The Blood of a Dragon

Chapter Eleven

Dumery sat on the slope above the dock, to one side of the road, and stared disconsolately at the river.

The World was going about its business all around him, albeit in a more leisurely fashion than a city boy like himself was accustomed to. Travelers were crossing the bridge in both directions, on foot or horseback, or riding in wagons and ox-carts, and the soldiers were collecting tolls from all of them. Boats of various sizes and shapes were moving up and down the river, some powered by sails, some by oars, most by magic. Some had tied up to the dock; some had departed.

Dumery just sat, staring at theSunlit Meadows and plotting out possibilities.

What if he headed to Sardiron of the Waters overland? There must be a land route, after all. Could he meet the boat there, in Sardiron, and pick up the dragon-hunter’s trail?

Probably not; he suspected that the boat would get there by water much more quickly than he could on foot, particularly if it used magical propulsion. The boat didn’t look as if it could hold enough men to work all those sweepswithout magic.

And if Sardiron of the Waters was anything like Ethshar, he might not be able to find the right dock even if he got there in time. Ethshar of the Spices was the largest city in the World, yes, but Sardiron was surely good-sized itself.

Besides, he didn’t even know whether the man in brown was really going to Sardiron. It seemed likely, but what if he were planning to disembark somewhere along the way? The boat probably didn’t just run from the bridge to Sardiron, but made stops at other places along the river.

For that matter, he wondered if this was as far downstream as it came. It was low enough to fit under the central arch of the bridge, certainly. It might have gone all the way to Ethshar itself.

If so, though, why hadn’t the man in brown boarded it there?

Well, maybe this particular vessel didn’t go that far. After all, Ethshar wasn’t on the river, it was on the south side of the bay, and the river emptied into the northwest corner, if Dumery remembered his lessons correctly, where the water was all shoals and shifting sandbars. Getting across the bay wouldn’t be easy sailing.

But even if thiswas as far downstream as theSunlit Meadows went, that still didn’t mean that it wouldn’t make stops on its way north.

Maybe, Dumery thought, he could ask the boat’s crew where the man in brown was going. They might know. They might even be willing to tell him.

Just as that thought occurred to him, he felt something like tiny fingers grabbing at his arm. He turned his head, startled, to look for the cause.

The spriggan grinned up at him. “Found you!” it said. “We have fun, yes?”

“No,” Dumery said. “Go away!”

“Aw,” the spriggan said, “we havefun!”

“No,” Dumery repeated. Before the spriggan could reply, he demanded, “Whatare you, anyway? Where did you come from?”

“Me, spriggan!” the creature said. “Came from magic mirror, me and all the others.”

“A magic mirror?” Dumery asked, intrigued.

“Yes, yes,” the spriggan agreed. “Mirror!” It mimed staring at a glass, its eyes bulging absurdly.

“Where?” Dumery asked. “Where was this magic mirror?” He remembered that the very first place he had glimpsed a spriggan had been in Thetheran’s laboratory; had that despicable wizard created these little nuisances?

The thing developed an expression of comical and complete bafflement. “Don’t know,” it said. “Not good at places.”

“In Ethshar?” Dumery persisted.

The spriggan thought about that for a moment, then said, “Don’t think so.”

“Then how did you get here?” Dumery asked. “I saw a couple of you... you spriggans in the city before I left, I think.”

“Yes, yes!” it said enthusiastically. “All over, now. Go on ships and in wagons and ride everywhere we can!”

“Oh,” Dumery said. He considered this for a moment, then asked, “Why?”

“Havefun!” the spriggan explained. “Spriggans have lots of fun! You and me,we have fun, now!”

“No,” Dumery said, losing interest.

“Fun!” the spriggan repeated.

Dumery just stared at it, silently.

It stared back.

After a long moment the spriggan realized that Dumery wasn’t going to say anything more.

“Havefun!” it repeated.

Dumery just stared.

The spriggan looked up at him for a minute longer, then said, “You no fun.” It kicked Dumery’s leg and walked away.

The kick didn’t hurt; in fact, Dumery hardly felt it. All the same, he was tempted to swat the stupid little creature.

He didn’t; he just stared after it as it stamped off.

When he looked back at the dock he saw the tillerman on theSunlit Meadows casting off a final hawser. While Dumery had talked with the spriggan the crew had been readying the boat for departure.

“Hai!” he shouted, jumping up and running down the slope. “Hey, wait!”

His feet pounded on the planks, and one popped up beneath him and tripped him.

He fell sprawling.

When he lifted himself up again theSunlit Meadows was well clear of the dock, the sweeps working steadily, propelling it upstream. Dumery could see no one aboard paying any attention to him, or to anything else the boat was leaving behind.

In fact, he couldn’t see much of anyone aboard save for the man at the tiller; the sweeps were working by themselves, by magic-or at least by some completely invisible force-and everyone else seemed to be belowdecks.

Dumery wanted to cry. The man in brown, the dragon-hunter, the key to his future, was aboard that boat.

And he, Dumery, wasn’t.

He looked around and saw a few miscellaneous people smirking at the pratfall he had just taken; he didn’t cry, but instead climbed solemnly to his feet. He brushed dust from his sleeves and pretended to ignore his surroundings, including the slow, uneven drumming noise that was coming from somewhere.

“Hai,boy,” someone called, “better look out behind you!”

Startled, Dumery turned and looked back at the land.

A small herd of cattle, perhaps a dozen head, was marching down the road toward the dock-straight toward him.

Dumery blinked, and started backing out further onto the dock, but then stopped.

That wasn’t going to work if the cattle were really going to charge right out; he would just be crowded off the end of the dock into the river. Since he didn’t know how to swim that was not a pleasing prospect-to say the least.

Instead he turned aside and jumped from the edge of the dock onto the deck of a convenient, if small, boat.

He misjudged his landing and sprawled once more. This time, when he lifted his head, he found himself looking at an old woman’s grinning face.

“Hello,” Dumery said.

“Hello yourself, boy,” the old woman replied gleefully.

“I, ah... I wanted to get out of the way,” Dumery explained as he shifted around into a sitting position.

“I gathered that,” the woman said, with a smile that exposed her two remaining teeth. “And you’re free to stay until the dock’s clear; I’m in no hurry.”

A possibility occurred to Dumery. He asked, “Where are you going, then?”

Perhaps he could beg a ride, if she were headed upstream, and maybe he could catch up with theSunlit Meadows somewhere.

“Downstream to Ethshar,” she said, dashing his hopes. “Got family there I haven’t seen since the third moon last rose.”

Dumery puzzled for a moment over that expression. He’d heard “when the third moon rises” used to mean “never,” but this was different. If there had ever actually been a third moon it had been gone for a thousand years or more, or so Dumery had heard, and this woman didn’t lookthat old, so he assumed it was a figure of speech.

It must just mean not for a long time, he eventually decided.

“Oh,” he said, disappointment plain in his voice.

“You were looking for a ride upstream?” she asked.

He nodded.

“Can’t help you there. You missed theSunlit Meadows, and by the look of you you couldn’t have afforded it anyway. Only other boat I know bound for the north is that cattle barge they’re loading, and I wouldn’t expect them to carry passengers.”

“Cattle barge?” That reminded him of what the crewman on theSunlit Meadows had said when Dumery had offered to work for his passage. He stood up and peered across the dock.

Sure enough, the cattle were being herded across a heavy gangplank onto a great flat-bottomed barge.

“That’s right,” the old woman said. “The lords up in Sardiron like to get their beef from the south. I’ve heard they think it’s better-tasting and more tender than the local meat.”

“Oh,” Dumery said, reaching a quick decision. “Excuse me, but I think I’ll be going. Thank you very much for your help.”

“You’re welcome, boy,” she said, watching with amusement as Dumery clambered back up onto the dock.

He had had a sudden inspiration when she had said the cattle were going north, and now he acted on it; he ran forward and slipped between two of the steers as they were herded across the gangplank onto the barge.

The drovers were too busy keeping the cattle headed the right direction to worry about anything else, and the barge crew was crowded to the ends, out of the way of their frightened and rambunctious cargo. If the drovers noticed Dumery at all they didn’t mention it, and the barge crew, he was sure, hadn’t seen him.

Of course, his chosen method of boarding was not particularly comfortable. The cattle jostled against him from all sides, and several times he narrowly avoided falling and being trampled. Even staying upright, three or four times a heavy hoof landed directly on his toes, making him gasp-but not cry out-with pain.

He’d seen cattle now and then in the markets, and had passed a few on the way from Ethshar to the Inn at the Bridge, but up until now he had never come directly into contact with the beasts. They were, he discovered, quite large, completely solid, surprisingly warm to the touch, and not very pleasant company.

He stood there, half-smothered by steerhide pressed against his face, for what seemed like half of eternity, getting bumped back and forth and scraped about.

Several of the steers were lowing plaintively, their hooves were thumping loudly on the decking, and people were shouting incomprehensible orders, adding up to a real cacophony. The stink of unwashed, frightened cattle was thick and foul in his nostrils. He could see nothing but brown hide.

Then the barge began moving, and though the shouting died away the cattle made more noise than ever, stamping about and bellowing. Dumery waited, concentrating on continuing to breathe.

He was considering several interesting questions, such as whether it was time to reveal his presence to the crew, whether he wanted to reveal his presence at all, how he could attract their attention in the first place, and whether he was going to survive this little escapade, when he raised his head to take a breath and found himself looking up directly into a man’s face.

“Just what the hell are you doing there, boy?” the man demanded, in oddly-accented Ethsharitic.

“Mmmph,” Dumery said.

“Hai!” the man called; he slapped the steers surrounding Dumery, and they parted, as if by magic.

Relieved, Dumery obeyed the man’s order to march up to the little deck at the bow of the barge. The man followed close behind.

Dumery found himself the center of attention for the five-man crew as he clambered up onto the narrow deck; all eyes were on him.

“Who areyou?” one man demanded.

“Dumery of Shiphaven,” Dumery replied. There wasn’t any point in lying.

“And what are you doinghere?” asked another.

“I needed a ride north,” Dumery explained.

The five just stared at him for a long moment, and he added, “I can work for my passage. I have no money, but I really want to go up north...”

The five men exchanged glances with one another.

“You’ll work?” one of them asked.

Dumery nodded. “Whatever’s needed,” he said, “if I can do it, I will.”

Another man grinned. “Kid,” he said, “I think you’ve got a deal.”

“Hey, Kelder,” another called, “where’s the shovel? We’ve got someone here who’s really going to need it!”