“I risked my life for this egg.”
Tom’s face tinged red. “You’re still risking it, boy. If’n that dragon doesn’t come back spitting liquid fire at us, then thieves and worse will try to take it off your hands. You got no idea of what a valuable item you have in that bag, or what others will do for it. A hard-working man might spend his entire life toiling and not see as much coin as that egg will bring. Not as much money in his whole miserable life. Wouldn’t take a lot to convince a poor man like that to take your egg from you. He might say it isn’t such a bad thing. He might say that you have a whole life in front of you to earn money. If he is so quick to take your egg, imagine what a man who is a thief will do.”
Gareth wondered at the outburst. Almost like a lesson from the teachers. While it seemed direct and honest, there were overtones like the teachers used. Questions within questions. Statements within statements. Not at all like what a poor fisherman would speak. Gareth held the egg tighter to his chest. “What matters is that I have the egg of a dragon in my bag. That’s all. Not worth anything until I find a way to sell it. That’s what counts.”
Tom barked a laugh, a sound that held little humor and a lot of understanding. “True enough, son. That egg is worth more than I’ll make in many years of selling fish, even if the fishing is good. I can’t rightly say I know the full value of your egg, so I’m guessing.”
“Tom, I see your point. Searching for someone to buy my egg in Dunsmuir is like telling the whole city what I have and daring them to take it. Like standing up at an inn and making a pronouncement that you’re buying ale for the house and watching the response as everyone jumps up and tries to get their share.”
“Yup, you’ll soon have all the dregs of the city wondering if’n you are man enough to keep your egg. Got a knife in your belt, I notice, but can you use it to defend yourself? Are you willing to use it? How bout against three hungry men, all bigger than you and experienced in how to run a man through with a blade?”
Gareth lifted his chin and met the gaze of the fisherman. “I believe you were about to make a proposal a while ago, even if you don’t talk like any fisherman I’ve ever heard of.”
Tom pulled his attention from Gareth and returned to the tiller and sails before he spoke. “And I believe you don’t talk like any farmer-boy I’ve ever heard, using terms like make me a proposal. You’re different, boy. Farmers don’t use words like those, not the ones I’ve met. There’s mor’n that one thing about you that stands out as different, now that I think on it. But yes, we briefly talked about sailing to Drakesport and finding the King’s soldiers who might buy your egg. That sound about right?”
Gareth grinned at the casual-sounding response, most of which the old man had proposed earlier, however not as direct. He nodded but offered no explanation for why he was different from other farmers or the rewards Tom expected to earn for his part in the trip. The teachers had often said that sometimes it is just better to shut up and let the other do the talking so you can learn.
Tom said, “But first, before we discuss it anymore, let’s you and me get a few things right between us, up front. The first is about trust. I’ve been at sea most of my life, and there're a hundred ways I can think of to dump you over the side of this boat if I want. Fact is, I’m probably stronger than you, but set that aside for now. I could sit here and wait until you stand up and then come about with the boom. That’d knock you over the side, and I wouldn’t have to move more’n releasing the line I’m holding to do exactly that. Then I could just sail away with that egg of yours. Or, I could just wait until you go to sleep and hit you over the head with an oar. Then I’d be givin’ you the big drink of salt water.”
“Why’re you telling me this? To scare me?”
Tom leaned closer and said, “Cause it’s all true. I want you to know if’n I wanted to take that egg off your hands without your permission, there’s not much you can do about it. You need to understand we must trust each other. Like partners.” He spat over the gunnels and pulled the tiller to the side while watching the sail flap at the sudden absence of wind. The boat swung around, and the boom moved to the other side as hard as if he’d pushed it. The entire boat shuddered when it hit the stop after passing inches over their heads. Its loud crack emphasized his words. “If you can’t see that . . . Well, it’s best I just let you off ashore, and we part ways.”
Gareth stared at the boom and understood that if he had been standing up, he would now be swimming, maybe with a broken arm or his head split open. Tom was right. The boat was his element. Gareth either trusted him or not.
Tom gave him a meaningful glance before adjusting sails that didn’t need any adjustment. The wind pushed the boat in the new direction.
Gareth avoided eye contact while he looked to the shoreline in the distance and saw they were now running parallel instead of directly at it. He felt he shouldn’t trust the fisherman because he didn’t know him, but what Tom had told him made sense. There hadn’t been a lot of unknown people to meet back in Dun Mare, and he felt at a disadvantage. But it was true, the old man was the master out here. Besides, he was offering help, and he expected to be paid for his help.
Gareth said, “Let me hear your idea, please.”
“Dunsmuir’s too risky, and besides, there're no buyers to make you a proper deal, anyway. You don’t have money for food or for travel on foot, so you’re not going to get very far if I put you ashore. If you manage to leave Dunsmuir Town, there’s still the highwaymen waiting for any who pass, and let’s be honest. You’re easy pickins. They’ll kill you if they think you have the price of a good meal in your purse, let alone a dragon’s egg. You won’t make it a day on the road.” He paused as if to let the words sink in. Then he nodded to the bow and said, “Up ahead there’s a small fishing village. I’ve docked there for supplies a few times. Place is called Priest’s Point. Clean, fresh water and necessities needed for us to be at sea a few days. Then we can sail for Drakesport, about three or four days’ travel by boat if the winds are fair.”
Gareth smiled. “You’ve already turned the boat for Priest’s Point, haven’t you?”
“Yep, we’re heading there unless you say otherwise, which you have every right to do. Now listen to me carefully. While we’re in Priest’s Point, you're to keep your mouth shut. I’m not making a threat or tellin’ you what to do. I’m saying when we get there, you don’t talk. Your speech tells everyone you come from elsewhere, and anything you put into words gets looked at real hard by those trying to make ends meet by killing or thievin’ and such. You don’t need to give them fodder to wonder about. Maybe best to just keep you hidden aboard.”
“What are you going to do while I’m not talking?” Gareth asked.
“Food and supplies for the trip. Jars of water, of course. Bread if it’s recently baked and cheap, hard boiled eggs, and maybe some dried strips of whatever game they have for sale. Travelin’ food. I got a few coppers stashed aside for emergencies.”
Luck was with me when Tom saw the dragon drop me into the ocean. But, as Faring says, everybody charges a price. Somebody always pays. “You’re expecting something in return for your favors, I take it?”
“That I am. Not much, in the light of what you can get for selling your egg, but we’ll talk of that later. Right now, I want you to scoot under that tarp on the seat behind you, and be still.”