The Dragon Keeper (29 page)

When their business was concluded and she rose from the table, he offered her his arm, just as he always did. As she took it, she looked up at him and smiled. He smiled back and patted her hand reassuringly. “Thank you, my friend,” she said quietly.

“Not at all,” he replied.

Year the 6th of the Independent Alliance of Traders

From Detozi, Keeper of the Birds, Trehaug

To Erek, Keeper of the Birds, Bingtown

From the Traders’ Councils at Cassarick and Trehaug to the Bingtown Traders’ Council, in a sealed scroll case, an accounting of the expected expenses for moving the dragons to a spot more conducive to their good health, with the Bingtown Traders’ Council’s share of the expenses itemized in detail.

Erek,

You should not listen to silly gossip. The dragons are to be moved, not slaughtered or sold! How rumors do twist as they fly. I have received the peas, and the difference in my birds’ plumage is already noticeable. Is this feed expensive? Is it possible you could acquire a hundredweight sack for me, if it is not too dear?

Detozi

L
eftrin straightened up from slouching against the railing and peered down the dock at the procession headed toward the
Tarman
. Was this what Trell was sending his way? He scratched a whiskery cheek and shook his head to himself. Two dock workers were pushing barrows laden with heavy trunks. Another two followed carrying something the size of a wardrobe. And following behind them came a man dressed more for a tea party in Bingtown than for a trip up the Rain Wild River on a barge. He wore a long dark blue jacket over dove-gray trousers and low black boots and was bareheaded. He looked fit, in the manner of a man who is generally so but has never developed the muscles of a particular trade. He carried nothing save a walking stick. “Never worked a day in his life,” Leftrin decided quietly.

The woman on his arm looked as if she had at least tried to be practical. A brimmed hat shaded her face; Leftrin supposed that the loose netting attached to it was intended to protect her from insects. Her dress was dark green. The fitted bodice and wrist-length sleeves showed off a tidy upper figure, but he estimated there was enough fabric in the skirts that belled out around her to dress half a dozen women her size. Little white gloves protected her hands. He caught a glimpse of a neat black-booted foot as she walked toward his barge.

The runner had reached him just before he ordered his crew to cast off for their trip upriver to Cassarick. “Trell from the
Paragon
says he’s got a couple of passengers who want to get to Cassarick fast. They’ll pay you well if you’ll wait for them to transfer.”

“Tell Trell I’ll wait half an hour for them. After that, I’m gone,” he’d told the boy who had run the message. The lad had bobbed an acknowledgment and scampered off.

Well, he had waited substantially more than half an hour for them. And now that he saw them, he doubted the wisdom of accepting them aboard. He’d expected Rain Wild folk in a hurry to get home, not Bingtowners with a full complement of luggage. He spat over the side. Well, he hoped they’d meant what they’d said about paying him well to wait for them.

“Our cargo is here. Get it loaded,” he ordered Hennesey.

“Skelly. Get it done,” the mate passed the command onto the young deckhand.

“Sir,” the girl acknowledged him and jumped lightly across to the dock. Big Eider moved to help her. Leftrin remained where he was, watching his passengers approach. They reached the end of the dock, and the man visibly recoiled at the sight of the long, low barge that awaited them. Leftrin chuckled quietly as the fellow looked about, obviously hoping there was some other vessel waiting to convey them upriver. Lace. The dandy had lace at the neck of his shirt and showing at the cuffs of his jacket. Then the man looked directly up at Leftrin and he composed his face.

“Is this the
Tarman
?” he asked, almost desperately.

“It is indeed. And I’m Captain Leftrin. I assume you’re my passengers, in need of swift transport to Cassarick. Welcome aboard.”

The man once more cast a wild glance about. “But—I thought—” He watched in horror as one of their heavy cases teetered on the
Tarman
’s railing before sliding with a thump to land safely on the deck. He turned to his female companion, “Alise, this isn’t wise. This ship isn’t a proper place for a lady. We’ll just have to wait. It can’t hurt for us to take a day or two in Trehaug. I’ve always been curious about this city, and we’ve scarcely glimpsed it.”

“We’ve no choice, Sedric. Paragon will stay here at Trehaug for ten days at most. The journey from here to Cassarick will take two days, and we have to allot two more days to travel back and meet Paragon before he sails. That gives us only six days in Cassarick, at most.” The woman’s voice was calm and throaty, with a hint of sadness in it. The veiling on her hat concealed most of her face, but Leftrin glimpsed a small determined chin and a wide mouth.

“But, well, but Alise, six days should be more than ample, if what Captain Trell told us about the dragons is true. So we can wait here a day, or even two if need be, and find more appropriate transport up the river.”

Skelly was not paying any attention to the quibbling passengers. She had her orders from the mate and that was who she obeyed. She was waving to Hennesey who had swung a small cargo derrick over the side. Hennesey released the line and the girl deftly caught the swinging hook and began making it fast to the wardrobe trunk. Eider and Bellin were standing by to bring it aboard. Leftrin’s crew was good; they’d have the passengers’ luggage loaded while the man was still chewing on his lip. Best find out their intentions now rather than to have to offload it all.

“You can wait,” Leftrin told the man. “But I don’t think you’ll find anything else going upriver in the next few days. Not much traffic between Trehaug and Cassarick right now. And what there is will be a lot smaller than I am. Still, it’s your choice. But you’ll need to make it quickly. I’ve already waited longer than I should have. I’ve appointments of my own to keep.”

And that was true. The urgently worded missive from the Traders’ Council at Cassarick sounded as if it could mean a nice little profit for him, if he undertook their rather dubious mission. Leftrin grinned. He already knew he’d take on the task. He’d taken on most of the supplies he’d need for the journey here in Trehaug. But leaving the Traders’ Council in doubt until the last possible minute was one way to push the price up. By the time he reached Cassarick, they’d be ready to promise him the moon. So delaying for these passengers was not really that much of an annoyance. He leaned on the railing to ask, “You aboard or not?”

He was waiting for the man to respond to his words, so he was surprised when the woman replied to him. She tipped her head back to speak to him, and the sun reached through her gauzy veil to reveal her features. Her stance reminded him of a flower turning its face to the sun. She had large gray eyes set wide apart in a heart-shaped face. She had bundled her hair out of the way, but what he could see of it was dark red and curling. Freckles sprinkled her nose and cheeks generously. Another man might have seen her mouth as too generous for her face, but not Leftrin. The single darting glance she gave him seemed to look not into his eyes but into his heart. And then she looked aside, too proper to meet a strange man’s eyes.

“. . . no choice, really,” she was saying, and he wondered what words he had missed. “We’ll be happy to go with you, sir. I’m sure your boat will suit us admirably.” A rueful smile twitched at her lips, and as she turned her attention to her companion, Leftrin felt a pang of loss as she tilted her head and apologized to him sweetly. “Sedric, I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you were dragged into this whole mess with me, and I’m ashamed that I must drag you from one boat to the next without even a cup of tea or a few hours on dry land to settle you. But you see how it is. We must go.”

“Well, if it’s a cup of tea you’d like, that’s something I can brew up for you here in the galley. And if it was dry land you were after, well, there’s little of that in Trehaug, or anywhere else in the Rain Wilds. So you haven’t missed it, it was never there. Come on aboard, and welcome.”

That brought her eyes back to his. “Why, Captain Leftrin, how kind of you,” she exclaimed, and the sincere relief in her voice warmed him. She lifted the veiling on her hat to look at him directly, and he nearly lost his breath.

He seized the railing and swung over it, dropping lightly to the dock. He sketched a bow to her. Surprised, she took two small steps backward. Young Skelly made a small sound that might have been a giggle. Her captain shot her a glare and she quickly went back to work. Leftrin turned his attention back to the woman.

“Tarman may not look as fancy as some of the other ships you’ve seen, but he’ll carry you safely upriver where few vessels as large as he is can manage to go. Shallow draft, you know. And a crew that knows how to find the best channel when the current takes to wandering. You wouldn’t want to wait for one of those little toy boats to carry you. They might look a bit fancier than my Tarman, but they rock like a birdcage in the wind and their crews battle to push them against the current. You’ll be far more comfortable with us. May I assist you in boarding, ma’am?” He grinned at her and dared to stick out his arm for her to take. She glanced at it uncertainly, then at her disapproving companion. The man crossed his arms. He was no husband of hers, or Leftrin was certain he would have objected. Better and better.

“Please,” Leftrin urged her, and it was only when she set her smooth white glove on the rough, stained fabric of his shirtsleeve that he was recalled to the obvious difference in their stations. She glanced down as he looked at her, and he admired her lashes against her freckled cheeks. “This way,” he told her and led her to the rough planks that served as a gangway for the
Tarman
. The ramp creaked and shifted as they trod it, and she gave a small involuntary gasp and gripped his arm tighter. There was a bit of a jump down from the end of the plank to the barge deck. He wished he dared set his hands to her waist and lift her down. Instead, he offered his arm again for her to steady herself on. She leaned heavily on his arm and then gamely hopped. He saw a flash of white petticoat before she landed safely beside him.

“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.