Hatchling (Tameron and the Dragon) (14 page)

BOOK: Hatchling (Tameron and the Dragon)
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Before he went to sleep that night he'd made sure the sword was cleaned, oiled and sharpened. Something told him to rub down the leather of the belt and the scabbard, too. The pouch on the belt held what he needed, including a small flask of oil that smelled different than anything Dorena had in the cabin, while his hands...his hands went to the tasks required of them without a moment's hesitation.

Though it was likely too soon for the mage to show up, he awoke briefly twice before dawn and walked around the outside of the cabin and barn to make sure all was well. From now
on, till he
knew
that his family was safe, he planned to sleep fully dressed save for boots, and not just because the barn was colder than the cabin.

He finally fell asleep in peace when the noise of the wind picked up. A storm would keep anyone from the road, even a fire mage who could light his way through it. With any luck, the rotten bastard
would end up caught in it and freeze solid.

At last the clamor of the wind and the snow hissing through the cracks woke him. Tam shivered, and fastened one of his blankets up at the back entrance. The cattle huddled together in the narrow stalls, and he brought down some feed for them as soon as he rekindled the fire in the hearth.

Dorena opened the inner door for him today, but made him wipe his feet. He'd left the sword and its belt out in the barn, and had wrapped it well to keep the leather from getting too cold and cracking.
Who was I,
to know all this?
Last night he'd seen the face of the old woman with the helm in his dreams again.

There wasn't much to do today except sit by th
e fire and stay warm. Breakfast was scanty, and the mid-day meal even more so. Marysa hadn't brought any scraps from the inn this time, and what was barely enough for three stretched thin with four at the table. Tam distracted himself from hunger with memories of the Midwinter feast less than a month ago, and with wood-carving. After all, a new husband must bring an offering made with his own hands to any marriage if he had no other. Deep in his heart he feared that Marysa regretted her promise to him now, but as long as he kept working on his morning-gift he could pretend to hope.

The storm raged for the next few days. Concentrating on trying to make a set of platters from wood suited only for burning was enough challenge to distract him most of the time. Just getting the basic shape right was turning out to be hard, while keeping all four more or less the same size required Dorena's sewing chalk, the use of one of her needles to stick in the middle, and a piece of thread. A border of flowers engraved around the edge of each platter was actually going
to be easy compared to the rest.

Fortunately, when the frustration of dealing with the splintery wood was too much, he could always work on a present for Jorry. He'd found a small piece of rockwood that would polish up nicely for that. It was just as well that he didn't have the same material for the platters; he'd be shaping
the things till Midsummer.

When even that didn't help distract him from Marysa's silent presence, he left for the barn to care for the cows--and to practice a little with the blade in the yard behind the barn whenever the wind died down. The patterns he'd woven with his staff worked just as well with the long, shining length of steel. His right arm grew tired from the extra weight at first, but he
became stronger quickly.

The days stretched into a couple of weeks. The storm slackened, but the snow was so high Tam felt they were still safe, if
only for a little while longer.

One morning he walked into the cabin with the swordbelt around his waist. It was a little bit loose in the most-used notch, but fit well once he took it in. Tam told Dorena he'd lead the cows out today. The fodder in the barn was disappearing at an alarming rate, and spring was still far away.

"You don't need that just to watch the cattle," the older woman said. Fear brightened her eyes as she gazed at the hilt of the sword.

"I'm sorry if the sight brings you grief," he said. And why shouldn't it, if it belonged to her dead son? "I may need it and I'd better find out what I can do with it before anything happens. There's wolf-sign north of the pasture closest to here." He'd seen it just before Midwinter, though it'd looked old even then. Dorena l
ooked gaunt and frightened. He didn't want to name what—or who—everyone was really afraid of.

If a
wolf showed up in a red silk robe, Tam was willing to use the blade on him, too.
Of course, it's wrong to wonder just how fat the mage is...
he thought with a secret grin.

As Tam wat
ched the cows that day, he practiced the pattern his arm knew better than he did. The physical effort cleared his mind, and a plan emerged. He'd have to sit up and finish one of the platters as soon as possible. That would give him an excuse to go to town.

Maybe he could take the beaded shirt, too. Even if he couldn't find the mage, they needed more food, and soon. Lately he'd dreamed of eating more often than he had of Marysa, though his favorite night-vision combined both.
In his favorite dream he sat in a vaulted hall with her at his side, their plates heaped with luscious fruits whose names he almost remembered.

He ruefully watched over the wretched beasts in his care. Tam knew the family had to keep the cows well fed. They'd prove their worth next year, when they'd be freshened by a neighbor's bull who liked to stray, especially when Aylar loosened part of the fence. Dorena had recounted with gle
e how quickly her husband repaired the thorn-brush barrier once the bull was done and back on his own land. Once their herd was large enough, she'd said, they'd move south and trade the cattle for some land where no one had ever heard of either Lord Honnold or Tigran. He still wondered if it was wrong for him to hope that one of the cows accidentally stepped in a hole and had to be slaughtered.

That evening he worked on
completing one of the platters so he could show it to people in Bogatay as an example of his work. Marysa appeared more cheerful. Perhaps she believed that Tigran had given up on her. Tam wasn't so sure. He'd better act soon.

Jorry fussed a lot that night, probab
ly because he was always hungry. Instead of fighting to get him to bed, Marysa fetched a small board a little longer than it was wide with squares on it, and had her son throw dice with her in a game where they moved the colored wooden pieces around. Tam found it familiar. He knew the better player tried to make a bridge across the long way, while the lesser one only had to block across the width of the board.

Dorena watched, did mending, and offered advice a few times to Jorry, who wasn't sure exactly what to do. Marysa glanced over at Tam, but didn't say anything.

Did she hope he’d given up on her? As the fire burned down, Tam fetched more wood from outside to build it up. Dorena loudly thanked him, but Marysa was quiet. Why? If she'd decided to refuse him, she could certainly say so with her mother here.

Then the older woman stood up with one hand on her back, groaned, and bundled up for a trip to the privy.

The moment Dorena was out the door, Marysa put Jorry to bed. As soon as the boy fell asleep, Tam put his work down. "Marysa, these platters are for your family no matter what you decide. I want to give you another gift that's worth even more. Show me the path to Bogatay and tell me what the mage looks like. I'll make sure he never bothers you again. Tell your mother that I plan to trade my work and the fancy shirt in the chest for other things we need, like food. Or childbane. I'll take one of my carvings with me to show what I can do."

She looked astonished. "How can you do that without getting us in more trouble? Everyone heard me shouting at him!"

Tam smiled. "I'll dress in those fine clothes and be a rich man's son trying to trade on my own. I'll complain about the road, the bad weather, how some family nearby cheated me, and so on. If I don't go back with a lot of money, everyone in my family will laugh at me. In fact, I'll tell the mage that if he helps me now, I'll pay him a lot later when I inherit my Jewel. All I really want is to get him to speak to me in private. Then I'll strike. This sword feels right in my hand, Marysa. I don't know how I learned to use it, but I'm good. He might get one spell in, but he won't live long enough for two." He didn't know who he was trying to convince, her or himself.

"Tam, the risk! You could be killed!"

"If he was as good as Kleos Stoneburner, he'd be at Diesa Tower or the College, not out here. When was the last time you actually saw him burn anything?"

"The day I came home," she said in a dull voice. She gently pulled her bodice over and showed him a half-healed burn on her shoulder. "I didn't want Mama to know."

He went to her side, leaned over, and softly kissed the horrid scar below her beautiful white neck. "Marysa, I'll do this anyway. You've done so much for me already, I have to help. Yet...will you accept this as a gift from me? I've waited as patiently as I can. I'll always love you." His voice broke. Tam turned his head so she couldn't see the tears in his eyes.

"Oh, Tam, it's not your fault. I'm so angry with that mage
, and I make you bear the burden of it." She went into his arms and laid her head on his shoulder.

Marysa fit there as if she had been made for his embrace. Tam sighed, and forgave her everything at once. "Do...do you really care for me?" he asked hesitantly. He'd do anything to deserve her love.

She looked up at him sadly. "Not the way I did Jarrett. But look how he left me! You're the best thing that's happened to me in a long time, and my heart feels like leather. Maybe I don't know how to love anyone any more."

"It doesn't matter," he said softly, and stroked her hair. He felt more tenderness than desire for her now. Maybe if she was safe long enough she'd soften once more. After all, she hadn't given up caring for her son.

"It does matter," she said. "You deserve better."

The door creaked as Dorena returned. Tam backed away, but held both of Marysa's hands in his own and kissed them.

Marysa lifted her chin and said, "Mama, Tam wants to go to town and trade some of his carvings for childbane and food. It's not fair to make us both wait till spring. We haven't done anything wrong, but can't you remember what it was like when you were young?"

Tam prayed for Dorena to agree. Once he and Marysa were married, he'd show her how much he cared. Maybe someday she'd look at him eagerly, and not just patiently. Perhaps when she didn't have to be afraid of the mage her heart would revive.

Dorena looked worried. "You'll have to wait till Aylar gets home. He meant to be back by now, and I wouldn't feel right conducting the ceremony by myself. I want you both to be properly wed, and that means two adults to witness it."

Marysa sighed, and nodded. Tam reluctantly agreed, though he ached to have his betrothed in his arms and in his bed. This was Dorena's house, and they had to obey her rules. Once the real obstacle to this match was gone, they'd all be much safer.

The next morning he made ready to leave. Dorena looked startled. "I said you were going to have to wait," she exclaimed.

"I know. I don't mind. Well, not too much. But we need food, especially since Marysa has to stay here. I can hear Jorry cry at night because he's so hungry. If nothing else, I'll eat in town and that will save more for you. Who know
s me there, Dorena? I'm much safer there than the rest of you."

"Then why are you taking extra clothes?" she asked, gesturing towards the splendid shirt, tunic and breeches that were laid out to be packed in one of Aylar's old knapsacks.

"I'll change into them when I'm just outside the walls. If I look poor, they'll think I'm desperate and try to cheat me. If no one likes the carvings, I'll trade the shirt. It should be worth a lot." He pointed at the jeweled buttons. "Even if they're just glass I can get plenty of food for them. Marysa told me that Bogatay is bigger than I thought, and that means people who want to dress up." Marysa had also told him where the mage lived, and which inn the man preferred.

The older woman grumbled a little, but agreed. Then her face went white when Tam buckled on the sword. "What do you need that for? The town's peaceful enough!"

"Someone might try to steal from me if he thinks I'm rich," Tam said calmly. "I need new clothes anyway. I'm growing out of Darin's and I have to wear your husband's extra boots. If I sell the shirt, I can get some cloth as well as food."
And some childbane,
he thought,
but only if there's extra. I won't starve Jorry for my own pleasure.
"I just want to make sure I come back home with them."

Dorena burst into tears. "Don't you think I know why you're going? As soon as you picked up that sword, I saw what was in your eyes! You'll be killed!"

"No, I won't. Nobody knows who I am or where I come from," he said, pretending to be calm despite the sudden terror inside.

"Then I'll go instead!" she said. "Who looks at a cracked old woman? Oh, you're right, we ne
ed all those things, but you have to stay safe here!"

"None of us are safe, Mama," Marysa said. "The bad weather was the only thing that's kept Tigran from coming here. Maybe he's told Honnold where we are by now. If I thought I could do it, I'd go back, pretend to agree to do what he asks of me, and stab him myself. I don't like it, either! But this is Tam's gift to me. His gift to all of us."

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