitated her change from ordinary Bingtown Trader girl to a woman who was obviously changing into an Elderling. Others said it had been a gift from the dragon. Both her fiancé and her brother had been affected as well, and they, too, had been present at the hatching of the dragon. All of them showed similar changes.
“We attempted to include Selden Vestrit in this meeting, but he is not here nor in Trehaug. And we have been told that we cannot expect his return for at least four months. By then, we will be venturing toward foul weather, and another long, wet winter with dragons churning the grounds around Cassarick into a quagmire. We have to act now. We cannot delay any longer simply to hear the opinion of a single member of the committee.”
“You are acting now purely because he is away from the Rain Wilds and unable to intervene on Tintaglia’s behalf.”
The gray-haired woman at the table looked beleaguered. Several of her fellows looked uncomfortable, but one at least expressed his annoyance by marching his fingers on the table’s edge. A young man with a flash of orange scales on his high cheekbones was obviously angry. He gritted his teeth as if to cage furious words. The head of the committee spoke. “You were with us when we went to speak to the dragons. You heard that they understood what we were proposing. You know that the largest dragon, the black one, agreed to our proposal to move them all to a better place. We even acceded to his demands for extra hunters to accompany the herd. Those hunters will be arriving anytime now, and they will expect to leave immediately. Our meeting this morning is, in fact, to assure that we can meet the dragons’ expectations. Captain Leftrin, we summoned you here in the hopes of securing you and your barge to escort the dragons and their hunters up the river.”
Alise had to admire how deftly the woman had shifted her conversation from Malta to Leftrin. She was still trying to understand how it all fit together. The dragons were to be moved from Cassarick? Hunters would accompany them? And possibly Captain Leftrin’s barge?
“This is very short notice,” Captain Leftrin replied. He took a deep breath, and when he spoke, his words were slow and carefully considered. “Almost impossibly short notice. I need to know exactly what I’m agreeing to before I can give you any sort of an answer.”
Alise heard the speculation behind his reserved words. Malta’s tirade had revealed to him that he had the Council of Cassarick over a barrel. They had admitted that they had to act swiftly. If what Leftrin had told her about his ship was true, then his barge was the only vessel of any size that could accompany the dragons upriver. They’d have to pay him whatever he asked, or lose their window of opportunity. It was clear to Alise that they wished to have the dragons under way before either winter or Selden Vestrit returned.
The Council woman looked trapped as her eyes darted from Leftrin to Malta. “We do have an offer to make you, Captain Leftrin. We wish to negotiate a charter with you. We’d like to hire your vessel as an escort ship for the dragons and their keepers. The Tarman would carry extra provisions for both the keepers and the dragons, and be transport and housing for our hunters. It would be the mother ship that the keepers’ smaller boats could tie up to at night, if needed. One of the hunters we have chosen to accompany you is an experienced explorer. In addition to providing meat for the dragons, he will construct a chart of the river and keep a journal of any noteworthy events. He will also represent the Council and is authorized to decide when the dragons have been appropriately settled. When he reaches that decision, he will let you know, and at that point you will turn back toward Cassarick.”
Malta interrupted with a sharp question, “If the keepers’ boats need to tie up at night to a floating vessel, then where are the dragons at that time, I’d like to know, Trader Polsk?”
The woman shook her head. “The need for a mother ship is a hypothetical need, Malta. We are simply making arrangements for every contingency.”
“And the Council representative? Why is one necessary? Will not the dragons know when they are ‘appropriately settled’ and release their keepers from ser vice?”
A strange light had come into the Elderling woman’s eyes. They glowed, Alise realized. The set of her mouth proclaimed her anger, but there were other signs of it as well. The shimmering gold orbs that lit the room slowly began to shift their positions. Whatever had anchored them before gave way as the balls of light began to slowly but purposefully drift toward Malta. One Council member gave a brief huff of uneasiness, but the others kept stony faces of indifference.
The chairwoman tried to speak calmly. “The dragons may not realize when we have reached a point where we have done all we can for them. This is sad, but true. So we have arranged for someone to accompany the dragons and provide an impartial evaluation.”
Malta spoke. “Impartial? A Council representative who is ‘impartial’? Perhaps a representative for the dragons should be assigned also, to see that the dragons are fairly treated and that our contract is observed. Have you considered arranging to keep your word to the dragon Tintaglia? As per the signed contract we made?” The floating orbs ringed her now, leaving most of the rest of the room in dimness. The light from them glittered and ran over her scaled face and gleaming arms. She shone like a jeweled statue. Her eyes were as hard as faceted gems.
“Has she?” Trader Polsk hissed back at the Elderling. “Tintaglia has vanished and left us with a horde of hungry dragons to care for! What would you have us do? Keep them here on the very doorstep of Cassarick? It is not good for them or for us! Keeping them here will solve nothing. But there is the possibility that if we send them upriver, they may find a better location for themselves. Look how many of them have already died, and those who remain are in poor condition. Now is not the time to flaunt your powers to make us cower. You would better use your time to help us plan the best way to aid them in their evacuation. It is the best we can offer them, Malta. Surely you must see that!”
“I see nothing of the kind,” Malta retorted in a low voice, but there was a tattered edge of defeat to it. “I see that there is something here I do not know, something that propels the urgency of this expedition. Do any of you see fit to be honest with me?” The lights around her dimmed, very slightly.
Trader Polsk ignored her words and pushed her advantage. “Have you heard from either your brother or the dragon Tintaglia?”
“My brother is traveling, and all know how irregular the mails are from abroad. And I have not heard Tintaglia nor felt her touch in months. I do not know what her fate is. She could simply be far afield, or some terrible accident may have befallen her. I do not know.” She sounded anguished. But her voice firmed as she went on, “But I do know that many Bingtown Traders gave their word to her that they would do all they could to help her offspring in return for her aid. Without her actions during our war with Chalced, Bingtown itself might have perished. She kept the Chalcedean ships from the mouth of the Rain Wild River. When we most needed her help, she was there for us. And now that she is away, will we abandon the young dragons to death, simply because caring for them has become a hardship? Has the word of a Trader come to mean so little to us in these kinder days?” As she spoke, the light globes that surrounded her burned warmer. Light reflected from her, until she seemed the source of it rather than the recipient.
A silence, perhaps one of shame, followed her question. A few of the Council members exchanged glances.
Alise timidly broke the silence. “I was there. I was there the night the dragon came to the Bingtown Traders’ Concourse. I was there the night the deal was struck. I heard Tint
aglia speak, and young as I was, I was among those who signed our agreement with her.” Her voice dropped as she added, “I was even there when Reyn Khuprus spoke out and demanded that Tintaglia help him find Malta, as a condition of that agreement.” Her glance went from the startled Elderling to the Council. She drew herself up straight and summoned courage she didn’t know she had. She lifted her voice, willing it to fill the hall. “My name is Alise Kincarron Finbok. In addition to signing the agreement with the dragon Tintaglia, and thus having a vested interest in these decisions, I am one of the foremost experts on both dragons and Elderlings that Bingtown has to offer. I have traveled here from Bingtown for the express purpose of speaking with the dragons and learning more of their kind.
“Since Tintaglia first appeared in our midst, I have devoted all my time to the studying and translation of every scroll or tablet regarding dragons and Elderlings that exist in Bingtown. When you speak of breaking an agreement with a dragon who had given you her true name as her binding word on it, I do not think you fully comprehend what you are suggesting. As Bingtown’s most knowledgeable authority on dragons, I do.”
