The Dragonprince's Heir (24 page)

I made it perhaps a hundred paces before I heard him shout behind me. I'd hoped for more, but the waterskin had made a clumsy weapon. He cried out again, and I felt the power of his will crackle through the air like unspent lightning.

There should have come searing fire or air like bars of steel to trip my horse and pin my arms. There could have been another leash of flame or a sudden pit beneath my feet, opened like a maw. A Justice was a Master of the Academy, a high and mighty wizard. He should have crushed me in his power.

Instead, my horse slowed to a walk. He turned, no matter how I hauled on the reins, and trotted lightly back toward the wizard. It was an elegant trick, but I had no time to appreciate the wizard's finesse. I threw myself from the saddle, and in my frenzy I landed wrong. I turned a fall into a tumbling roll and came up running, but my legs were weak and my back cried out in agony. I fought through the pain and, at a frantic, shambling lurch, made my bid for freedom.

The Justice came up a-canter by my side. I cut away, but he turned to follow and easily kept pace. I stumbled, and he stopped, waiting patiently while I scrambled to my feet. I ran away again. He came along.

"We could go faster if you rode." He made it sound a friendly suggestion.

"I will not stand before your court!"

"You can barely stand at all." He sighed. "Taryn, please."

I ignored him. I dug for some inner reserve of strength, but I could not outrun a horse. I certainly could not outrun the wizard's power. But I could not give up, not knowing what waited for me.

So I pounded on, through the tall grass, and then somehow the horse began to fall away. I felt a moment's irrational thrill, and then I saw the flash of steel an instant before a humming
hiss
cut through the air right by my ear. A sword buried itself to half the length of the blade in the earth before my feet. It shuddered from the force of its flight.

And it was my father's sword. The gift he'd made me. I spun in awe and found the wizard smiling down at me. I fell back, curling around my middle until I nearly sprawled on the grass, but at the last moment I grasped the hilt and rolled away and sprang up again.

I held the sword unwavering between us. He smiled down.

"Do not think I'll hesitate to cut you down!" I said.

He smirked. "You have had quite a sheltered life."

I jabbed with the sword, trying to threaten him. "I have done no wrong against the king."

"Of course you have. You
are
."

He didn't budge, but he made no move to subdue me, either. That mocking calm wore me down. I lowered the weapon and turned my gaze to it. It truly was a lovely blade. How many of my enemies had said as much? I sighed. "My father was a hero."

"He was."

"I only wanted to set my mother free."

He said nothing.

I watched a tear drop to the blade's edge and blinked more from my eyes. "I have no love for that king."

"And for your father?"

The question struck within me like a lightning bolt. As a child I had loved him. I had worshiped him as a hero. But then he'd disappeared. Then he'd left my mother under the whole weight of his mighty tower. I'd come to hate him. Without ever realizing it, I'd come to hate him.

But now? I thought about the stories I'd been told, about everything Caleb had been forced to explain to me.

I thought about the city of Cara that would have fallen under the reign of a dragonlord if not for my father. I thought about the captain from Tirah and dragons digging survivors out of desperate burrows in the sand. I thought of the king and the Grand Marshall who
hated
my father for being such a hero as that, and I could not align myself with them.

So I met his eyes and raised my chin and pronounced, "I am my father's son. I love this land and all its people more than your wretched king possibly could."

He opened his mouth, hesitated for a moment, then nodded to my horse on its invisible lead. "Get in your saddle."

I shook my head. "You can strike me down, but you will not take me to your king."

"I have no desire to take you to the king, but if we are spotted tarrying in this field someone who does will come see that it happens."

"What?"

"Haven's name, Taryn, get on your horse! I will explain while we ride."

I frowned up at him. "Do you...know me?"

He rolled his eyes so like my mother's. "Since the day you were born, child. Isabelle is—"

"Your sister." I laughed out loud. "You are my uncle Themmichus?"

"And you have grown like a weed. Now get on that horse or, by wind and by rain, I shall make you."

My uncle. I had barely heard his name in years, and I had certainly never met him. Mother's brother
was
a wizard, though—a powerful young Master, as I recalled. He had taken away my chains and chastised the guards. And he had never really threatened me. He had dragged me at a hurried pace, but he had done nothing to hurt me. And the leash of flame had not singed at all. It had only been a show.

When I struggled up into my saddle, I found the wizard once again searching the southern horizon, and now I understood. He was watching for the Grand Marshall's pursuit. Or the wizards'. I settled into as comfortable a position as I could find and heeled up beside him. Still twisted in his saddle and staring south, he started us north.

"You really think they will follow us?" I asked.

He glanced my way, then turned his attention forward and pressed us harder still. "It was but chance that I received Dellis's message to Seriphenes, and more fortunate still that Othin didn't recognize me. If he had...."

I swallowed hard. "What would happen?"

He shrugged. "He would have sent away for more wizards. And they would not treat you kindly in the circumstances."

"The Grand Marshall would dare defy a Justice?"

"That man would defy the living Winds if he thought them a threat to the king. He's a rabid dog who once served as the crown's thief catcher and has never forgotten the instincts he learned in that role."

"So how did you fool him? Did you disguise yourself with power?"

He laughed. "I disguised myself with arrogant self-importance. He saw a Justice, not a man. And that is just the sort of authority Othin most respects."

"He doesn't know you, then?"

"He should. He does, though time has aided my disguise. I have been five years a Justice and am only newly returned to the Academy. But it aroused his suspicion that I refused any escort at all. If we were seen chatting so easily, if you were seen off your leash, he might still send warning to the Academy."

I frowned. "We are not going to the Academy?"

"Your father made few friends there, and at least one true enemy."

"Then where—"

"Just ride, Taryn. All will be made clear."

Another hour we rode, until the sun began to sink toward the west and I could no longer stifle the groans. Then at last my uncle took pity on me and pulled to a stop beside an ambling river.

I slid from my saddle and collapsed on the narrow shore. While I rested, the wizard tended to our horses. He was precise and methodical in his movements, showing a level of attention to the mundane work I would not have expected from a man of such authority. It reminded me of my mother, though. Then he turned and stooped over me with the same focused care.

"You look wretched," he said.

"I feel battered and broken," I groaned.

"Are you so badly beaten as that? Othin swore they did not torture you."

Feebly, I shook my head. "I am only worn and tired. For as long as I can remember now, the only break I've had from hard riding has been some days spent on the bare floor of a dungeon buried in heavy chains."

He nodded slowly. "I see. Hard riding can be a torture of its own, to someone unaccustomed to the saddle. But I'm surprised—and a little pleased—to see old Caleb hasn't beaten all the weakness out of you."

I bristled at that, heaving my shoulders up off the ground so I could at least face him sitting up. "I am not weak!"

He smiled and pushed me gently back to rest. "I meant no insult by it."

"It is just the riding. I was not...allowed...."

"Ah." He gave a knowing nod. "You may say no more. That, at least, I understand."

He went to the saddle bags and rummaged among them, speaking to me over his shoulder the whole time. "Your father couldn't ride, when I first met him. He was in a state...well, worse than this, I should say, but only just. Master Claighan had forced him to ride for days, and I don't think he'd ever sat a horse before that. At least you know how to handle one."

He came back with the crusty end of a loaf of bread and a leather mug full of something thick and brown. He waited until I struggled upright again, then pressed them both upon me.

"Eat the bread. Your stomach will demand it. And drink the broth. It's bitter as sin, but it'll see you better."

I raised my brows. "Is it an elixir?"

"A special brew, be sure."

I sniffed, and it smelled foul. But that was as it had to be. It tasted worse, but I gulped as much as I could before I had to break for air. Even then, it felt like sludge thick in my mouth.

He nodded to the bread while he prepared himself a pipe. "Eat that up, too, or you'll feel worse by dawn tomorrow."

"Ah," I nodded, sage in this at least. "The magic's bound to moonlight, eh?"

He grinned, lips tight. "It is a strange circumstance, but you have never seen much magic, have you?"

I shrugged, pretending nonchalance. "There is some magic built into the Tower."

He waved it away with a little trail of pipe smoke. "Helpful and efficient, but it's dead. It's...trapped. It's not a living magic like a wizard's active will."

"No. No, it's not." I sighed. "I always waited for the day...."

I trailed off, and Themmichus looked away. For a moment he said nothing, then, "You never knew old Lareth."

"Not really."

"Then again, you never really knew me, either. That's...that's an oversight I wish I hadn't made. I remember you as just this little boy...." He waved the pipe down near his knee and shook his head. "But after Daven left the Tower, there was so much to do."

"For Mother, too. That's the oversight you should regret. She could have used your help."

He barked a disbelieving laugh. "Isabelle would not have welcomed that at all. If I had every last Master of the Academy answering my beck and call, she still would only see me as her snot-nosed little brother."

I drank another swill of the bitter brew. "You might not recognize her now. She's had to do so much—"

"We all have had our burdens, Taryn. At least she had her friends. Caleb, and the people of the Tower."

"They all ask too much of her!"

"And yet they all give back too. I have had to live among the ones who hate your father's name, to play their petty games so he might have
some
ally when this day came."

I almost snapped at him again, but then some hint of recollection crossed my mind. I swayed a little where I sat and had to focus to see my uncle clearly through the haze of pipesmoke, but I remembered what he'd said in the dungeons of Tirah.

"I will wrap this child in power." I spoke the words dreamily, quoting him, and I saw him blink in surprise as he recognized them. "But I will see he stands before the king. You have my word."

His eyes narrowed. "You do sometimes pay attention."

"You meant that, didn't you? Not the way the jailers heard it. You want to wrap me up in power and let me stand before the king."

"Words spoken in anger, Taryn. I didn't like to see you under all those chains."

I shook my head and had to catch myself short of toppling with the motion. Once I felt a little steadier, I met his eyes again. "I will not go to Sariano with you."

The name of the capitol slurred on my tongue, and the wizard smiled down at me. "You will go to sleep." He reached down lightly to pluck the mug from my hand, glanced inside, and finished it off in a quaff.

Already I could feel myself slipping away, darkness wrapping me up like a warm blanket. I fought against it long enough to ask, "What have you given me?"

He smiled and patted my shoulder. "Northern bread and dwarven beer."

"That's...that isn't magic!" I mumbled.

"Ah, but just the thing you needed here and now."

I couldn't force my eyes to stay open, but still I forced the words. "You must...you must get me to the Tower. I don't have time to sleep."

He chuckled. "Everything happens in its proper time. You can trust in that, and get your rest whenever fate allows."

"But you will...take me...." I yawned so hard my jaw creaked, then dropped back on the ground. "Home?"

"Tomorrow," the wizard said, spreading a wide cloak over me where I lay. "I'll tell you more tomorrow. But I need you strong—"

"Me? Why?"

"Because there's someone you must meet. And for that you must be sharp, and sure, and strong."

I fought to shape the simple word, but he forestalled me with a strong hand on my shoulder. "Tomorrow. Now, you sleep."

And I obeyed.

13. In the Ruins of Gath

I woke to warmth and the clop of horses' hooves, my whole frame rattling with the sensation of motion. My head throbbed with a dull ache and my mouth tasted of dust and sludge. Otherwise...I felt much better, really.

I opened my eyes staring straight up at the searing sun. That brought a groan as I raised a hand to shield my eyes. Something like a hammock had held me, a litter made of cloth dragging behind my horse, but my abrupt motion spoiled my balance and spilled me across a weedy, graveled path. New bruises dashed the unfamiliar and short-lived feel of well-being, but at least I had the energy to find my feet. I slapped at the dust and grass stains on my leggings while Uncle Themm brought his horse around.

I'd come to recognize the mocking grin. It was not the sneering contempt of a court Justice I'd imagined before but sly amusement at the world. Now he directed it at me. "Did you enjoy your ride, my lord?"