Ship of Destiny (65 page)

“Would you care for a cup of tea?” Keffria asked in the courtesy of a bygone day. Then, with a nervous laugh, she turned to Rache. “That is, if we have any tea, or anything close to it?”

The serving woman smiled. “I am sure I can find some sort of leaves to steep.”

“I would love a cup of anything warm,” Jani replied. “The cold outside bites to my bones. Why must so harsh a winter descend in our most difficult time?”

They commiserated on that for a bit. Then Ronica rescued them from pointless pleasantries as Rache reappeared with the tea. “Well, let us stop being as nervous as if we do not well know why Jani is here. She has come to take Selden to the Rain Wilds when the
Kendry
sails tonight. I know Keffria has agreed to this, and it is what Selden wants. But . . .”

And there Ronica’s courage failed her. Her voice went tight on her closing words, “But I do hate to lose Selden. . . .”

“I wish you did not feel that way,” Jani offered. “That you are losing him, I mean. He comes with me now, for a time, because he genuinely believes he has a duty to help us in our preliminary work. Certainly, the Rain Wilds have marked him as their own. But that does not mean he is no longer a Vestrit. And in days to come, I hope for a time when Rain Wilds and Bingtown will mingle freely and often.”

That brought little response. “Selden is not the only reason I am here,” she added abruptly. “I also bring two offers. One from the Rain Wild Council. One from myself.”

Before she could go on, Selden opened the door. “I’m ready,” he announced with undisguised satisfaction. He came into the room dragging a lumpy canvas sack behind him and looked around at the gathered women. “Why is everyone so quiet?” he demanded. Firelight danced on his scaled cheekbones.

No one replied.

Jani settled herself in her chair and accepted the cup of tea that Rache poured for her. She sipped at it, seizing the moment to organize her thoughts. It tasted of wintermint, with a tang of niproot in it. “This is actually quite delicious,” she complimented them sincerely as she set the cup down. Her eyes traveled over the waiting faces. Keffria held her tea but had not sipped it. Ronica had not even picked her cup up. Jani suddenly knew what was missing. She cleared her throat.

“I, Jani Khuprus, of the Khuprus Family of the Rain Wild Traders, accept your hospitality of home and table. I recall all our most ancient pledges to one another, Rain Wilds to Bingtown.” As she spoke the old, formal words, she was surprised to feel tears brim in her eyes. Yes. This was right. She saw an answering sentiment in the faces of the Bingtown women.

As if it were a thing rehearsed, Ronica and Keffria spoke together. “We, Ronica and Keffria Vestrit, of the Vestrit Family of the Bingtown Traders, make you welcome to our table and our home. We recall all our most ancient pledges to one another, Bingtown to Rain Wilds.”

Keffria surprised them all when she spoke on alone. “And also our private agreement regarding the liveship
Vivacia,
the product of both our families, and our hope that our families shall be joined in the marriage of Malta Vestrit and Reyn Khuprus.” She took a deep breath. Her voice shook only slightly. “In sign of the link between our families, I offer to you my youngest son, Selden Vestrit, to be fostered with the Khuprus family of the Rain Wilds. I charge you to teach him well the ways of our folk.”

Yes. This was right. Let it all be formalized. Selden suddenly stood taller. He let go of his sack and came forward. He took his mother’s hand and looked up at her. “Do I say anything?” he asked gravely.

Jani held out her hand. “I, Jani Khuprus of the Khuprus family of the Rain Wilds, do welcome Selden Vestrit to be fostered with our family, and taught the ways of our folk. He will be cherished as one of our own. If he so wills it.”

Selden did not let go of his mother’s hand. How wise the boy already was! He instead set his free hand into Jani’s. He cleared his throat. “I, Selden Vestrit of the Vestrit family, do will that I be fostered with the Khuprus family of the Rain Wilds.” He looked at his mother as he added, “I will do my best to learn all that is taught me.

“There. That’s done,” he added.

“That’s done,” his mother agreed softly. Jani glanced down at the rough little hand she held. It had already begun to scale around the nail beds. He would change swiftly. It was truly for the best that he went to the Rain Wilds where such things were accepted. For an instant, she wondered what her young daughter Kys would think of him. He was only a few years older than she was. Such a match would not be unthinkable. Then she set aside the selfish thought. She lifted her eyes to meet Keffria’s bleak stare.

“You can come also, if you wish. And you, Ronica. That is my offer to you. Come up the river to Trehaug. I do not promise you that times are easier there, but you would be welcome in my home. I know you wait for news of Malta. I, too, await the dragon’s return. We could wait together.”

Keffria shook her head slowly. “I have spent too much of my life waiting, Jani. I won’t do that anymore. The Bingtown Council must be pushed into action, and I am one of those who must push. I can’t wait for ‘them’ to settle Bingtown’s unrest. I have to insist, daily, that all complaints be considered.” She looked at her son. “I’m sorry, Selden.”

He gave her a puzzled look. “Sorry that you will do what you must do? Mother, it is your own example I follow. I go to Trehaug for the same reason.” He managed a smile for her. “You let me go. And I let you go. Because we are Traders.”

There was a sudden loosening in Keffria’s face, as if an unforgivable sin had been expunged from her soul. She heaved a great sigh. “Thank you, Selden.”

“I, too, must stay,” Ronica said into the quiet. “For while Keffria is being the Trader for the Vestrit family, I must look after the rest of our interests. It is not just our home that was raided and vandalized. We have other holdings as well, similarly troubled. If we are not to lose them all, then I must act now, to hire workers who will labor for a share of next year’s crop. Spring will come again. Vineyards and orchards will put forth new leaves. Despite all our other troubles, those things must be anticipated.”

Jani shook her head with a small smile. “So I expected you to answer. Indeed, so the Rain Wild Council told me you would, when I told them of my plans.”

Keffria frowned. “Why would the Rain Wild Council have an interest in how we answered?”

Jani would keep it to herself that the Council had been as anxious as she to lay claim to Selden Vestrit. Instead, she told the rest of the truth. “They were anxious to avail themselves of your services, Keffria Vestrit. But for you to be effective, you would have to remain here in Bingtown.”

“My services?” Keffria was obviously astounded. “What services can I perform for them?”

“You may have forgotten or dismissed the last time you spoke to the Rain Wild Council. They have not. You were quite inspiring in your offer to risk yourself in the service of the Traders. As it was, the situation changed so swiftly that your sacrifice was not necessary. But the fact that you were willing to offer, as well as your clear grasp of the situation, left a deep impression on the Council. With all the changes now in the wind, the Rain Wild Council needs an official voice in Bingtown. When Traders such as Pols, Kewin and Lorek can all agree that you are the best choice to represent us, you must realize that you left a very favorable impression.”

A faint pink rose in Keffria’s cheeks. “But the Rain Wild Traders have always been free to speak in the Bingtown Council, just as any Bingtown Trader can claim the right to speak in the Rain Wilds. You do not need me as a representative.”

“We disagree. Changes are raining down swiftly; our communities will need to cooperate even more closely than we have in the past. Message birds can only fly so swiftly. Liveship traffic on the Rain Wild River has been reduced in these dangerous times, as all our ships patrol against Chalcedean vessels. Yet more than ever, we need a voice sympathetic to Rain Wild concerns here in Bingtown. We see you as the ideal choice. Your family is already strongly linked to the Rain Wilds. While we would ask you to seek our advice when you could, we would also trust you to speak out when an immediate voice was needed.”

“But why not one of your own, here in Bingtown?” Keffria hesitated.

“Because, just as you and your mother have told me, they need to remain close to their homes in this troubled time. Besides, in many ways,
you
are now one of our own.”

“It would be perfect, Mother,” Selden suddenly interjected. “For the dragon will need your voice here as well. You could help to make Bingtown see the necessity of aiding her, beyond any ‘agreement’ we have signed.”

Jani looked at him in surprise. Even in the well-lit room, she could see Selden’s eyes literally glowing with his enthusiasm. “But Selden, there may be times when the dragon’s interests are different from the Rain Wilds’ or Bingtown’s,” she cautioned him gently.

“Oh, no,” he assured her. “I know it is hard for you to believe that I know these things. But what I know goes beyond who I am, and back to another time. I have dreamed the city that Tintaglia spoke of, and it is grand beyond imagination. Compared to Cassarick, Frengong was humble.”

“Cassarick? Frengong?” Jani asked in confusion.

“Frengong is the Elderling name for the city buried beneath Trehaug. Cassarick is the city you will excavate for Tintaglia. There, you will find halls built to a dragon’s scale of grandeur. In the Star Chamber, you will discover a floor set with what you call flame jewels, in a mirror of the night sky on Springeve. There is a labyrinth with crystal walls, tuned to mirror the dreams of the ones who dare it; to walk its maze is to confront your own soul. Time’s Rainbow, they called it amongst themselves, for each person who completed it seemed to do so by a different route. Wonders are buried there and may be brought back to light. . . .” Selden’s voice trailed away in rapture. He stood breathing deeply in silence, his eyes looking afar. The adults exchanged looks over his head. Then he spoke again, suddenly. “The wealth the dragons will bring to us all will surpass mere coin. It will be a reawakening of the world. Humanity has become a lonely race, and dangerously arrogant in our solitude. The return of the dragons will restore balance to our intellect and to our ambitions.” He laughed aloud suddenly. “Not that they are perfect beings, oh, no. That is our value to one another. Each race presents to the other a mirror of presumption and vanity. In seeing another creature’s rash posturing of control and superiority in the world, we will realize how ridiculous our own claims are.”

Silence followed his words. The thoughts he had thrown out so casually echoed through Jani’s mind. His voice, his words had not the cadence or vocabulary of a child’s. Was this the dragons’ doing? What had they released back into the world?

“You have doubts now,” Selden spoke to her silent qualms. “But you will see. The welfare of the dragon is in the best interests of the Rain Wilds, as well.”

“Well,” Jani replied at last. “In that, perhaps, we shall have to trust to your mother’s judgment, as she represents us.”

“This is a weighty responsibility,” Keffria wavered.

“We are well aware of that,” Jani replied smoothly. “And such a task should not be undertaken without 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 jawline. “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 and ambitions with very few others.”

“You are telling me nothing with many words,” Paragon pointed out impatiently. “What, exactly, are you?”

She gave a small laugh that had no joy in it. “In a word, I do not know how to tell you. I have been called a fool as often as I have been called a prophet. I always have known that there were things I must do for the world, things no one else could do. Well. The same is true of every man, I do not doubt. Yet I follow a path I cannot see clearly. There are guides along the way, but I cannot always find them. I set out seeking a slave boy with nine fingers.” She shook her head. He felt it.

“I found Althea instead, and though she was not a boy nor a slave and had all ten fingers, I felt a connection through her. So I helped her. May the gods forgive me, I helped her seek her death. Then I encountered Malta, and wondered if she was the one I should have been aiding. I reach forward, Paragon, through mists of time to symbols that become people and people who teeter on the verge of legend. There is a task I must do here, but what it is remains cloaked from me. All I can do is push toward it, and hope that when the time comes, I will recognize it and perform the right actions. Although there is little hope of that now.” She took a breath. “Why are there dragons in you?” she demanded.

He felt that she changed the subject, deliberately. He answered her anyway. “Because I was meant to be dragons. What you call wizardwood is actually a protective casing that sea serpents weave about themselves before they begin their change into dragons. The Rain Wild traders came upon encased dragons in the ruins of an ancient city. They killed them, but used the casings, rich with dragon memories, to build ships. Liveships they call us, but we are truly dead. Yet while memory lives, we are doomed to a half-life, trapped in an awkward body that cannot be moved without the aid of humans. I am more unfortunate than most, for two cocoons were used in my construction. From the time I was created, the dragons within me have warred for dominance over each other.” He shook his great head. “I woke too soon, you see. I had not absorbed enough human memories to be strongly centered in them. From the time I first opened my eyes, I have been torn.”

“I do not understand. Why are you Paragon then, and not a dragon?”

He laughed bitterly. “What else do you think Paragon is, save a human veneer of memories over battling dragons? In quarreling with one another for mastery, they allowed me ascendance. When I say ‘I,’ I scarcely know what I mean.” He sighed suddenly. “That was what Kennit gave me, and what I shall miss most. A sense of self. A sense of kinship. When he was aboard me, I had no doubts as to my identity. You see him as blood-shedding pirate. I recall him first as a wild and lively boy, full of joy in the wind and waves. He laughed aloud, swung in the rigging and would not leave me alone. He refused to fear me. He was born aboard me. Can you imagine that? The only birth I have ever known was able to obliterate all the deaths that had gone before it. His father offered him to me, his birth-blood still on his skin. ‘You’ve never been my ship, Paragon. Not in your heart. But perhaps you can be his as he is yours.’ And he was. He kept the dragons at bay. You, you have loosed them, and now we must all bear the consequences.”

“They seem quiet. Dormant,” Amber ventured. “You seem very much yourself, only more—open.”

“Exactly. Cracked open and leaking my secrets. What are you doing?” He had thought she was inspecting for fire damage. He had expected her to spider along his hull, not walk all over his body.

“Keeping my word, to you and to the dragons. I’m going to carve some eyes for you. I’m trying to decide where to begin to repair this.”

“Don’t.”

“Are you sure?” Amber asked him quietly. He sensed her dismay. She had promised this to the dragons. What would she do if Paragon forbade it now?

“No. I mean, don’t repair my face. Give me a new one. One that is all of me.”

For a mercy, she did not ask him what he meant by that. She only asked, “Are you sure?”

He pondered a moment. “I think . . . I do not want to be a dragon. That is, I do, but I wish to be both of them, if I must. And yet to be Paragon as well. To be, as you said, three merged into one. I want . . .” He hesitated. If he said it and she laughed, it would be worse than death, as life was always sharper and harder than death. “Give me a face you could love,” he quietly beseeched her.

She went still and soft in his hands. The tension he had sensed thrumming through her muscles went away. He felt her do something, and then her bared hands danced lightly over his face. By her touch, she both measured him, and opened herself. Skin to skin, she hid from him no longer. He touched enough to know it was the bravest thing she had ever done. He stifled his curiosity and tried to reciprocate her trust. He did not reach into her and plunder her of her secrets. He would wait, and take only what she offered him.

He felt her hands walk his face, measuring off proportions. Then she touched his cheek flat-handed. “I could do that. It would, in fact, be easy.” She cleared her throat. “It will be a lot of work, but by the time we sail into Bingtown again, you will wear a new face.”

“Bingtown?” He was astonished. “We’re going home?”

“Where else? What point is there in challenging Kennit again? Vivacia seems content to be in his hands. And even if she were not, what could we do?”

“But what about Althea?” he objected.

Amber stopped what she was doing. She leaned her forehead against his cheek and shared the full depth of her misery. “All of this was about Althea, ship. Without her, whatever task I was to perform becomes meaningless. Brashen has no heart to continue, nor has this crew the mettle for vengeance. Althea is dead and I have failed.”

“Althea? Althea is not dead. Kennit took her up.”

“What?” Amber stiffened. She set her hands flat to his face.

Paragon was amazed. How could she not know that? “Kennit took her up. The serpent told me so. I think he was trying to make me angry. He said Kennit had stolen two of my humans, both females.” He halted. He felt something radiating from her. It was as if a shell around her cracked open; warmth and joy poured from her.