Blood of Dragons. Робин Хобб
There was colour in her cheeks and it suddenly came to Reyn that his sister looked younger and more alive than she had in years. He spoke without thinking, ‘You look happy.’
Her expression changed to stricken. ‘No. No, Reyn, I fear just as much as you do for Phron!’
Malta shook her head slowly. Her smile was sad but genuine. ‘Sister, I know you do. You are always here to help us. But that doesn’t mean you should not be happy with what you have found on this journey. Neither I nor Reyn resent that you’ve …’
Malta’s voice tapered off as she glanced at him. Reyn knew that his face was frozen in confusion. ‘Found what?’ he demanded.
‘Love,’ Tillamon said simply. She met her brother’s stare directly.
Reyn’s thoughts raced as his mind rapidly reinterpreted snatches of overheard conversations and moments glimpsed between Tillamon and … ‘Hennesey?’ he asked, caught between amazement and dismay. ‘Hennesey, the first mate?’ His tone conveyed all that his words did not say. His sister, a Trader-born woman, taking up with a common sailor? One with the air of a man used to womanizing?
Her mouth went flat and her eyes unreadable. ‘Hennesey. And it’s none of your business, little brother. I came of age years ago. I make my own choices now.’
‘But—’
‘I am so tired,’ Malta suddenly interjected, turning in his embrace. ‘Please, Reyn. Let’s take this chance Tillamon is giving us to share a bed and some rest. It’s been days since I’ve slept beside you, and I always rest better when you are near me. Come.’
She tugged at his arm and he turned unwillingly to follow her. Getting her to rest was more important than quarrelling with his sister. Later, they could talk in private. In silence he followed her toward the chamber they would share. It was little more than a large cargo crate secured to the deck. Within was a pallet that had served them alternately as a bed. He did look forward to rest and to holding Malta as she slept. He had come to hate sleeping alone.
It was as if Malta could read his thoughts. ‘Let her be, Reyn. Think of what we have and how it comforts us. How can we resent Tillamon seeking the same?’
‘But … Hennesey?’
‘A man who works hard and loves what he does. A man who sees her and smiles at her rather than grinning mockingly or turning away. I think he’s sincere, Reyn. And even if he is not, Tillamon is right. She is a woman grown and has been for years. It is not for us to say to whom she should entrust her heart.’
He drew breath to voice objections then sighed it out as Malta lifted the latch on the door. The airless little compartment suddenly looked inviting and cosy. His need for rest and for holding her flooded up through his body.
‘Time enough later to worry. While we can sleep, we should.’
He nodded his agreement to that and followed her in.
Day the 25th of the Fish Moon
Year the 7th of the Independent Alliance of Traders
From your friend in Cassarick to Trader Finbok, Bingtown
The need for caution has increased greatly and with it my expenses. I will expect my next payment to be double what the previous one was. It must all be in coin and delivered discreetly. Your last courier was an idiot, coming directly to where I work and delivering to me only a writ of credit rather than the cash payment we agreed upon.
For this reason, the information I send you today is but the bare bones of what I know. Pay me, and you will know what I know.
The traveller arrived, but not alone. His errand does not seem to be what you suggested it would be. Another stranger offered me substantial money for information about him. I was discreet, but information is what I sell. Or do not sell, if that is more profitable.
The news from upriver is scarce. It might interest you, but for me to deliver it to you, I would have to receive hard coin, taken to the inn in Trehaug that was mentioned to you before and given only to the woman with red hair and a tattoo of three roses on her cheek.
If any of this is done otherwise, our business will be over. You are not the only one who would like to know the inside secrets of Trader news before others do. And some of those others might be very interested to learn what I know of your business.
A word to the wise is sufficient.
Getting the dragons from the riverside meadow to the bridge had taken more time and much more effort than anyone had expected. Sedric stood beside Carson and watched the last of the large dragons go down the steep slope to the old road below them. They had eroded a trough in the steep bank, setting off slides of mud, rock, soil and branches that now spattered out in a fan across the old road below. Tinder was the last to go. By the time he reached the road surface, Nortel’s lavender dragon was dirty brown from his shoulders down.
Only the two smaller dragons, Relpda and Spit, remained. ‘Nasty cold wet mud,’ Relpda complained.
‘I tried to get you to go first, before the others loosened the slope,’ Sedric reminded her.
‘Did not like. Do not like. It’s too steep.’
‘You’ll be fine. You’ll slide down and then you’ll be at the bottom,’ Sedric tried to reassure her.
‘You’ll roll like a rock and be lucky not to break both your wings,’ Spit suggested spitefully. His silvery-grey eyes were tinged with red as they spun slowly. He seemed to relish the distress he was triggering in Relpda. Sedric wanted to hit him with something large. He smothered the thought before Relpda or Spit could react to it and tried to suffuse his thoughts and voice with calmness.
‘Relpda, listen to me. I would not ask you to do anything that I thought would hurt you. We have to get down from here, and there’s only one way. We need to slide down the hill, and then we can join the other dragons on the bridge.’
‘And once you’re there, he wants you to jump off the bridge and into the water and drown.’ Spit sounded absolutely enthused with the idea.
‘Dragon,’ Carson warned him sternly, but the little silver was unrepentant. ‘My keeper wants me to drown, too,’ he confided to Relpda. ‘Then he won’t have to hunt as often to feed me. He’ll have more time to jostle around in his bedding with your keeper.’
Carson didn’t respond with words. He simply lunged forward suddenly, his shoulder striking his dragon’s haunch with the full force of his weight behind it. Spit had been loitering too near the edge, peering with disapproval at the long, steep drop. The small silver dragon scrabbled wildly to regain his clutch on the hillside, but succeeded only in loosening more earth. He lashed his tail, knocking Carson’s feet from under him, and then they were suddenly both sliding down the hill, fishtailing in the muddy chute, with Carson lunging and getting a grip of the top of Spit’s wing. The dragon trumpeted wildly as they went, but it was only when Carson added a whoop of his own that Sedric realized neither of them was truly upset at the abrupt descent.
‘They like it? The being dirty and going fast down the hill?’ Copper Relpda echoed his confusion.
‘Apparently,’ Sedric replied dubiously. Carson and Spit reached the bottom and rode a spray of loosened earth out into the road. Getting to his feet, Carson brushed uselessly at his clothing and called back up the hill, ‘Not so bad, really. Come on down.’
‘I suppose there’s no help for it,’ Sedric replied. He scanned