City of Dragons

“And some, perhaps, were imagining that the dragons would be rendered into very rare trade goods long before anyone found a place to settle them. Nothing in this contract dictates that we must share our discoveries with them. But I’ll wager that when you return, if you speak of what we’ve found, they’ll try to find a way to take it away from us.”

They’d been sitting together in the small shepherd’s hut they had claimed as their own. A fire burned on the hearth, its red flames waking echoing red lights in Alise’s curling hair. They’d raided blankets and other furnishings from his stateroom on Tarman to try to make their new lodgings as comfortable as they could, and Tarman had been surprisingly tolerant of his absence. Alise had relished their newfound privacy even if it was much less comfortable than living aboard the ship. Leftrin had cobbled together a roped bedstead for them, as well as a crude table and a bench for seating. But it was still a rough and bare retreat, and outside, the days of winter were growing colder and wetter. They’d been sitting side by side on the floor, close to the firelight, going over the pages of the contract they’d signed with the Cassarick Traders’ Council. Alise had leafed through it carefully, chalking notes to herself onto the hearth stones with the burned end of a stick. He’d been content to sit and savor watching her. He’d known then that soon he’d have to leave her, and while he didn’t expect it would be for long, he still dreaded any time apart from her.

When she had finally looked up from her study of the documents, her fingertips were black with soot and there was a stripe of it down her nose. He smiled. It made her look like a little striped ginger cat. She’d frowned at him in return and then tapped the contract with a businesslike finger. “There’s nothing here for us to fear. Nothing that we agreed and signed, and I looked over Warken’s keeper contract earlier. None of the keepers signed anything away; their contracts were all about how they must care for the dragons or forfeit their pay. There is no mention of them having to share anything they might find. Even your contract only stipulates that you are to keep a log; it doesn’t say that your notes on exploring the waterways will belong to the Council, or give them rights to anything we discovered. Including Kelsingra. No. They were in such a rush to be rid of the dragons that that was all they focused on. They wrote in penalties for you if you returned with the dragons and keepers, and they stipulated how much money they’d have to pay each keeper ‘with his or her dragon(s) safely settled and content.’ But nowhere did they provide for what they would ask of us if we were successful in finding Kelsingra. It’s odd. That omission didn’t seem so obvious or so dark when I was first reading it and signing it. But now it’s as plain as the ink on the page; they didn’t expect the keepers or the dragons to survive, and they never really expected us to find Kelsingra. At least, the official Council didn’t. I still think there were some who imagined riches to be discovered, and at least two Council members who were dismayed when I said I would come along and speak for the best interest of the dragons.”

“Well, there was one barge captain who was so thrilled at the thought that he didn’t notice if anyone else was opposing it.”

She’d pushed away his fingers that were curling her wayward hair into spirals, but her rejection was reluctant. “My love, we need to finish this tonight. I had only one piece of good paper left. I used half to write what I needed to tell Malta the Elderling. Do not let anyone else see it. I had to write in such tiny letters, I hope her eyesight is good! The other half sheet I used to make a document that authorizes you to collect the keepers’ pay for them. They’ve all signed. And so, on this scrap of hide, we will write out what we must try to bargain for and what we are willing to concede in return.” Her voice faltered a bit, and she cast her eyes down.

He had lifted her chin with his two fingers. “Never fear. I will not barter Kelsingra away. Little enough have we found on this side of the river that would interest the Traders, but I know your fears: that once they see the city, they will strip it to the paving stones.”

She nodded grimly. “As was done to the first Elderling cities that were discovered. So many mysteries would probably have been solved if all the pieces had been left in one place. Now the artifacts of Cassarick and Trehaug are scattered all over the world, in the hands of rich families and crafty merchants. But Kelsingra, the real Kelsingra on the other side of the river, gives us a new chance to discover who the Elderlings were, to understand and perhaps master the magic they used so freely-”

“I know.” He interrupted her gently. “I know, my dear. I know what it means to you, even if some of the youngsters do not understand. I’ll protect it for you.”

The buzz of confused conversation in the Council chamber drew his mind back to the present. The din did not die down but increased as the onlookers conversed with their neighbors and voices were raised to be heard over the rising hubbub. Trader Polsk stood and shouted for order; no one paid attention. Then, abruptly, the room was plunged into dimness. The suspended globes of light winked out, and only the red glow of the hearth fires lit the place. Every voice was stilled in shock.

Malta Khuprus’s words rang out in the darkness. “It is time for silence. Time for us to listen to Captain Leftrin rather than asking each other questions we cannot answer. Let us be orderly and hear him out as Traders should. The man speaks of a contract fulfilled, a just debt to be paid, and a possible threat to not only the dragons but a threat to all Rain Wilders as well. A Chalcedean plot carried out in the midst of the Rain Wilds? Let us hear him out.”

“Agreed!” shouted Trader Polsk when Malta paused, and a chorus of affirming voices answered hers. Whatever restorative magic Malta worked on the floating Elderling globes was successful. They brightened slowly to a warm glow that filled the chamber with a pleasant rosy light. Malta had left her seat in the darkness and now stood at the end of the Council table. Her pregnancy was obvious when she stood: her ripening belly interrupted the long, lean lines of her body. Leftrin felt she deliberately called attention to herself. A pregnant woman was not a rare sight in the Rain Wilds, but neither was it a common one. He knew that more than one person looked on her fecundity with envy. She let them.

“Captain Leftrin.” Trader Polsk’s tone demanded that he focus on the business at hand. “You’ve made a serious accusation. Have you evidence to offer?”

He took a breath. “Not as would satisfy the Council. I can repeat the words of the keeper Greft and tell you what Jess Torkef admitted to Sedric Meldar of Bingtown before he died. Torkef plainly said he had come in the hopes of killing dragons and selling off their parts, and he tried to persuade Sedric to join him in those plans. Keeper Greft was equally plain in telling us that Jess Torkef had tried to recruit him. I suggest that whoever hired the man and put him aboard my ship may have known that hunting meat to keep the dragons well fed was not the task closest to his heart. Before my barge even left, I received a threatening note, unsigned, but one that directed me to do all I could to aid him.”

“Do you have this note?” Polsk immediately demanded.

“No. It was destroyed.”

“How exactly were you threatened, Captain?” This from the young, orange-scaled Trader at the Council table. A small smile played across his face.

“I’m afraid I don’t recall your name, Trader,” Leftrin observed.

“Trader Candral.” Trader Polsk seized control of the discussion. “Please do not destroy the order of this Council by speaking out of turn. Do you have a question you wish to ask Captain Leftrin?”

Trader Candral was not pleased to be rebuked. Or perhaps he did not like being named to Leftrin. In either case, he leaned back in his chair and replied insolently, “I did have a question, and I’ve asked it. How was our captain threatened? And if the threat arrived before he sailed, why didn’t he report it before his departure?”

Trader Polsk narrowed her eyes but nodded permission to Leftrin to speak. He kept his eyes on her face as he replied. “It was blackmail. The note threatened to reveal certain pieces of personal information. I didn’t report it because I felt I could handle it, and the Council was already urging a more than speedy departure for us. Immediate, if I recall correctly.”

“The dragons were dangerous! They had to go!” This from a man in a heavy canvas jacket and trousers, standing to be heard. “Me and my boy, we ended up running for our lives, right into the excavations, and that little green dragon followed us, knocking out the supports as it came. It wanted our supper, even though it was just bread and cheese in a sack. It ate it sack and all, and might have eaten my boy next, except that we ran while it was eating! I’m here to say, if the dragons are gone, then good riddance. And if there’s any talk of them being brought back, then me and the other diggers will put our shovels down.” He crossed his heavy arms on his chest and scowled fiercely all around.

“No more outbursts!” Trader Polsk spoke severely to the man who had shouted out his tale. He sat down with an exasperated grunt, but the people around him were nodding in agreement.

“They’d have killed somebody if they hadn’t been lured away. They were always a poor bargain,” he added,