Robin Hobb - City of Dragons

“He’s leaving!” the Council member at Polsk’s side hissed, and then to the guard he shouted, “Don’t let them untie! Hold on to their mooring lines; don’t let them get away.”

“Abandon the lines if you have to,” Leftrin suggested without worry. The forward lines were already snaking aboard, and Swarge was at the tiller sweep. The guardsman with the pike had stepped up to guard the aft line. Big Eider shrugged, shaking his head at the waste, and stooped down to unfasten the moorage line from Tarman ’s cleat. He tossed it overboard and Tarman floated free. “To your poles!” Swarge sang out, and the crew moved as if they had one mind.

“ Tarman ?” Leftrin pleaded quietly, and the liveship responded with an unseen but powerful kick of his hidden hind legs. Leftrin was glad he was holding on to the railing. Big Eider gave a whoop of surprise and staggered sideways as the barge surged forward. The cries of amazement from the watching guardsmen were both satisfying and alarming. Leftrin took pride in his modified liveship’s abilities, but also usually took care to keep Tarman ’s differences secret. Ever since the true origin of wizardwood had been acknowledged, any usage of it by humans had not only been frowned upon but forbidden by Tintaglia. That the dragons he had escorted up the river accepted Tarman was something that he had attributed to Mercor’s tolerance. He never wished to have it become common knowledge. “Enough, ship,” he suggested quietly, and though Tarman continued to paddle, he did so discreetly, only enough to make it appear that his crew was exceptionally rather than supernaturally talented.

“We’ve got followers, Captain,” Hennesey called to him.

Leftrin turned to see and uttered a curse. The mate was right. Either the Council had not believed their City Guard was sufficient to the task, or several small boat owners had decided that following the Tarman might lead them to a real prize. The way rumors spread in any Trader city, Leftrin was not surprised that lesser Traders might have heard that the Tarman expedition had found Kelsingra but refused to disclose the location. Doubtless they thought to follow him tenaciously until he betrayed his destination. And he was just as confident that they would fail. He grinned. “Keep your distance from them but there’s no need to—”

He had not time to finish his words. Tarman took matters into his own keeping. This time it was not his feet but a strategic lash of his hidden tail that roiled the river’s surface and set the smaller boats to rocking wildly in his wake. For just an instant, his tail was visible as it moved just beneath the gray river water. Then the liveship shot forward as the smaller vessels struggled to avoid being swamped by the waves he had stirred. Some did not succeed at that, and Leftrin winced in sympathy. There’d be some scalded sailors when they scrambled out of the water.

The surge of speed nearly knocked Tarman ’s crew off their feet. He arrowed upriver, and the cries of amazement from all witnesses made Leftrin wince. There’d be little denying it now; some would work it out all too quickly. Just as well that he and Tarman did not expect to return to any of the Rain Wild cities before late spring. Perhaps by then, rumor and speculation would have died down.

But as Tarman moved steadily against the current, the remnants of the flotilla of small boats still attempted to follow in his wake. Hennesey came to consult with him. “Think they’ll try to board us?”

Leftrin shook his head. “It’s all they can do to keep pace with us now. And when darkness falls, they’ll be blinded. They’ll have to tie up for the night. We won’t.”

“You think Tarman can find his way up the river in the dark?”

Leftrin grinned at him. “I have no doubt of it.”

“And so we’re away on another adventure,” Malta said. Her voice shook. She cleared her throat, pretending that it had been something else, but Reyn put his arm around her.

“Perhaps we are, my dear. But this time, we are together. All three of us.”

Tillamon made a small sound as she lifted the canvas flap and angled under it to join them. “Four, if you’ll count me,” she said. She was smiling widely, and there was a light in her eyes that Malta could not understand.

“You’re not frightened?” she asked her sister-in-law. “We’ve no idea where we are going or how far. Captain Leftrin says there will be hardship and cold in the days to come. We’re leaving our home behind for Sa knows how long. But you’re smiling?”

Tillamon laughed out loud and tossed back her veil. When was the last time anyone had seen that smile? It made the row of dangling growths along her jawline jiggle. “Of course I’m frightened! And I’ve no idea what we are heading into. But Malta, I’m alive! I’m moving out into the world, on my own. And from what Reyn told me, I’m headed toward a city and a little colony of people where I’ll no longer have to wear a veil or hear muttered remarks as I pass. Leaving my home behind? Perhaps I’m leaving my mother, but I think she’ll understand. And I feel as if I’m headed toward my home rather than leaving it behind.”

She settled herself on the deck beside Ephron’s box-bed and tenderly smiled down on the waking baby as he stirred. “May I hold him?” she asked eagerly.

The sun was hastening toward the hill line as Heeby carried them back across the river. The wind was pushing clouds to fill up the evening sky, and the damp breeze swished past Thymara’s face, but only her cheeks burned with cold. Even her feet and calves, clad in the scaly Elderling shoes, remained warm. And the fabric of her footwear seemed to help her cling more tightly to Heeby’s sleek sides. She held tight to the sides of Rapskal’s Elderling garment, their backpack of looted artifacts sandwiched between them. She bowed her head against the wind’s rough kiss, putting her brow against Rapskal’s back. She thrust her fear down and focused her eyes and her thoughts on the comforts that they were bringing to their fellows. She doubted that every keeper would find a gown or tunic or trousers to fit, but enough would benefit that their worn clothing could be shared generously with the ones who could not find Elderling garb to cover them. Tonight, everyone would be a bit more comfortable, thanks to her and Rapskal.

As if he could read her mind, Rapskal called over his shoulder, “You know that Alise isn’t going to like this. She’s going to say that we should have left everything exactly as it was, for her to record before we moved it. She may even try to make us put it all back where it was.”

“I’ll talk to her,” Thymara promised him confidently. Despite the difference in their ages, she and Alise were friends. She had felt awkward around the older woman at first, but Alise’s admiration for her hunting and fishing skills had won her over. Thymara was not sure how she would react to the pristine Elderling goods that they were bringing back now. She did not think Alise would agree that sharing them with the keepers would be the best use of them. But she herself wore an Elderling garment from the ruins of Trehaug. Surely she would not be hypocritical enough to forbid the same comfort to the keepers.

“They’re waiting for us!” Rapskal spoke loudly over the wind. “Look!”

She lifted her head and peered down through squinting eyes. Yes, keepers were gathering on the riverbank, and even a few of the dragons were strolling down. Golden Mercor was already there. His head was lifted and he peered up at them. “They must have been worried about us!” she called to Rapskal.

“Silly of them. We can take care of ourselves,” he declared grandly. She felt a rippling of unease to hear him set them apart from the others. He seemed to think that something had changed, something important. Had it? Did he take last night as some sort of declaration from her that she had chosen him? Had she?