City of Dragons

‘Do as you please and I’ll do the same,’ the dragon replied. ‘And what should please you right now is that you go hunting. I’m hungry.’ She gave the girl a mental push.

Thymara narrowed her eyes, aware that the dragon had used her glamour on her. It didn’t matter. She would still be nagged with an urgent desire to go hunting. Being aware of the source of that suggestion would not make her immune to it.

The winter rains had prompted an explosion of greenery. The tall wet grasses slapped against her legs as they waded through it. They had climbed the slope of the meadow and now the open forest of the hillside beckoned. Beneath the trees, there would be some shelter from the rain, although many of the trees here had lost their foliage. The forest seemed both peculiar and familiar to Sintara. Her own life’s experience had been limited to the dense and impenetrable forest that bordered the Rain Wilds River. Yet her ancestral memories echoed the familiarity of woods such as this. The names of the trees – oak and hickam and birch, alder and ash and goldleaf – came to her mind. Dragons had known these trees, this sort of forest and even this particular place. But they had seldom lingered here in the chill rains of winter. No. For this miserable season, dragons would have flown off to bask in the heat of the deserts. Or they would have taken shelter in the places that the Elderlings created for them, crystal domes with heated floors and pools of steaming water. She turned and looked across the river to fabled Kelsingra. They had come so far, and yet asylum remained out of reach. The swift-flowing river was deep and treacherous. No dragon could swim it. True flight was the only way home.

The ancient Elderling city stood, mostly intact, just as her ancestral memories had recalled it. Even under the overcast, even through the grey onslaught of rain, the towering buildings of black and silver stone gleamed and beckoned. Once, lovely scaled Elderlings had resided there. Friends and servants of dragons, they had dressed in bright robes and adorned themselves with gold and silver and gleaming copper. The wide avenues of Kelsingra and the gracious buildings had all been constructed to welcome dragons as well as Elderlings. There had been a statuary plaza, where the flagstones radiated heat in the winter, though that area of the city appeared to have vanished into the giant chasm that now cleft its ancient roads and towers. There had been baths, steaming vats of hot water where Elderlings and dragons alike had taken refuge from foul weather. Her ancestors had soaked there, not just in hot water, but in copper vats of simmering oils that had sheened their scales and hardened their claws.

And there had been … something else. Something she could not quite recall clearly. Water, she thought, but not water. Something delightful, something that even now sparkled and gleamed and called to her through her dim recollection of it.

‘What are you looking at?’ Thymara asked her.

Sintara hadn’t realized that she had halted to stare across the river. ‘Nothing. The city,’ she said and resumed her walk.

‘If you could fly, you could get across the river to Kelsingra.’

‘If you could think, you would know when to be quiet,’ the dragon retorted. Did the stupid girl not realize how often she thought of that? Daily. Hourly. The Elderling magic of heated tiles might still work. Even if it did not, the standing buildings would provide shelter from the incessant rain. Perhaps in Kelsingra she would feel like a real dragon again rather than a footed serpent.

They reached the edge of the trees. A gust of wind rattled them, sending water spattering down through the sheltering branches. Sintara rumbled her displeasure. ‘Go hunt,’ she told the girl, and strengthened her mental push.

Offended, her keeper turned away and trudged back down the hill. Sintara didn’t bother to watch her go. Thymara would obey. It was what keepers did. It was really all they were good for.

‘Carson!’

The hunter held up a cautioning hand, palm open, toward Sedric. Carson stood his ground, staring up at the blue-black dragon. He was not speaking but had locked gazes with the creature. Carson was not a small man, but Kalo dwarfed him to the size of a toy. A toy the infuriated dragon could trample into the earth, or melt to hollowed bones with a single blast of acid-laced venom. And Sedric would be able to do nothing about it. His heart hammered in his chest and he felt he could not get his breath. He hugged himself, shivering with the chill day and with his fear. Why did Carson have to take such risks with himself?

I will protect you. Sedric’s own dragon, Relpda, nudged him with her blunt nose and her thoughts.

He turned quickly to put a restraining hand on her neck as he tried to force calm on his own thoughts. The little copper female would not stand a chance if she challenged Kalo on Sedric’s behalf. And any challenge to Kalo right now would probably provoke an irrational and violent response. Sedric was not Kalo’s keeper, but he felt the dragon’s emotions. The waves of anger and frustration that radiated from the black dragon would have affected anyone.

‘Let’s step back a bit,’ he suggested to the copper, and pushed on her. She didn’t budge. When he looked at her, her eyes seemed to spin, dark blue with an occasional thread of silver in them. She had decided Kalo was a danger to him. Oh, dear.

Carson was speaking now, firmly, without anger. His muscled arms were crossed on his chest, offering no threat. His dark eyes under his heavy brows were almost kind. The wet wind tugged at his hair and left drops clinging to his trimmed ginger beard. The hunter ignored the wind and rain as he ignored the dragon’s superior strength. He seemed to have no fear of Kalo or the dragon’s suppressed fury. Carson’s voice was deep and calm, his words slow. ‘You need to calm down, Kalo. I’ve sent one of the others to find Davvie. Your own keeper will be here soon, to tend your hurts. If you wish, I will look at them now. But you have to stop threatening everyone.’

The blue-black dragon shifted and scintillations of silver glittered over his scaling in the rain. The colours in his eyes melted and swirled to the green of copper ore; it looked as if his eyes were spinning. Sedric stared at them with fascination tinged with horror. Carson was too close. The creature looked no calmer to him, and if he chose to snap at Carson or spit acid at him, even the hunter’s agility would not be enough to save him from death. Sedric drew breath to plead with him to step back, and then gritted his teeth together. No. Carson knew what he was doing and the last thing he needed now was a distraction from his lover.

Sedric heard running feet behind him and turned to see Davvie pelting toward them as fast as he could. The young keeper’s cheeks were bright red with effort and his hair bounced around his face and shoulders. Lecter trundled along in his wake though the soaked meadow grass, looking rather like a damp hedgehog. The spines on the back of his neck were becoming a mane down his back, twin to the ones on his dragon, Sestican. Lecter could no longer contain them in a shirt. They were blue, tipped with orange, and they bobbed as he tried to keep up with Davvie, panting loudly. Davvie dragged in a breath and shouted, ‘Kalo! Kalo, what’s wrong? I’m here, are you hurt? What happened?’

Lecter veered off, headed toward Sestican. ‘Where were you?’ his dragon trumpeted, angry and querulous. ‘Look, I am filthy and bruised. And you did not attend me.’

Davvie raced right up to his huge dragon with a fine disregard for how angry the beast was. From the moment the boy had appeared, Kalo’s attention had been fixed only on him. ‘Why weren’t you here to attend me?’ the dragon bellowed accusingly. ‘See how I am burned! Your carelessness could have cost me my life!’ The dragon flung up his head to expose the raw circle on this throat where Mercor’s acid had scored him. It was the size of a saucer.

Sedric flinched at sight of the wound, but Davvie went pale as death.

‘Oh, Kalo, are you going to be all right? I’m so sorry! I was around the river bend, checking the fish trap, to see if we’d caught anything!’

Sedric knew about the fish trap. He’d watched Davvie and Carson install it yesterday. The two baskets were fixed on the ends of arms that rotated like a wheel propelled by the current. The baskets were designed to scoop fish from the water and drop them down a chute into a woven holding pen. It had taken Davvie and Carson several days to build it. If it worked, they were going to build more to try to lessen the burden of constantly hunting for food for the dragons.

‘He wasn’t checking the fish trap,’ Carson said in a low voice as he joined Sedric. Kalo had hunkered down and Davvie was making worried sounds as he examined the dragon’s spread wings for any other injury. Lecter, looking guilty, was leading Sestican down to the river to wash him.

Sedric watched the lad surreptitiously adjust his belt buckle. Carson was shaking his head in displeasure but Sedric had to grin. ‘No. They weren’t,’ he concluded.

Carson shot him a look that faded the smile from his face.

‘What?’ Sedric asked, confused by the severity of his expression.

Carson spoke in a low voice. ‘We can’t condone it, Sedric. Both boys have to be more responsible.’

‘We can’t condone that they’re together? How can we condemn it without being hypocrites?’ Sedric felt cut by Carson’s words. Did he expect the boys to conceal that they were infatuated with one another? Did he condemn their openness?

‘That’s not what I mean.’ The larger man put a hand on Sedric’s shoulder and turned him away from Kalo. He spoke quietly. ‘They’re just boys. They like each other, but it’s about physical discovery, not each other. Not like us. Their sort of games can wait until after their chores are done.’ The two men began to trudge up the hill through the soaking grass. Relpda followed them for a few steps and then abruptly turned and headed toward the riverbank.

‘Not like us.’ Sedric repeated the words softly. Carson looked sideways at him and nodded, a small smile curling the corners of his mouth and igniting flames in Sedric’s belly. Sedric hoped that Carson’s direction meant they were bound for their cottage. The small chill structure of bare stone with the flagged floor was little better than a cave, but at least the roof shed rain and the chimney drew well. If they built up a blazing fire in the hearth, it was almost comfortably warm. Almost. He thought of other ways to stay warm there.

As if he could read Sedric’s mind, Carson said, ‘Some chores won’t wait. We should go up to the forest and see if we can find more dry deadfalls. That green wood you were trying to burn last night was all smoke and no heat.’ He glanced back at Davvie and Lecter. Kalo had crouched low and stretched out his neck so the boy could examine the acid scald on his neck. Under the boy’s touch, the great beast had calmed and seemed almost placid.

‘He’s a much better match for Kalo than Greft was,’ Sedric observed.

‘He could be, if he tried a bit harder.’ It was always hard for Carson to praise the lad. He loved Davvie like a son and made a father’s effort to hold him to the highest standards. He looked away, shaking his head. ‘I understand he and Lecter are infatuated with each other but that still doesn’t excuse either of them neglecting their duties. A man tends to his responsibilities first and his pleasures later. And Davvie is old enough now that I expect him to act like a man. The survival of this expedition is going to depend on each of us pulling his fair weight. When spring comes, or when we get fresh supplies, then Davvie can relax a bit and indulge himself. But not until then. Both of them have dragons to see to every day, before they think of anything else.’

Carson intended no rebuke for him with the words, Sedric knew. Nonetheless, there were times when he felt more keenly his own lack of useful skills. As useless as teats on a bull, his father used to say of people like him. It’s not my fault he assured himself. I’m just a fish out of water here. Were I to abruptly transport Carson to the sort of society I was accustomed to in Bingtown, he would be the one to feel useless and ill at ease. Was it truly a fault that Sedric would have been more competent at choosing a series of wines to complement a banquet, or giving a tailor instructions on how a jacket was to be altered rather than swinging an axe to render a dead log into firewood or cutting an animal up into pieces that would fit in a pot? He didn’t think so. He was not a useless or incompetent person. He was simply out of his area of expertise. He looked around himself at the rainy hillside and the looming forest. Far out of his area of expertise.

And weary of it. He thought of Bingtown with longing. The clatter and chatter of the market place, the city’s wide, flagged streets and well-kept manor houses, its friendly taverns and teashops! The open circuit of the market, and the cool shade of the public gardens! What would Jefdin the tailor think to see his best customer in rags? He suddenly longed for mulled wine and spices in a nice warm mug. Oh, what wouldn’t he give for one meal that wasn’t cooked over a hearth fire? One glass of good wine, one piece of bread? Even a bowl of simple hot porridge with currants and honey. Anything that wasn’t game meat or fish or gathered greens. Anything that was the slightest bit sweet! He’d sacrifice anything for one well prepared meal served on a plate at a table with a cloth!

He glanced at Carson walking beside him. His cheeks were ruddy above his carefully trimmed beard, his dark eyes brimming with his concerns. A recent memory intruded. Carson sitting on a low stool, his eyes closed, his expression that of a stroked cat as Sedric used a small comb and tiny scissors to shape his beard to his face. He had been still and obedient, turning his head only as Sedric bade him, rapt as he basked in his attention. To see the powerful man quiescent under his touch had filled Sedric with a sense of mastery. He had trimmed Carson’s wild mane as well, but not too much. Strange to admit that part of the hunter’s attraction for him was his untamed aspect. He smiled to himself, a small shiver of recalled pleasure standing up the hair on his neck and arms. Well, perhaps there was one thing Sedric would not be willing to sacrifice to return to Bingtown!

He contrived to brush shoulders with Carson as they walked. The hunter grinned and immediately threw his arm around Sedric. No hesitation. Sedric’s heart gave a bump. Hest would never have shown him such casual affection in public. Nor in private, if he was truthful. Carson tightened his hug and Sedric leaned into his embrace as they walked. The hunter was solid and muscular; it was like leaning on an oak. Sedric smiled to realize that he thought of his lover in such terms. Maybe he was becoming accustomed to living here in the wilds. Carson’s coarse cloak and his bound hair smelled of woodsmoke and man. Silvery glints of scaling were starting to show at the corner of his eyes. His dragon was changing him. Sedric liked the way it looked.

Carson rubbed his upper arm. ‘You’re cold. Why don’t you have your cloak on?’

Sedric’s original cloak was long gone, eaten by the acid waters of the Rain Wild River. The garment Carson was referring to was a roughly tanned deer hide with the hair still on it. Carson himself had skinned it off the animal, tanned it and cut it to shape. It tied around Sedric’s neck with leather thongs he had sewn onto it. Sedric was accustomed to furs that were soft and lined with fabric. This cloak was slightly stiff, the skin side of it a creamy colour. It crackled when he walked. Deer hair was not fur: it was stiff and bristly. ‘It’s so heavy,’ Sedric replied guiltily. He would not mention that it smelled like, well, like a deer hide.

‘Indeed it is. But it would shed the rain and keep you warmer.’

‘It’s too far to go back for it now.’

‘Yes. But gathering firewood will warm both of us.’

Sedric didn’t reply that he could think of better ways to warm them both. He was not a lazy man, but he had an aversion to the hard physical labour that Carson routinely accepted as his life. Before Alise had kidnapped him on her crazed adventure up the Rain Wild River, Sedric had always lived as befitted a young Bingtown Trader, even if his family had not been all that well-to-do. He’d worked hard, but with his mind, not his back! He’d kept accounts, both for the household and for the many business contracts that Hest negotiated for his family. He had minded Hest’s wardrobe and overseen his social appointments. He had passed Hest’s instructions on to the household staff, and dealt with their complaints and questions. He’d kept track of the arrival and departure dates of the ships in the harbour, making sure that Hest had the pick of incoming cargos and that he was the first to contact new merchants. He had been essential to the smooth running of Hest’s household and business. Essential. Valued.

Then a memory of Hest’s mocking smile confronted and scattered his warm memories of that time. Had any of his life truly been the way he thought it was? he wondered bitterly. Had Hest valued him for his social and organizational skills? Or had he simply enjoyed the use of Sedric’s body, and how well he endured the humiliations that Hest heaped on him? He narrowed his eyes against the sting of the lancing rain. Had his father been right about him? Was he a useless fop, fit only to fill the fine clothes that his employer paid for?

‘Hey. Come back.’ Carson shook his shoulder gently. ‘When you get that look on your face, it bodes no good for either of us. It’s done, Sedric. A long time over and gone. Whatever it was. Let it go and stop tormenting yourself.’

‘I was such a fool.’ Sedric shook his head. ‘I deserve to be tormented.’

Carson shook his head and a touch of impatience came into his voice. ‘Well, then stop tormenting me. When I see that look on your face, I know you’re thinking about Hest.’ He paused suddenly, as if he’d been on the verge of saying something and then changed his mind. After a moment, he said with forced cheer, ‘So. What brought him to mind this time?’

‘I’m not missing him, Carson, if that’s what you think. I’ve no desire to return to him. I’m more than content with you. I’m happy.’