by Robin Hobb
To the left was an immense river with a wide, free-running channel down its center. It was obvious that it had recently been a flood channel. Damaged trees with dangling limbs and mud-daubed debris lined the shores of it. The color of the water was definitely lighter as it fed into the main channel and dispersed. Up that river was the source of both the torrent that had nearly killed them all and the acid that colored the waters of the Rain Wild River white. The river and the forest that bound it to either side ran off into an unimaginable distance. A bluish shadow against the sky at the far horizon might have been mountains, or her imagination. The dragons were silhouettes against that horizon as they made their way upriver.
As Thymara watched, a flock of birds with yellow-barred tails rose as one from the trees, fluttered for a distance, and then resettled. The angry yowl of a frustrated hunting cat followed them. She smiled. The lush and untouched vista attracted her. She suspected both hunting and gathering would be easier there. She wished they were staying here for the night. If they were, she’d explore in that direction. With no weapons or fishing gear of her own left, fruit and vegetables had been the best she could offer her fellows. She longed to borrow gear from Greft’s hoard, but he hadn’t offered it to anyone and she would not ask.
Thymara had found a spot along the bow railing to survey the divergence of the waters. Now she turned back to look at the company assembling on the forward deck to look over the side. Hennesey and Swarge were bringing out the spare poles and passing them out to the stronger keepers. Tats received his grinning. She suddenly suspected he’d always wanted the chance to try his hand with one.
For an instant, she saw them all as strangers. There were ten keepers instead of the dozen they’d begun with. All of them were more ragged and weathered than they had been. The boys had all grown, and most had the shape and muscles of men now. They moved differently than when she’d first met them; they moved like people who worked on water and land rather than as tree dwellers. Sylve, she realized, had grown and was acquiring the shape of a woman. Harrikin still was her shadow; they seemed content with each other’s company despite the disparity in their ages. Thymara had never mustered the courage to ask Sylve if she knew that Greft had arranged the match. Over the last few days, she’d decided it didn’t really matter. They seemed well suited to each other; what did it matter who had decreed it?
Jerd stood to one side, watching the activity. Her face was pale. Despite Jerd’s frequent patting of her belly and posturing, she was not showing much of her pregnancy yet, save in her temperament. She had become unpleasantly bitchy to everyone of late. She had near-constant morning sickness and complained of the way the boat smelled and the food tasted and of the constant motion. It would have been easier to be sympathetic to her, Thymara thought, if she were not so insistent that everyone else’s concerns should give way to her whining. If her pregnancy were typical of the state, Thymara wanted nothing to do with childbearing. Even Greft had begun to weary of Jerd’s constant nipping at him. Twice she had heard him reply to her roughly, and each time Jerd had been both furious and tearful. Once he had turned on her almost savagely, asking her if she thought she was the only one in pain from a changing body. Alum had stood up and Thymara had thought he would interfere. But before it came to that, Jerd had run off wailing, to cower in the galley and weep while Greft had sourly declared he’d rather face a gallator than “that girl” right now.
The crew of the ship had changed almost as much as the keepers had. Thymara had become more aware of both Skelly and Davvie as people. It was often obvious that they longed to socialize more with the keepers; they were, after all, of an age with most of them. Captain Leftrin had tried to keep those boundaries intact, but there had been some breaches. She knew that Alum was infatuated with Skelly, and that both had been rebuked for fraternizing. Davvie’s growing friendship with Lecter appeared to be tacitly ignored by all, which did not seem fair to her. But then, she thought with a wry grin, Captain Leftrin rarely consulted with her on what she thought about how he ran his ship.
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Alise had come out on the deck. She stood on the roof of the deckhouse with her sketchbook, capturing the moment. Thymara looked at her and scarcely recognized the fine Bingtown lady she had first seen at Cassarick. She had abandoned her wide-brimmed hats, and her smooth and gleaming hair was a thing of the past. The sun and wind had tanned her skin and multiplied her freckles. Her clothing showed plainly the hard use she had put it to. There were patches on the knees of her trousers, and the hems were frayed out. She wore the cuffs of her shirts rolled back now, and her hands and arms had browned in the sun. For all that, even during the days when she seemed quiet and sad, she seemed more alive and real than when Thymara had first met her. Her companion, Sedric, however, reminded Thymara of a bright bird in a molt. All his lovely colors and fine manners had dropped away from him. He said little to her anymore, but he cared for his new dragon with a clumsy sincerity that Thymara found touching. The little copper was blossoming under his care and had become something of a chatterbox when he was not around to occupy her. Her language and thoughts came clearer now, and cleansed of her parasites, she was growing as rapidly as her limited diet allowed.
She was not the only dragon who had changed since the big wave. The silver, Spit as he now called himself, was almost dangerous. Quick-tempered and fully venomed, he had already accidentally scalded Boxter. Boxter had not done anything to provoke him, except to be in the area when Spit became angry with one of the other dragons. Mercor had descended quickly, roaring at Spit. Luckily for Boxter, he had only received a drift rather than a direct spray of dragon venom. His arm was burned, but he’d torn his shirt off quickly enough that he’d avoided worse injury. Restraining his own dragon from going after Spit had demanded most of his effort. It was only later that the other keepers had treated and bound his arm for him. If he had not already been scaled, the damage would have been much greater.
Some of the dragons were discontented and weary of traveling, others as determined as when they had begun. Their attitudes to the journey varied as much as their attitudes toward their keepers. Some seemed to have grown very close to their keepers. Mercor and Sylve reminded Thymara of an old married couple. They knew each other well and were very content with each other’s company. She and Sintara had still not resolved their differences, and with every passing day, she wondered if they would. The dragon seemed angry with her, but she could not decide what the original basis for it was. Sintara still asserted the right to order her about, to command her to groom her or remove parasites from around her eyes. Thymara, true to her contract, cared for the dragon. Despite Sintara’s annoyance with her, she felt their bond had grown stronger; she was much more aware of the dragon’s needs, and when Sintara spoke to her, the meaning went far beyond words. Something stronger and deeper than affection bound them to each other. The linking was not always comfortable for either of them, but it was real. Why it existed was a conundrum. Alise still visited the dragon, but Sintara was even less attentive to her. Strange to say, Alise did not seem to take it to heart. Thymara sometimes wondered what had distracted her from the dragon, but most often took it to mean that Alise had realized, as she had, that she was simply not that important to the dragon.
Baliper was a lonely soul without Warken. The keepers took turns grooming him, but he spoke little to any of them and took small interest in any of the humans. Some of the other dragons seemed to understand his mourning; others seemed to find him weak because of it. Jerd’s Veras was not pleased with her keeper’s lack of attention to her and didn’t care who knew. Greft tended Kalo still, but in a perfunctory way, and Kalo had been in a period of black temper for almost a week. Something, Thymara felt, was brewing among the dragons, something they had not shared with their keepers. She dreaded what it might be. When she let her thoughts wander, she considered every possibility from the dragons simply abandoning them to the dragons turning on
them and eating them. By day, such imaginings seemed silly. Not so in the dead of night.
“You! Thymara! Think you’re decorative? There’s a pole left. Get on the end of it. ”
Hennesey’s order jarred her from her daydreaming. She felt a blush rise as she hurried forward to pick up the last available pole. Jerd still stood to one side, a hand on her belly. Sylve stood near her, arms folded, mouth set in disapproval. Obviously she had expected to be part of the pole crew despite her diminutive size.
Hennesey was still barking orders. “I don’t expect you to know what you’re doing, but I expect you to help. It’s pretty simple. Shove the pole down into the mud. When I yell, everyone pushes. It shouldn’t take much to get us off. Once we’re clear of the mud, bring your poles back on board without braining each other, and let the crew take over. Ready?”
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Thymara had found a place alongside Skelly. The deckhand grinned at her. “Don’t worry, sis. This ought to be easy. Then you can get back to those pots in the galley. ”
“Oh, yes, I’m longing to do that,” Thymara assured her, returning her grin. She looked at Skelly’s hands, copied her grip on the pole and her stance. The deckhand gave her an approving nod.
“Now push!” Hennesey shouted, and they all strained.
The boat rocked, shifted, rocked again as they grunted and strained.
And the Tarman settled in deeper.
THE LONG AFTERNOON passed very slowly.
The crew and the keepers manned their poles. They shoved, the barge moved slightly and dug in again. Long after it was apparent to Leftrin that Tarman was opposing their efforts to free him, he stubbornly kept his crew at work. First Hennesey called him aside, then Swarge and Bellin together approached him. Skelly read his humor and left him alone. His replies to each query were terse. Yes, he could see that the barge was deliberately digging in. Yes, he could tell it was not accidental. No, he didn’t want to stop trying. And no, he had no idea what was upsetting the ship.
In all the family history of Tarman, Leftrin had never heard of him directly defying his captain’s will. He couldn’t quite believe this was happening. “Ship, what ails you?” he muttered as he clutched the aft railing. But there was too much going on around him. The clustered and chattering keepers, the anxious crew, and Leftrin’s own frustration clouded his ability to read his ship. Tarman conveyed by turns agitation when they tried to move him and determination as he dug in deeper.
More than once that day, Leftrin had silently set his hands to the railing and tried to find out what was troubling his ship. Demanding to know what was wrong only brought an echo from his ship that this is wrong.
At one point, he bellowed aloud in frustration, “How is it wrong?”
All heads turned to him, Skelly gaping in shock. The only response he felt from Tarman made no sense. Water wrong, river wrong. It made no sense. So Leftrin dug his heels in as firmly as Tarman’s claws were set in the bottom and kept crew and keepers busy at trying to rip the barge free. Twice the barge swung wide and almost came free, only to suddenly dig in at the other end. It was oil on the flames of his frustration to sense his ship’s amusement at the humans’ puny efforts.
He had given the pole handlers a break when Swarge and Hennesey came at him together. “Cap, we think it might have something to do with the new, uh, hull design. ”
That from Swarge, and then Hennesey added, “And if it does, we might be better off to find out what’s troubling Tarman before we insist on having our own way. ”
He was still formulating an answer to that when someone shouted, “Keeper boats are coming back, hunters, too. And the dragons are headed back toward us. ”
He glanced up at the sky, and then at the approaching boats and dragons. The dragons and hunters must have finally realized the barge wasn’t following them. They were returning. They’d lose most of a day’s travel at a time when supplies were running low. He wasn’t pleased. He looked over at his crew. This was probably the hardest day they’d put in since the barge had been modified. They were exhausted and worried. The keepers looked weary. He gave in.
“Put the poles up. Even if we got free tonight, we’d just have to find a good place to overnight. So, we’ll stay here. Keepers, you can go ashore, see what you can find for firewood, make a blaze. Let’s all take a break, and I’ll have a fresh look at things in the morning. ” He turned and walked away from their puzzled stares. It did not help that he sensed Tarman’s profound satisfaction at getting his own way.
ALISE SAW THYMARA clambering over the railing and called out to her hastily, “May I go with you?”
Thymara stopped, startled. She had a bag slung over her shoulder and her hair, freshly fastened into long black braids, had been tied in a bundle at the back of her head. “I’ve already been to check on Sintara. I’m going to use what’s left of the light to look at the other tributary. ”
“I’d guessed that. May I go with you, please?” Alise put a bit of emphasis on the last word. She’d already seen the girl’s reluctance.
“If you wish. ” Thymara sounded more resigned than welcoming. She was still missing her friend, Alise supposed.
She followed the Rain Wild girl to the railing and climbed down after her to the muddy shore. The dragons had taken refuge for the evening on the delta between the two rivers and were rapidly trampling the vegetation into oblivion. Even so, it was the most pleasant place they had stopped at for a while. Scattered white trees with papery bark grew on almost dry land. Behind them a forest grew that looked almost familiar to Alise—a woodland of smaller trees with open spaces between them.
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But she was following Thymara and the girl did not go that way, but toward the other river. For a time, Alise followed her in silence, intent on keeping up with the younger woman. Thymara walked swiftly; Alise did not complain. But as they reached the bank of the gentler river and began to walk up its shore, Thymara slowed, knitting her brow and peering around at the trees and moss and grasses.
“It’s so different here,” she said at last.
“It’s a more familiar kind of forest,” Alise agreed and then added, “To me at least. ”
“The water is so clear. ”
It wasn’t, to Alise’s eyes. But she saw immediately what Thymara was referring to. “There’s no white to it. No acid at all, or at least very little. ”
“I’ve never seen a river like this. ” Thymara made her way to the mossy bank and stooped down. After a moment of hesitation, she dipped her fingers into the water and let drops of it fall on her tongue. “I’ve never tasted water like this. It’s alive. ”
Alise didn’t laugh. “It looks like normal river water to me. But I haven’t seen this much of it since I entered the Rain Wilds. Oh, we’ve passed some streams of clear water on our way here, but as you said, nothing like this. ”
“Shh. ”
Alise froze and followed the direction of Thymara’s stare. Across the river, deer had come to drink. There was a buck with a substantial rack, two spike bucks, and several does. Only one had noticed the two women. The large buck stood, muzzle still dripping, and stared at them while the other deer came and drank.
“And me with no bow. ” Thymara sighed.
The buck’s large ears flicked back and forth. He made a sound in his throat, a whuff, and his companions immediately lifted their heads. He made no sign that Alise saw, but the deer immediately retreated into the shelter of the trees and underbrush with the buck being the last to wheel and go. Privately, Alise was glad that Thymara was weaponless. She would not have enjoyed watching him die, nor helping with the butchering.
“If stupid Greft wasn’t so selfish with the hunting tools, we’d all be having fresh venison tonight,” Thymara grumbled.
“Perhaps the hunters will bring something back. ”
“And perhaps they won’t,” Thymara rep
lied sourly. She set out again, following the riverbank, and Alise followed her. “Why did you want to come with me?” Thymara asked abruptly. Her voice was more puzzled than unfriendly.
“To see what you do, and how. To spend time with you. ”
Thymara glanced back at her, startled. “Me?”
“Sometimes it’s pleasant to be in the company of another woman. Bellin is kind to me, but she has everything she needs in Swarge. When I spend time with her, I know she is making that time for me. Skelly is busy and her concern is the ship. Sylve is sweet but young. Jerd is…”
“Jerd is a nasty bitch,” Thymara filled in when Alise paused to find tactful words.
“Exactly,” Alise agreed and laughed guiltily. “At least right now. Before she was pregnant, she was too interested in the boys to speak to me. And now her life is focused on her belly. Poor thing. What a situation to be in. ”
“Perhaps she should have thought of that before she got into it,” Thymara suggested.
“I’m sure she should have. But now, well, she is where she is, and it’s up to all of us to be kind to her. ”
“Why?” Thymara paused in her speech as she climbed over a fallen log and then waited for Alise to join her on the other side. “Do you think she’d be kind to you or me if the situation was reversed?”
Alise thought about it. “Probably not. But that doesn’t excuse us from doing what is right. ” Even to herself, her words sounded a bit self-righteous. She peered at Thymara to see how she would react. But the Rain Wild girl had her head cocked back, looking up at the trees.
“Do you smell something?”
