Robin Hobb - Blood of Dragons

The scaled youngster was silent, full of listening. Hest shot him an earnest look. ‘You’re lucky to be out here. I see how things are in this place. Oh, maybe it’s a thin, bare life here, but you can love who you want, and no one shames you. I’ve never had that. Never. Maybe if Sedric and I had been able to be open with everyone around us, maybe …’ He let his voice die away and shook his head regretfully. The boy leaned closer. Such an easy target. Young and still inexperienced, his heart freshly broken. Hest wanted to smile. Could he take a better vengeance on Sedric and his damned Carson than seducing this boy? He looked at Davvie with wounded eyes. ‘I tried to give him a good life with me, as much as I could manage. We travelled a great deal together. And when we were in town, there were many evenings with our friends. Fine wine, good food, wonderful fellowship.’ He shook his head sadly. ‘I thought it would be enough for him. I shared with Sedric all I had, introduced him to a life he had never known. We would go to the theatre together. Or go out riding. Or simply to a tavern to drink ale and listen to music. Every night we were together, experiencing all that a city has to offer young men.’ He broke off to look at the boy more closely. ‘Have you ever been to Bingtown? Or any large city?’

Davvie shook his head. ‘Carson was teaching me to be a hunter and a trapper. Now that I got a dragon of my own, I’m a keeper. I wanted to be a keeper mostly so I could stay with Lecter. But now that he’s thrown me over, and my dragon is all busy with other things, I’ve wound up with nothing.’ He lifted a hand and touched his own cheek. ‘Don’t think I’ll ever visit Bingtown or any other city looking like I do. I’d be a freak there now.’

‘A freak?’ Hest laughed heartily. A few heads turned his way and he quieted. Attention from anyone other than Davvie was not what he wanted. ‘No, my young friend. Not a freak. An Elderling. Rarest of the rare and honoured wherever you might go. Why, everyone knows the names of Malta and Reyn Khuprus! They stayed for a time at the Satrap’s court in Jamaillia and were honoured with balls and feasts every day they were there. Showered with gifts and attention! I have no idea why they chose to go back to the Rain Wilds.’

‘The dragons needed them,’ the young man said, surprised that Hest didn’t know such things.

‘Ah, of course. They did. But your dragon, you say, does not? So are you not free to go where you will?’ Hest pushed a hand through his dark hair, tousling it slightly. He tapped his fingertip on his lips, drawing the boy’s eyes to his face. ‘You’re a handsome fellow, and wealthy. You could travel to the city. Or anywhere. See more of the world. The right companion could show you off, teach you everything you’d need to know to fit in there. Introduce you to people who would appreciate you. After all, you can’t mean to spend the whole of your life here, can you? You’re much too young and too wealthy to settle in one spot.’

Davvie gave a snort of laughter. ‘Wealthy? Me? I’ve the clothes on my back. A knife. My own bow. Little enough beside that.’

Hest was astonished. ‘Young man, wealth is all around you here. Surely you are entitled to a share of it? There is so much in this city that, presented to the proper buyer, would bring you a fortune. I see others wearing Elderling jewellery; why do you not?’ He touched the back of the boy’s ringless hand, drew his finger slowly away. ‘I’ll tell you this; a single Elderling bracelet would buy you a year of carousing in Bingtown. Easily.’

‘I’ve never worn jewellery.’

Hest feigned astonishment. ‘Never? Ah, but you should! A sapphire ring to match the scaling on your hand. Or—’ He lifted his hand and playfully tapped the boy’s ear, and then, as Davvie drew back at his touch, Hest used the motion as a way to trace his jaw-line with his forefinger. ‘Dangling earrings. Silver. Or rich gold to draw the eye to your face.’

‘I feel drained,’ Selden said, and managed a feeble smile at his joke.

‘This looks infected,’ Chassim replied tartly, glaring at his swollen wrist. The Duke’s teeth had broken his skin in the most recent session, and the flesh around it was hot and red.

Selden had not felt that bite as a separate pain. He’d lost consciousness early in the act and only recovered his awareness here in the tower room. Each time the Duke bled him, his stamina dropped. He did not look at his arm as she put a hot, wet cloth on it. A strong aroma of garlic rose from the poultice and he turned his head to avoid it.

‘Is it a pretty day out there?’ he asked inanely. Chassim had opened the shutters and a soft wind was blowing through the heavy curtains. Beyond their fluttering he glimpsed the stone balustrade of the balcony. Their new quarters were spacious and airy, with a wide view of the city and the surrounding countryside. Spring was coming, he thought and smiled weakly. Spring was coming and he was going.

‘Nice enough. Do you want your curtains opened? It’s clear but not very warm out there.’

‘Please. What’s the worst that can happen? I catch my death of cold?’

‘The infection will kill you first,’ she said bluntly.

‘I know how bad it is,’ he admitted. ‘It hurts and the healers told your father that next time he must take blood from my other arm, lest the infection spread to him. I’m not looking forward to that.’ His fingers twitched against his bedding as he thought of it. Bad enough to have the Duke break open the cut on his arm every few days. Adding another one was a whole new horror. ‘I’m dying,’ he said, trying the words aloud. ‘His drinking my blood is killing me.’

‘And every time he takes your blood, he seems to get stronger. He is so triumphant about it. It’s disgusting.’ She pushed the heavy curtains aside and tied them back. The sky was blue with puffs of white cloud in the distance. No mountains in this direction. The horizon stretched on to forever. The wind wandered into the room.

‘Maybe when I die, he will start to fail again.’

‘Maybe. I won’t live to find out. If you die, then I die, too.’ She came back to sit on a stool by his bed.

‘I’m sorry.’

She made a strangled noise. ‘Scarcely your fault that my father is killing you. Nor mine. I was born into this disaster. I’m sorry that you fell into it.’ She looked out of the window. ‘I’ve been thinking that if you die, I won’t wait for him to discover it and punish me for it.’ She nodded toward the balcony. ‘I may jump from there.’

‘Sweet Sa!’ Selden exclaimed in horror. He tried to sit up but he was not quite strong enough.

‘Not in despair, my friend. Just to make it harder for him to pretend I died a natural death. If I leap from here, it may be that some will see me fall. There are people who have pledged to avenge me if I die at my father’s hands.’

Selden felt far colder than he had before. ‘And your leaping will launch a wave of vengeance?’

‘No,’ she continued to look at the sky. ‘I hope to avert it. There was a time when I wanted people to know what he had done to me; I dreamed they would all rise up and avenge my death. Now I think about it like ripples ringing out from a dropped stone. Do I want my death to result in misery and death for others? Or would I rather slip away at a time of my choosing?’ She reached over and took his good hand without looking at him. ‘I don’t really want to die at all,’ she confided to him in a whisper. ‘But if I have to, I’m not going to let him be the one to make me die. I’m not going to wait here alone, wondering if he will torture me first.’ She finally made eye contact with him and tried for a faint smile. ‘So, when you go, I’ll go, too.’