recompense.' She hesitated. 'At the beginning, we would be hard pressed to pay you in coin. Until trade with the outside world is restored, I fear we must go back to bartering.' She glanced about the room. 'Household goods we have in plenty. Do you think we could work out a suitable exchange?'
A spark of hope kindled in Ronica's eyes. 'I am sure we could,' Keffria replied almost immediately. With a rueful laugh she added, 'I can think of no household goods that we could not find a use for.'
Jani smiled, well-pleased with herself. She had feared it would seem too much as if she were buying Selden from his family. In truth, she felt she had struck that best of all bargains, the one in which each Trader felt she had won the best of the trade. 'Let us make a list of what you need most,' she suggested. She set a hand on Selden's shoulder, taking care that it did not seem too possessive. 'When we reach Trehaug, Selden can help me select what he thinks will suit you best.'
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE – Refitting
'SO. BACK ON THE BEACH AGAIN,' PARAGON OBSERVED.
'Not for long,' Amber assured him. She set her gloved hand briefly to his deck. It was a gesture of kindness, but a gesture only. She had slept deeply for a long time and he had looked forward to her awakening, to the sense of connection they had briefly shared. But that was not to be. He could not reach her, and could scarcely feel her. He was as alone as ever.
Brashen no longer trusted him. Paragon had tried to tell him that there was no damage below the waterline, but Brashen had insisted on beaching him. The captain had apologized stiffly, but said he would do the same with any ship as damaged as he was. Then he had run Paragon's scorched body up onto a sandy beach. The tide had retreated, stranding him there with most of his hull bared. At least he was out of reach of the serpent and his endless circling. The creature's nagging him toward revenge was maddening.
Brashen had tersely told what remained of the crew to make repairs. He stalked the deck, commanding with his presence but speaking scarcely a word, and the work proceeded, even if the men moved without spirit. The spare mast had been brought out and stepped. Shackles and fittings had been salvaged, sound bits of line spliced together and spare canvas and other supplies dragged out onto the deck. Ruined food stores were dumped over the side. The broken windows in the captain's quarters were planked over. A crew had been sent ashore to cut timber for spars. The green lumber would be miserable to work with, but they had no alternative. There was no chatter, no chantey, no jesting. Even Clef was withdrawn and silent. No one had attempted to scrub the bloodstains from his deck. They walked around them, or stepped over them. The serpent venom had left pits and indentations in his wizardwood. It had stippled his face and left streaks down his chest. More scars for him to bear.
Amber, clothed in a loose garment made from a sheet, had toiled alongside the others, until Brashen had brusquely ordered her to take some rest. For a time, she had lain silently in her bunk. Then she had arisen, as if she could not bear to be still. Now she sat on the foredeck, laying out tools for her next task. She moved awkwardly, favoring the burned side of her body. He had become accustomed to her verbally sharing all she was doing, but today she was quiet. Paragon felt her preoccupation, but could not fathom it.
Kennit and the Vivacia were gone as if they had never been there. Only one serpent remained of the horde that had attacked him. The mild days since the storm's passing made it all seem like a dream. But it was not. The dragons lurked in him, just below the surface. New blood marked his deck. Some of the crew were angry with him still. Or frightened. Sometimes, with humans, it was hard to tell the difference. It stung most that Amber was distant with him.
'I couldn't help it,' he complained again.
'Couldn't you?' Amber asked him unemotionally.
She had been like that all afternoon. Not accusing him, but not accepting anything he said either. His temper snapped. 'No. I could not! And since you've pawed through my memories, you should understand that. Kennit is family to me. You know that now. You know everything now. All the secrets I vowed I would keep safe for him, you have stolen.'
He fell silent, guilt roiling through him again. He could not be true. If he was true to Kennit, he was disloyal to both Amber and his dragon selves. Kennit was family to him, yet he had once again failed in his promise to him. He was disloyal and wicked. Worse, he was relieved. His feelings spun like a weathervane. He had not truly wanted to die, nor to kill all his people. Amber should know that. She knew everything now. There was shameful comfort in sharing the terrible knowledge, for he was glad that someone else finally knew it all. A childish part of him hoped that now she would tell him what he should do. For too long, he had wrestled with these secrets, not knowing what to do with such frightening and shameful memories. Hiding them for so long should have made them go away, should have made them not matter. Instead they had festered like a boil, and just when he had a new life, the old wound had burst open and poisoned everything. It had nearly killed them all.
'You should have told us.' Her words came out stiffly, as if she wished to hold them back. 'All this time, you knew so much that could have helped us, and you kept it to yourself. Why, Paragon? Why?'
He was silent for a time. He could feel what she was doing. She was securing a line to a cleat. She tested her weight against it. Then she came to the railing and climbed stiffly over it. She dropped over the bow, swung across in front of him and without warning, landed light-footedly against his chest. His hands came up reflexively to catch her. She froze in his grip, then spoke resignedly. 'I know. You could kill me right now, if you chose. But from the beginning, we've had no choice but to trust our lives to you. I had hoped that trust went both ways, but obviously, it didn't. You've shown you're capable of killing us all. That being so, I see no sense in fearing you anymore. Either you'll kill us or you won't. You've shown me I've no control over that. All I can do is keep my own life in order, and do what I am meant to do.'
'Perhaps that is all I can do as well,' he retorted. He made his hands a platform for her to stand on, just as he had done for the boy Kennit so many years ago.
She seemed to ignore his words. Her gloved hands moved lightly over his face, not just fingering his new scars, but touching his cheeks, his nose and his beard.
He could not leave the silence alone. 'That night, you loved me. You were willing to lose your life to save mine. How can you be so angry at me now?'
'I am not angry,' she denied. 'I cannot help but think that it all could have turned out differently. I am… hurt. No. Stricken. By all you did not do when we did all we could for you. At all you held back from us. And probably the depth of that feeling has much to do with how much I do love you. Why couldn't you have trusted us, Paragon? If you had shared your secrets, it all could have come out differently.'
He considered her words for a time while she poked at his neck and jaw-line. 'You are full of your own secrets,' he suddenly accused her. 'Things you have never shared with the rest of us. How can you despise me for doing the same?'
Her tone was suddenly formal. 'The secrets I hold are mine. My keeping them does no harm to anyone.'
He picked up her doubts. 'You are not sure of that. My secrets were as dangerous to share as they were to hold. But, as you said, my secrets were mine. Perhaps the only thing in the world that were truly mine.'
She was silent a long time. Then, 'Where are the dragons? What are the dragons and why are there dragons in you? Are you why I have dreamed of serpents and dragons? Were my callings actually bringing me to you?'
He pondered a moment. 'What will you trade me for an answer? A secret of your own? To show you are trusting me as much as I am trusting you.'
'I do not know if I can,' Amber replied slowly. She had stopped touching his face. 'My secrets are my armor. Without them, I am very vulnerable to all sorts of hurts. Even hurt that folk do not intend.'
'See. You do understand,' he replied quickly. He felt that barb score.
She took a breath, and spoke quickly, as if plunging into cold water. 'It is hard to explain. When I was much younger, and I spoke of it, people thought that I was too full of myself. They tried to tell me that I could not be what I knew I was. Finally, I ran away from them. And when I did, I promised myself that I would no longer fear what other folk thought of me. I would keep to myself the future I knew lay ahead of me. I have shared my dreams
