5.Death of Chaos
CXXVI
FROM THE OLD stone bench outside the guest quarters, I looked out at the clear blue waters of the Eastern Ocean, at the puffy clouds over the water, and at the single steamer puffing eastward through the afternoon toward Nordla.
My stomach growled, reminding me that it had been a long time since breakfast. “I'm hungry. Do you want to eat in the Brotherhood halls?”
“Do you?” countered Krystal.
“Not really, but we have to eat somewhere.”
“I'm not hungry...”
“Like at breakfast? We haven't eaten since then.”
Eventually we walked back down toward the harbor, and I was glad I'd brought my staff. We passed a store with the name “Brauk Trading” painted on the glass. The doors were bolted, but two men inside were carrying things to a wagon by the side door.
“Deception, again,” Krystal said. “No one says anything, but those who are favored get the word.”
“Let's see.”
We kept walking along the waterfront, the stores on our right, the harbor to the left, past a door with just a crossed candle and a rose on the sign, but it was bolted shut, and no one was there. The next place, a coppersmith's, was open, and a small white-haired man sat in the back at a bench. No one else was in the shop.
Beyond the coppersmith's was a narrow alley. A handful of traders were loading a line of wagons.
“... can't take it all, Dergin...”
“... take what we can... won't be gravel left here tomorrow...”
“... shut up and load... want to get my ass clear...”
Anger began to rise, both in me and in Krystal. We exchanged glances and walked on, past more shuttered stores. Then we turned around and walked back to the coppersmith's.
Inside the doorway were a pair of kettles on an old table, both with curved spouts and green porcelain handles.
We walked past the kettles toward the coppersmith, except I stopped to look at a pair of hinges on the wall shelf. Each was shaped like a beast I'd never seen, with a long neck, and the hint of scales, furled wings, four claw-tipped legs, and a barbed tail.
“Fearsome creature,” said Krystal.
“That be the dragon, Lady Blade, or that is what the fellow who drew it for me claimed.” The smith barely reached Krystal's shoulder. “Everyone looks at them, but”-he shrugged- “no one wants them.”
“Have you heard about the battle tomorrow?” I asked gently.
“Some nonsense about a fleet from Hamor. Yes, I've heard it.” The coppersmith shook his head.
“It's true,” Krystal said. “There may not be much left of Nylan by tomorrow night or the night after. The Hamorians have mighty cannon.”
“I've heard those sorts of tales for months, Lady Blade.” The coppersmith gave a faint smile. “And if this time, they be true, then they be true. I am too old to cart everything off into the hills, and then back.” He shrugged. “All gone. My son, my daughter, they never came back. Ellyna, she's been gone for years. I have the shop. And if I don't... then what?” I tried not to swallow. So did {Crystal.
“Please... be not sad, Ser Mage.” His eyes flicked to the staff.
“I'm also a woodcrafter,” I said almost in protest. For us not to be sad was easy enough for him to say. We'd both seen what a handful of Hamorian ships had done to Ruzor, and there were easily ten times that many likely to be turning their cannon on Nylan.
“Your kindness... that I appreciate. Many have walked past, and said nothing.” He licked his lips. “I am not without some wit. When traders unload their stores and cart them off, they do so only in times of peril. What can I unload? Two kettles, ingots of copper and tin, and a pair of dragon hinges that have watched buyers for years?”
“You should leave.” Krystal looked at the smith with the thinning white hair.
“Had you come twenty years ago, Lady, I would.” He grinned at me, and I had to grin back. “Now... I am content.”
“Hamor will destroy the city,” I said gently.
“As times have changed, it may be no great loss, ser.”
I tried not to wince, even though that thought had crossed my mind at points. Recluce was no paradise, and the Council was certainly less than impressive. But... for most people, it was still better than what Hamor offered. Not much, perhaps, and that bothered me, too. “You could just take a long walk tomorrow,” I suggested.
“Perhaps I will, ser. Perhaps I will.”
But I could feel that he wouldn't. I looked back to the dragon hinges. Krystal nodded.
“How much for the hinges?”
“You may have them.”
“I couldn't do that.”
The old deep green eyes looked into mine. “I will make you a bargain. If the ships do not destroy Nylan, as you feel they will, then you return and pay me five silvers. If they do, then you must keep the hinges and put them on a chest for all to see. You do make chests?”
“I have made a few,” I admitted.
He nodded. “You measured them with your eyes, and you saw their use.”
I reached for my purse.
His frail hand touched my arm. “No. I trust you, and that trust is not misplaced. It is time for the dragons to fly.” He picked up a packet of cloth and walked to the shelf, carefully winding the soft gray cloth around the dragon hinges. Then he handed the package to Krystal. “On your blade. Lady, and both your spirits.”
Krystal took the cloth-wrapped dragons, but we just stood there.
“Now... you must go.”
The little smith practically pushed us out of the shop, and we let him. Then he said, “Take care of my dragons.” And he closed the door.
We just stood there for a long moment.
I swallowed, and my stomach growled, and then I flushed.
“You're upset,” Krystal said, “and you're embarrassed.”
“Yes. It just seems like the innocent get hurt, those and the helpless. I couldn't make him leave. If we can't protect Hamor, then he won't have anything left anyway. I don't know. The traders will be fine. So will the Brotherhood, one way or another.” I stopped and just let myself feel. “You're angry, too.”
“Yes.”
I took her hand, and my stomach growled again.
“And you're hungry, still,” she pointed out. “What about there?”
At the end of the crossroad was a small cafe, one dark oak door open. We walked down a hundred cubits or so, and I peered in the open door.
“You want dinner?” asked a slender young man, setting down a chair. “All we have is whitefish, and you will have to eat quickly. We are packing up the kitchen, but Mama would not turn away someone hungry.” He grinned, revealing enormous and wide-gapped front teeth. “Or with coins.”
“We'll eat quickly.”
“Not too quickly. You must enjoy it, and the fish-it would not keep anyway.” He led us across a half-empty floor to a corner booth. Scuffs in the oak showed where more tables had been. The booth had dark leather upholstered benches. As we sat, he added, “I'll bring you some ale.” Then he glanced at my staff. “Is greenberry all right? The redberry keg is sealed.”
“Fine.”
He darted off, scooping up two chairs as he went.
“I wonder how good it will be. They're certainly packing up.” Krystal stifled a yawn.
“You're tired.”
“So are you.”
“Here you go.” The young fellow had already scurried back with two mugs and two pitchers, and was gone with another pair of chairs.
I poured mugs for each of us, and we'd barely taken a full swallow when he'd returned with a huge loaf of golden bread. “No spreads or conserves, but it's fresh.”
Off he went with the last pair of chairs, only to come back with a woman, who smiled as they picked up a table and eased it through the double doors.
I broke off a corner of the bread. He'd been right. The bread was fresh enough that it still steamed, and both Krystal and I began to eat, trying to ignore the dismantling of the cafe as we munched through about half a loaf.
“Here's the fish, and there's even some beans. I forgot about them.”
We looked at two huge platters heaped with whitefish under a cream sauce.
“Darkness... I... there's so much...”
“Don't worry. We would have had to throw it out. So you got it all. What you can't eat the dog will.” And he raced off again.
At that we laughed and began to eat. The fish was good, the sauce even better, better even than at the Founders' Inn.
“Makes me feel... I don't know...”
“Because it's something else good that's going to be destroyed?” asked Krystal.
“I think so.”
“Me, too.” Krystal pushed the platter back.“I'm full, and I can't eat any more.”
I couldn't, either. We'd each eaten perhaps half of our platters. I looked around, but I didn't look long because the young fellow came hustling back in. I waved.
“How did you like it?”
“It was wonderful, maybe the best I've ever had,” I admitted. “How much do we owe you?”
“I don't know. Usually, it's about five coppers, but you get more, and there's more of a choice...”
“Here.” I handed him two silvers. “It's a meal we won't forget.”
He just looked at the coins.
“Call it a gift from the dragons,” Krystal added impishly.
“Thank you. Thank you.”
“Just get on with saving the place for others,” I said as we left, but he was already carting out some large kettles to the overflowing wagon in the back alley.
Somehow, with all my traveling, I'd only found two places where hospitality wasn't determined totally by coins- Kyphros, and I thought of Barrabra, and Recluce, where we had just gotten a wonderful meal even while the owners were trying to save their cafe. Maybe that showed that any country that fostered even some of that deserved saving. I hoped so.
The sun was touching the Gulf of Candar when we walked back up to the guest quarters. Unlike the port section below, the Brotherhood grounds were scarcely deserted, with dangergelders sitting on the walls and benches.
“... leave at dawn...”
“... sleep in... no big problem...”
“... you want to tell that to Cassius?”
“He's the real black mage-black all over.”
“There they are... she's the head of the forces of Kyphros... Trehonna says he's one of the great gray mages, built a mountain once...”
I tried not to pay any attention as eyes turned on us.
“... feeling a little modest, dear?” whispered Krystal.
“What about you?”
We both blushed and kept walking until we were inside our room. I set my staff in the corner, and Krystal unbelted her blade.
“I ate too much.”
“It was good, though.”
We sat on the edge of one of the single beds. Krystal unwrapped the dragons.
“They are beautiful, if strange,”
They were beautiful, and I could see them on a dark oak chest, one with no ornamentation except for a bronze latch.
Thrap!
“Come in,” I called. “It's unbolted.”
Tamra opened the door and stepped inside. Weldein followed her and closed the door behind them.
“I thought I heard you two. What are those?” Tamra stepped up and peered at the hinges.
“Hinges. Shaped like dragons.”
“What's a dragon?” asked Weldein.
“I don't know,” I admitted. “But the crafter who made them called them dragons.”
“Dragons?” Tamra frowned, then cleared her throat. “One reason I came by was to tell you that your father thinks the Hamorian ships will arrive early tomorrow morning. He thinks we should all be.up at the western end of the black wall just before dawn.”
“Before dawn. All right.” That was fine with me, since I wasn't sure how I would sleep anyway. Or how well. “Where are they?”
“How would I know? He said he'd see us in the morning.” Tamra glanced back at the dragons. “What are you going to do with those?”
“Put them on a chest.”
“Always thinking about crafting, isn't he?”
“Not always. Sometimes...” I shook my head. I didn't want to explain anything to Tamra, about old coppersmiths or good people trying to pack up a cafe or traders ignoring their neighbor. Tamra had to make her decisions about Recluce without my explanations.
“Well...” Tamra said gently. “We'll leave you two. Dawn will come early.”
“Too early,” added Weldein.
The door closed, and Krystal and I turned to each other.
“She sees more than you think, Lerris. She's just afraid people will use it against her.”
I thought. Krystal was right. Once, on the ship to Freetown, Tamra had admitted to me that she was scared. Of course, she'd accused me of being scared first, and I'd reacted to that, rather than to her admission. “You're right.” Then I put my arms around Krystal. “That's one reason why I love you.”
“That's one reason why I love you. Beneath that stubborn outside, you do listen.”
Outside, the leaves rustled as the wind picked up in the early evening.
After a moment, Krystal added,“We haven't seen Justen or Dayala or your parents. And Tamra said she hadn't, either.”
“That bothers me.” I could sense that it bothered Krystal, too, but I wasn't about to go around pounding on doors and asking them why I hadn't seen them that afternoon or evening.
I yawned, then grinned. Krystal was yawning also.
“I suppose we should try to sleep.”
“I suppose so.”
She slowly pulled off her boots, and so did I, and after we undressed, I turned off the lamp.
Outside, the fall winds rustled the trees, and mixed with the rustling of young voices. Had we ever been that young? I almost snorted, but Krystal elbowed me gently.
Neither one of us wanted to talk about the morning, and we didn't, but we knew what awaited us. We didn't go to sleep easily or early, just held tightly to each other.