Rain Wilds Chronicles (201 page)

With every passing moment, Hest gained more confidence in his position. He was just on the point of stepping forth and demanding that his rights as a Bingtown Trader be recognized when four of the Chalcedeans attempted to escape. The response of the red dragon sent them scurrying back, and Hest quickly moved as far away from the culprits as he could. If the dragon decided to dispatch one or more of them, he did not want to be confused with them.

The tumult among the Kelsingra Elderlings was subsiding. A woman was weeping and holding on to the scarlet man while a stouter fellow had draped an arm across his shoulders. Some crisis had passed, it appeared, though he had no idea what it meant. In avoiding the Chalcedeans, he had moved to the outer fringe of the huddled captives. Most of them had fallen silent, though a few still wept or cursed quietly. The slaves had squatted down to passively await whatever fate would befall them now. Clearly this was not the first time that the course of their lives had changed without their consent.

His fears calmed, Hest coldly assessed his position. So his “wife” had turned sailor's whore. There was a lever he could use. If she had any sense of shame left at all he might be able to persuade her to pretend she was dead and let him inherit all her share in return for his keeping silent about her sluttish behavior. She could not possibly return to Bingtown after what she had done, not if she cared for her family at all. So Alise was not a problem. He'd have all he wanted from her and be able to return unencumbered by her.

He could see that others among the captives were likewise evaluating their positions. The two Jamaillian merchants were talking fast and low to each other, surely discussing what trade terms they could offer, and who would not only ransom them but send enough coin that they could buy priceless Elderling relics to take home with them. He saw them look over at the keepers who had been joined by the ship's crew and were in earnest discussion. Only the dragon was watching the captives now, but one dragon was an ample guard for all of them. What were the Jamaillians trying to discern? Probably the same thing that Trader Candral was puzzling about. Who was truly in charge here? Who would not only decide his fate, but be the person who would negotiate their future?

Hest ran his eyes over them, dismissing the sailors in their rough clothes, considering only those masquerading as Elderlings. His eyes snagged on one tall fellow, standing at the edge of the crowd. He was watching the street behind him, waiting for someone, and ignoring the lively discussion among the dragon keepers. Hest read him carefully. Of all the Elderlings, he best maintained his bearing. Carefully attired in garments that complemented one another as well as his own coloring and in gleaming black boots, he had a born gentility to his posture. The wind tossed his cloak gently and moved his hair on his shoulders. A handsome fellow, lean and tall and well muscled, his scaling was coppery-brown over his own tanned skin. Hest felt a stirring of interest in him and smiled to himself. It would be a novelty to run his hands over smoothly scaled flesh. The tall man turned and said something to one of the others. From the depths of his hood, Hest stared at the copper Elderling.

Sedric.

But it could not be. The man would easily be of a height with Hest. Sedric had always been willowy and slight, forever boyish. This fellow was unmistakably a man, his shoulders wide and his chest deep. Then as a smile broke out on his face, he was unmistakably and forever Sedric, but a Sedric transformed by magic into an exotic and magnificent creature. Hest gazed at him, entranced. All Sedric's flaws had been burned away. Hest evaluated him, studying how he stood, watching and waiting. The almost-childish softness that had become an irritant to Hest over the last few years had been chiseled away, perhaps by hardship. However it had happened, it was gone, replaced by muscle and firmness. Here was someone who would yield to Hest, but not as easily as the old Sedric had. His pulse quickened at the thought. Sedric had become worthy again of his attention. And when Hest took him back to Bingtown, what a sensation he would be in their circle!

With a dizzying lurch, Hest suddenly realized that Sedric had fulfilled his dream. Dragon parts or no, the share of the city that Hest could claim through his trollop wife and his employee was a staggering amount. His eyes roamed over the city above the docks, and his heart suddenly leaped to new ambitions and ideas. Any one of those mansions could be claimed as his. Here, truly, he could live however he wanted to live, away from the condemnation of Bingtown and family. Did he need to return to Bingtown and take up his life there, under his father's watchful and disapproving eye? With the wealth he could rightfully claim, he could establish himself here, his friends could join him, and once trade was launched with other cities, he could travel wherever he wished. And Sedric had done it! He'd done it for both of them!

Sedric. He had been a half-schooled youngster when Hest had plucked the unsophisticated and naive lad out of his dull and stunted life. Everything about Hest had left Sedric wide-eyed with wonder. Hest had educated him in the ways that a young Trader's son should live, taught him how to dress and ride and dine, to choose a wine or critique a play. And he supposed that along the way, he'd wakened his appetites and his ambition for a finer life than that for which his humble family had prepared him. Hest shook his head in wonder, not just at Sedric but at himself. They'd laugh about all this someday, how Hest had inadvertently set Sedric's feet on the path that had won him a fortune. He looked at him with fondness and some pride.
So many misunderstandings along the way, Sedric. So many missteps on your part. But nonetheless, here we are, and fortune smiles on me through you.

Hest took a moment to straighten his collar. He would step out from among the captives, stand proud as he threw his hood back and called Sedric's name. He paused a moment to savor the amazement and joy he would kindle in Sedric's eyes. Not to mention the awe and envy of the prisoners as he alone was greeted and welcomed by the gleaming bronze man.

He had stepped free of the others and lifted his hands to his hood when he heard someone call Sedric's name. And there, coming down the street, a bow slung across his shoulder, was the man Sedric had been watching for. There was a youngster at his side carrying several dead birds. Hunters returning with their kills? He saw how the smile widened on Sedric's face, a look of both welcome and relief. Sedric strode hastily to meet them as Hest watched in consternation. What could he possibly have to say to such a rough man?

He lost all interest in his own fate as he watched Sedric greet the two newcomers. He took a moment to speak to the youngster who displayed his grisly trophies with evident pride. Hest was shocked when Sedric actually took hold of one bird and hefted it approvingly before returning it to the lad. But then, as Sedric began explaining with obvious excitement all that was going on, the tall hunter put his arm around him and pulled him close. Sedric leaned on him for an instant in obvious affection. Then, in an open display of warmth, the tall hunter kept his arm around Sedric as they walked toward the others. It was impossible to miss the bond between the two of them. A wash of numbness spread up from Hest's belly. Sedric had replaced him? Had forgotten him and set him aside for a handsome savage? The insult scored him with a thousand claws. Jealousy and hate roiled through him, followed by cold.

Sedric would regret his faithlessness. There were many ways to hurt a man like him.

Day the 12th of the Plough Moon

Year the 7th of the Independent Alliance of Traders

From Reyall, Keeper of the Birds, Bingtown

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

 

Dear Aunt Detozi and Uncle Erek,

I think perhaps you have been expecting to receive this letter for a long time, perhaps for as long as I have been hoping to send it. I know that initially you both had reservations about me courting a Three Ships girl. But I thank Erek for not only taking the time to get to know Karlin, but speaking well of her and of our desire to become engaged. I know that my parents have expressed trepidations about how an “outsider” will react to a Rain Wild youth with quite a bit more than “minor” scaling. Neither she nor her family have ever made an issue of it!

And now, I will remind you all quite cheerfully of what Erek told me when he was instructing me in managing the breeding records of the birds given into my care: “It is always healthy to introduce new blood of a good quality into an established line.”

And such is our intention!

Her parents are, of course, just as conservative as mine in this matter. They have told us that we must wait a full year, but they are allowing us to announce our intentions publicly at last!

So, enclosed, the public announcement of our engagement! Please post it prominently so all may share my pride and joy! One scroll on every tree in the Rain Wilds still could not express it!

Reyall—a Very Happy Man

C
HAPTER
S
IXTEEN

Expectations

I
wish we could take this discussion somewhere warm and speak of it calmly,” Alise said quietly. She was sheltered in the angle of Leftrin's arm, his cloak around her as well as her own. She knew her body was not cold, but the rising cold that she felt inside her was making her feel ill. She was still tired from her time in the stones; even with Leftrin holding her, she felt the lure of them tugging at her like small children begging for her attention. Too much was happening too fast. She felt shamed by the misery and uncertainty in the eyes of the captives, and the abject resignation of the thin, scarred slaves filled her with horror. Alone, that would have been bad enough, but the keepers were quarreling as if they were still the youngsters they had been when they left Trehaug. Kase, Boxter, and Jerd were in favor of letting the dragons do whatever they wished with all the captives. They were the extreme. All the others had taken up varying opinions as to what fate the slaves deserved, the Jamaillian traders, the Chalcedean dragon hunters, and the others. Rapskal had calmed somewhat. His earlier martial attitude had been completely at odds with all Alise knew of the young keeper. Thymara's attitude toward Rapskal's transformation had mirrored her own. She and Tats flanked him now, Tats with an arm across his shoulder and Thymara clasping his arm, as if their physical touch could keep him in this world and time.

Perhaps it could. She knew that she only slept deeply now when she could anchor her body to Leftrin's warm back, only felt solidly in this world when, as now, she held his hand in both of hers. She regretted her sojourn among the memory stones even as she knew that it had been necessary, and that she would one day attempt it again. The knowledge she sought was too important to all of them. She tightened her grip on Leftrin and struggled to keep her thoughts in this world and time.

She glanced away and her eyes met Carson's. He shook his head slowly at her, mirroring her dismay. He had arrived late on the scene, come back from hunting with Davvie and his catch. She knew from Leftrin that he had been taking more time with his foster nephew lately. Davvie and Lecter quarreled often of late, and Carson had been blunt with them both, telling them that he thought they were choosing each other by default rather than based on a true attraction. She did not think his bald stating of the situation was very helpful to either of them, even if she secretly agreed with it.

Carson lifted his voice in a shout that silenced half a dozen angry and worried arguments among the keepers and stilled the anxious shouts of the prisoners. “Let's round them up and take them to the baths. No matter how guilty they may be, they are still human, and even the dragons have said there are innocent men among them. So let us act as befits who we are, rather than who we think they might be. Take them to the baths, let them be clean and warm, and let us be comfortable as well while we discuss this.”

He had a way,
Alise thought. Harrikin backed him with, “Carson's right. They may be brutes, but we are not.” Kase and Boxter were already in motion as if they were sheepdogs given a command. The cousins moved in unison, flanking the prisoners and shouting at them to get up, follow the Elderling in forest green, they were being taken to a judgment place. That was a bit more harsh than she would have phrased it, but it did get them up and moving.

Leftrin tugged at her arm. “Come, my love. Let's get you a hot cup of tea and something to eat. I'll wager you haven't eaten yet today.”

“I haven't,” she admitted. It was strange to sit down with him to their simple foods and humble settings when her mind still reeled with memories of elegant meals in elaborately staged venues. Scarlet wine would not fountain from a carved flower to fall into a chilled crystal goblet for her. Just hot tea with Leftrin. That was as she preferred it. Surely not all the Elderlings had lived that way, but the ones who considered themselves worthy of preserving their complete memories seemed to have pursued lives of utter luxury. Perhaps, she mused, she had been seeking information from the wrong stratum of society. Where, then, should she have looked?

“Alise!”

Startled, she turned her head to see who had shouted her name. The voice was hoarse. She looked at her friends but found that the Elderlings around her were staring back over their shoulders at the weary prisoners who were trailing them. As she stared in consternation, a tall man flung back the hood of his cloak. “Alise!” he cried, and his voice trembled with warmth now. “My darling, is it truly you? After all the days and all the hardship, I've found you at last! I've come to take you home!”

She stared. Then she began to shake, not a trembling, but a shuddering. Her knees buckled, and she would have fallen if Leftrin had not tightened his arm around her. She felt every muscle in his body tighten and his chest swell with anger. “Hest,” she breathed in a choked whisper, confirming what Leftrin had already guessed.

“If he tries to touch you, I'll kill him,” he promised her heartily.

“No, please,” she gasped. “No scenes, not in public. Not like this.” Most of the keepers guessed or knew that she had left a husband behind in Bingtown. Only a few knew how he had deceived her and hurt her, and even fewer knew the extent of Sedric's role in it. She and Sedric had protected each other, leaving those griefs and deceptions behind as they both built new lives in Kelsingra. But now Hest had come to tar them with shame, and everyone here would change their opinions of her. She had come among them as the dragon expert, the learned woman who had helped them believe in the existence of Kelsingra. They had seen her as a bit eccentric, but most of them admired her for her toughness and resourcefulness. She had survived Rapskal's thoughtless comment that she was not one of them, proving that even if she was not an Elderling, she was still essential to the colony.

Hest would take all that from her now, revealing her as a foolish woman who had been mastered by a man who cared nothing for her. All would know her past shame, and she would have to carry it forward into the future.

The thoughts flashed through her mind like a bolt of lightning that burned an image into her eyes. Without thinking, she turned her gaze to Sedric. His face was as white as hers. He had taken two steps out of Carson's sheltering arm to stare in disbelief at what fate had washed up on their shores. The hunter's face had gone still and stoic, as if he waited in the eye of a storm for the cold winds and rain to return. But Hest's charade of affection was for her alone.

“Alise, my dearest one, don't you know me? I know, hardship has changed both of us, but it's me, your husband, Hest Finbok. You'll be safe now. I've come to take you home.”

The entire procession had halted to watch their interchange. Prisoners were exchanging confused looks. The keepers were parting to open a way between Alise and the man who had called her name. Hest moved toward her confidently, advancing from the gaggle of prisoners to walk through the ranks of the stunned keepers and up to Alise. They watched him curiously as he passed. He was, Alise thought, as dapper as ever. If he had endured hardship, it showed only in that he was leaner than she recalled him and perhaps a bit more muscled. The skin of his face was weathered, but it only made him more handsome. His fine black boots were scuffed, his tailored trousers a bit worn, as was the ruffled shirt he wore, but as always, the cut and colors of his clothing drew every eye to him. He pushed back his cloak from his shoulders. The wind stirred his dark hair, and a smile lit his face and eyes as he advanced on her, his arms open as if to embrace her.

“Who is that?” Davvie demanded in awe. He looked dazzled.

Carson replied with a terse, “Shut up.”

Reyn startled everyone when he stepped into Hest's path. “Who are you? Go back with the others until you are judged.” He met Hest's stare eye to eye.

Hest responded with wide-eyed shock. “But . . . but I'm Hest Finbok! I've come all this way to find my wife, Alise! I hired passage on the newest and swiftest ships I could find to come in search of her. When treachery by the captain let it fall to Chalcedean pirates, I thought all was lost. But here I am! Sweet Sa, your miracles never cease! I am here, and alive, and so is my darling wife! Alise, don't you know me? Has your mind been turned by this harsh place? I am here now, and you need no other protector than your loving husband.”

His words, she thought, danced all through the truth, never touching it. Reyn, startled, stayed as he was as Hest stepped around him.

“No.” It was the only word she could manage. Her throat was dry, her heart pounding. She could not find breath to say more than that, but she clung to Leftrin's arm as if it were her only lifeline in a wild sea storm. And he did not let go of her. He stood firm at her side.

Leftrin spoke in a low growl. “The lady says no.”

“Take your hands off my wife!” Hest ignored Reyn's challenge of him as he stepped around the Elderling to glare menacingly at Leftrin. “She is obviously not right in her mind! Look how she stares! She does not recognize me, poor thing! And you, scoundrel, have taken advantage of her! Oh, my Alise, my darling, what has he done to you? How can you not recognize your own loving husband?”

She felt a low rumbling from Leftrin as if he snarled like a beast. His arm in her clutch had become hard as iron. He would protect her, he would save her. All she had to do was let him.

“No,” she said again, this time to Leftrin. She squeezed his arm reassuringly and then stepped out of his shelter. She stood free of him, and the wind off the river blew past her. Her unbound hair lifted in wild red snakes, and she knew a moment of dismay as she wondered how ridiculous she looked, her skin weathered, her woman's body garbed in the bright colors of an Elderling as if she did not know her age or her place in the world.

Her place in the world.

She squared her shoulders. As she walked forward, Reyn stepped toward her as if to offer her his arm and support. She waved him off without meeting his eyes. She advanced on Hest, hoping to see some flicker of doubt in his eyes. Instead his smile only widened as if he were truly welcoming her. He actually believed that she would resume that role, would pretend to be his loving, dutiful wife. That thought touched fire in her soul. She halted before him and looked up at him.

“Oh, my dear! How harshly the world has treated you!” he exclaimed. He tried to put his arms around her. She set both hands to his chest and pushed him firmly away. As he staggered backward, it pleased her that he had not expected her to be so strong.

“You are not my husband,” she said in a low voice.

He teetered a moment, then caught his balance. He tried to recover his aplomb. But she had seen the sparks of anger flare in his dark eyes. He tipped his head, solicitous, his voice stricken. “My dear, you are so confused!” he began.

She lifted her voice, pitched it for all to hear. “I am NOT confused. You are NOT my husband. You broke the terms of our marriage contract, rendering it void. From the earliest days of our marriage, you were unfaithful to me. You entered into the contract with no intent of keeping yourself to me. You have deceived me and made me an object of mockery. You are not my husband, and by the terms of our marriage contract, all that is mine comes back to me. You are not my husband, and I am not your wife. You are
nothing
to me.”

It was gratifying to see the surprise on his face. This was not what he had expected. He had thought to take control of her just as easily as he once had. But it was frightening, too, to watch the expression in his eyes shift. How quickly he reassessed the situation; how swiftly he found a new tactic and a new balance.

“Unfaithful? Me?” He stood taller. “How dare you! Would an unfaithful man have risked all to come this far to rescue you from this place? You! Traders of Bingtown and Trehaug, I call you to witness!” He spun back on the dumbfounded prisoners who were taking in the scene as if it were a puppet play. “This is my wife, Alise Finbok! I sent her, at her most earnest wish, to visit the Rain Wilds. How she became caught up in this expedition, I do not know, though I know that some of you were there when she embarked on it. I
do
know she is rightfully married to me, and if this beast has alienated her affection for me, then he must answer for it! Annul our marriage agreement she can, if that is truly her own heartfelt desire. I will set her free! But I have not violated our contract, and I will not be denied my rightful claim on properties she has acquired during our marriage!” He spun back and pointed a finger at Leftrin. “And you, scoundrel, do not think you will go unpunished for your part in this! You have stolen my wife's affection and alienated her from me. The Council shall sit in judgment on you. Prepare to forfeit every greasy coin, every bit of property, even that stinking barge you own for this grievous insult to me and my family.”