Hatchling (Tameron and the Dragon) (25 page)

He hungrily gleaned every scrap of information he found about Outside from the horrible tales of atrocities against mages there. Perhaps he was supposed to be thankful his land was safe against the depredations of foreigners who devoured each other when they didn't have anything better to do. Tam wondered if the stories of treachery from ordinary people against the wizards of Fiallyn Mor were true, or only a useful excuse to keep them from power. Or had the commoners been provoked by something the mages did that
was never written down? Tayn had told him to read history carefully, since losers rarely had the last word.

Was this why some families on the Council were afraid of
having an ordinary person there? Maybe his own father believed he was ready to join a rebellion against the rule of mages after the way he'd spouted off against Tigran in the audience room. Tam knew better than that, after listening to Jarrett, but others might not think so. If only his father would trust him!

Tam loosened his cramped muscles when the knock on the door told him that his study-time was over. As his escort took him down to the drill-hall, he convinced them to allow him a brief stop at the
cobbler’s. He was going to get blisters soon if he didn't get bigger boots, and it wasn't proper to appear in any formal setting in slippers. The old man measured him in silence, and Tameron took care to speak kindly to the fellow. Most of his guards kept their faces blank, even when he winced putting the old boots back on, but their eyes spoke volumes.

He was probably late, but they proceeded at a noticeably slower pace than before. This silent sympathy moved Tam more than words could have done.

As they arrived at the hall, Tam noticed that Mauric was there already, warming up in a corner away from the others. Since everyone stared at the claw marks on his leg as he changed into armor and the practice boots, he told the young mage all about his fight against the wolves in a voice loud enough so anyone who wanted to could overhear without breaking his father's command.

Where's Lorin? I hope he's not on punishment detail for trying to talk to me. He didn't make much sense, but if he's involved with the dragons, he could get in real trouble if I don't stop him.
He supposed he'd better wait till his father quit having him watched so intently or he'd just make things worse.

Oh, it felt so good to move freely, even with all his heavy gear on! Tameron took it fairly easy, but did better than he expected with the weight of the armor, as well as with the sword. All
that wood chopping had paid off. In fact, he had to stop and let out the straps around his shoulder plates.

The time came for informal sparring
, once he was fully loosened up and ready to fight. Mauric still hadn't found a partner, so Tam chose the young mage for his first bout. Mauric was clearly out of practice, but remembered some of his old lessons. Tameron didn't mind, since he wanted to get back into form slowly himself.

Stine came over and watched. Her presence didn't make Tam as nervous as it usually did. "Young man, you wouldn't be half bad if you did this more than once or twice a year," she said with her usual edge. Mauric bit his lip, but nodded acknowledgment. The commander continued, "Lord Tameron, let's see how much you lost over the winter. Mauric,
go spar with Remer. He's a bit closer to your level, and it'll do you good to work against both a sword and shield."

Mauric nodded and obeyed. Then Tam squared off against the commander. He was pleased to find his reflexes were still sharp, almost as sharp as they were the day he'd fought the wolves. Stine probed his defenses, only this time she didn't get through. "Rural life must suit you, though you're still too thin," she said afterwards. "Don't be afraid to fill your plate, even closed up in your room the way they have you most of the day.
I'll
make sure you don't go soft!"

Tam bowed and thanked her. He'd been surprised to see the older woman panting for breath, though if she'd gotten serious, the shoe would have been on the other foot.
I may have held her off today, but she was going easy on me because of my leg, I'm sure
.

The rest of the session wasn't bad at all. A few of the other guards in the hall glanced at him in friendly fashion, as if letting him know what they thought of his father's orders. Tam forgot everyone else when Lady Kiliane stopped by to greet Mauric. Her long black hair was bound in a net edged with pearls, while her shimmering blue gown had highlights like running water. His current sparring partner nearly
broke through his guard as his attention was divided.

She held her nose and laughed when she stood next to the young mage. "I do hope you intend to bathe before you leave here," she said in a husky voice. "Especially since I must sit next to you at the mid-day meal!" Then she gazed at Tam. "Lord Tameron, I must ask the same favor of you. If that
is
you behind that ghastly armor, that is."

Tam rapidly disarmed his current opponent,
and offered an arm to help the poor fellow up. The guard waved him away, scrambled to his feet on his own, and sought another partner. Tameron then took his helmet off and bowed to Mauric's friend. "I am sorry, my lady, that I ignored you at first. I did not mean to be rude, I assure you."

"Well," she said, looking down at the ground, "I really shouldn't have distracted you."

"My lady, you do that by existing," Tameron said, but shut up as soon as he saw Mauric flush red. He retired quickly to the baths and allowed the two of them to talk by themselves. Unfortunately a too-efficient servant took the practice boots before Tam could keep them.

Lady Kiliane had apparently soothed her friend's temper, as Mauric was still friendly at the mid-day meal. The Protector looked pleased at their camaraderie. Tameron reminded himself that the girl was the young mage's partner and not his, and avoided paying any more compliments.

After they ate, Tameron and Kiliane accompanied Lord Sidian to the audience room, while Mauric went to learn magic from the Guardian. That made sense to Tam. Mauric's powers were of the earth and so were his aunt's, though she was also strong in those of water.

As they walked to the audience room, the Protector commented on what a handsome couple he and Kiliane made with their contrasting coloring.
It's almost like Father’s trying to throw me and Lady Kiliane together, I wonder why? He has to know how close she and Mauric are. Could he be thinking of an alliance to keep the Sandegas happy?
He was intrigued by the possibility, though he knew any plans meant nothing until after his first Festival.
At least Mauric and Kiliane have been allowed to choose for themselves so far. It's probably nothing anyway. Father's undoubtedly talking to the families of half-a-dozen girls about me.
Still, it didn't hurt to
look
at the poised young woman near him.

When they entered the audience room, the Protector sat in the cameowood chair, while Lady Kiliane took the glittering seat he'd used last fall when hearing cases with the Guardian. Tameron asked a guard to fetch him a chair from one of the other rooms. Perhaps this was a test to see how he'd take a deliberate slight. If so, he wasn't about to lose his temper or endure hours of standing.

The cases they heard that afternoon were much like the ones Tam had judged with the Guardian's help. Lady Kiliane offered suggestions in her low, soft voice. Tameron tried to speak, especially when he questioned how much a merchant actually paid for crafts from villagers who lived out in the country. However, his father's impatient manner soon kept him quiet.
After all, how do I know who's telling the truth?
He knew better than to ask the Protector for help. The Guardian had encouraged him to do so with her, but the rules were different today. Tameron concentrated on trying to guess if people were speaking rightly by their manner before his father. Who would dare lie before the strongest wizard in Fiallyn Mor?

The Protector called a halt to the session late in the afternoon. Tam was glad he hadn't stood.
Even after sitting for so long, he had to hide the limp the boots gave him.

He was escorted to his room to dress properly for evening, and was stunned to find his wardrobe full of new clothing. Tameron tried on a couple of the tunics, and was glad to see how much better they fitted him. The breeches were also longer and fuller cut, which made them a great deal more comfortable. The shirts were still a bit tight in the shoulders, but at least the sleeves reached all the way down to his wrists. No doubt a busy crew had spent hours making them during the past week or so. Tam looked at the embroidery with narrowed eyes. The style seemed more elaborate than usual, more like the kind his father used to wear. Had he really
become tall enough for clothing the Protector had once used? He stroked the sleeve of one shirt, feeling the quality of the material
. Oh, Father, does this mean you're not so angry with me now?
It gave him a warm feeling that he hadn't been forgotten.

H
e hoped they
had
been his father's. That meant more than anything, though they were made of fine cloth that would keep out the winter wind. In several cases, the beaded embroidery was apparently made with jewels, not just glass, while one ceremonial tunic was stitched with buttons worth more than most of the furnishings in his room. And, who knew? Perhaps even his father saw this as a sign that his son was truly growing up.

Tameron
finally noticed the footwear. Instead of his old boots, none of which fit him, his wardrobe rack was full of magnificent slippers, some styled properly for formal occasions. One even looked like a pair of boots, but from softer material. He tried that pair on. Oh, what joy his feet found in the soft padding inside! He began to toss the offending boots to the back of the wardrobe, when suddenly something occurred to him.

But I can't be right about that
. These slippers are just until the boot maker finds time to make me more. He only had my new measurements today.
Tam checked around his rooms. All his books had been dusted, though his old storybook was still wedged in its old spot, and the dirt behind the chest in the privy was now gone. No, as much as he longed for the comfort of the slippers, however suitable for all occasions, he'd better hang onto the boots.
Besides, I'll only have to wear them till the new ones get done. That can't be terribly long. If I leave this pair behind, the servants will probably throw them out, especially after the way I've complained about them. I'll just have to make sure I don't limp, or Father will insist I wear the slippers.
He pushed back the moment of fear that had inspired him to change his mind in the first place. He sighed when he put back the slippers and forced his feet back into the boots. He hoped he was just being foolish.

Then he was escorted to dinner in his new splendor. This time he actually looked forward to it. Even though Mauric and Kiliane generally talked to each other, they usually had a few words for him as well.

Tameron was happy to see the Guardian had decided to grace the chamber with her presence. His father spent most of the meal speaking with his sister, but having the Protector ignore him didn't hurt as much as it used to. He remembered the new clothes in his wardrobe, and knew actions spoke louder than words.

It was pleasant to converse with Mauric and Kiliane. He found her distracting, but knew that she truly
wished to be with another no matter what his father said. He'd had enough of wooing someone who didn't love him, and he wasn't about to try it again. Once he returned to Kelemath he'd have a better chance. This Midsummer would be his first Festival. Surely he'd find someone them...if only Marysa was right about that!

After dinner
Tam went to the library with Lady Kiliane and the Protector to discuss the afternoon's cases. He asked a few questions, mostly about the merchant he suspected of lying, but gave up when his father and Kiliane began speaking mind-to-mind.
She must be strong in the element of Air as well as Fire. No wonder he wanted to train her in preference to any other candidates.
He wasn't about to leave even when he felt shut out. He had rights as long as he was going to be his father's heir. If he wasn't, perhaps his refusal to take second place would force the Protector to tell him sooner rather than later.
If I'm to keep my promise to Aylar, I can't do it as a figurehead!

Kiliane looked embarrassed when his father finally dismissed them for the evening. "I didn't know you couldn't hear me when I was using my mind-voice," she said, after the Protector had already departed.

"You were there at the Council when your family complained that I had no powers and therefore shouldn't be allowed to inherit from the Protector," he said. His escort waited for him as they stood in the hall by the door to library.

"I thought they meant you just weren't very strong, not that you didn't have any at all. And you were so brave! My uncle was angry for days when half his allies deserted him after you fell. You must have
some
magic. I mean, any commoner would have drunk the whole cup and died."

"I suppose you're right," he said, unable to admit to his weakness in front of her.

"And it's my fault anyway. Not everybody has strong Air magic as it is. The Guardian spoke to me about it once, but I keep forgetting. To be honest, I'm surprised your father didn't send me and Mauric back to Kelemath as soon as you returned. He's been so worried about you."