Pirvan hoped that Jemar would continue to be as easy of temper as he had been so far.
“He said that in the lands of Karthay there had been found a copper dragon, some time in Zeboim. They could not tell its age or sex, but it seemed injured, and it either would not or could not speak. All their knowledge of dragons told them little more than they could see with their own eyes.
“Meanwhile, rumors of the dragon were beginning to spread in the city and its lands. Some persons ill-disposed toward the lords of the city said that the dragon was a sign. A sign of the coming fall of the lords and a new rule of justice in Karthay.”
“There are always fools with more wind than wits,” Jemar said. “Perhaps a few more in Karthay than elsewhere, but no city is free of them.”
“I know little of Karthay save what has concerned House Encuintras,” Eskaia said. “I daresay you are right.”
“I asked why they were telling us this. They said that they proposed a bargain. If we would take the dragon aboard Golden Cup, transport him to a distant land, and release him there, they would permit us to complete our repairs and replenish our supplies. They would also release Jemar’s six men.
“I said that I wished proof of the dragon’s existence. The priest said that it was not in the city. I said that if it was not in the city, we would need to complete repairs and so on before we sailed to take it aboard.
“The priest and the captain spoke together privately for a few moments. Then the priest said that he would show us the dragon. If that was not enough, he would take trusted persons from our ranks to see it.
“I told him to show us the dragon. He conjured up its image. I believe that it was the image of something real, for one could walk around it and view it from all sides. Also, I recognized Mount Frygol in the background.
“I said that if our captain said the ship could safely carry the dragon, we would take it aboard, after we finished our repairs. The captain said that if we waited until then, he would have to send ships of the harbor guard with us until we had the dragon aboard.
“I said that I understood his reasons. But if he wished us to sail under such a badge of his distrust, he must release the six men of Jemar the Fair at once. Nothing else would be accomplished until he had done this. It seemed to me that taking hostages from the innocent is not something that should be allowed. Istarian hands are not clean of this, but I wished that mine be-”
Jemar held up a hand, then rose, walked to Eskaia, and kissed her gently on the forehead. She trembled. For a moment Pirvan thought that she was going to raise her head, open her mouth, and return the kiss much less formally.
But Jemar was backing away and sitting down again. He now sat with one leg thrown over the other, and a distant look in his eyes. Then the distant look vanished, and both feet came down with a thump on the red and yellow Istarian carpet.
“You have done better than you know,” he said. “My lady, I am more grateful than speech allows me to express. I do not speak only of my six men, either, though I imagine every one of them will be even more ready to kiss you than I-though one of them, as I recall, is a woman.”
“She may kiss me, too,” Eskaia said sturdily. “But, good captain, you repay me poorly for dispelling mysteries by adding more. Do you know more of this matter of a dragon than you have hinted?”
Jemar’s jaw quivered but didn’t quite drop. Then he nodded.
“I ask you to believe that I have not spread the nature of your voyage abroad. But-you are sailing for the Crater Gulf, are you not?”
Eskaia was beyond speech but not beyond a jerk of the head.
“I thought as much. Then it seems to me that you have been done a great favor, or indeed done yourself one, by agreeing to take the copper dragon aboard Golden Cup.”
“The captain still has his doubts,” Eskaia pointed out.
“I will try to ease them. I will even put some of my men aboard your ship-not enough to seize it, but enough to aid you with the dragon. Also, if you are going to sail for the dragon with harbor guard galleys about you, I cannot send ships with you. The Karthayans would find ways of provoking a fight, and no good would come of that.
“But I will need trustworthy witnesses from my own men, of what happens when you take the dragon aboard. If I can send them, there is no limit on the help you may ask of me.”
Eskaia’s voice was brisk. “That is very generous of you, fair Jemar, but I think you still leave something unsaid. Pray say it, or you are asking me to buy a pony disguised as a horse. My house did not reach its present position by making such bargains.”
Jemar held out his hands in what looked to Pirvan remarkably like supplication. “I meant neither fraud nor disrespect. It is merely that I can offer you little firm knowledge in return for your admirable account, only tales and rumors and rumors of tales.”
“These often give enough warning of dangers that those who listen are better armed to face them,” Eskaia said. She grinned, showing all her dimples and this time definitely making play with her eyes. “If that is not a quotation from some ancient scholar, I will claim it myself.”
“One need not be a scholar to be wise,” Jemar replied, returning the grin. “Now, as pleasant as it is to exchange praises until the wine runs out, let me tell you of what is about among seafarers in the matter of dragons.”
It took even longer for Jemar to tell his tale than for Eskaia to tell hers. Jemar did not have so many details to put in, though. He took his time explaining how reliable each tale or rumor might be, so that his listeners could judge for themselves.
It seemed that there had been, for two years, rumors that the chief of the Crater Gulf pirates, a man named Synsaga, had a renegade mage in his service. Renegades were almost always evil, and never better than neutral. So if that was true, all by itself it was enough to cause concern.
Meanwhile, other rumors had begun to accumulate. Sailors (even other pirates) commonly gave the Crater Gulf a wide berth. But ships passing as much as fifty miles out at sea had sighted something large and black in the air, usually high up but sometimes low enough that features could be made out, features that matched the ancient descriptions of black dragons. They were creatures of evil, creatures of Takhisis, creatures no man wanted to see out and about again-for that would mean the dragonsleep was crumbling and good and evil alike would soon be unleashing their winged giants upon the world.
“It seems to me that there is a less frightening explanation,” Eskaia put in. “Suppose, by some quirk of his spells, this renegade had broken the sleep of a single black dragon? Then, according to what I have learned, the balance is destroyed. A good dragon is needed to restore that balance. Suppose our copper dragon is the one, and the priest of Paladine knows it, even if he did not awaken the dragon himself?”
“You reason like a cleric yourself,” Jemar said. The admiration in his voice was unconcealed.
Eskaia smiled. “Thank you. I have certainly read some of the books-the ones open to all-that form the common knowledge of clerics. The concept of the balance is in books that must be intended for children.”
“Some children are wiser than others,” Jemar said. “And you are no child.”
Pirvan was not sure he liked Jemar’s tone when he spoke those words. Haimya definitely did not; he could now read her subtler moods in her face. At least it would be Haimya who had the unpleasant task of explaining to Eskaia the folly of leading a man such as Jemar on in that fashion.
“I hope not,” Eskaia said. “Them I trust that we can rely on your aid?”
“As I said, what I can promise is small, until my captains have met in council and sworn to follow me in this. But there will certainly be men of mine, good fighters all, aboard Golden Cup when she sails for the dragon.”