The Dragonprince's Heir (3 page)

Then I remembered the lie I'd told Caleb. I sighed, completely miserable.

"Good morning, Toman. I owe you an apology."

"I don't believe you do."

I rolled my shoulders and looked away. "Caleb caught me on the wall. Without you there."

"Then I believe you owe Caleb an apology. Or Lady Isabelle."

"I owe Caleb nothing."

He cocked his head. "Indeed? He is a good general."

"He is arrogant and stubborn and casually cruel!"

"Not cruel," Toman said, calm. "Perhaps severe, but this is no time for gentle men."

"How can you defend him? Don't you understand? He beat me in front of the whole militia! In front of the king! And you know he's going to punish you for my...choices."

"No. He'll reprimand me for failing in my duty. A good soldier—"

"Is not a nursemaid! Toman, don't apologize for having more useful things to do than watch over me."

He shrugged. "Vigilance is much of my responsibility. Will you tell me how you escaped the library?"

"Will you keep it from Jen?" I asked.

"Not if it could mean your safety."

I sighed. "It doesn't matter, she'd find it anyway. There's a missing shelf among the histories, tall enough to squeeze through once I moved the books. That let me into the records nook—"

"And from there into the war room and down the outer stairs while Jen was watching the central spire."

I swallowed hard. "She's going to be mad."

"She would be furious, but her watch ended while you were still pretending to study the maps. I saw you there when I took over."

"I'm sorry, Toman."

He held my gaze. "Why?"

"I never meant to embarrass you."

He cut me off before I could say more. "That's not what I mean. My failure is my burden. I will carry it. But why do you work so hard to defy your mother's orders?"

"You ask too much—"

"I don't think I do," he said. "You wanted to apologize. I will not accept it until you answer me."

I looked down at my hands just to avoid his eyes. What could it hurt to answer? He'd already seen my shame. And if he understood—if
someone
in this tower understood—perhaps I'd have some chance at fixing what was wrong.

"The king is here," I said.

"I know."

"He came here to speak with Mother. Or maybe even Father. As fractured as things are, the king may not know my father's...."

"Gone."

I nodded. "Gone. But now the dragonswarm is over, now it's safe to leave the City, and he has come all the way to the Tower to reward us for our service."

"But he brought an army."

"Of course! A show of splendor only increases the honor."

Toman frowned. "Didn't he attack the outer gates?"

"I...I don't know. Caleb didn't let me stay to hear his speech. Perhaps...perhaps it was just his recognition that the gates are no longer necessary."

"That seems unlikely," Toman said.

"What else could it be? We stood against the dragonswarm and bought humanity's survival by our courage. The king and all his armies, all his wizards, could only cower in their fortified cities and pray for it to end. But Father fought back."

"The way I heard it," Toman said, "the king was not a great admirer of your father's army."

"That was long ago," I said. "But Father built a bulwark for humanity, and drove the swarming dragons back to their dark slumber. The king cannot ignore that. He'll extend his gratitude for the role we served."

"And that's...why you disobey your mother?"

"Yes! Because the order is unjust! She wants me out of sight, so who will take my place? Caleb.
He'll
go to meet the king.
He'll
stand by Mother's side with Father's blade slung on his back. Forty-thousand men outside the gates, a king and four wizards and six noblemen there in the Great Hall, and Mother—modest Mother—will push all that honor onto Caleb."

"Ah," Toman said. "You think it should be you."

"It
should
be Father, but he's ten years gone. So why not me? Why should I not meet this king? Why should I not share the glory?"

"Have you asked your mother?"

I scowled. "She will not tell me. Caleb doesn't want her to explain."

"Does she defer to Caleb? She's the Lady of the Tower."

"Even so. Sometimes I think it. And I think he hates me for it."

"Caleb? Hates you?"

I drew myself up tall. "Yes! Because I alone within the fortress do not scrape and bow. I alone do not love our warrior hero. He resents me for it."

"I...do not think you know Caleb Drake at all."

"I know him well enough. And by tonight, all the king's retinue—Green Eagles and wizards and all—will bow down in gratitude for the service of the Tower of Drakes. And I will not see it. That is how Caleb punishes me."

Toman frowned. "I do not think you know the king at all."

"How could I? I will not be there. Caleb will be there. Standing like a king before the FirstKing's heir. He will stand at Mother's side and receive the praise earned by my father's hand."

The words rang with all my indignation, and for a long moment Toman only stared.

Then he licked his lips and looked away. "This is quite a complex...understanding...you've found."

Before I could answer, Jen's voice cut in. "And every word is nonsense. Haven's name, Taryn, you're such a child."

Even at the best of times Jen's voice sawed against my spine. Right then I was so mad I could have hit her. Or...I could have tried. But Jen would knock me flat as easily as Caleb had. Even with two extra years of age, the girl was no bigger than me, but she was fast, she was sure, and she was ruthless.

She was Caleb. Two-thirds his height, one-third his weight, with fair skin and short blond hair. She looked nothing like him, but she was Caleb. She'd been training with him even longer than I had, and he hadn't even blinked at naming a girl as one of his new knights.

Now she breezed through the door as though she owned the place, and I noticed she'd had time to change since this morning. She wore loose leather armor dyed a deep green with a simple short sword on her belt. I scrambled to my feet, unwilling to let her tower over me.

How much had she heard? I'd been attacking Caleb, and this girl worshipped at his feet. I had to stop her warning him.

"Listen—" I tried, but she cut me off.

"I've heard enough. Toman, you're relieved. Caleb wants you in battle dress, now."

"Battle dress?" I cried, indignant. "Are you
all
going before the king?"

Jen showed me her teeth. "One way or another."

"You can't really mean to fight him! He's the king."

"This is my home," Jen said. "These are my people. As far as I'm concerned, he's just a stranger in a fancy robe."

"Those are dangerous words," I hissed.

Her eyes glittered like a viper's. "Less dangerous than yours. I only insulted a king. You insulted Caleb Drake."

"That...that was said in confidence."

"Anything you say to your knights, you say to Caleb."

"Jen, please—"

She smiled at me. "We have a responsibility, Taryn. If we're going to look out for your family's safety, we cannot keep secrets between us."

"But—"

"I'm sorry, Taryn. I really am. Because I can promise you Caleb will
not
take this well."

"That doesn't much sound like you're looking out for my safety."

She shrugged. "Sometimes you have to lose some minor engagements to win the greater war."

"Whose knight are you, Jen? Mine or Caleb's?"

She didn't even think about it. "Caleb's."

I opened my mouth to retort, but she turned away as though I'd disappeared. "Go on, Toman. Battle dress, then find Caleb. He's probably in the war room. Give him a full report."

"What?" I shouted. "Toman, don't!"

He shrugged in mute apology, then left in a hurry.

I caught at Jen's sleeve, "Jen, please—"

"I've heard enough," she said. "Keep at it and I'll black your other eye."

I relented, too afraid she meant the threat. She glanced around the room, sniffed, then slipped out into the hall to watch my door. I dropped back on my bed and buried my head in my hands.

What had I done? A rage had stoked my fires until I wasn't really thinking. Now I tried to remember what I'd said to Toman, tried to guess how much Jen had overheard. But that didn't really matter anymore, did it? She'd ordered Toman to report it all to Caleb, and Haven knew he would.

I took a deep breath and rolled my shoulders, relaxing bit by bit. It didn't really matter. Caleb tortured me already. How much more could he do? My imagination rushed to offer answers that left me feeling panicky again. Jen alone could make me rue my hasty words.

And that was wrong. It wasn't fair. This was my home; this was my father's stronghold. I shouldn't have to live in fear of his footsoldiers. Crying wouldn't solve my problems. Nor would arguing with Jen. No, I needed to meet with Mother. If I could just speak with her alone, without Caleb there to interfere, I could show her the injustice of it all.

I almost grinned. The bruises on my face would serve me well. She'd seen him restrain me, but she hadn't seen how violently, how disrespectfully. She could never condone this. I jumped to my feet, ready to go searching for her, when Jen rapped once on the door and threw it open. Before I could respond at all, Mother drifted through into my room.

She looked regal today, in a way I hadn't been able to notice in the chaos down below. Her dress was big and blue as the summer sky and trimmed with pearls and beads of silver. She wore a necklace and bracelets and three small rings, all matching silver and pale blue amethyst.

I remembered her comforting hand in mine, and I couldn't quite connect the memory with the figure standing before me. She didn't look like the sort of person who gave hugs. She looked like a queen in a portrait, some still, distant figure of proud beauty.

From across the room, I could see the reproof in her eyes. "Taryn—"

"Mother, we need to talk of the king."

She shook her head in a short, sharp gesture. "I cannot believe the risks you took today. What if Caleb had not been there when the gate came down? What if you had fallen from the wall? What if a fight had truly started?"

She meant to go on, but I raised my chin. "Then I would have fought beside the other men of this fortress. I have trained as much as any man among them."

My mother clucked, disapproving. "You could have been hurt, Taryn."

Something began to burn deep in my stomach. I took a slow step closer to her, turning my face to present the swollen bruise Caleb had made of the left side of my face. "Would that have troubled you so much?"

Her breath caught. Her eyes crinkled around the edges, and she almost turned away. But then I saw her steel herself. I saw the queen take over, and she straightened her neck again. "You had your orders, and Caleb had his. You forced his hand by your disobedience."

"Disobedience? I am not a child, Mother. It's important for you to understand that."

"Oh, Taryn. You are such a fine young man. I
can
see that. But—"

"No." I made my voice hard, like Caleb's. "No, Mother. I'm going to be lord of this place someday."

"Perhaps," she said. "Perhaps, but you have so much still to learn. You know so little of the world outside these walls."

"Then let me see!" I shouted. "I have obeyed for too many years. I have studied everything you asked me to. I have worked so hard, but you never let me leave the walls. And now the outside world comes here, the FirstKing's heir comes here, and you forbid me to even see him?"

"It's not that simple," Mother said.

"I have responsibilities," I said. "Father left a legacy—"

She was not listening. Instead she glided forward, closing the little space between us, and I had to turn my face up to her. "Be still," she said softly, speaking right over me. "Your father's legacy is strong in you. Dear Taryn. You see the whole world as a puzzle you can solve. You have no concept of scale."

Her voice was rich with a tenderness I had longed for, but her condescending words cut me like a knife. I frowned up at her—and then flinched at the flash of pain it drew beneath my left eye.

"Oh, Taryn," she said again. She touched my cheek with a delicate hand and used her other to turn me. She guided me to the wash-stand where she dampened a rag in the cool water and touched it feather-soft against my face.

I couldn't find my argument. I wanted to scream at her. I wanted to plead my case. But more than anything else I wanted her to stay right where she was, soft and real and close enough to touch, eyes full of nothing but me. I held very still and fought to catch my breath.

She sounded far away the next time she spoke. "Your father spent his life fighting against the chaos. You have to understand that. All your life you've seen the power he put together. But I don't know if you've ever understood the purpose."

I frowned. "He fought the dragons—"

"No." She shook her head slowly. "Before any of the rest of us had even seen a dragon, he was fighting the chaos. He risked everything to break a rebellion, to protect the king."

"I know," I said. "I have heard the story."

She pushed back to arm's length, and for a long time she only looked at me. Then she smiled. "You've heard the pieces. You need to grasp the whole. He fought—he laid down his life—to protect another man's kingdom. Not...." Her voice faltered, and for a moment she looked away. "Not a better man, Taryn. But a man who was king. A man whose authority represented order and stability and peace for many, many people."

I held my tongue, trying to search out some hidden significance in her words, but I could find nothing. "I know," I said at last. "And now that man has come here to meet with us."

"We do not know exactly why he's come," she said. "You spoke of taking up your father's legacy, and Daven's legacy was preserving this man's authority. We must respect that."

"I would," I said, earnest. And a little angry. "I would pay every honor to this king, but you will not even let me meet him."