Hatchling (Tameron and the Dragon) (7 page)

"I'm sure Father has planned out my life already." It'd be a little easier for him, he supposed. He already knew he was no lover of men. He'd already had dreams about Jalis, one of the novice guards--especially the day she'd worn her leather armor laced much too tightly. Stine had laughed herself sick when the girl had made mincemeat of most of the boys, though the commander
had the girl wear a chainmail shirt over her leather afterwards. He still found Lady Kiliane attractive. "Who will the College of Wizards choose for me? Or will they bother, since I don't have any magical powers?"

"There is more to life than duty, Tameron," the Guardian said gently. She rose from her chair and walked down the steps of the dais. "You're better off with a heart, even when it's broken."

"Is that why you became a Guardian?" He knew the question was horribly personal. He had no right to ask it.

She turned to face him, the hood drooping between them like a wall. "In a way. I've had only one child, but wasn't allowed to keep the infant. My other duty
was lost on the way to this one. I couldn't do both." It almost sounded as if she were crying.

He
wanted to comfort her, but didn't know how. It must be terrible to lose so much. He hoped she felt it was worth it.

"I promise you one thing, Tam," she said sharply. "If you find someone to love, I have enough influence so you may keep her by your side as long as you both wish. Don't forget to be human!"

"It's all I have!" he shouted, suddenly angry.

"Yes. You must not give it up. Some mages have, and we are the poorer for it."

Tameron was weary and thirsty. He bowed politely, and then left. The Guardian meant to be kind, but his father's will was more important. Caught as he was between the life of an ordinary man and the Duty of a mage, it hurt too much to hope for
real
love.

I'd better learn how to make do without it,
he thought.
After all, the Guardian has.

Chapter 4

During the next few weeks Tameron judged other cases, but none of them affected him like the first one. He felt much better physically, and began sword and armor practice with the other guards. One thing was different. He wore wrist-braces now, and became good at slipping them off and on when nobody else was watching. The scars faded, but they burned like brands of dishonor in his mind. At least this way his shame could remain private.

Snow fell nearly every day in the mountains near Lochil, though it was more than a month till Midwinter. Some fell in the town at night, but melted during the day.
He rode outside whenever he could despite the weather, and twice a week he was allowed to go out of the Guardian's stronghold with other soldiers his own age. He dressed like they did and carried only a little money. Stine wasn't happy, but admitted that he was safer from assassins when he blended in with the others. "I still don't like it, though," she said for the dozenth time one afternoon as Tameron prepared to leave.

"Being locked up didn't protect me in Kelemath,"
Tam said. "What good am I to anyone if I never leave my room?" In the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but see Dever Tower.

The commander had no answer to that one, and grudgingly gave her permission for him to go again.

He enjoyed pretending he was just another trainee guard. He was less than a year younger than a couple of them, so he fit in well enough, and relished riding through the streets without being on display. Lochil was a pretty town, with narrow streets nearly covered by the built-out windows of the tall, sharp-roofed houses.

What would it be like to live here as an ordinary person?
he wondered wistfully. Surely his life would be much simpler that way!

He and the others stopped to watch a puppet play in the market square that afternoon. Tam was surprised that it showed a version of his fall in the Council Chamber. Entertainment booths always commented on political affairs, but he didn't realize his own problems had flown down the road so quickly. He wished he'd thought of half the stuff they'd had his manikin say!

"Lorin," he asked afterwards. His friend had accompanied Stine and the other guards when they fled Kelemath. "Why are they calling me the Silver Dragon who will bring the other dragons back to life? I mean, they're just statues."

"Some people think that earthquakes are caused when the dragons move around," Lorin said. He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Some people worship the beasts, and believe that someday the commoners will have vengeance on the mages who rule over them. That's why you see candle-stubs below the statues, just like that one over there. Especially by the houses of mages who are known to misuse their powers. Everyone loves the Guardian, so no one leaves them near her palace even though she has more dragons than anybody else in this town. But if you look, you can see the offerings all over Kelemath."

Tam had, but his father had said they represented gifts of fire, without mentioning that they could be warnings. He remembered Stine telling them all last spring how some bandits in the hills wore dragon tattoos, while the leader of the raiders in Tameron's first real battle had worn a leather patch on his cloak in the shape of a dragon. He'd wondered why the symbol of a mage's power was so misused by some. Now it all made sense.

He glanced up at the stone dragon Lorin had pointed out.
I'm bound to this land just like you are to that wall,
he thought.
If you were real and I had the power to free you, I would.

As he and the other guards rode back, they took a detour through a cramped alleyway Tam didn't recognize. One of the guards swore it'd cut several blocks off their way. A girl with blazing red hair leaned out of an upper window and waved at them. "I always like seeing brave soldiers," she said.

Tameron enjoyed looking at what her low neckline showed. He knew from guards' gossip that not everyone waited as long as custom prescribed for their first blessing from the Lord and Lady. Why should he?

The girl smiled at him. "I promise an early Festival for the youngest one in your group, too. No one should be denied those gifts just because it's the wrong time of year."

He began to dismount, as Lorin laughed.

"It's a trap!" shouted the guard who'd led them here.

Both ends of the alleyway were blocked by horsemen. Tameron flung himself back into the saddle and spurred his way towards the side closest to safety. As the other guards followed, Lorin gave out an unearthly cry. Tam unsheathed his sword and charged at the man in front. His enemy suddenly fell, though his own first thrust had missed. The girl screamed. The other attackers facing them scattered, while the ones behind continued their pursuit. Tam urged his mount to a gallop, but noticed the arrow in the back of the fallen bandit. It had white fletching...he'd seen it before, somewhere! He'd best not waste this gift by stopping to stare, and made a mental note for later. If there was a later.

They rode back to the castle as fast as they could. Their enemies disappeared after the first corner. Or were they only taking a different route to the main gate? Tam allowed Lorin and the others to ride at each side, though he didn't want his friends to take arrows or blows meant for him. He remembered the poison in the Council Chamber. His stomach twisted. W
hy did the other families hate him so?

He relaxed once they were behind the castle's high walls. Stine was angry when she knew, but more at the situation than at him. "More good men have died chasing their tails than anything else," she said with a grim laugh. "And a few women, too. Let this be a lesson to you, lad. She cut you out of the herd like a trained dog. I don't know why you
were so lucky, but I'll find out. You're confined to the castle till further notice." Then she went off with the guard who'd decided on the short-cut in tow. Tameron was definitely glad not to be
him!

He wonde
red if the puppet play about him being the Silver Dragon had anything to do with this intrigue. Where did he remember that white fletching from? If he asked Stine about it, how could he keep Lorin out of it? He didn't want to get his friend into trouble, especially since it hadn't been Lorin's idea to go into the alley, but Gerad's.

Perhaps he could ask the Guardian. In the next few days, he tried to find an opportunity to speak with her, but she was nearly as busy as his father. He continued to help her judge cases, but was glad when they were done for the afternoon and he could spend some time in the outer courtyards. Enough snow had
fallen so that he and some of the other trainees had snowball fights, though his side also built a short wall to hide behind.

Even when confined inside, some of the cases the Guardian taught him how to judge were interesting. Perhaps if he did well with the problems of ordinary people, he could spare his father that task in Kelemath. Many mages grew impatient with apparently minor difficulties, but a dozen eggs gone missing mattered as much to a poor family as a whole warehouse lost in a fire did to a merchant in Kelemath. The Guardian also kept him busy looking through old books of law, which had stories about unusual problems and how they were resolved. It helped keep his mind off of being confined to the castle and its grounds, at least most of the time.

Tameron often stared at the high stone walls of the stronghold. Did they offer protection or were they just another prison? Sometimes he remembered the girl who tried to lure him to his death. What if she'd meant what she'd said? Lord and Lady, friends like Lorin were good to have, but part of him pined for someone like that girl. She’d had such pretty red hair…

As he wandered restlessly through the castle one
afternoon when a new storm kept everyone inside, he stumbled onto another mystery. He was hungry, though the mid-day meal had been just a couple of hours ago, so he went into the kitchen hoping to talk the cook into a treat. The old, fat woman was gossiping with a dark-haired younger maid, and didn't hear him walk in. "I still wonder if the accident that killed the Protector's wife and children was really an accident," the cook said. "After what happened to the boy in that evil city, who knows?"

That wasn't right,
Tam thought.
My mother lived long enough to have me.
He left the room and sought out Randor, who was in his own room just one floor above the kitchen.

His servant didn't know much. The older man and his wife Esa had made pilgrimage to Lochil in thanksgiving for a good harvest, when the weather turned bad and Esa was too pregnant to make the return journey in such conditions. Then she'd lost the baby, which made her a perfect
wet-nurse for Lord Sidian's newest child.

"I heard some strange gossip, but I don't know if any of it was true," Randor said. "Esa didn't care once she had you in her arms. I was sad my own son was gone, but as long as Esa was happy and my other boys were healthy it didn't matter so much. I was more worried about
sending money to my brother so he could take over the farm and care for the rest of the family. The Protector had us follow him to Kelemath, just as the old Guardian here was said to be dying."

"Was my father here?"

"Of course he was, though he stayed in the castle, instead of being on the island with his wife." Randor frowned. "Lady Sigaldo, his sister, took over that duty, along with a couple of her own maidservants. She was already famous for her healing skills, especially with the problems of women. To be honest, I wish she'd been able to come down and help Esa. She might have been able to save my wife when Coris Mimn couldn't."

"I wish she could have, too," Tameron said.

"I know, lad. The old cook just heard the story wrong."

Randor was probably right. Tam learned in the next few days that most of the servants here had died or moved off since his birth. He was also a little disappointed to hear that the girl he'd seen gossiping with the cook was said to be involved with the night-groom.

When Tameron asked Stine about the apparent mystery about his mother. the commander didn't know anything, or at least claimed she didn't. He finally requested a private audience with the Guardian. After all, she'd been there.

At first his aunt sounded hesitant to answer any questions, till he blurted out what he wanted to know. Then her voice gained confidence. "I was there when it happened. Your brothers and sisters were breaking the magical barrier around the Empty Throne when Wendar, the youngest boy, weakened. Lady
Aliana tried to help him, and that wrecked the Balance. The explosion killed them all--all but your mother, of course. She was horribly disfigured.

"She didn't allow anyone but your father and
I to see her afterwards. My brother was terrified for her safety, especially after she knew she was pregnant. He made her a haven on Neyarmie Isle. No evil magic would dare come that close to the Earth Giant. Once she knew you were all right, she just--just gave up," the Guardian said softly. "Your father has done the best he could in her memory."

"He disliked me even before I found out I wouldn't have any magic," Tam said. "I've always thought it was because he blamed me for her death."

"Oh, no. At most he's tried to seem indifferent so his enemies would not threaten you to get at him. In a way the rumors are right. Most of her died when the others did, and the rest at your birth. Your father found great joy with Coris Mimn, though, and his heart didn't take long to heal." She sounded sad.