Hatchling (Tameron and the Dragon) (20 page)

Tameron kept his eyes closed during the odd journey. He'd forced them open once when he'd been summoned by his father several years ago, and had been sick when it was over. He remembered what it'd been like--no sight, no sound, only a dead grayness and a horrifying sense of imbalance that had turned his stomach inside out when he'd emerged into the real world again. As long as he allowed himself to travel blind, it didn't bother him so much. He was glad Mauric knew his business with the weights. Every journey like this had its risks, for those near the departure or the arrival point, and for those who traveled this way. He swallowed back his fear.

After what seemed like a longer time than usual, he felt solid ground beneath his feet.
Mauric's good
, he thought.
He matched us really well.
He remembered one time when he'd fallen nearly half a foot because the mage in charge of moving him had been terrified of landing them too low with their feet in the ground. Tameron gradually opened his eyes and saw the courtyard of the Guardian's palace in Lochil. Mauric began to crumple to the ground. Tam caught him, but the weight made his left leg hurt. The place was oddly deserted.
Perhaps not so odd,
he thought. A mage who wasn't sure who was going to travel with him could land anywhere if the counterweight was off.

A young, dark-skinned woman in a red gown rushed forward. "Mauric, it's all right," she said, her black hair flying in the breeze. She made several fluid gestures in the air,
and then placed her hands on the young man's head while Tam supported him.

Mauric opened his eyes and stood up, though he was pale as death behind his freckles. "Kiliane," he whispered, and embraced the girl. They walked off together as if Tameron didn't exist. Small thanks he'd gotten for keeping the young mage from hitting the ground!

He looked around again. He didn't see Randor anywhere. Tam glanced upward and saw a banner waving from the highest turret of the castle, with a bright blue star on a white background. It was just like the one the soldiers had carried. His father was here. He didn't know if that was good or bad, but he was glad of it anyway.
I'll try to do what my father wants now,
he thought.
There's so much I
can
do if they'll only give me a chance.

Commander Stine and some of her guards approached from the palace side of the courtyard. Lorin broke away and rushed towards him. He knelt, clasped Tameron's knees, and said, "He that was lost has been found. He who was gone has returned."

"Lorin, don't make such a fuss. I'm all right," Tam said, and reached down to help his friend up. Lorin shook his head, and stayed on his knees.

Another guard came forward and pulled Lorin up. "Stop that, it's way too soon. Besides, he's not back in Kelemath yet."

Stine marched the rest of the guards over and snapped at both of them. "Barracks detail for you two for a week if you don't obey orders!" Lorin and the other man went back into formation, but not without a backward glance at Tameron.

The commander ordered them all to take up positions around the Protector's son. Tam allowed himself to be escorted inside. How large and magnificent the rooms were! Why, Aylar's cabin could easily fit inside one hall.

"Lorin, what's going on?" he asked quietly as they stepped forward. His friend opened his mouth to reply, only to be hushed into silence by a glare from Stine.

What's wrong? I'
m being treated like a prisoner.
He tried to bear it well, but he'd lost the habit of keeping his face in the approved mask required of the Protector's heir.

He kept an eye out for Randor as they walked through the halls of the castle. Surely his old servant would tell him what was going on. He saw familiar faces, but as soon as he caught someone's eye, they would turn away.
I've come back from the dead,
he thought half-jokingly.
Isn't that worth at least a friendly greeting?

Tameron began to shake. He'd had breakfast only a few hours ago, but he felt hollow inside, as he always did after traveling this way. Mauric was better off than he was. The poor fellow was undoubtedly still exhausted, but at least someone cared about him. Surely this was some kind of mistake. He looked at Stine to see if her expression gave any clue to his situation, but she kept her eyes sternly ahead.

The commander suddenly stopped. "I'm supposed to take you straight to your father, Lord Tameron, but I think we'd better stop here first."

Tam noticed they were at the entrance to the baths and became uncomfortably aware of how he must look and smell. Bathing had been an ordeal in the small cabin, especially in cold weather. Sleeping in the barn probably hadn't improved him much.

The attendants said nothing to him, instead of their usual animated chatter. That bothered him, but he gratefully sank into the hot, chin-deep water. This was the first time he'd been fully warm all the way through since...well, since he and Marysa had been together behind her mother's back. The claw-marks on his leg looked more impressive than they really were. Just as well. Tam doubted he'd be allowed any more healing for this injury than what Dorena had given, since it appeared he was in some kind of disgrace. He'd better look after it himself.
Oh, Lord and Lady, bless Dorena for having the courage to stand up for me,
he thought. If he'd come back much sooner, he wouldn't have been able to walk this far without help. As much as he loved his father, he knew better to expect any indulgence.
No, that's not fair. It's the Council's fault,
he thought. He still remembered that night in Kelemath before he'd left on the journey to Lochil.
He
does
care about me, if only a little. Surely that hasn't changed. I know he'll be angry with me because I took off the way I did, but it won't last long. I hope.

Tam knew he had to convince the Protector that he was fit to be his father's heir and bear this temporary disgrace as well as he could.
I hope it's temporary,
he thought. Who would speak for the servants who scurried around him if he didn't? They were clearly frightened, judging by the looks on their faces. It wasn't right. No one should have to be afraid. Someone should remember them, and all the people like them.

It's not right to starve because of injustice, or think it's useless to plead for what's right, like Aylar. A good thing I was here in Lochil when Jarrett brought his case
.
He soaked blissfully in the bath.
Even if I lost Marysa because of it.
Surely the Guardian would have made the same decision without him, but maybe not. Maybe she would have waited till she'd heard from Tigran, or decided to let Jarrett sit awhile because he'd already delayed so long.

Tameron looked down at his scarred leg through the clear water. It was worth the risk to protect those who needed help from wolves, particularly those with two legs instead of four.

One of the servants, a young man Tam didn't recognize, coughed and looked embarrassed. Tameron took the hint. He'd been stalling, not just soaking. He got out, dried himself, and dressed without assistance. At least the hot water had eased the pain in his leg. The fresh shirt and vest were tight around his shoulders, but loose everywhere else. Both the shirt and fine wool trousers were too short. No doubt he'd need a whole new set of clothes. Tam sucked in his breath as he jammed his feet into the boots someone had brought from his room. He'd need larger ones, though it was pleasant to have stockings that were truly clean. A good thing he'd been able to use Aylar's old boots when he lived at the cabin. Tam was tempted by the comfortable-looking inside slippers, but knew this first meeting was going to be strictly formal. He'd show lack of respect by wearing casual footwear, and suspected his father would not appreciate it.

Most of the servants left. The young man motioned for him to follow, took him into a room nearby,
and then departed. Stine sat at a small table heaped with food next to an empty chair and said, "Sit down and have a bite. I've never had to be transported through the air by a mage, but your father's always hungry as a bear in spring whenever it happens to him."

Tam's mouth began watering at the sight of so much laid out just for him. The whole family--Dorena's whole family, including Jarrett--could eat well on what waited for him on this table. All his favorites were there. Boiled
hicki
, mashed and dripping with butter, fresh plums out of season from a hothouse in Kelemath, roast beef with a small dish of fireweed sauce, pickled vegetables fragrant with spices, and honey cake topped with raisins filled the platters in front of him. In the center was a small container of salt that Dorena would make last for a month.

He sat down and filled his plate with shaking hands. Tameron tried to eat slowly. It'd been so long since he'd known he could have all he wanted without making any
one else go short, even when they no longer had to fear actual starvation. Here there were no such limits. No small boy's eyes gazed at him, silently begging for just one more bite.

He was surprised at how quickly his first helping disappeared. Stine smiled and laid her hand on his shoulder. "Better take it easy, lad, or you won't keep it down. Didn't they feed you?"

"I had my fair share, but they didn't have much. They didn't count on me making a hole in it, either. The last week or so was a lot better, when they knew it didn't have to last till spring, but still nothing like this. I remember wishing one of the cows would break something so we would have to slaughter it." Tameron sat back in the chair, though he dearly wanted to clear the table. "They--they were very kind to me." He longed to see them now.
Probably more than they want to see me.

Stine sighed. "At least you're alive. At first we thought you'd been killed or more likely, abducted, by the same people who paid off that girl Liselda. The Guardian didn't think either one was true, but she was the only one. A good thing she was right. We were all afraid your father's enemies had you, and were just lying low. You could have come back in pieces, or been quietly buried somewhere for all we knew. What really happened?"

"I went for a ride early that morning by myself and was caught in a storm. I made it to the woods and camped out for a little while. I probably should have stayed there. I started looking for better shelter near sunset and found a clearing. I was riding towards some smoke. I was hoping it was a cook fire or maybe even a hut. Then--then I must have fallen, because I don't remember anything after that till I woke up in the cabin. Dorena said I'd been out for several days, or at least not really awake." Tam lifted up the hair in back of his left ear and showed Stine the scar. "I must have hit my head. I was sick for a while, and didn't remember much more than part of my name till just a week ago. My head hurt whenever I tried." That was partly true. Tameron decided not to mention how little he'd wanted to know.

Stine shook her head. "Every mage in Fiall
yn Mor looked for you. It was given out that you were receiving special training on how to handle some very unusual powers, and had ended up lost on a quest. The people you say were so kind certainly kept you hidden well enough."

"They were afraid of mages," Tam said. "Tigran in Bogatay was bleeding them dry and threatening to tell Lord Honnold where they were if they didn't pay up. He wanted even more from Marysa, and used his powers to hurt her when she said no. Honnold swore he was innocent of their deaths when he was up here, but that didn't stop him from taking their land. Jarrett kept Tigran's men from killing me when the mage came after the whole family to
fetch Marysa for himself and her child for Honnold." It was a little more complicated than that, but not much.

"Sounds like a fairy tale," Stine said, but she didn't look as grim as she had before. "You can see why we feared the worst, though. Nobody saw you go, and some people thought you'd been taken away by magic. Mauric himself was under suspicion till the Protector took the fellow into his own service."

"I'm surprised the chestnut mare I rode didn't come back, you know, the one with the white face and nice gait."

"I've seen her around." Stine looked thoughtful. "And the groom didn't report her coming back, either. Now that's interesting. I think I'll have another talk with him and his assistants, too. How did you get past the guards? Come now, lad, confess. If you can get past them, so can an assassin."

Tameron hated to get any of them in trouble, but Stine was right. "I waited till the guard out in the hall took a drink from his flask and then had to take a leak."

The commander shook her head. "And didn't call another guard to take over while he went, because he knew he wasn't suppose
d to have the flask, or didn't want to share. Well, he was demoted anyway. Maybe I ought to have a healer cure his liking for strong drink. Just for his own good, of course." Her grim smile boded ill for that guard, whoever he was. "But whatever possessed you to take off like that in the first place?"

"I might as well have been a prisoner! I was kept inside the castle and had guards in my lap every moment. I just wanted to be alone. Maybe even pretend to be like other people, before Father
came here and I was under his eye, too." Tameron bowed his head. "I should have known better. But don't blame the family that helped me! Aylar found me and took me back to the cabin, even though he said later he thought I was going to die. Dorena and Marysa cared for me, and Jorry was like a little brother. When Jarrett came, I thought I recognized his voice but I didn't know why. Then we fought against a pack of wolves, and I remembered a little bit about the bandits from last spring." He knew better than to mention the other man's dragon tattoo. "Jarrett started talking about me being a protector, and...and it all came back."