Carson, he realized, stood a head taller than he did. And was a lot stronger. The hunter moved him along the deck and into the deckhouse and sat him down at the galley table as if he were a mother harrying a recalcitrant child to his place. The man’s voice was deep and rumbling, almost soothing if one overlooked his uncouth way of putting things. Sedric braced his elbows on the sticky galley table and lowered his face into his hands. The smells of grease, smoke, and old food were making him feel worse.

Carson busied himself in the galley, putting something in a bowl and then pouring hot water from the kettle over it. He stood for a time, jabbing at it with a spoon, before he brought it to the table. Sedric lifted his head, looked at the mess in the bowl, and belched suddenly. The dark red taste of dragon blood rose up in his mouth and flooded his nose again. He thought again that he might faint.

“You got to feel better after that,” Carson observed approvingly. “Here. Eat some of this. It will settle your gut.”

“What is it?”

“Hardtack softened with hot water. Works like a sponge in the gut, if you got a man with a sour belly or one you got to sober up fast for a day’s work.”

“It looks disgusting.”

“Yes, it does. Eat it.”

He hadn’t had any food, and the aftertaste of the dragon blood still lingered in his mouth and nose. Anything, he reasoned, had to be better than that. He took up the wide spoon and stirred the muck.

The hunter’s boy Davvie entered the deckhouse. “What’s going on?” he demanded. There was a note of urgency in his voice that puzzled Sedric. He put a spoonful of soggy hardtack in his mouth. It was all texture and no taste.

“Nothing you need to worry about, Davvie.” Carson was firm with the boy. “And you have work to do. Get after mending those nets. I’m betting we won’t be moving from here for most of the day. We set a net out in the current, we may get a haul of fish, maybe two. But only if the net is mended. So get to it.”

“What about him? What’s the matter with him?” The boy’s voice sounded almost accusing.

“He’s sick, not that it’s any of your business. You get about your work and leave your elders and your betters to their own. Out.”

Davvie didn’t quite slam the door but shut it more firmly than he needed to. “Boys!” Carson exclaimed in disgust. “They think they know what they want, but if I gave it to him…well. He’d find out that he just wasn’t ready for it. But I’m sure you know what I mean.”