The Rain Wild Chronicles: The Complete 4-Book Collection. Robin Hobb
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supply packs were barely worthy of the name. The canvas bags were roughly sewn and treated with some sort of wax to weatherproof them. Inside were an adequate blanket, a water skin, a cheap metal plate and a spoon, a sheath knife, and packets of cracker-bread, dried meat and dried fruit. ‘It makes me glad I brought my own supplies from home,’ Thymara commented thoughtlessly, and then winced at the look on Tats’ face.
‘Better than nothing,’ he commented gruffly, and Rapskal, who had attached himself to them like a tick on a monkey, added enthusiastically, ‘My blanket’s blue. My favourite colour. How lucky is that?’
‘They’re all blue,’ Tats replied, and Rapskal nodded again.
‘Like I said. I’m lucky my favourite colour is blue.’
Thymara tried not to roll her eyes. It was well known that some who were heavily marked by the Rain Wilds had mental problems as well. Rapskal might be a bit simple, or simply have an aggressively optimistic outlook. Right now, his cheerfulness bolstered her courage even as his chattiness grated on her nerves. She was baffled by how easily he had attached himself to her and Tats. She was accustomed to people approaching her with caution and maintaining a distance. Even the customers who regularly sought out her family at the market kept her at arm’s length. But here was Rapskal, right at her elbow. Every time she turned to glance at him, he grinned like a twig monkey. His dancing blue eyes seemed to say that they shared a secret.
They squatted in a circle on a patch of bare earth, twelve marked Rain Wilders, most in their teens, and Tats. They’d come all the way down to the ground to receive their supply packs. The contents, they’d been told, should sustain them for the first few days of their journey. They’d be accompanied upriver by a barge that would carry several professional hunters with experience in scouting unfamiliar territory and more supplies both for humans and dragons, but each dragon keeper should attempt to learn to subsist on his own resources as well as maintain his dragon’s health as quickly as possible. Thymara was sceptical. As she studied those who would become her companions, she speculated that few of them had ever had to find their own food, let alone consider feeding a dragon. Uneasiness churned in her belly.
‘They told us we were to help our dragons find food. But there’s nothing in here that’s useful for hunting,’ Tats observed worriedly.
A girl of about twelve edged a bit closer to their group. ‘I’ve heard they’ll give us fishing tackle and a pole spear before we depart,’ she said shyly.
Thymara smiled at her. The girl was skinny, with thin hanks of blonde hair dangling from a pink-scaled scalp. Her eyes were a coppery brown, probably on the turn to pure copper, and her mouth was nearly lipless. Thymara glanced at her hands. Perfectly ordinary nails. Her heart went out to the girl abruptly; she’d probably seemed almost normal when she was born and had only started to change as she edged into puberty. That happened sometimes. Thymara was grateful that she had always known what she was; she’d never had real dreams of growing up to marry and have children. This child probably had. ‘I’m Thymara, and this is Tats. He’s Rapskal. What’s your name?’
‘Sylve.’ The girl eyed Rapskal, who grinned at her. She edged close to Thymara and asked even more quietly, ‘Are we the only girls in the group?’
‘I thought I saw another girl earlier. About fifteen. Blonde.’
‘I think you might have seen my sister. She came with me, to give me courage.’ She cleared her throat. ‘And to take the advance on my wages home. Money won’t be any good to me where we’re going, and my mother is very sick. It might get her the medicines she needs.’ The girl spoke with unselfconscious pride. Thymara nodded. The thought that she and Sylve might be the only females unnerved her a bit. She covered it by grinning and saying, ‘Well, at least we’ll have each other for intelligent conversation!’
‘Hey!’ Tats protested, while Rapskal peered at her and said, ‘What? I don’t get it.’
‘Nothing to get,’ she reassured him. Then turned to Sylve and rolled her eyes in Rapskal’s direction. The other girl grinned.
Sylve sprang suddenly to her feet. ‘Look! They’re coming for us, to take us to see the dragons.’
Thymara came to her feet more slowly. Her pack from home was already on her back. She slung the supply pack they’d issued her over one shoulder. ‘Well, I guess we should go,’ she said quietly. Involuntarily, she glanced up the trunk toward the canopy top and home. She was surprised but not shocked to see that her father had lingered and was watching her from the wide staircase that wound up the tree’s immense trunk. She waved at him a final time and made a small shooing motion for him to go home.
Tats had followed the direction of her glance. He waved wildly at her father and then impetuously shouted up to him, ‘Don’t worry, Jerup! I’ll watch over her!’
‘You’ll watch over me?’ she scoffed, uttering the words loud enough that she hoped they’d reach her father’s ears. Then, with a final wave, she turned and trooped after the others. They were headed for the river dock, and the boats that would carry them upstream from Trehaug to Cassarick and the dragons’ hatching grounds.
‘He doesn’t feel right to me.’
Leftrin scratched his cheek. He needed to shave, but lately his skin had begun to scale more on his cheekbones and the angle of his jaw. Scales he could live with, if they’d hurry up and grow in. Whiskers and a beard annoyed him. Unfortunately, trying to shave near scales usually resulted in lots of nasty little cuts.
‘He’s just not his old self.’
The two comments in swift succession was as good as a speech coming from Swarge. Leftrin shrugged at the tillerman. ‘He’s bound to be changed. We knew that going in. He knew it and accepted it. It was what he wanted.’
‘Are you sure of that?’
‘Of course I’m sure. Tarman’s my ship, the liveship of my family. The bond is there, Swarge. I know what he wants.’
‘I been on his decks close to fifteen years. No stranger to him myself. He seems, well, anxious. Waiting.’
‘I think I know what that’s about.’ Leftrin stared out over the ship’s wake in the river. Overhead, the stars shone in a wide path of open sky. To either side of them, the tall trees of the Rain Wilds leaned in curiously. It was a peaceful time. From the riverbanks came the usual night sounds of creatures and birds. Water purled past the Tarman’s hull as the barge made his way steadily upriver. From the deckhouse, yellow lanternlight shone. The crew was at their evening meal. The clack of crockery, the mutter of conversation, and the smell of fresh coffee drifted out to him. Bellin said something, and Skelly laughed, a warm and gentle sound in the night. Big Eider’s chuckle was a deep undercurrent to their merriment.
Leftrin ran his hands slowly over Tarman’s railing. He nodded to his tillerman. ‘He’s fine. He knew there would be changes.’
‘I been having dreams.’
Leftrin nodded. ‘Me, too.’
A slow smile spread across the tillerman’s face. ‘Wish I could fly.’
‘So does he,’ Leftrin agreed. ‘So do we.’
‘Why did you have to book passage on this ship?’ Sedric demanded abruptly.
Alise looked at him in surprise. They stood together on the deck, leaning on the railing and watching the thick trunks of the immense Rain Wilds trees slip past them in a never-ending parade. Some ancient giants were as big around as watch towers. Strange, how they made the other behemoths look small. Draperies of vine and curtains of lacy moss hung from their outstretched branches, weaving the trees together in a seemingly impenetrable wall. Beneath the canopy of foliage and moss, the forest floor looked swampy and dismal, a land of endless shadow and secretive light.
She had come out on the deck to enjoy the short span of daylight hours. Although the river flowed through a wide swampy valley,