The plundering of Kelsingra was inevitable. Ever since she’d realized that, Alise had begged passage to the city every day on which it was clear enough for Heeby to fly. She had spent every daylight hour visiting and recording her impression of every structure, rather than rushing from building to building. Better to have a detailed and accurate recording of part of the ancient city than a haphazard sampling of all of it, she’d decided.
Now she heard footsteps on the pavement outside and went to the door. Leftrin was striding through the empty streets, his hands stuffed under his crossed arms for warmth and his chin tucked into his chest. His gray eyes were narrowed against the sharp breeze. The cold had reddened his cheeks above his dark beard, and the wind had mussed his always-unruly hair. Even so, her heart warmed at the sight of him. The blocky ship’s captain in his worn jacket and trousers would not have merited a second glance from her during her days as a respectable Bingtown Trader’s daughter. But in the months of their companionship on board the Tarman, she’d discovered his true worth. She loved him. Loved him far more than she’d ever loved her cruel husband, Hest, even in the first heady days of her infatuation with the handsome fellow. Leftrin was rough-spoken and scarcely educated in any of the finer things of life. But he was honest and capable and strong. And he loved her, openly and wholeheartedly.
“I’m here!” she called to him, and he turned his steps her way and hurried to join her.
“It’s getting colder out there,” he greeted her as he stepped into the small shelter of the house. “The wind is kicking up and promising rain. Or maybe sleet.”
She stepped into his embrace. His outer clothes were chill against her, but as they held each other, they warmed. She stepped back slightly to capture his rough hands and hold them between her own, chafing them. “You need gloves,” she told him, uselessly.
“We all need gloves. And every other kind of warm clothing. And replacements for all the gear, tools, and food supplies we lost in that flood wave. I fear Cassarick is our only source.”
“Carson said he could—”
Leftrin shook his head. “Carson’s bringing down lots of meat, and the keepers are getting better at hunting in this new kind of terrain. We’re all staying fed, but it’s only meat; and the dragons are never full. And Carson’s tanning the skin off every creature, but it takes time, and we don’t have the proper tools. He can make stiff hides that work as floor coverings or to cover windows. But to make serviceable bed furs or leather to wear requires time and equipment we don’t have. I have to go to Cassarick, my dear. I can’t put it off any longer. And I want you to go with me.”
She leaned her forehead on his shoulder and shook her head. “I can’t.” Her words were muffled in his embrace. “I have to stay here. There is so much to document, and I have to get it done before it’s spoiled.” She lifted her face and spoke before he could launch into the familiar reassurances. Useless to talk about it. “How did your work go?” she asked, changing the subject.
“Slowly.” He shook his head. He had taken on the task of designing a new landing for the city. “Really, all I can do is plan and make a list of what I need to buy. The river sweeps past the front of the city; the drop-off is immediate, the water is deep, and the current is swift. There’s no place to put Tarman aground and nothing I trust to tie up to. Even with every sweep manned, we were carried right past the city and downriver. I don’t know if it has always been that way, but I think not. I suspect the depth of the water varies seasonally and that when summer comes the water will recede a bit. If so, summer will be our time to build.
“I’ve tested the old pilings that are left. The wooden ones are only shells, but the stone ones seem sturdy. We can go upriver on the other side, cut timber there, and then raft it downriver to the city. Landing the logs here will be the challenge. But it would be a waste of time to attempt it right now. We don’t have tools and fasteners to build the sort of dock we’d need before a large ship could safely tie up here. And the only place to get those is—”
“Trehaug,” she finished for him.
“Trehaug. Possibly Cassarick. A long journey either way. I stocked the ship for an expedition, not to found a settlement. And the keepers lost so much of their basic equipment and extra clothes and blankets in that flash flood that, well, there just isn’t enough to go around. It’s going to be a hard winter here until I return with fresh supplies.”
“I don’t want to be separated from you, Leftrin. But I’m going to stay here and keep working. I want to learn as much about the city as I can before the Traders descend on it and tear it apart.”
