The Rite of Spring: The Dragon Hunter

The Rite of Spring: Fragment 14

The Dragon Hunter
in which Linnain sets out in search of romance

As it happened, my business at Fourth Cataract didn't take long. I got a very good price for the wing skins, which were large and unflawed. I didn't do so badly on the bones, either. All in all, it made a good heavy purse, which would keep me nicely for a few months. Hunting dragons may get too pissing exciting now and again, but at least if you get lucky, you can relax. There is a little house belonging to the House of the Mother at First Cataract. Well, the Mother is the aspect of the God I feel most comfortable with, and in any case they have always seemed safe to me; so I took the most of the purse there, as I always do, keeping only enough change for the next few days.

After that I went to the hostel. There is a bar girl there of my persuasion, and I was piss tired of handling myself. Also, a hostel is a good place to hear the word. I'd barely got into the place when I got nobbled the first time. This man wore a barbarian merchant's coat in orange and yellow. He wasn't much to look at himself, a middling sort of mother, middle height, middle years, middle colour - without the coat I wouldn't be sure of knowing him again. He had a soft, sort of purring voice, and a way of drawing out his speech which annoyed me. He asked if I was a dragon hunter. Well, anyone there could have told him that, so I admitted it. He said

"are you, then familiar with... the mountains?"

Piss silly question. Where do you expect to find dragons?

"Ahhh..."

he asked, "but do you perhaps know a valley that leads up just to the... east... of the midnight pass?"

Oh yes, I thought, what's this? I said I might do. He asked whether I had been there lately. I said that I had been in that general direction.

"And did you... perhaps... encounter any person... on your travels?"

I did not like this pisser. I didn't know who's side he was on. I didn't know who's side I was on for that matter. Not the pissing Rhiconicfhear, that's for sure. But I wasn't going to help anyone get to Aonan. I said

"of course. The pissing mountains are pissing crawling with mothers at this time of year. What do you pissing well think?"

He gave me a long, cold look, through eyes that were almost closed, and left.

After that I ordered myself a meal - the first I'd had cooked by someone else in a season. It came. It looked pissing good. I was just settling down to eat when the warden of the hostel came up. Piss me if he didn't ask the same pissing questions. Well, he got the same pissing answer. He went away, and I ate. Before I was done there was another of the mothers - an Ear, as it happened, so maybe she had some right. But I was well pissed by that time and she didn't stay long.

After that, I went and found the bar girl, Corrieshain. She wasn't working just then, so I hired a room and we went up. I sat looking at her while she peeled. She's a Yachorach, and pale, no darker than beech leaves in autumn; her hair has flame colours in it. She's a goodish shape, a little soft from too little exercise. I've been lying with her, when I'm in the Cataract, for years. I like her, and she likes me. I've always found it good with her. But that time... I was thinking of dark bronze skin, near black with greeny brown lights. I was thinking of hair the colour of peat, with the sheen of water at midnight. I was thinking of a girl my colour. I was thinking of a slip of a bint, still rounding out, but doing it nicely. I was thinking of Aonan. To be fair, I was also thinking of her piss proud stubbornness, and the way she made me laugh; and the way she made me feel old and wise and experienced and protective.

I didn't get off on Corrieshain that night. In the morning I sulked a bit; and then I thought, what the piss. I arranged with the hostel they'd take care of my mule and my hunting gear, went down to the quay, and bought a ride down to the City. Maybe I'd make a play for the bint, after all.

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