Hatchling (Tameron and the Dragon) (21 page)

He waited for Stine's reaction. Her face was blank. Tameron looked down at the floor. "I knew it was going to be like this when I returned. The Protector is angry, isn't he?" His father had shouted at him the night he'd tried to die. He ought to be used to it, but he couldn't help remembering the other night, the one when his father had spoken so kindly to him.

"I've been keeping my armor on when I talk to him," Stine said tactfully.

"Is that why no one's allowed to say anything to me? Or has he told them I've done something evil so they all hate me now?" He knew Stine served the Protector, not him, but he had to know.

The commander shrugged, though there was a sad look in her eyes. "It's for your own good. I'm not supposed to speak to you, either. Your father has his reasons. Better this than a beating like the ones I had from my own parents at times. When you've proven yourself trustworthy, I'm sure he'll relent."

Tameron would rather endure physical pain and get it over with than this emotional torture. Then he wondered at Stine's words. "Trustworthy? I don't understand! Why shouldn't I be loyal? I haven't done anything wrong!"

"I've heard stories of people kidnapped by their enemies and then returned to their families after the ransom was paid, swearing the evil-doers had treated them kindly. They seemed normal when they first got back, till they suddenly slew their own kin and then claimed not to remember what they'd done. Some evil spell had been placed on them while they were captive, and the memory of it erased till the time came for them to act," Stine said. "Anything could have been done to you, and how would you know? Anyone looking at you would say you had been starved and beaten already. If this family was so kind, why didn't they protect you better from those wolves that clawed your leg?"

"I
wanted
to fight them!" Tameron said passionately. "You should have seen how many I killed! And when I fell, Aylar pulled me back just in time, while Jarrett struck the one that would have gotten me!"

"Two grown men, letting you take the forefront?" Stine asked sarcastically. "Now I really want to talk to both of them. And so, I suspect, does your father and the Guardian. They have to account for all the time you were away, and that means looking into the memories of the people you were with. Till they can do that, how can they trust you?"

Tameron gritted his teeth with embarrassment. He'd like to see one memory that Marysa had of him down at the bottom of Kadramas Lake. "Then put me in a cell where you're safe from me!" he cried. At least that way he wouldn't be on constant public display while everyone watched and wondered when he would go mad. His memories couldn't be wrong!

"It won't be as bad as you think," Stine said gently. "I've been on punishment details that were far worse, believe me. You don't get to be my age without making a few mistakes. It shouldn't take your father or the Guardian long to find out what really happened. If what you say about this Tigran is true, I'd rather not be in his place when the Guardian deals with
him
. If this family really helped you that much, they'll be rewarded as much as your father can manage."

"I hope so," Tam said. Stine hadn't mentioned Randor yet. His old servant's fate was probably going to be used to make him do whatever his father wanted. No doubt the Protector was more upset over his political problems than about anything that might have happened to his son.
It doesn't matter,
Tameron thought, even though it hurt a lot.
It's worth playing the game to protect people like Aylar and Dorena. Maybe that's why Lorin and his friend were so glad to see me. That could explain why whoever shot the white arrows at my attackers did it.

Stine stood up. "We've delayed long enough."

Tameron looked at the table again. Even the scraps would make a good supper for the family he'd stayed with. "Thank you," he said, gesturing at the food. "It's so much for just one person, isn't it?"

The commander smiled grimly. "Don't worry, it won't go to waste. Kitchen workers have families, too."

Tam remembered the food Marysa had brought home from the inn, and silently agreed. He rose, straightened his sword, and arranged his cape in the proper fashion. It felt odd to worry how it looked, rather than how warm it was against a cold wind. He hoped he wouldn't forget the past few months. A real Protector had to serve all of Fiallyn Mor, not just the rich and powerful.

The rest of his escort was outside waiting for him and Stine. He felt like a prisoner again as they gathered around him, and he gritted his teeth with anger. Then he forced himself to calm down. No matter how furious his father was with him now, he ought to be pleased when he learned his son was eager to take on the duties required of him. Tameron knew he could stand any punishment, no matter how unjust, as long as he kept his promise to Aylar in mind. Ordinary people had to endure as much or more without any hope at all.

They moved forward. His leg began to hurt again as Stine and the soldiers walked quickly into the heart of the palace. Tam concealed his limp as long as he could, but refused to ask for a slower pace even when the pain shortened his steps. Maybe he should have chosen to wear the indoor slippers after all.

The commander signaled a halt once they were at the door of the audience room, where
he had given justice with the Guardian's help only a few months ago. "Lord Tameron, you must leave your sword here," she said, though she looked embarrassed at making the request.

As the Protector's son, he'd had the right to wear the blade wherever he pleased. In fact, Stine had encouraged him to do so. "I am not my father's enemy," he said, though he knew the protest was futile.

"You know why. You're no threat to so many of us, but you cannot see Lord Sidian this way." Stine held out her hand. Her face was red.

"As the Protector wishes," Tameron said reluctantly, and complied. "May I soon earn his trust." Once the knowledge of his identity ha
d returned, his experiences became a complete whole. Only the accident itself and the first days afterwards were missing. He hoped the Guardian had learned all she needed already from her brief possession of Dorena. That should assure them that he carried no poison in his mind.

Stine handed his blade to one of the soldiers outside the room.
He entered the high-ceilinged, beautiful room with her at his side. Even when he was unarmed they thought him a threat! At least the other soldiers stayed outside, but the commander kept her hand on the hilt of her sword.

Suddenly it became too much for him, despite his resolut
ion to be strong. Only this morning he'd risen from a ragged bed in a tiny cabin and said his farewells to the family who'd cared for him for months. In his mind he still felt the light brush of Marysa's final kiss on his cheek. Now he was being treated like a traitor by his own father! No matter how reasonable it might seem, it still hurt. Tam took several deep breaths to keep from weeping, or falling to his knees and crying out his anger and despair.

Once he
regained a semblance of calm, he bowed towards the Protector and the Guardian, who sat on the chairs on the dais. Then he began walking forward, though he longed to run and beg for an embrace, an embrace like the one he remembered from that last night in Kelemath.

He had to build that bridge somehow.

When he was several feet from the few shallow steps leading to the chairs, the Protector spoke. "That's close enough."

Tam stopped, bowed again, and stood patiently for his father's command. He forced himself not to show any emotion at all, let alone
the confusion that tightened his stomach and made him wish he hadn't eaten anything.
If I'm not welcome, then let me go!

"Explain yourself," the Protector said. "Have you any idea how frightened your absence made us? We can't believe you simply ran away!"

"I went for an early morning ride," Tameron said. He recited his story again, except for the parts that belonged only to him and Marysa, though he suspected that the Guardian now knew some of it through Dorena. Then he lifted up his hair to show the scar behind his ear. "It wasn't their fault they didn't know who I was," he said. "Perhaps I was safer that way. Even Tigran thought I was the son who'd died the year before."

His father's face softened for a moment, then hardened again. "I hope this story is true. How are you now?" he asked in a neutral tone.

"I remember everything but the fall itself, and the first few days after it," Tam said. "I haven't had a bad headache for over a month." He was too proud to mention the ache in his leg or the pinching of the too-small boots.
They wouldn't care even if they knew. No, that's not true. The Guardian did all she could for me when I was sick the last time.

"How convenient for your memory to return just when we found you," his father said dryly.

But that's the way it really happened. Why is it so hard to believe?
He appealed to his aunt for help. There was more compassion in the drape of her hood than in the Protector's whole face. "My lady, you were in Dorena's mind. You know what she knew. Tell my father why her family is afraid of mages. Since you spoke through Tigran as well, you know they have good reasons for it." He was tired of having to defend himself. "It's a shameful thing when mages who are supposed to protect the ordinary people prey on them instead. Dorena and her family had a right to be afraid of magic. Marysa still carries the scar of what Honnold's dog did to her because she refused to put herself in shame for him!"

The Guardian coughed, then spoke. "I fear the Protector has not said everything in his heart today. Many questioned your father's wisdom when he insisted that you should be his heir
, even when you showed no evidence of powers or potential for them. These people became louder, much louder, after you disappeared. Some of the Council did not search for you as diligently as they could, or I suspect had evil motives when they did. They're trying to force my brother to adopt Lady Kiliane of the a' Sandega clan instead. You may remember her from when you attended Council in Kelemath. The Protector has brought her here to continue her training, should he be forced to accept her."

Oh, yes, he remembered her. Tam felt his face go hot as he recalled the dream he'd had about her, the dream that had impelled him to go on that ride in the first place. "I'm not trying to run from my duty," he said. "I learned that lesson already. After giving justice here and seeing what happens to people who don't get it, I know what must be done. Father, please believe me! Let me
have your training, too! I've spent a long time at my studies, but the Guardian showed me how to use them. I don't mean to sound hungry for power for its own sake, but there's so much that needs to be done!" The lessons he'd learned in Dorena's cabin were the most important ones.

The Protector's face relaxed again, if only for
a brief moment. Tameron kept talking. He couldn't let his opportunity pass by. "All my life I've heard how well you love justice, Father. What justice is there when ordinary people are afraid to even ask for it? Jarrett believed in the Guardian's grace well enough to seek an audience, though he swore he had to pay some of the servants just to see her."

The Guardian interrupted. "I think Jarrett was mistaken. Those who wish to see me must pledge some of their wealth, but only in proportion to what they have. It's always returned once justice is given out."

"Are you sure?" Tam asked, amazed by his own boldness. "I remember, I said it was a temporary judgment. Maybe he never got it back because of that. Or maybe he only got part of it. He could have just been complaining, my lady, but maybe he really was asked for all he had, and not just a portion of it."

"I shall make inquiries," she said in a thoughtful tone.

"Thank you, my lady," Tameron said. "Aylar gave up without trying. He thought all mages were as bad as Tigran. I beg you, Father, show him it isn't true! Show them you really mean what you say!"

The Protector's face became an angry mask. "I wish I could, but it's not that easy. Tigran always had a name for greed, and his relatives are even worse. However, he's still a mage. The best I can do is to put him where he can do the least harm."

Tam couldn't believe it. "Father, the mages deal justice to the rest of the people, but you deal it to the mages. If Tigran goes unpunished, then others will believe they can act the same way. You once told me that the true test of power is how someone acts towards those without it."

"My own power isn't as great you think it is," the Protector replied, "and it's been lessened by your stupidity! Tigran has been rebuked already for his thieving ways. That's why someone with his connections is in a town as smal
l as Bogatay in the first place."

"Does that mean those who live there don't matter?" Tameron said. "Does that mean wizards with highly-placed relatives are allowed to steal, and those who don't have them aren't?"

"You have no idea what you're talking about," his father said. "I see I've kept you too sheltered. It's not as easy as you think. I must do things to keep my power that I'm not proud of, but the alternative is worse. Most of the time I think I'm the only one who gives a damn about those in this land who don't have magic. Just last year a mage wanted to change the land-law and turn all commoners into serfs because he lost his own inheritance for having magic in the land he came from. He's not the worst! Every once in a while someone comes here from the southwest and wants to own ordinary people as slaves! Imagine what would happen if one of
them
took my place!"