Dragon Keeper Free Edition with Bonus Material

by Robin Hobb

  Tonight Greft was just as quiet as the rest of them. Anticipation warred with nervousness. Another day’s travel and they’d finally meet the dragons.

  The committee had provided them with sturdy canoes, well sealed against the river’s acid wash. They’d given them two guides, a man and a woman who always cooked, ate, and slept separately from their charges. So far, food had been provided for them, and some of the keepers had even found time to try their skills at hunting or scouting for fruit and mushrooms along their journey’s path. But they had discovered that their blankets were barely warm enough for sleeping on the ground, and that the mosquitoes and stinging gnats were just as thick at river level as they’d always been told. They’d learned that down here under the trees, nights were darker, starless, and longer than any they’d known in the treetops. They’d already learned to conserve potable water and to gather fresh rainfall at every opportunity. They’d exchanged names and stories.

  And somehow, in the few days that they’d been together, they’d become close.

  Now Thymara looked around at the circle of faces gleaming in the firelight and wondered at her good fortune. She’d never imagined that there would be so many people who would call her by her name, take food from her hands without flinching at her claws, and speak openly of what it was like to be so deformed by the Rain Wilds that not even one’s siblings could look at one easily. They’d come from every layer of the canopy, from Trader families and families that scarcely recalled which Trader bloodline they’d originally sprung from. Some had lived hardscrabble lives and others had known education and meals of red meat and redder wine. She looked from face to face and named them to herself, counting them off as if they were jewels in a treasure box. Her friends.

  There was Tats beside her, her oldest friend and still her closest. Next to him was Rapskal, still chortling at some joke he’d made, and beside him, shaking her head at the boy’s endless and unfounded optimism, was Sylve. The young girl almost seemed to be enjoying his attention and endless chatter. Kase and Boxter were next, both copper-eyed and squat. They were cousins and the resemblance was strong. They were inseparable, often nudging each other and laughing uproariously over private jokes.

  That was something she was discovering about the boys her age. The pranking and foolish jokes seemed constant. Right now, silver-eyed Alum and swarthy Nortel were laughing helplessly because Warken had farted loudly. Warken, long limbed and tall, seemed to be relishing the mockery rather than being offended by it. Thymara shook her head over that; it made no sense to her that boys found such things so funny, and yet their sniggering brought a smile to her face. Jerd, sitting among the boys, was grinning, too. Thymara did not know Jerd well yet but already admired her skills at fishing. She had at first been shocked when she realized Jerd was female. Nothing about her solidly built frame suggested it. What hair she had on her scaled skull she had cut into a short blond brush. Both Thymara and Sylve had tried to befriend Jerd, and she had been affable enough, but she seemed to prefer male company. Her feet and well-muscled legs were heavily scaled and scarred. Jerd went barefoot, something that few Rain Wilders would ever consider doing on the ground.

  Next to Jerd were Harrikin and Lecter. They were not related, but Harrikin’s family had taken Lecter in when he was seven and both his parents died. They were as close as brothers, yet the one was long and slim as a lizard while Lecter reminded Thymara of a horny toad, squat and neckless and spiny with growths. Harrikin was twenty, the oldest in their group, save for Greft. Greft was in his middle twenties. In bearing and manner, he made the rest of them seem like boys. And Greft, with his gleaming blue eyes, closed the circle of her friends. He saw her looking at him and canted his head questioningly. A smile stretched his thin mouth.

  “It’s strange to look around this circle and realize everyone here is my friend. I’ve never had friends before,” she said quietly.

  He ran his blue tongue around the edges of his mouth, and then leaned closer to her. “Honeymoon,” he warned her in his raspy voice.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Happens like this. I’ve worked as a hunter a lot. You go out with a group of fellows, and by the third day, every one of them is your friend. By the fifth day, things wear a bit thin. And by the seventh day, the group starts to fragment.” His eyes roamed over the fire-lit circle. Across from them, Jerd was in a friendly tussle with two of the boys. Warken appeared briefly to win it when he dragged her over to sit on his lap. But an instant later, she shot to her feet, shook her head at him mockingly, and resumed her place in the circle. Greft had narrowed his eyes, watching the rough play, and then said quietly, “Two or three weeks from now, you’ll probably hate as many as you love.”

  She pulled back a bit from him, his cynicism chilling her. He shrugged at her, sensing that he’d almost offended her. “Or maybe not. Maybe it’s just for me that things always seem to go that way. I’m not the easiest fellow to get along with.”

  She smiled at him. “You don’t seem hard to get along with.”

  “I’m not, for the right people,” he agreed with her. His smile said she was one of the right people. He extended a hand toward her, palm up, an invitation perhaps. “But I have my boundaries. I know what is mine, and I know that it’s my decision whether to share it or not. And there are some things that a man just doesn’t share. In a group like this, with so many youngsters, that’s going to seem harsh or selfish sometimes. But I think it’s only sensible. Now, if I’ve hunted and been successful, and I’ve got enough for myself and some left over, then I don’t mind sharing, and I think I’ve the right to expect the same of others. But you should know I’m not the sort that will short myself for the sake of being nice to someone else. For one thing, I’ve learned it’s seldom appreciated. For another, I know that my ability to hunt is based on my strength. If I weaken myself to be a nice fellow today, perhaps all of us will go hungry tomorrow if I’m too slow or distracted to kill my quarry. So I protect my own interests today, to be in a better position to help everyone tomorrow.”

  Tats leaned across her lap to speak to Greft. She hadn’t even realized he’d been listening to him. “So,” he asked conversationally, “how do you tell the difference between today and tomorrow?”

  “Beg pardon?” Greft said, sounding annoyed at the interruption. His affability evaporated.

  Tats didn’t move. He was practically lying in her lap. “How do you tell when it’s today and when it’s tomorrow, in terms of sharing what you have? At what point do you say to yourself, well, I didn’t share yesterday, so I was strong and hunted and got some meat today, so I can share this meat today. Or do you just keep thinking, I better eat it all myself so that I’ll be strong again tomorrow?”

  “I think you’re missing my point,” Greft said.

  “Am I? Explain it again, then.” There was challenge in Tats’s voice.

  Thymara gave Tats a small nudge to get him to move. He sat up, but somehow he was closer to her. His hip pressed hers now.

  “I’ll try to explain it to you.” Greft seemed amused. “But you may not understand. You’re a lot younger than I am, and I suspect you’ve lived by a different set of rules than we have.” He paused and glanced across the fire. Harrikin and Boxter had risen and were in a good-natured shoving match. Hands braced on each other’s shoulders, feet dug into the mud, each strained to push the other back. On the sidelines, the other keepers shouted encouragement to the combatants. Greft shook his head, seeming displeased with their lighthearted play. “Life seems different when you haven’t had to deal with people thinking that you don’t have the right to exist. When I was young, no one thought I was entitled to anything. I begged when I was small, and when I was a bit older, I fought for what I needed. And when I was old enough to provide for myself and perhaps do a bit better than that, some people assumed that they had the right to share in whatever I managed to bring down. They seemed to think I should be grateful that they allowed me anything at all, even to exist.
So unless you’ve lived under rules like that, I don’t think you can understand how we feel. I see this expedition as the chance to get away from the old rules and live where I can invent rules for myself.”

  “Is your first new rule to always take care of yourself first?”

  “It might be. But there, I told you that you probably couldn’t understand. Of course, to balance that, there’s something I don’t understand about you. Why don’t you explain to us why you’re going upriver? Why are you discarding your life in Trehaug to set out with a bunch of rejects and misfits like us?” Greft made his question seem almost friendly.

  Across the fire ring, Boxter triumphed. Harrikin crashed to the mud and then rolled away from him. “I give in!” he cried out, to a chorus of laughter. Both came back to take seats by the fire. The laughter died down, and quiet fell as everyone became aware of Tats and Greft staring at each other.

  When Tats spoke, his voice was deeper than usual. “Maybe I don’t see it that way. And maybe I didn’t have the favored life that you imagine I did. Maybe I do understand you wanting to get away from Trehaug to a place where you can change the rules to suit yourself. Maybe most of us here are thinking to do just that. But I don’t think the first rule I’ll make is ‘me first.’ ”

  A silence fell after Tats spoke, a silence that was bigger than the three of them. The fire crackled. Mosquitoes hummed in the darkness around them. The river rushed by as it always did, and somewhere off in the distance, a creature hooted shrilly and then was still. Thymara glanced around the circle and realized that most of the dragon keepers had focused on their conversation. She suddenly felt uncomfortable and trapped sitting between Greft and Tats, as if she represented territory to be won to one side or the other. She shifted her weight slightly away from Tats and felt cooler air touch her where his body had been against hers.

  Greft took a breath as if about to reply angrily. Then he sighed it slowly out. His voice was even, low, and pleasant as he said, “I was right. You don’t understand what I’m saying, because you haven’t been where I’ve been. Where we’ve all been.” His voice rose on those last words, including all of them in on what he was trying to say to Tats. He paused and smiled at him before adding, “You’re just not like us. So I don’t think you can really understand why we’re here. Any more than I can understand why you’re here.” He dropped his voice a notch, but his words still carried. “The Council was looking for Rain Wilders like us. The ones they’d like to be rid of. But I heard they also offered amnesty to certain others. Criminals, for example. I heard some people were offered a chance to leave Trehaug rather than face the consequences of what they had done.”

  Greft let his words hang in the night like the drifting smoke from the fire. When Tats said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” his words sounded unconvincing. “I just heard the money was good. And that they wanted people with no strong ties to Trehaug, people who could leave the city without leaving obligations behind. And that described me.”

  “Did it?” Greft asked politely.

  It was Tats’s turn to look around at the others watching him. Some were merely following the conversation, but several of them were now regarding him with a curiosity bordering on suspicion. “It did,” Tats said harshly. He stood suddenly. “It does. I’ve got no ties to bind me anywhere. And the money is good. I’ve as much a right to be here as any of you.” He turned away from them. “Gotta piss,” he muttered and stalked off into the surrounding darkness.

  Thymara sat still, feeling the empty space where he had sat. Something had just happened, something bigger than the verbal sparring between the two young men. She tried to put a name to it and couldn’t. He’s shifted the balance, she thought as she glanced over at Greft. He had leaned forward and was pushing the ends of the firewood into the flames. He’s made Tats an outsider. And spoken for all of us as if he had the right to do so. Abruptly, he seemed a bit less charming than he had a few moments ago.

  Greft settled back into his place in the circle. He smiled at her, but her face remained still. In the dancing firelight, other conversations were resuming as the keepers discussed their immediate concerns. They’d have to sleep soon if they were to get an early start tomorrow. Rapskal was already shaking out his blanket. Jerd stood suddenly. “I’m going for green branches. If the fire puts out enough smoke, it will keep some of the mosquitoes away.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Boxter offered, and Harrikin was already coming to his feet.

  “No. Thank you,” she replied. She strode off into the darkening forest in the same direction Tats had gone.

  Abruptly, Greft leaned close to Thymara. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset your beau like that. But someone had to tell him how it really is.”

  “He’s not my beau,” Thymara blurted out, shocked that Greft would think such a thing. Then she abruptly felt as if she had somehow betrayed Tats with that denial.

  But Greft was smiling at her. “He isn’t your beau, eh? Well, well. What a surprise.” Then, he raised one eyebrow at her and leaned closer to ask with a smirk, “Does he know that?”

  “Of course he does! He knows the laws. Girls like me can’t be courted or married. We aren’t allowed to have children. So there’s no sense in having beaus.”

  Greft looked at her steadily. His eyes, blue on glowing blue, suddenly softened with sympathy. “You’ve been so well schooled in their rules, haven’t you? That’s a shame.” He pressed his narrow lips together, shook his head, and gave a small sigh. For a time he watched the fire. Then when he looked back at her, his thin mouth stretched in a smile. He leaned closer to her, setting his hand on her thigh to speak right by her ear. His breath was warm on her ear and neck. It sent a shiver down her back. “Where we are going, we can make our own rules. Think about that.”

  Then, smooth as a snake uncoiling, he rose and left her looking into the flames.

  Day the 2nd of the Grain Moon

  Year the 6th of the Independent Alliance of Traders

  From Kim, Keeper of the Birds, Cassarick

  To Erek, Keeper of the Birds, Bingtown and Detozi, Keeper of the Birds, Trehaug

  Keeper Erek and Keeper Detozi,

  When this position was given to me I was told firmly that the messenger birds were to be used only for official Council business, although Traders may be allowed to pay for the use of them for private messages. It was emphasized to me that Keepers have no special status that allows them to send messages for free. This, it seems to me, would include appending personal messages to official communications. I have no desire to report you for violating these rules, but if evidence of personal correspondence reaches me again, as it did by chance this time, I shall report you to all three Councils, and I am certain you will be liable for the expenses of all the free messages you have sent.

  Respectfully,

  Keeper Kim

  Chapter Ten

  Cassarick

  By the time they reached the main dock at Cassarick it was almost too dark to see. Even the mosquitoes had given up for the night. The lanterns hung on each corner of the barge illuminated little more than the preoccupied faces of the polers as they endlessly plodded past her. There was a hypnotic quality to watching their circling dance on the deck. Alise still found it amazing how easy it was for them to propel the barge upstream. When she had spoken of it to Captain Leftrin, he had grinned and said something about a very sophisticated hull design.

  Alise had stayed out on the deck, well bundled against both the night chill and the insects that descended with darkness. The stars overhead had been distant and yet brilliant. Her first sight of the lights of the town had made her gasp in awe. Like Trehaug, the newer settlement of Cassarick was strung and strewn through the treetops above the river. The yellow lamplight shone from windows through a lacy network of branches. At first they looked like a scattering of stars caught in a net, but as the barge moved steadily closer, the lights grew larger and brighter.

  “Won’t be lo
ng now,” Captain Leftrin told her on one of his frequent visits to her perch. “Ordinarily, we’d have stopped for the night an hour ago. But I know how anxious you are to get here and meet your dragons, so I’ve pushed my crew a bit today. I’d hoped we would dock while it was still light, but no such luck for us. So I suggest that you spend another night with us here, and make an early start of it tomorrow.”

  Sedric had come out on deck and joined them. In the dark, neither of them had noticed his soundless approach, and they both jumped when he spoke. “I do not think we are that tired. I think a bit of extra effort to find an inn that offers hot baths, soft beds, and a gentle wine with a warm meal would be worth it.”

  “You won’t find any of that here,” Captain Leftrin warned him. “Cassarick’s a young settlement yet; most of the folk who work here live here, and visitors are few. There’s little call for an inn. Oh, if we’d arrived while the sun was in the sky, we might have found a family that would give you a room for the night. But after dark, well, chances are you’d just go from door to door and find nothing. You’d have to climb a lot of steps in the dark. Or use a basket hoist, if you could find one that was manned and you were willing to pay the fee.”