Read the previous entry in the series here.
Read the next entry in the series here.
Following a markedly acerbic message from Ronica Vestrit to the Cassarick bird-keeper, “Dragon Blood” begins with Ellik presenting the captive Selden to the Duke of Chalced, who comments dimly on Selden’s appearance. The situation of those present is described in detail, and Selden is abused once again before he identifies himself and what had been his intended purpose. Selden also lays out the betrayal that led him to his current situation, and he notes that he might well be ransomed. The Duke refuses, however, citing his seemingly draconic nature as a reason to keep him. Selden notes his heritage and is again abused. The Duke considers his options and the effects that having eaten of Selden had had upon him, and he determines to have Chassim tend to him. The Duke contemplates further, finding himself reasonably pleased.
Elsewhere, Tintaglia approaches Trehaug, happily anticipating being served by Malta, Reyn, and Selden. Arriving, she summons the three, occasioning panic among the Rain Wilders present. At length, Jani Khuprus addresses the dragon, confirming that Malta and Reyn are gone and resisting Tintaglia’s attempts at ensorcelling her. Others react poorly to the presence of the dragon in their midst, and, after some upset, Tintaglia is sent on towards Kelsingra, the location of which is known to her.
Aboard the Tarman, Leftrin eagerly anticipates arriving at Kelsingra as he and his crew and passengers approach it. Reyn starts at the sight of the outskirts, and the pair of them marvel to see so many dragons aloft as they do. Others aboard join them in the joy of the sight, and Leftrin is put ill at ease by the sudden interest of Spit in the liveship. He does consider, however, the pursuit that yet follows, and he watches with equanimity as the pursuing ship presumes to fire upon Spit. The dragons begin to harass the vessel before falling into a game of their own, and Lefrtin and Hennessey confer about the changes to them.
I find myself taken by Ronica’s message. I know biographical criticism is always problematic. I know, too, that affective reading is at least as problematic. I cannot help but be put in mind of a number of more experienced women I’ve known, however, and I cannot help but think that something of the author’s own annoyance at some delivery person or another bleeds over into the text. (Given the publication date of the novel, 2013, I find myself wondering if something like this was at work for Hobb as it had been for me.) Certainly, it rings of authentic experience to me, the lived real, and that is a helpful grounding in a book that makes much of flying, acid-spitting metamorphic reptiles and those they usefully and decoratively mutate for their own ends.
The cold conniving at work in Chalced also strikes me. Again, given the times involved in publication, I have to wonder if Hobb is responding in some ways to Martin and his swelling popularity, Game of Thrones being on screens and all. Admittedly, Hobb’s characters were prone to plotting ere ever Benioff and Weiss got going on the show (about which more here), with Shrewd, Chade, and Regal doing more than their shares of such in the Farseer novels, and none of it is particularly savory. Still, Shrewd and Chade at least presented themselves as acting in the interests of the realm rather than themselves, with Chade being somewhat belligerent on that score; reprehensible as no small part of what the elder Farseer half-brothers plotted was, it was not about them. And, reprehensible as no small part of what the elder Farseer half-brothers plotted was, it was not cannibalism.
Neither is the case with the Duke of Chalced. I believe I’ve commented on the almost cartoonish villainy in play with him, almost as if he joins Mumm-Ra in pleading directly with ancient spirits of evil. He is clearly The Bad Guy here, and he seems worse, somehow, than the Pale Woman of the Tawny Man novels; she, at least, had some vision to attempt to enact, and one not entirely unsympathetic, although the means used to attempt the ends are foul. The Duke, though, appears only to serve himself, and if a reader can feel pity for a person beset by age and illness, it is far harder to incline towards a slaver who will feast upon the flesh of the still-living.