Hatchling (Tameron and the Dragon) (32 page)

BOOK: Hatchling (Tameron and the Dragon)
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He took a deep breath. He didn't want to lie to his servant, even a little, but it might help both of them. "Randor," he said softly, "what's the easiest way to get to Warding?"

The old man's face lightened. "Return to Kelemath first, and head west. Oh, lad, they dredge bodies out of the Anchor Pool every month."

"I know." Tam remembered his father claiming to see his own among that number. "But not as many as go in, right?"

"No. They're probably stuck in the mud below."

"Or they could be free." Tameron looked o
ut of the window again. "Please…please hide my armor in the stables, but only if you can do it without Stine becoming suspicious. Remember the chestnut mare I was riding the day I got lost? If she's still there, put the stuff in her stall. If I have the right gear, I can pose as one of the guards there by the Pool long enough to try going in. The weight will take me straight to the bottom, where Shapechanger is said to live. If there's nothing but mud, I'll have a knife with me and cut the straps before I drown. Remember how long it took the Guardian to find me. If I can't get to Warding, I can stay gone till Midsummer. Or maybe forever. The dragons in the hills can probably use another sword."

Randor slowly nodded, his face a mask of grief. "It's damned little. I can manage that much."

"I hope your family appreciates what you've done for them," Tameron said, as he finally embraced the man who'd been more of a father to him than his own. "I just wish I had one, too."

"Wait, you can't go out there like that. Your feet are still like ice," Randor said. "Take a pair of my boots."

"And where do I put them when I get back to my quarters? You'll get in trouble, and they'll take them away if I go someplace without them." He swallowed back tears. "I'll steal a pair the next time I go to drill. Oh, Randor, this has to be good-bye. I don't know if I'll ever see you again." Tears ran down his face then as he couldn't hold them back any more.

"And may the Single Star guide you to safety," the old man said gently, patting him on the shoulder.

"I hope something does!" Tam said wryly. Then he tore himself away. The night was passing quickly, and he dare not be gone from his room when the guards looked in on him at daybreak.

He
climbed back on the ledge and took his makeshift shirt-rope off the dragon on the second level. He was a fool to leave such an obvious trail. He had to watch where he stepped. His feet were going numb again from the cold stone, so it was difficult to feel his way.

He walked carefully to the right of the dragon.
I wish the ledge went all the way to my room. How am I going to get to another level? It's a lot easier coming down than going up. I wish there was another dragon here.

Tam saw the solution as he came to the gap. It was too wide for him to jump, but if he backtracked to the corner behind him, he could climb up or down on the jutting stones that formed a zigzag pattern there. He could just guess what Stine probably thought of
that
arrangement, if she worried about thieves. In fact, he should have come down from the third level at the corner anyway, rather than jumping down onto the second-level dragon from the edge above. He'd remember that next time.

He went back past Randor's now-closed casement to the corner, clambered up as quietly as he could, and then walked along the ledge above towards the Guardian's quarters. Once he
made it to the dragon nearest her window, he could hang onto both the strip he'd left and the blanket dangling outside his window.

He
approached the area cautiously. Despite the care he took, he couldn't help stumbling as he scraped his toes against the side and discovered his right foot wasn't as numb as he'd thought.

The casement slowly swung open. Tam flattened himself against the wall and hastily stuffed the linen strip from the first dragon into his tunic.

It didn't do any good. "Tameron? Are you all right?" asked the hooded figure looking out the window.

"Yes, my lady," he said with a sigh. He walked into her line of sight to prove it. She might call for the guards or his father otherwise. "I was tired of being penned up in my room." He had to keep her from making a fuss. He'd never escape if the walls
and roofs were watched.

Then he stepped out onto the dragon.
He could stand there, as the back was quite wide.

He looked out over the courtyard. Lochil was surrounded by fog on the lower levels. It must have moved in while he was in Randor's room. In fact, the whole scooped-out basin that held Kadramas Lake was full of white cloud, like a mattress.

"That's quite far enough," the Guardian said.

"Of course, my lady," he said. Tam felt dizzy for a moment,
and decided he'd be safer sitting down. He straddled the statue as if it were a horse. It was like being on an enormous ship adrift on a pale sea. The dragon's back felt almost warm, as if it were alive and straining to fly. He smiled at himself then. Riding on the back of a dragon...if only they were real!

"You heard everything, I suppose," his aunt said.

"Enough," he said. He stroked the dragon's stony head. "How will I die, I wonder? Or will I simply be a prisoner all my life? Father sees no way out, and neither do I."

"Come inside," she ordered sharply. "It's too cold out there for us to talk like this. You're shaking like a leaf. I don't want to call the guards. It'd only make things worse."

She was right. He was feeling odd now, as if the cold had crept into his brain. He could swing down into his room with the shirt-piece he'd left around the dragon's hind foot, but decided it was better to obey, if only for now.

Tam slowly began to stand again, though his head swam.
I'd better crawl,
he thought vaguely, and went back down on his hands and knees. Somehow he made his way close enough to the window to feel the Guardian's arms helping to guide him inside. He collapsed on the floor as his legs suddenly refused to support him.
At least it's warm in here.
Apparently the climb to and from Randor's room had taken more out of him than he thought.

"Sit up," the Guardian snapped.

He reluctantly obeyed, and gratefully drank the hot cup of tea she gave him. With that inside, he had enough strength to get to a chair. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to almost knock you down."

"I've put this off long enough," she said. As he watched, she left the room, came back with a basin of water an
d placed it on the floor. "Put your feet in. There's no point talking to you till you're not so frozen."

He gritted his teeth and obeyed, knowing full well what it'd be like. At first he couldn't speak for the pain that shot through his feet from the scrape
s and the sharp pangs of thaw, even though the water was probably only lukewarm. After a few moments, though, he began to relax. He was surprised when his teeth suddenly began chattering from the chills that racked him.

"Here, have some more tea," the Guardian said. "What in the world possessed you to go out there barefoot?"

"No boots. The stone is too slick for slippers," Tam said, after the hot liquid warmed him.

"I told my brother that it was a stupid idea to hobble you like that. And you're obviously just as stubborn as he is." She sighed from behind her drooping hood.

"I'm feeling better now, my lady. May I leave?" He could make the climb down to his window much more easily now.

"No. You sent me a note asking if you might speak with me a while back. I haven't forgotten."

"I can't do it!" he blurted out. "She hates me! And the Red Cup will turn me into a monster!"

"Things haven't gone that far yet," she said. "You have choices you don't know about."

"What, like becoming a Blessed Mother? So I trade one set of rooms for another. What a wonderful destiny."

"Some men would find no trouble living with
that
one," she said. "Any partner you like, any time you wish! It'd be like Festival, only all year round. I can even name a few women who wouldn't mind that one themselves. I see you didn't read that part of the book I left you."

"And how many partners who cry because they're in love with someone else?" he asked softly.

"But there are no privileges without a price," the Guardian said, "no matter what some mages think. Kiliane wants to be Protector someday, with no idea of the sacrifices her predecessor has made. Shouldn't she be willing to give up something to get what she wants?"

"All that means is that she still has a heart left!" Tameron argued passionately. " I can't pretend I never heard her talk about Mauric, or never heard Mauric talk about her. Why should I make the sacrifice of
my
heart and freedom for a privilege I don't want?"

"Oh, Tam. If you were listening,
and I hoped you would, then you also heard your father talk about the need to see that the common people also have some magic. You're the key to that plan. If you had read that book at all, you would have learned that all your children will have powers no matter who the mother might be. There's a strong possibility that some of them will have the same ability to pass their powers on. Think of it, a Fiallyn Mor where the mages can no longer act with arrogance for fear of retribution by those they rule, and where the Duty has been reduced to two children, not four, because magical power can be passed on more easily. A lot of women would certainly thank you for
that
!"

He
shook with fear. Now even the Guardian was urging him on. "I remember one thing I read," he said. "The Council always chooses the partners for the Blessed Mother, not the Protector. Maybe that's the real reason he wanted to hide me."

"No! It wasn't like that!" she protested. "You don't know how a Blessed Mother is treated from the moment she's discovered, especially if she's only a child at the time. Both of us wanted you to grow up less of a prisoner, though it's harder for you now because of that. But now your secret is out. Your father received a message from the Council just an hour ago, demanding your return. They've opened Dever Tower and have begun preparations for your stay there."

He could almost hear the sound of a door closing behind him, a door that would never be opened again. "What...what should I do?" he asked hoarsely. "I can't do what Father wants me to. It's wrong."

"Tameron, you can't imagine how proud of you I am to hear you say that. But sometimes you have to think of yourself first. You're too young to have to face the Red Cup, but I doubt one dose would harm you. It only brings out what's truly inside a person."

He was appalled. Would the drug force him to act the way he sometimes did in dreams? How could he hurt Kiliane, knowing how she really felt about him?

"There isn't much time left to think about it, Tam," she said. "Both our calendar and Kiliane's only have a few days left. If you can bring yourself to cooperate, it's possible we can find a way out for you. If you delay, you'll only go inside Dever Tower all the sooner."

Suddenly he was so dizzy with weariness he couldn't think. "I don't know..." he said. He'd thought that the Guardian, of all people, would understand.

"I know it's not fair," she said softly. "That's why we have the Festival, so mages and ordinary people alike can choose for themselves at least once a year. You won't even have that inside the Tower."

"You said that no matter what you'd help me have the person I truly loved by my side...what woman would ever put up with me having to bed so many others, let alone share my imprisonment?"

"I know. That's why you must do as your father says. It's your only chance."

"Why can't he find a way without that?"

"H
e needs a child to continue his line. I don't think you realize how old we are, Tam. You are our last hope. If he finds a way for you to escape Dever Tower, he won’t be forced to acknowledge any others you might have."

Tameron could barely contain his anger.
Is this how Marysa felt when Tigran told her to sell herself to the travelers at the inn? No wonder she fought so hard to escape him.
He had to hide his rage, though, or he'd never have a chance. He bowed his head. "I can't decide right now!" he said. "You said we had a few days. Let me have at least one of them."

"Of course," the Guardian said. She went to another room and said, undoubtedly to a servant or guard, "Go to Lord Tameron's room and bring a pair of stockings and a set of slippers. He's been here with me tonight by my request."

He discovered he was relieved that he didn’t have to go out onto the dragon and climb down into his window. It didn't take long for the stockings and slippers to come, though he objected when the Guardian began placing them on his feet herself. "I can manage," he said.

"It's nearly morning," she sai
d. "Go back to bed and sleep. I'll count this as your study for today. I am glad you were sensible enough to use the grill to listen, though. I gave you that room because I hoped you would. It’s not right for you to go into this through deception.”

He stood up and bowed to her, then wished he hadn't as he nearly fell over from exhaustion. The guards outside said nothing as usual, but took him down the stairs to his quarters.

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