Rain Wilds Chronicles (186 page)

Sylve had scowled, her scaled brow wrinkling, first in puzzlement and then in annoyance. “Rapskal,” she sighed in disgust. “Think of all the peculiar things that boy says, and then tell me why any of them should be taken seriously. Not an Elderling . . . Oh. I suppose that technically he was right. But only in that you have no dragon to demand ridiculous tasks on a moment's notice. Not that Sintara would hesitate to do so! But, Alise, please, you have come all this way with us, done so much for us. Without you, do you think we would be here? Would we ever have dared believe this place existed? Look. I chose these for you, the colors will suit you. I've seen you wear the Elderling robe that Leftrin gave you, so why not dress as one of us?”

Alise had had no response to that. Not sure if she felt humbled or honored, she had taken the garments from Sylve's hands. And worn them the next day.

Now she pulled her Elderling cloak tighter around her as she strode through the windy streets, and it was like wrapping herself in Sylve's friendship. Winter had loosened its harsh grip on the land, and the last few days had seemed almost springlike, but every evening the chill settled again and wind swept through the city.

The streets of Kelsingra were like the streets of no other city in the world. She hurried alone, the sole living figure on a thoroughfare wide enough for two dragons to pass each other. The buildings soared on either side of her, structure after structure with steps, porticoes, and entries scaled to dragons. Empty and dark, the broad streets still teemed with remembered Elderlings and occasional dragons, all bathed in an imaginary light. To that remembered illumination was added the light that spilled from the awakened city windows, now white, now golden, now a muted blue. A few of the larger buildings gently glowed in the darkness, acting as beacons within the city. She turned her face toward the waterfront.

She had seen Leftrin from the shore, shouted a greeting to him, and saw on his face all that she longed to hear him say. He had glanced around, agonized by the conflict between duty and longing, and she had suddenly known that she did not want to be something that required that sort of decision. He had to think only of his ship now, not arrange to have her board and become a distraction.

She remembered how the voice of Malta the Elderling had broken into her dilemma. “Alise? Alise Finbok? Is that you?” She had felt startled and honored that the Elderlings had seen fit to come to Kelsingra. Until she had seen the woman's haggard face and skeletal child, and then a very different emotion had filled her. She had glanced back only once at Leftrin as she took charge of them and had been proud to see the relief on his face. She had lifted a hand, waved a reluctant farewell, and seen him echo the gesture. And then she had left the docks to escort Malta, Reyn, and her child to what comforts they could offer them.

She and Leftrin had needed no words. Now there was a novelty; a man who assumed she knew what she was doing and was willing to wait for her. A smile broke out on her face. She was willing to wait no longer.

She crested one of Kelsingra's rolling hills and suddenly saw the riverbank scene before her as if it were a Jamaillian puppet play. The keepers had borrowed tethered light globes that graced some of the more elaborate gardens. The spheres gleamed golden and scarlet, and their light ran away in spills across the streaming river water. She stood staring; never had she beheld anything like it. The yellow light bounced off Tarman's deck and then faded into a halo around the ship against the black night. Men still moved there as shadowed silhouettes. The crew called to one another as they worked, the sound carrying oddly over the water. She saw squat and bulky Swarge moving across the deck, graceful for a man of his size. A moment later, she realized she had become accustomed to the slender silhouettes of the keepers. Ordinary folk looked strange to her now.

A hastily rigged tripod lifted and swung crates from the ship's deck to the rudimentary dock where men grunted and swore as they caught them and guided them down. She spotted Carson's silhouette, and Lecter's, and then she saw Sedric among those dragging the crates from the dock to the shore. That made her smile. Alum was there, working alongside Skelly, and she suspected she knew why he had volunteered to stay and help with the last of the unloading. Once the crates were off the dock, they were loaded onto barrows and shuttled off to their temporary warehouse. The work proceeded in a steady, orderly fashion, the deck and shore crews moving in their concerted efforts as if in a careful dance.

She caught sight of Thymara working alongside the men, and Nortel. There was Tats, shouting to Davvie to come lend a hand with the final crate he was struggling to shift. It came to her to wonder when a ship had last unloaded supplies for this city. What had this river port looked like in the days of the Elderlings? Too careless a thought. She knew a dizzying moment of double vision and saw a sprawling dock system and a score of vessels moored to it. Lights on tall poles streamed golden rays down on the broad-beamed, brightly painted vessels, and all manner of people came and went on the wharves. Some were Elderling by their dress and tall silhouettes, but others seemed to be foreigners to these shores. They wore tall hats and were garbed in long furs. She blinked and then squinted her eyes, willing herself back to the present. The Elderlings faded and the ships became fog until only the
Tarman
rode at anchor on the river's tugging current.

“And that's the last of it, boys!” Hennesey shouted as four netted casks landed with a thump on the dock. A ragged cheer went up from the crew and the keepers. “Still got to get it all under cover, so don't think the work is all done yet!” the mate reminded them.

Alise had to agree. It looked like so much cargo, crates and kegs stacked in rows in the street as the keepers struggled to move it to shelter. But when she thought of the long months that remained and all the work that must be done before the keepers could create their own food supplies, her heart sank. Food from Trehaug would still have to be managed carefully, and wild game and forest greens would remain the bulk of their diet.

So much to do, such a long distance to go before the city would function as a real city. Kelsingra needed seed for crops, plows to break the meadow soil, and horses to draw those plows. Most difficult of all was that the keepers would have to learn how to provide for themselves. Sons and daughters of hunters and gatherers, merchants and traders, former residents of a city that had never been able to feed itself, would they adapt to tilling fields and raising kine?

And even if they did, were there enough of them to sustain it? The male-to-female ratio was worrisome and had been from the beginning.

Resolutely, she pushed it all from her thoughts. Not tonight. Tonight was hers, finally. She reached the bottom of the hill and threaded her way through the crates and boxes and out onto the dock. “Watch your step!” Carson cautioned her with a grin. “We've given these timbers a real test tonight, and some are starting to split. One of the hazards of building with green logs.”

“I'll be careful,” she promised him.

The emptied
Tarman
rode high, and the taut anchor lines hummed a quiet song of vigilance. She eyed the makeshift gangplank, steep and worn. No. She wouldn't ask for help. She started up it, her Elderling shoes surprisingly sure on the wet wood, but was scarcely three steps up before Leftrin came leaping down to her. Heedless of the treacherous surface, he seized her in a hug that lifted her off her feet. Close by her ear, his unshaven cheek prickling hers, he told her, “I have missed you like I'd miss air in my lungs. I can't leave you again. Just can't, my lady.”

“You won't,” she promised him, and in the next gasped breath, demanded, “Put me down before we both go overboard!”

“Not a chance!” As casually as if she were a child, he swung her up into his arms and in two steps thudded her down on Tarman's deck. He set her on her feet but did not release her. His embrace warmed her as nothing else could. Perhaps her days in the Elderling city had sensitized her, but she felt Tarman's welcome of her as a warmth that flowed up from where her feet touched his deck to engulf her whole body.

“That's amazing,” she murmured into Leftrin's shoulder. She lifted her face slightly to ask him, “How do I let him know that it's mutual?”

“Oh, he knows, trust me. He knows it just as I know it.”

She could smell his scent. Not cologne such as Hest had often worn, but the scent of a man and the work he had done that day. His hands held her firmly against him; she surrendered to the rush of arousal that suffused her and turned her face up to his to be kissed.

“Sir. Captain Leftrin.”

“What?” His bark was more demand than question. Alise turned her head to find Skelly stifling a grin. Her hair gleamed from being freshly brushed, and she had abandoned her trousers and tunic for a flowered skirt and a pale yellow blouse and looked, Alise thought to herself, more like a girl than she ever had before.

“Everything is tidied away, and the mate says he has no more tasks for me. Permission to go ashore for the night, sir?”

Leftrin straightened. “Skelly. As your captain, I'll grant you a night's leave. But you are to be back here by dawn's light, to help take Tarman across the water. Be late, and you won't see this city again for a month. Are we clear on that?”

“Yes, sir. I'll be here, I promise.”

As she spun excitedly away, he cleared his throat. Skelly halted to look back at him.

“As your uncle, I'll remind you that we had no opportunity to speak to your parents or your fiancé. They all still have assumptions about commitments from you. You are not free. Even if I thought it was wise to do so, I couldn't give you that sort of permission. You know what I'm talking about. I'm responsible for you. But even more so, you are responsible for yourself. Don't risk either of us.”

Skelly's cheeks had gone red. The smile flattened from her face. “I know,” she said sharply, and then, “sir,” she added, as if fearful he would revoke her shore time.

Leftrin shook his head, then shrugged. “Go see your friends. Wander the city. Sa knows, I'm as curious as you are about this place. And if I were a deckhand instead of the captain of this vessel, I'd want to get off and take a good look. But I'm not. So I'll be staying aboard, and I'll expect to find you at the galley table when dawn breaks, ready for a day's work.”

“Sir,” she agreed and spun on her heel. In a twinkling, she was down on the dock and hurrying up the street. As they watched, Alum waved a farewell to Tats and Sedric and hurried after her.

“Are you sure that was wise?” Alise asked, and then wondered at her own temerity.

“I am sure it was not,” he told her. “Come.”

Together they began the slow circuit of Tarman's deck that always presaged bed and rest for them. Bed. No rest tonight, and a sudden shiver of desire rushed through her. A moment later, Leftrin smiled. “That's an odd reaction for a lady to have to a poor sailor checking his knots.”

“This ship keeps none of my secrets from you.” She laughed and walked to the next cleat to inspect the lines for herself. As Leftrin came to join her, she said more quietly, “I fear for your niece. While you have been gone, I have watched this place change all the young keepers. Alum is no exception. Skelly may not find him the same young man she left behind.”

Leftrin smiled wryly. “That is ever the fate of sailors! And if you are correct, the sooner she discovers it, the better. And then she may be glad that she did not break her engagement with her beau in Trehaug.” He shook his head and in response to her unasked question, added, “There were many things I did not get done there. Did Malta and Reyn tell you the full tale of how the Council received me, and of the dastardly attack on Malta and her babe?”

“I had the bones of it. I do not think Malta wanted to relive it, and Reyn strikes me as a man who always speaks less than he knows.”

Leftrin made a wry face. “They are private people. Despite their beauty, I think they have lived a life apart. Perhaps because of it. Or it may be caution. They may fear treachery still. Who would ever have imagined Malta the Elderling attacked by Chalcedeans in a Rain Wild city? It speaks to me of a duke who is very determined to get what he wants, and Traders corrupt enough to help him in that insanity. Alise, I know you have feared for the city. But the treasure that seems to be sought most at this time is not Elderling artifacts but dragon flesh. The rewards for it must be very high indeed if two men were willing to murder a woman and a newborn child in the hope of passing off their bodies as dragon meat. The dragons have shown already that they can drive off approaching ships. But what I fear is what will eventually happen if they feel they must continue to defend themselves. Sooner or later, human lives will be lost. Possibly many of them. And if there is war between humans and dragons, where will the Elderlings stand?”

Alise walked with him in silence as they checked the last three lines. She heard the low murmur of voices and glanced up. On the roof of the deckhouse, Hennesey was standing, a wide smile on his face as he told some sailor story to a strange woman. Her scaled face reflected light from the tethered globes. So. That must be Tillamon, Reyn's sister. She seemed captured by the mate's tale. The Rain Wild woman was well bundled against the night's damp chill. Someone had thought to bring her an Elderling gown.
Probably Sylve,
Alise thought to herself. In the reflected light of the failing torches, it glimmered copper and bronze. She was smiling up at Hennesey as he concluded his story, and they both laughed aloud at the finish of it. Much as she wanted to meet Reyn's sister, Alise knew that now would not be a good time for pleasantries.

Leftrin halted beside her. His eyes were narrowed, and a slight scowl bent his lips. She took his arm and drew him along with her as she approached the galley door. “They do as we do, my dear. They take what joy they may find in life as they can. As you well know that Skelly has run off to do tonight, also. The shadows of harsh times creep over us. For in a battle between dragons and men, my love, it is not only the Elderlings who must decide where they stand, but you and me as well.”