Hest snorted, and when Sedric lifted his eyes to look at him, his face was set in mockery, and his eyes were green ice. Sedric reviewed his own words and saw his mistake. Hest never liked to hear that he owed anyone anything. Hest rose from his desk and paced a turn around the room. “What can it hurt?” he asked, in a voice that mimicked Sedric’s. “What can it hurt? Only my wallet. And my reputation! My pride, too, but I suppose that is nothing to you. I should let my wife go traipsing off to the Rain Wilds, unaccompanied, on some crackpot mission to find an Elderling hiding under a rock or to save the poor crippled dragons? It’s bad enough that she spends every spare hour of her day immersed in such idiocy; should I let her make her obsession public?”
Sedric kept his voice reasonable. “It’s not an obsession, Hest. It’s her scholarly interest . . .”
“Scholarly interest! She’s a woman, Sedric! And not a particularly well-educated one! Look at the schooling she received, sharing a governess with her sisters! A cheap governess, probably couldn’t teach them much more than how to read and do arithmetic and embroider little flowers on scarves. Just enough education to get her into trouble, if you ask me! Just enough to make her give herself airs about being a ‘scholar’ and think she can buy a passage on a ship and go off on her own, with no thought at all about propriety or her duties to her husband and family. And never a pause, I’m sure, to wonder how much such a frivolous trip will cost her husband!”
“You can well afford it, Hest! Just the other day, I was listening to Braddock talking about how much his wife spends on dresses and little parties for her friends and her constant refurbishing of their home. Alise costs you none of that; she lives as simply as can be, except for the materials she requires for her scholarly pursuits. Really, Hest, don’t you feel you owe her that outlet, after all the years she has waited? So let her make her journey. You’ve plenty of connections up the Rain Wild River. A word from you would probably win her free passage on the Goldendown or any other liveship. And I can think of half a dozen Rain Wild Traders who would be delighted to offer her hospitality, no matter how eccentric she might be. They’d do it to gain favor with you and—”
“Favor I’d later have to pay back. And you said it just now, yourself. ‘No matter how eccentric she might seem!’ There’s a fine recommendation for me. I can hear it now. ‘Oh, yes, we had Hest Finbok’s mad wife come stay with us. Spent all her time nosing about in the ruins and chatting up the dragons. Delightful woman. Her brain is as riddled as a tree full of beetles.’ ”
Hest was adept at voices and mannerisms. Upset as he was with him, still Sedric had to stifle the impulse to smile as his friend suddenly became a gossipy old woman with a swampy Rain Wild accent. He held his tongue and shook his head at him rebukingly.
Hest spoke decisively. “I don’t care what she says or what she has arranged. She can’t go. Certainly not alone.”
Sedric found a voice. “Then don’t send her off alone. See this as the opportunity it is! Go to the Rain Wilds with her. Freshen up your trade contracts there; it must be six years since you last visited—”
“And for very good reasons. Sedric, you cannot imagine how that river smells. Nor the endless gloom of that forest. People living in houses made of paper and sticks, eating lizards and bugs. And half of them are touched by the Rain Wilds in ways that make me shudder just to look at them. I can’t help myself. No. Going face-to-face with the Rain Wild Traders would only damage my contacts there, not strengthen them.”
Sedric pursed his lips for a moment and then ventured a topic that had been at the back of his mind for some time. “Do you remember what Begasti Cored said to us on our last visit to Chalced? That a merchant who could provide the Duke of Chalced with even the smallest part of a dragon could be a rich man to the end of his days?”
“Begasti Cored. The bald merchant with the horrible breath?” “The bald, extremely rich merchant with the horrible breath,” Sedric corrected him, grinning. “The one who has founded his fortune not on trading vast amounts of anything, but, as he told us, in delivering a small amount of something very rare to the right man at the right time.”
Hest gave a martyred sigh. “Sedric, those tales have been circulating for the last year and a half. All know the Duke of Chalced is aging, and perhaps dying. He thrashes about, trying every quackery under the sun in hopes of a cure for death.”
“And he has the money to do so. Hest, if you traveled to the Rain Wilds with Alise, you’d have the perfect excuse to get close to the dragons and those who tend them. Alise has contacts with them; I know she does, I’ve sent off her missives for her and brought dozens of posts back to her. If she goes, you know she’ll manage to get to Cassarick, and she’ll go directly to the dragon grounds. She’ll be as close to the beasts as anyone can get.” He found he had lowered his voice as he said, “A few shed scales. A vial of blood. A tooth. Who knows what you might be able to bring back? What we do know is that anything you acquired would be worth, not a small fortune, but a very large one.” Sedric let the clothing he had been folding fall from his hands. He sank down onto Hest’s bed and said quietly, “With that much money, a man could go anywhere. He could live any way he liked and be above rebuke. Enough money will buy that. Respectability regardless of what you do.” He stared through the walls of the chamber into an invisible distance and dreamed.
