Alise was astonished. She had expected the Elderling to declare her undying devotion to dragons and to beg Alise to do all she could to protect them. Instead, she continued, “Don’t trust them. Don’t think of them as especially noble or of a higher morality than humans. They aren’t. They’re just like us, except they are larger and stronger, with potent memories of always having their own way. So, be careful. And whatever you learn of them, whether you find Kelsingra or not, you must record and bring back to us. Because sooner or later, humanity is going to have to coexist with a substantial population of dragons. We have forgotten all we ever knew about dealing with dragons. But they have forgotten nothing about humans.”
“I’ll be careful,” Alise promised faintly.
“I’ll take you at your word.” Malta smiled, and her face seemed briefly more human. “You seem to be a Trader who remembers what a promise means. In these times, we could do with more like you. And now, I’m afraid I must go home to rest.”
“Do you need any help to get home?” Alise was bold enough to ask. But Malta shook her head. She released Alise’s hands and slowly but gracefully climbed the shallow steps to the entry doors. Alise was still looking after her when she felt Leftrin’s heavy hand clap her on the shoulder.
“Well, didn’t you turn out to be just the ticket for both of us! I wonder if Brashen Trell knew what a bit of luck he was sending my way when he sent you to me! I doubt it, but there it is. Well, my lady luck, the deal is signed, save for your mark, and we’re all waiting on that.”
In astonishment, she turned to find that it was so. The Council members were reseated in their places. The pen in its stand awaited her. As she glanced from it to the Council leader, Trader Polsk gestured at it impatiently. Alise glanced back at Leftrin.
“Well, get it done,” he urged her. “The day gets no longer!”
In a sort of daze, she crossed the room. She shouldn’t do this. She couldn’t do this. Had she ever before set her signature to a document that bound her? Only when she had set her hand to her marriage agreement with Hest. She recalled as a waking nightmare all the particulars of that agreement, and how she had willingly marked her name on every one. It was the only time her signature had bound her as a Trader. Time after time, she had recalled that afternoon. Now when she thought of how quickly Hest had moved through the ceremony, she saw it not as a bridegroom’s eagerness, but as yet another mark of how he would trivialize their bond. She had lived to regret binding herself that way. How could she even think of setting her hand to another document? Her eyes wandered over the words above her name. Someone had negotiated a wage for her, a daily payment for each day she was on the vessel. How peculiar to think that she would earn money, money of her own, doing this. If she did it. And then she knew that she would.
Because she wanted to. Because despite being Hest’s wife, she was still of Trader stock, and still capable of making her own decisions. It was her hand, her familiar freckled hand that lifted the pen and dipped it. She watched, oddly distant, as she formed the characters of her name in her strong sloping penmanship. “There. It’s done,” she said, and she heard how small her voice sounded now in that large room.
“Done,” agreed Trader Polsk, and dumped a generous measure of sand on the paper. Alise watched as the sand was shaken off, leaving her signature strong and black on the page. What had she just done?
Captain Leftrin was at her shoulder. His hearty laugh boomed out, and he took her arm and turned her, leading her away. “And that’s a fine morning’s bargaining for both of us. I’ll admit that having your company on this expedition suits me very well indeed. The Council insists that it can have Tarman loaded and ready to sail by late afternoon. Between you and me, that won’t be much of a trick. I knew I’d get the contract, and I’ve already made arrangements for the supplies that I want. Now. We’ve not far to go for the first stop on our journey. The dragon grounds are an hour past the city docks. But for now, there’s a bit of time for us to spend as we wish. I’ve arranged for a runner to take the news to Hennesey. He’s a good mate and I’ve no worries about him seeing the cargo loaded. So. Shall we take a bit of a tour of Cassarick before we go? You didn’t have much of a chance to see Trehaug from what you’ve told me.”
She should have said no. She should have insisted on immediately returning to the boat. But somehow, after the morning’s adventure, she couldn’t bear to return to being not only rigorously correct but timorously so. Nor could she imagine meeting Sedric’s eyes and admitting what she had done. Sedric. Oh, Sa have mercy! No. She couldn’t confront that thought yet. She boldly set her hand on Leftrin’s arm and said, “I think I’d enjoy seeing Cassarick.”
