Hatchling (Tameron and the Dragon) (8 page)

Had his father loved his mother at all? Or did they have only their Duty to bind them? If only the Guardian were right about his father just pretending to neglect him! Tameron remembered their last meeting w
hen nobody else had been around, though. The Protector had been more than kind to him then. He bowed his head. "I hope it doesn't take as long for me to find someone I care for as it did him," he said.

"A handsome young man like you? The girls will be lining up at Festival, even the ones who don't know who you are," The Guardian said, forced gaiety in her voice.

"Like that girl in Lochil?" he said bitterly. He was certain his father would choose his partners, at least for now. Most likely they would be mage-gifted and told to lie with him by the College. He couldn't really expect them to like him the way he wanted them to.

The Guardian sighed. "Don't give up so easily," she said.

Tam bowed his head, going over the scene in his mind. He'd been so eager to take what the girl had pretended to offer, he'd never thought what might hide behind it. "Wait," he said. "I remember where I saw that white fletching on the arrows before. Did Stine tell you about it? Some of the soldiers attacking us fell after, after we started to ride away." He wanted to keep Lorin's name out of it, now that he saw a connection between his friend's shrill cry during the struggle and the arrows. "The bandits that I saw last spring used the same kind, and their leader wore a dragon patch on his cloak. I saw a puppet show earlier that day where they talked about bringing the dragons back to life. Is there a connection?" Perhaps this way he could find out if Lorin was right or not. The dragon-worshippers and the rebels in the hills might be the same, though his friend was so loyal that he doubted it.

Lady Sigaldo sat up straight. "Your father should have told you already. It's said that Wizardwall will hold until the dragons fly again. You know how likely that is! However, many commoners believe that a child born on Neyarmie Isle at Midwinter will give life to the statues and set them free. That may be one reason why my brother's enemies are trying to destroy you, using your lack of magic as an excuse."

"Why do they feel threatened? I don’t have any powers like that!"

The Guardian was silent for a moment. Tam knew she wasn't telling him everything.

She finally spoke. "Once an ordinary person is on the Council and shows himself worthy, they'll have little excuse to keep others like you from taking a place there, too. If you were a fool, or weak, I doubt they'd object. They could use your example to discourage any others. Since you won’t be a bad example, you will create a disturbing precedent." Her voice shook.

"Are...are you angry about it too?"

"No. If mages went through the Ordeal as they did in times past, I would tell your father to adopt Lady Kiliane. As it is, commoners have much to fear these days. Many like Stine are still true to their oaths, but how long will that last? I wouldn't be surprised to see candles under my own dragon-statues someday." She shook her head. "Your presence will frighten the wizards who abuse their position, and that's good enough for me."

Tameron bowed in courtesy and left. This legend easily explained why he had unexpected enemies--and friends. Even as he walked away, he knew there was a lot his aunt wasn't saying. Was he ever going to know the whole story?

Perhaps he ought to visit Neyarmie Isle and pay his respects to his mother's grave. The Guardian had given him permission to go there whenever he wished, but he never had. Maybe he'd find more answers there.

One night soon after, the clouds finally opened and showed the sky beyond. Tameron gazed out at the pole star, which blazed in solitary splendor at the center of the sky. Everyone was a child of the Lord and Lady, and thus had a star that belonged to them at birth. Since his had been at Midwinter under the light of the full moon, the gem of the north was his. That told him his fate already. Supposedly the star was compatible with all the constellations, but in the stories he knew it always stood for solitude, and for strength. Was that really so bad? If he expected nothing from anyone to begin with, then he wouldn't be disappointed.

A few days later, Stine summoned him after drill. "We finally found the girl," she said. Tam followed her to the small audience chamber. The Guardian sat, while the girl stood with her hand in a bowl of water.

Tameron recognized the truthspell, and the girl. He'd certainly dreamed of her often enough since the fight.

"Who are you?" he blurted out.
She smiled at him, and said, "My name is Liselda. I'm glad you weren't hurt."

The water stayed clear! He stepped forward.

"Tell him the rest," the Guardian said dryly. Tameron halted, and bowed to his aunt.

Liselda blushed and ducked her head. "Some man paid me to lean my head out and ask for the youngest when the castle guards came by. He didn't know when it would be, but paid me enough to be ready all month."

"All month?" Stine asked.

"Well, I can't work at my usual trade if I don't take childbane. The man said I'd get extra if I got pregnant, but only by the right one. I don't know where the other soldiers came from, or the ones who shot arrows from behind the wall. I didn't know anybody was going to get hurt!"

Again the water stayed clear. "What were your instructions, then?" the Guardian asked.

"I've already told you! The young gentleman was to stay with me, and I was to ask him to come back as often as he liked. I think I would have enjoyed that." The girl gazed steadily into Tameron's eyes.

He felt his face going hot, even though the water turned pale gray at her words.

"Did you recognize any of the castle guards?" Stine asked.

"No, sir. I've never seen them with their uniforms on, anyway. I might be able to pick a few out if I saw them a bit closer, mind you."

Stine laughed. "Which parts?" Then her face turned grim as she spoke to the Guardian. "My lady, have you been able to see the face of the man who paid her?"

Lady Sigaldo shook her head. "No. My brother is better at that sort of thing than I am."

"He was a heavy man, with a black beard and a face the color of the wood in that chair--the lighter wood, not the dark," Liselda interrupted, clearly trying to be helpful. "I still have one of the coins in my purse that he gave me. Would that help?"

"Yes, it would," the Guardian said.

Stine brought out a shabby-looking purse and dumped its contents into the Guardian's hand.

Tameron felt left out as his aunt spread the coins out in her palm, then let her fingertips brush against them. "Ah, this one!" she said, as she held up a small golden circle. "Stine, bring me the soldiers who were with the Protector's son that day. If any of them still have coins that resonate to this one, we'll question them first. This young lady will have to stay here till we find out just how many were involved. Gerad may not be the only one."

"I haven't done anything wrong!" Liselda protested.

"Not knowingly. I admit, it's a temptation to let you go, but if the man who paid you discovers that you've failed, you may not be particularly safe," the Guardian said. "Stine, see that's she's comfortable, but make sure her guards are other women. And she ought to start on childbane again."

The commander summoned one of the older women and had her take the girl away. As Stine personally escorted Tameron back to his quarters, she spoke quietly but bluntly. "You've got to stay inside now. Not even the courtyards are safe till I find out which guards besides Gerad might have sold you out. Lad, you don't know how lucky you were. A child from you will give the mother's family power over the Protector, at least till you're married or whatever else they plan for you. You're just the age to do something stupid whether you're old enough for Festival or not. I wish I could
find
you
some childbane, but your father'd hang me from my heels if I did. And don't even ask where that little dumpling is going to be, because no one's going to tell you. I know every little trick the novice guards play at your age, boy
or
girl, so don't even think about trying them. I've looked the other way sometimes, but I can't do that with you. So keep polishing your armor, or whatever they're calling it these days, and stay out of trouble."

Tam nearly died of em
barrassment right then. 'Fishing with an empty hook' was what he'd heard the older boys say, though he wasn't about to ask Stine if that was what she meant.

For the first few days, he was confined to his rooms while Stine investigated. Randor told him when Gerad confessed and all the other guards had been cleared. The old man shared his delight as Tameron was allowed to go out into the hallways again.

After a week or so, he felt the walls closing in the way they had before. Tam spent a lot of time gazing out the windows. Soon even they were curtained by falling snow as winter storms began. Worse was yet to come. In Lochil, this kind of weather lasted for weeks in this season with only a few days of clearing at a time. The only good part was that Lorin had obviously passed Stine's interrogation. Tam was glad of that. He'd hate to have his friend get into trouble for saving his life.

As time went by, Tam felt himself grow numb. Lorin tried to cheer him up, but it did no good. The only part of him that still felt alive rose every few nights in his dreams.

It was always the same scene. He was in Council again, with the bandages still around his wrists. He drank that cup the Coris Mimn left him. But even when his father's enemies insulted him, Tameron didn't dare stand up. For instead of making him ill, the potion in the cup made him so hard he was afraid his tunic wouldn't cover it.

Then in the dream, his father came to his side and pulled him to his feet. Tam's tunic was gone, and he had only his shirt and breeches, breeches that were swollen so tight that the buttons nearly pulled away. The Council always shouted their approval, except for a few.

Without knowing how he got there, in the way of dreams, Tameron found himself in bed, the bed here in Lochil. Liselda's warm body was wrapped around him, as she eagerly spread her legs for his pleasure...but just at the moment of completion, she pulled a knife and stabbed him. He always woke then, his body confused between pain and pleasure. He rarely got back to sleep, and usually stayed up for the rest of the night after
that
one.

He began to keep up as late as he could to try to avoid the nightmare. This turned his days into hours of gray endurance. It didn't matter. As long as he did what he was told, what more could anybody want? If the Guardian noticed how he sometimes allowed his eyelids to droop in the afternoons, she said nothing.

One day he went to morning drill, and noticed Stine was busy. He ran in place with full armor and shield while the commander tormented another swordsman. He had to become accustomed to the weight if he wanted to be more than a shiny ornament; though he had a sinking feeling that he'd
always
be a target.

Tameron fell to the floor when someone attacked him from the rear. He scrambled to his feet, drew his sword, and faced Stine. She leaped at him as if she meant to kill him. He feinted left,
and then turned to keep the wall at his back. Stine thrust directly at his throat and he barely ducked in time.

She's never been like this before!
Tam beat at her sword with his shield to knock it away, then swung back. Stine dodged to the right and came at him again.
Why isn't anybody helping me? Of course, they think it's just another drill!

Rage blazed through him. Damn them all, he'd protect himself! He fought to stay alive as she nearly nailed him on the right shoulder. He almost got her back on the riposte,
but tripped as she sliced at his knees. Stine kicked the sword out of his hand, and booted him in the ribs when he tried to roll away. The point of her sword pressed into his neck. A small trickle of blood ran down his skin.

"Your enemies won't stop," Stine growled softly, then backed off. Tameron got to his feet. He was surprised to be alive, and ashamed he'd been so easy to beat. He should be angry at her for humiliating him like this. Instead, he was only weary.

She faced the rest of the class. "This is what happens when you don't pay attention," she said. Tam shifted his position, wondering how well she was watching him now. Stine suddenly glanced at him and turned so he was in her field of vision. "Don't laugh at Lord Tameron. He did better than I think some of you will. If you want to stay alive, you have to be ready for anything, at any time. Now wash up. All of you stink of fear."

Tam obeyed. He took off everything but the wrist braces and soaked in the bathing room. The others finished faster than usual, probably hoping to avoid Stine's wrath. Lorin shot him a sympathetic glance as he left, but said nothing.

He heard a footstep. Tameron jumped out and grabbed his sword, which he'd left in reach. Stine didn't have any witnesses now and knew he liked to linger in the bath.

She laughed, and held up both hands. "You're off the hook this time, lad. A good thing you listened and didn't assume I'd forget you. Now let me see those wrists of yours."

Tameron nearly dropped his sword in shock. Stine walked over and picked up his free hand. "You've never worn braces for such a long time before," she said, removed the wrist guard, and examined the thin scars on his left wrist. "You're lucky you didn't slice a tendon. No wonder the poison hit you so hard. What in the name of Fire were you doing?"