And so she had.
He suspected it had something to do with Sedric. The man spent a lot of time in his cabin. “When he was not there, he was likely to be up on the nose of the vessel, looking at his dragon as she plodded stolidly along. Recently he had taken to visiting her ashore every evening. Daily he made an effort at grooming the creature. He, too, seemed to be in the midst of puzzling something out. He reminded Leftrin of a man recovering his strength after a long convalescence. He no longer seemed to care so much if his boots got muddy or his hair was not combed. Leftrin had surprised Bellin and Sedric in the galley, drinking coffee at the table together. More startling had been finding Davvie showing him how he fastened hooks to a long line for the bottom-fishing lines that he sometimes set at night. Once he had seen Carson leaning on the railing next to him, and wondered if that alliance might not be the source of Alise’s unhappiness. Carson, too, had been odd of late, and quiet in his watchful hunter way. Something was troubling him, but he hadn’t divulged it to Leftrin. If that ‘something’ was his relationship with Sedric, then the captain was content to remain ignorant of it. He had plenty to worry about as it was; there was no room left in his brain for minding other folk’s business.
The expedition had changed, and no one was comfortable with the changes yet. There were not enough boats and paddles for the keepers to follow the dragons as they had before. Some of the keepers had to ride on board the barge each day. After one day of leaving them in idleness, Leftrin had recognized the danger to that and found tasks for all of them. When he had time, he supervised them in the shaping of new paddles for the remaining boats, and other mundane tasks. Tarman was not a large vessel; it was sometimes difficult to find enough chores to keep them all busy. Nonetheless, he kept the onboard keepers busy with any tasks he or Hennesey could think of. In his experience, idle hands on a boat made for trouble all round.
He’d already seen signs of it. Bellin had come to him, uncomfortable and shy, to tell him that she’d had a talk with Skelly about Alum. ‘Neither one of them means any harm. But the attraction is there, they are young and routine demands that they see each other almost every day. I’ve cautioned her. You’d be wise to speak to the young man before any hopes are raised or damage done.’
He’d hated that task. But it had been his, both as captain and as her uncle. Skelly had avoided him for the last few days, and Alum, proud but respectful, had gone out every day since then in Greft’s boat. Greft was grateful for Alum’s help, but the older keeper would not have been Leftrin’s choice of a companion for Alum. It was more and more clear to him that Greft did not respect his authority and was not above stirring rebellion. But there it was. Greft had reclaimed the boat that Carson and Sedric had brought back. Leftrin thought it was short-sighted of the keepers to let him assert ownership of it; surely all the boats had been owned in common when they set out. But he would not interfere in keeper matters. He had more than enough on his own plate to keep him busy. Greft had assumed Jess’s mantle as a hunter, and everyone seemed content to let him do so.
Tarman had let him know about the major tributary before he saw it. No change in the river took him unawares. Tarman had felt it early in the day, had tasted a change in the water and had informed him. Tarman always preferred a shallow channel, and as the river began to deepen, he had once more hugged the eastern bank. Hours before they reached the junction of the tributaries, long before he actually saw it, Leftrin began to hear it and feel it with Tarman’s senses. When they finally arrived at the merging of the two rivers that fed the Rain Wild River, it was clear which one of them had been the source of both the acid and the wave that had nearly destroyed all of them. The western tributary presented a wide open channel that was littered with debris to either side. Down that chute had rushed the deadly wave, destroying all in its path and leaving the trees and vegetation on its banks festooned with all manner of torn and broken branches and grasses. Sunlight sparkled on the greyish river, and it presented a welcoming vista of straight open waterway.
A lush delta of tall reeds and bulrushes separated it from the more sedate eastern tributary, a meandering shallow river overhung with vines, the edges choked with coarse grasses and rushes. Without hesitation, the dragons had followed the open channel, staying as close to the shore as they could. They were well ahead of the barge, as always, but the straight river allowed Leftrin to see them, strung out in a long line as they paced on. The hunters had proceeded ahead of them. There in the open waters, the sunlight glittered on them. Golden Mercor led, with immense Kalo right behind him. The other dragons, green and scarlet, lavender and orange and blue, trailed him in a brilliant parade. Relpda the copper dragon and the aptly-named Spit brought up the tail end of the dragon’s procession. The straight open channel was sunny and inviting. Easy sailing ahead, and Leftrin suddenly had the feeling that Kelsingra was not that far away. If an ancient Elderling city was to be found, surely it would be up that sun-struck waterway.
He was anticipating a long afternoon of easy travel when, with a sudden lurch, Tarman veered towards the delta and ran aground. Leftrin stumbled and caught at the railing to keep from falling. A chorus of startled shouts rose from the throats of everyone aboard. ‘Damn it, Swarge!’ Leftrin shouted, and ‘Wasn’t me!’ the tillerman shouted back at him, a tinge of anger in his voice.
Leftrin leaned over the railing and looked down. There was almost always a sandbar whenever two bodies of moving water met. Always a delta of some sort. Tarman knew that, as did every riverman aboard him. Tarman knew it, and Tarman never ran aground. Hadn’t for years, even before Leftrin had had the opportunity to modify him. Yet there they were, stuck fast in mud, with the ship making no effort at all to free himself. It made no sense.
He leaned on the railing, growled deep in his throat. ‘Tarman. What are you doing?’
He felt no response from the ship that he could decipher. He was well and truly wedged on the muddy bottom.
‘Captain?’ It was Hennesey, confusion all over his face.
‘I don’t know,’ he replied quietly to the mate’s unvoiced question. He gave an exasperated sigh. ‘Get the extra poles out. The keepers may as well earn their keep today. Let’s get off this mudbank and back on our way.’
‘Aye, sir,’ Hennesey responded, and began to shout his relay of the orders. Leftrin gave the ship’s railing a brief squeeze. ‘We’ll have you off this bar and underway again soon enough,’ he promised Tarman quietly. But as he lifted his hands away, he wondered if he felt assent or amusement from his ship.
The keepers gathered on the forward deck, summoned by Hennesey’s shouted orders. Thymara had been working in the galley, trying to scrub ancient burned-on residue from the bottoms of the ship’s pots, when the sudden lurch had tossed her against the galley table. She’d hurried out to see what the fuss was about and was shocked to find they were stuck. It had never happened before. They had passed numerous small tributaries feeding into the Rain Wild River. Some had been small streams wending through the trees and out to dump into the river. Others had been wide rivers cutting their own boggy paths through the forest before adding their waters to the river. Tarman never got stuck in any of their deltas. But this was different.
To the right was an immense river with a wide, free-running channel down its centre. It was obvious that it had recently been a flood channel. Damaged trees with dangling limbs and mud-daubed debris lined the shores of it. The colour of the water was definitely lighter as it fed into the main channel and dispersed. Up that river was the source of both the torrent that had nearly killed them all and the acid that coloured the waters of the Rain Wild River white. The river and the forest that bound it to either side ran off into an unimaginable distance. A bluish shadow against the sky at the far horizon might have been mountains, or her imagination. The dragons were silhouettes against that horizon as they made their way upriver.