Hatchling (Tameron and the Dragon) (2 page)

He stopped in front of the door to his quarters. Of course, people without magic--like him--weren't supposed to care who they mated with. According to gossip, they paid no attention to family heritage or the proper mixture of Elements, only to the lusts of their bodies.
Or the dreams of their hearts,
he thought with longing. He knew from listening to the other guards that the jokes weren’t true, but even mages who had partners chosen for them by the Wizards' College could have their true love with them always. What about him?

Tameron walked into the anteroom. Perhaps if he pretended he was all
right, he could fool everyone. He greeted Randor warmly.

The thickset, grizzled man obviously saw through his facade and asked, "What's wrong, boy?"

Tam wished he could tell him. "I'm just tired," he said. "Stine gave me a rough workout today with sword and shield, and then I had an audience with my father. Armor's heavy." Not as heavy as the burden he bore now.

"They're both too hard on you," Randor said. "I'll have a word with her. I know better than to ask the Protector to go easy on you!"

"Please don't," Tameron said. "I have to learn it sometime."
Especially now, with no other skill. I’ll need every scrap of knowledge from Tayn, as well as Stine's battle-learning, to do what Father wants of me.

"Wel
l, if you say so. But you need to sit down and have something to eat, if nothing else. Between that old bag, your tutor, and duties at Court, you scarcely have a moment to call your own. I doubt it's going to get any better,” Randor said grimly.

No. It's going to
be much worse,
Tam thought. Once the news got out, he would have to display his paces like a new pony before the Council to convince everyone he was fit to be the Protector's heir. Randor couldn't do anything about that. "I'll rest this evening," he told the older man. "I promise not to sit up too late over my books, either."

"That's more like it," Randor said. "I wish your life was easier. Maybe you'll have one more summer at the farm before you move up the hill to the Wizards' College."

"I wish I could," Tameron said, trying not to let his true feelings show. "I wish I could be there now!"

It didn
't matter what he wanted. Not now. Randor reminded him to eat the supper left for him on the sideboard in the next room, then left for the rest of the evening. He wearily forced it down, though it tasted like dust. Stine had taught him a soldier took what nourishment there was whenever possible.

When
Tam was done, he sagged down in a chair near the glowing firestone hearth and almost wept. It was his duty to do whatever the Protector asked, no matter how impossible. He'd already seen some soldiers die so others could live last spring, when he'd accompanied Stine on a raid against the Dragons in the hills. He understood that.

Scholar Tayn often spoke to him about knowledge and justice, and how powers ought to be used only for the good of the people. Yet what justice could he give without enlightenment that only magic brought? What judgments could he give to a Council that held him in contempt? If his children had powers, wouldn't they despise him when they learned their strength was greater than his?

Tameron shivered, though he hadn't felt the cold before. Magic had surrounded him all his life. He'd dreamed for a long time about which Element would be his. Perhaps he’d become a warrior with sword and fire, or a healer like Mimn. Most of the time he'd hoped to have the airy mental gifts like his father, or draw strength and wisdom from the earth itself, like his tutor Tayn.

What was he supposed to do? Even if his father convince
d the Council not to send him away, he'd only be warming the chair till his children grew. He didn't understand why his father wanted to go against the law. Would
he
ever know? He didn't deserve the status that was given only to mages in this land. After all, he'd never be able to turn it to true power. Why, he wouldn't even know if people were telling him truth! Without the truth, there was no justice.

He stood up and paced ar
ound his comfortable, quiet sitting room. Was the Protector telling him the truth? Did it matter? It would be hard to leave this place for Randor's farm, never mind a stranger's house. He was sure that was better than becoming a figurehead, or worse, a joke.
What difference does it make? I won’t have a choice.

What was he going to do? Ordinary people could not leave through Wizardwall. The magical boundaries of force, sustained by the Guardians at the four Anchors of this land, allowed only mages through in either direction. Everyone was protected from the terrors of the outside world, whose armies had tried to invade in the past. And those like
him were prisoners. Only a few without powers were allowed to accompany wizards as servants and soldiers for rare trading expeditions Outside. Was this choking feeling something that all the rest lived with? How did they endure it? No way out, no way
out
--

Then he thought of one way out. The only one.

At least this way he wouldn't disgrace his father or himself by failing at a task he could never perform. The Protector would just have to find another heir. Surely there were others besides Lord Sidian and the Guardian who could claim descent from Lady Piran. Surely some of them had offspring of their own who had the talent for magic. His father was known for his wisdom. Perhaps someone else was already being trained to replace him. Oh, Blessed Lord and Lady, he'd been taught to rule--but he couldn't. Not without the powers that everyone, including himself, valued so much.

It wasn't as if he'd be missed. His father barely knew he was alive most of the time. It wasn't as bad as it used to be, but Tameron remembered earlier years
, when the Protector had looked at him resentfully the few times he'd spoken of Lady Aliana and her death. Tam knew he'd never be forgiven for killing his mother with his birth. If his brothers and sisters had lived, he never would have been born at all.

He opened a hidden drawer in the small table near his bed and took out a small portrait. Tam sat down on the bed to look at it. The picture glowed as if those in it were alive. His mother
Aliana, her blonde hair gleaming, sat with four small red-headed children piled like puppies next to her in a wide chair. A much younger Lord Sidian stood behind them. They all had magic, which was rare in any family.

Tam bowed his head, cursing. All of them. Except him.

One thrust through the ribs would end it quickly. He'd learned how fast death came last spring, when he had ridden on patrol with Commander Stine and other soldiers, as they scouted the northern hills near Lochil for rebels. Bandits had attacked them, and one went for him. He'd stabbed forward without thinking, and watched the man crumple and fall, dead before he hit the ground. He’d stared at the blood on his blade till Stine reminded him to clean it after the skirmish was over. He’d done as he was told, then threw up.

Tameron
unsheathed his dagger and laid it out on the bed. He didn't want to die! All his roads were shadowed. Down one of them, he failed Fiallyn Mor by pretending to be its ruler without any idea of what was really going on. If all his children were ordinary, who would rule the Council then? A small majority of the leading families supported his father, but he doubted they'd ever pay heed to
him
!

Where could he run? They'd find him any place he fled within the bounds of Wizardwall. No doubt the scandal would ruin his father's plans. No, the only solution was death. His death. It'd be given out as an accident or an assassination, and no one would ever
have to know that he had no magic.

Tameron's hands shook as he began to lift the dagger. He had to do it right the first time, or it'd be even worse.

He prayed to the Lord and Lady to forgive him for tossing aside Their gift of life. One hand held the blade, while the other moved in the tapping pattern of supplication on the bedside table as he whispered to the empty air.

Wait
, he thought.
Perhaps my father is wrong.
It was rare for all the children of any couple to have magic, especially when a man and woman were allowed to complete their Duty with only each other, instead of with different partners chosen by the Wizards' College. It had to be even rarer for all the children except for one to inherit these gifts.

He'd heard stories of the accident that had killed his brothers and sisters about a year before his birth. Each one had been strong in a separate Element. According to rumor, they'd tried to complete the Balance,
which was the only thing that would remove the barrier around the Empty Throne and the Dragon Crown, preserved forever by the death-curse of the last queen of Fiallyn Mor. The children's failure had killed them, and destroyed everything in the room except, of course, the barrier and what it protected.

He hadn't even known about them till he'd found this portrait, and was still forbidden to speak of them in public. Tam had
never seen his father so angry till the day he’d asked about them.

They'd all had magic, though. Why didn't he? Then again, what better way to keep him from experimenting on his own than to make him think he was powerless? A mage, especially a strong one like Lord Sidian, could 'shadow' the abilities of another. That must have been what his father had done!

Tameron almost wept with relief. It had to be the truth! If only he had
some
magic, he could do what his father wanted. Many commoners had enough power to show what Element belonged to them. If he could learn any kind of spell, then it wouldn't be so bad, no matter how hard the rest of it was.

He barred the door, searched in his hidden drawer again and drew out a small book.
The Golden Path
was for beginners, with basic spells in all four Elements.

Tameron remembered when he'd found it. His nursemaid had been growing larger all winter, and
had had to rest a lot. Randor told him it was because his wife was going to have a baby. Tam, only ten at the time, believed he was going to get a younger brother or sister--well, he was old enough to know it wasn't really true, but it didn't matter that much.

Finally the day came when Esa stayed groaning in her bed, calling for help. Randor
had fussed, the maids kicked them all out of the room, and Tam wandered around untended when the older man had been called back.

He’d gone
looking for his father, but became distracted when he’d discovered a musty old room full of trunks near the Protector's quarters. The book and the portrait had been packed together in one of the chests. He must have spent hours there before his father had finally found him and taken him to his own chambers for once. Esa had died trying to give birth to twin girls, and not even Coris Mimn, already the finest healer in Fiallyn Mor, had been able to help.

Tameron shook aside the memory of the last time he'd seen her. In a way the Lord and Lady must have been looking out for him by sending this memento of his own mother when they knew the woman he thought of as his real one was going to be taken from him.
Damn them!
he thought.
I never wanted to make that trade!
He calmed down quickly, though. He'd learned long ago that anger only got him sent away.

He looked at the book again. Maybe this time it'd help him. The first Element he wanted to summon was fire. It was the easiest to call, though the hardest to control. Tam found an old toy, a glass ball with a flickering wizard's flame inside, packed away in a box
in the back of his closet. It had been his night light, once. He darkened the room, and then chipped gently at the glass until a small piece fell off the top. Tameron held his hands over the little gap. "Like calls to like," he whispered, and then recited the spell that should cause his fingers to be surrounded by a burning glow.

Nothing happened. Three more Elements to go. Tameron tried the next exercise. Air was his father's strongest Element. It might be his as well. The spell looked easy enough. All he had to do was to sit on the floor and breathe a certain way, while intoning a chant. He waited patiently for the light breeze that would snuff the small flame in the glass.

Nothing happened then, either, except he became dizzy and bored. He knew he was doing it right! Tam threw the ball against the wall in frustration, where it broke into pieces. Fortunately the impact also smashed the fire out before it could catch on anything.

Tam took a deep breath, and carefully cleaned up the broken glass. He still had two Elements to go. He opened the shades of the lamps till he could see well again,
and then fetched a pair of his old work boots that had mud and a couple of pebbles on them from yesterday. He was glad they hadn't been cleaned yet.

Did he have enough dirt to make any of the Earth spells work? He separated the mud from the small stones, and placed them on his bedside table in two piles. The incantation he chose should draw them to each other, t
hough they sat several inches away. Tam studied the words and the gestures, and did as he was supposed to twice over just to make sure.

Again, nothing. The mud and the pebbles stubbornly sat apart. He fought back panic. He'd be proud to have water for an Element. Most healers were strong in that one, though some had it combined with earth.