Robin Hobb - Dragon Haven

A thought light as wafting bulrush down floated into her mind. “Perhaps she could not use her glamour before. Perhaps she grows stronger in many ways, not just physically, as she challenges herself.”

She had whispered the words aloud. Was the thought hers, or had she, briefly, touched minds with one of the other dragons? That question was as disturbing as the thought itself. Was Sintara acquiring more of the powers that legends associated with dragons? Were the other dragons? And if so, how would they use them? Would their keepers be blinded by glamours, to become little more than fawning slaves?

“It doesn’t work that way. It’s more like a mother loves a wayward child.” Again she spoke the words aloud. She stopped, just beneath the eaves of the forest, and shook her head wildly, making her black braids whip against her neck. The small charms and beads that adorned them snapped against her neck. “Stop it!” she hissed at whoever was invading her thoughts. “Leave me alone.”

Not a wise choice, but the choice is yours, human.

And like a gauzy mantle lifting from her head and shoulders, the presence was gone. “Who are you?” she demanded, but whoever it had been was gone. Mercor? She wondered. “I should have asked that question first,” she muttered to herself as she entered the thick shade of the forest. In the dimmer light, Greft’s trail was not as easy to follow, but he had still left plenty of signs. And she had not gone far before she no longer needed to bother with tracking him. She heard his voice, his words indistinct, and then another voice in reply to his. Jerd, she thought. They must be hunting together. She went more slowly and quietly, and then came to a complete halt.

Sintara had all but insisted she follow them. Why? She suddenly felt very awkward. How would it seem to them if she suddenly came up on them? What would Jerd think? Would Greft see it as her admitting he was a better hunter than she was? She moved up into a tree and began to traverse from branch to branch. She was curious to see if he’d made a kill yet and if so, what he’d taken down, but she had no desire for them to know she was there. Their voices came more clearly, a scattering of words. Jerd said she “didn’t understand” and there was anger in her voice. Greft’s voice was deeper and harder to follow. She heard him say, “Jess isn’t a bad man, even if he” and then his words were too soft to follow. She edged closer, thanking Sa for the black claws she dug in to the slippery bark. She changed trees again, moving from one thick branch to another, and then she was suddenly looking down on Jerd and Greft.

They weren’t hunting. She doubted they had been hunting. It took a long moment for her mind to make sense of what her eyes saw. They were naked and lying next to each other on a blanket. Their discarded clothing was draped on nearby bushes. Greft’s scaling was blue and covered far more of his body than Thymara had ever suspected. He was turned away from her as he reclined. In the dim light of the forest, he looked like a large lizard trying to find a sunning spot. What little light there was touched the long line of his hip and thigh down to his knee.

Jerd faced him. She lay on her belly, her chin propped on her elbows. Her bushy blond hair was even more disorderly than usual. Greft’s hand was on her bare shoulder. Her body was long and slender, and the line of greenish scaling down her spine suddenly seemed beautiful to Thymara. It gleamed in the dim light, a rivulet of emerald shining down her back. Her legs were bent at the knee, and her heavily scaled calves and feet gently waved in the air as she replied to Greft. “How could you even suggest it? It is exactly the opposite of what we promised to do.”

He shrugged one naked shoulder, making the light move in a sapphire line on his back. “I don’t see it that way. No keeper claimed that dragon. No one is bonded to her. She’s nearly dead. The other dragons can eat her when she dies and get some nourishment and a few memories. Dumb as that copper dragon is, chances are she doesn’t have many memories at all. But, if we can persuade the dragons to let us have her carcass, or even part of it, Jess could turn it into some solid wealth that would benefit all of us.”

“But that’s not—”

“Wait. Let me speak.” He set a finger to her lips to quench her protest. She bridled, turning her head away from his touch, but he only chuckled. Thymara, watching them, could not decide what was more shocking: their nakedness or the topic of their conversation. They could only have been doing one thing. One forbidden thing. But Jerd seemed irritated, almost angry with him, and yet she so casually stayed next to him. Greft caught Jerd’s jaw in his fingers, turned her face back to him. She bared her teeth at him and he laughed outright.

“You are such a child sometimes.”

“You didn’t treat me like a child a little while ago!”

“I know.” His hand moved down the side of her neck and he slipped it under her body. He was touching her breast. Jerd’s bared teeth changed to a very peculiar smile and she stretched, moving herself against Greft’s hand. Shock and a strange thrill ran through Thymara. Her breath caught in her throat. Was that what it was like? She had thought of sex as something that belonged only to adults, and only to those fortunate enough to have normal bodies. Now as she watched Jerd rub herself against Greft’s touch, a peculiar envy awoke in her. Jerd had obviously just taken this for herself. Or perhaps Greft had begun it, tricking her or forcing her? No. The look she was giving him now was all too knowing. An unsettling warmth was infusing Thymara’s own body. She couldn’t look away.

Greft seemed to have forgotten entirely that he had been speaking. Jerd suddenly wiggled aside from his touch and demanded, “You were saying? You were trying to justify selling dragon parts to the filthy Chalcedeans, I believe.”

He made a small noise in his throat, and then pulled his hand back to his side. His voice was husky when he spoke. “I was trying to explain that we will need money if my dream for us is to come true. I don’t really care where it comes from. I know where it won’t come from. Neither the Bingtown Traders nor the Rain Wild Traders will want to help us establish a town of our own. Both groups see us as abominations. They were glad to see us leave Trehaug and even gladder that we took the dragons with us. They don’t expect us to return; they don’t expect us to survive.

“And if we do find Kelsingra do you think they’ll respect it as ours? No, Jerd. If we find Kelsingra and there are any Elderling artifacts left there, you can bet the Traders will claim them for themselves. I’ve seen Captain Leftrin at work, charting the path we’ve taken. There’s only one reason for him to do that. It’s so that if we find something valuable, he can return to Trehaug and tell the Traders. And they’ll know how to come back and find us and take it away from us. And we’ll be on the outside again, the leftovers, the rejects. Even if all we find is a piece of land large enough for dragons to survive on, we won’t be safe. How long have the Traders been looking for arable land? Even that they would take from us. So we have to think ahead. We all know that Cassarick and Trehaug depend on outside trade for survival. They dig up Elderling treasure and sell it through the Bingtown Traders. They can’t feed themselves. Without Elderling stuff to sell, it would all have fallen apart years ago. But what will we have? Nothing. Maybe, if we find solid ground, we can build something for ourselves and our children. But even if all we plan to do is grow crops, we’ll still need seed and tools. We’ll need to build homes for ourselves. And we’ll need money, solid coin, to buy what we need.”