Hatchling (Tameron and the Dragon) (30 page)

Tameron was startled. The commander sounded as if she was proud of him. He'd
hadn’t thought about the dragons in the hills, not after Jarrett warned him off, but maybe he shouldn't have dismissed the idea so quickly.

"I could still
offer
the adoption to him," his father said.

He
was glad he'd listened to all this. Now he knew better than to believe anything the Protector said.

"You could," the Guardian said, almost too softly for Tameron to hear. "And when he does his part, what then? Force him onto a Council who wants him dead or in their power? What happens when we pass on and can no longer protect him?"

"I could train him as my successor, Lord Protector," Stine said. "Who better to guard a child's rights than the father? You both have many good years yet. By the time his oldest grows up, they'll be used to it. He could go armed and protected wherever he went. What a waste of his talents it'd be if he lives in a cage all his life!"

"What if he's wounded, or falls ill?" the Guardian asked.

"Most of that happens out in the field, where there's damn little magic anyway, begging your pardon. And there are worse things than honorable death in battle. No mage has ever cured
that
one."

Tameron nearly struck his head on the underside of the bed from wonder. He'd never thought of that alternative!

"I shall consider it, Commander," Lord Sidian said wearily. "You are dismissed for now."

Tam thought th
ey were done after Stine left. Then the Guardian said, "What do you want the boy to do? I have a right to know."

He wondered about what claim the Guardian might have,
and remembered how she'd spoken of his birth. Perhaps she felt obligated to watch over him, if only a little, because she couldn’t save his mother's life when Lady Aliana was giving birth to him.

"You gave that up when you became Guardian," Lord Sidian said. "Oh, Sigi, I don't know what to do! I hate knowing he can't be Protector after me. He'd be a good one, if the Council would let him. I've tested him every way I know, and he still won't give up trying to do justice. Tam's like a plant trying to grow through rock, putting out seedlings no matter how we trample him. But the Council would pull him up by the roots."

"Most parents would consider that a healthy sign," the Guardian said. "You know how worried I was about him this winter even before he ran off. I fear you're right about the Council, though. What about Stine's plan? They might accept that, and it'd certainly be better than the only alternative I can think of."

"She's right in many ways. I
f Tameron saw injustice done and had no other way to correct it, he might split the country with an army under his command. I didn't know he would change so much while he was gone," his father said. "I haven't heard you offering any alternatives. I'd like to have more of them than I do now."

"We can't protect him forever, especially if Kiliane and he are forced together. She's too wise to seek revenge against you, but she
might urge her family to strike at your son, if only to make sure that any child is under their influence alone. The only place he'll ever be safe is Dever Tower."

Tameron gasped. He wasn't a Blessed Mother! Nor did he ever want to be! Despite his pleasure when he heard his father praise him, he was terrified now.

"I know," the Protector said sadly. "Everything I've done was meant to keep him out of there. Even sending him to Randor's farm in the summer was planned to keep him away from nobles of his own age who might find out that no magic affects him. Oh, Lord and Lady, I should have accepted the Council's verdict as soon as it became clear he had no powers, and let him go to Randor. But he's my
son
, and I couldn't give him up."

"I think there's more to it than that, dear brother, but that's reason enough for now," the Guardian said. "But why can't you do what the Council wants now? If K
iliane is forced into this, she’ll never listen to you again. Why not adopt her, let her have the child she wants by Mauric, and try to find another way before Tam has no choice but to go to Dever Tower or die? Then you can return to Kelemath and give the Council what they want. Why, the old man is still here if you need him. I suspect you've been letting him stay for other reasons besides bad weather. If you'd really wanted him gone, you'd have made sure of it."

Tameron sat
up too fast and banged his head on the bed frame.
She must be talking about Randor! Where is he?
He'd give anything to talk to his old servant again!

His father laughed harshly. "You know me too well. It's easier to keep him here than to have to haul him back if we need him to swear to anythin
g. If I'm forced to drop Tam's claim, his family will actually care for the boy and not use him as a pawn. But I'm afraid Stine's probably right. You were the one who told me that he was actually on his way to kill Tigran when those other two men showed up suddenly."

"We both know how much that mage deserved it," the Guardian said angrily. "I wonder how long it's been since he's faced Salamander in the Fount at Diesa Tower?"

"Calm down. I've pulled his teeth. Now that the young woman he abused has wealth and rank to protect her, I suspect his life will not be terribly pleasant. And shouldn't she be the one to determine that, considering that she was the one most offended?"

The Guardian chuckled. "I bow to your superior planning, brother. However, we're forgetting why we're here. You also learned from Jarrett that Tam took his warning against joining the dragons in the hills to heart. Why not find another home for the boy before everyone knows the truth? Soon it will be much too late. In fact, we both worried that he'd either been killed or abducted because of it."

"I'm afraid it's too late already," the Protector said sadly. "Last fall when Tameron was so ill I did a Scrying. Stine knew what she was talking about. The boy won't give up. Eventually he'll decide that he can organize the dragons better than any bandit-chief. He'll be right. Stine will lose if she must fight him in the hills. I will have to destroy him myself. And if he commands the guards, we'll see civil war instead. Idiots like Lorin already think him the Lost King returned."

Mages strong in the element of air can sometimes see into the future,
Tam thought, and shivered in the chill of death's shadow that seemed to hover at his side.

"Have you considered all the alternatives?"

"They were even worse. Sigi, I want him to live, but I don't know how! I thought this match might buy us some time, given the boy's youth, but Kiliane's family is insisting on it being soon. I know even better than you where
that
will lead. Even in Dever Tower he won't be safe from her revenge in years to come."

"If she has years to come..."

"I thought of that, too! Lord and Lady, Tameron was safer with those people in the woods, wolves and all!"

"I wish you had told me. I might not have been so diligent searching for him. We might not have found him if I hadn't suspected Tigran's complicity in the affair. A few weeks later and the boy would have been gone."

"It wouldn't matter. He regained his memory on his own after fighting the wolves. Jarrett's mind was clear on that. I used the Glass of Vision while Tam was gone, and one of the alternatives showed me his body at the bottom of Anchor Pool in Warding. I can't bear it! Wasn't it enough for me to lose all those others?" his father cried.

Tam
didn't want to hear any more and replaced the tile over the grill. He'd heard the Protector agonize like this once before, when a trusted friend had proven false and Lord Sidian had been forced to execute him. He had walked into his father's quarters looking for Coris Mimn because Randor had fallen and hurt his ankle. He'd heard a little of his father's pain as Mimn tried to reassure the Protector that he'd done the right thing.

Then he remembered what else his father had said.
Randor. Randor was still in the castle!
He had to talk to someone about this. Stine understood hard choices, none better than she, but he needed someone who wouldn’t repeat everything to the Protector.

In the past, his servant always
had a room as close to the kitchen as he could. Randor liked the warmth, and was good at charming cooks.
If I can't find him, I'll speak to Stine after practice tomorrow. But I've got to try!

Tameron
peered out the window. The guards of early evening were gone, replaced by a couple of sentries who huddled together for warmth. He made a mental note of it, which he'd write down later. He dressed, but now he wished he'd kept the boots. If he had to go outside, his current footwear wouldn't be much protection.

No point in tr
ying the door. I have a guard there now, not just in the hall, and I doubt any of them bring a flask.
Then he remembered how Lorin had come in. Perhaps he could use that path as well.

He looked out the window again. He was on the second level, just below the Guardian's quarters on the third. The walls in this section were studded with dragons to indicate her status.
The kitchen's on the ground floor near the stables,
he thought.

Tam grimaced as he removed the slippers and stockings. He'd have to go barefoot, or risk falling. Cold feet could be warmed
again, but a broken neck was more permanent. If Lorin could do it, so could he.

He cut one of his shirts into wide strips. Then he took a blanket off his bed, made a hole in one corner, and hooked it around the casement lock. That'd give him something to hang onto if he fell.

The dragon Lorin had used to enter his room stuck out just above and to the left of his window. Tameron flipped one end of the longest shirt-strip over one of the hind feet, tied it to make a loop, then pulled himself up onto the dragon. The stone was terribly cold, but at least it was dry.

He panted, amazed he'd
made it this far, and glanced nervously at the closest window, now at eye-level. He'd better move fast. The Guardian might retire for the night to her quarters any time.

I can't believe I'm doing this, but anything's better than sitting and waiting for death in whatever form my father's seen in his cursed Glass. Maybe this is something he never guessed I'd do! I'm sure his Scrying gave him the right answers.

It's up to me to come up with new questions.

Chapter 15

For just a moment, Tameron gazed down at the courtyard. The two guards he'd noticed before were doing their rounds as quickly as they could, undoubtedly to go back to the gatehouse to warm up again.
I don't blame them. I'd better start moving before I become a statue myself.

If he had any sense he'd be asleep in his own bed.
Yes, and walking blindly into a future where my father sees only my death. I've got to talk to Randor, and failing that, Stine.

There was only one dragon on the level below him, and that was to the left
again. He didn't think it was near the sitting room; that was directly below his own quarters, and this statue was some distance away. He carefully walked along a narrow ledge that led to it, wincing at each step till his feet began to go numb. Fortunately most of the ice and snow on the ridge had fallen off, but it was still cold.

Once he was directly above the second stone figure, he crouched down, grasped the edge of the narrow walkway--though he gasped at how cold it felt to his hands--and let his legs slide off till he was only a short distance above the wide back of the stone beast below him.

Tam dropped the last few inches onto the sculpture, and had to grab its neck as he slipped down into a straddle position. Lucky for him he took most of the fall on his thigh. The surface was freezing even through his breeches. It knocked the wind out of him a little, but he recovered quickly, tied another strip of cloth around its neck, and scooted backwards till he reached the edging behind him.

He carefully got up and balanced himself on the narrow surface. As he made his way along the side, he peered into each window he could, and listened at those whose casements were firmly closed. After all these years, he could certainly recognize Randor's snoring.

Most of the rooms that he could see into looked like servants' quarters with two beds each. Randor usually had a whole room to himself because of his position, but that might not be true now.

Suddenly he heard noise from the level below, while windows thrown open even in this weather let heat and light escape.
I must be over the kitchens now. They're probably doing the baking for tomorrow.

The next window's casement was slightly ajar.
He peered into it and saw a single bed, occupied by a couple visible only by the light of a small lamp on the night-stand. He nearly fell off into the courtyard when he recognized the two graying heads murmuring endearments to each other.

No doubt the casement creaked, or he'd made
a sound in his astonishment. Stine leaped to her feet and went for her sword without taking time to cover herself, while Randor dove under the bedclothes. "Who's there?" she growled, as she approached the window.