Hatchling (Tameron and the Dragon) (31 page)

Tameron flattened himself against the wall away from the window. It was no use trying to hide, but he was so embarrassed he didn't dare look. "Pardon me, sir," he said, turning his face away as Stine opened the casement. "I was searching for Randor."

"Well, you found him!" She laughed. "I doubt you expected to find
me
at the same time! Two for the price of one. Now maybe the Guardian will believe me when I tell her I need to put guards on the roof to look down for burglars. The Protector has me keep such a watch on the palace in Kelemath, but the Guardian's always forbidden it here. Maybe she'll change her mind after tonight. But don't just stand there. Come in!"

Tam had trouble climbing inside
while trying to avert his eyes. He finally just clambered in while pretending to ignore the whole situation. At least Stine had put a robe on by the time he was all the way inside the room. Randor was fully dressed, and his face was crimson. This wasn't quite the meeting that Tameron hoped for.

I
'd better try to explain myself. I'm the one who's intruding.
"Stine, I need to talk to Randor without anyone else hearing. I know you mean the best for me, but this is about matters, that I, um, I need to talk to him about." He'd never thought of Stine as a woman until a few moments ago--certainly not the way he had Marysa, or even Dorena. The flowing lines of her robe made everything different.

She shook her head and began to dress in her usual tunic and breeches. "Lad, if you're going to be a soldier, you'll have to get over blushing from a bit of skin. Why, I could relight this lamp from your face. There's not a thing you have to say that I haven't heard before."

"Probably not," he said, as his face went hotter than ever. Stine was right, of course, but he still wanted her to leave. He could tell Randor a lot more than he could possibly tell her.
She's taken an oath to serve my father, and might be guilty of breaking it if she helps me.

"All right, all right, I can take a hint," the commander said with a laugh. She finished dressing and left the room.

Tameron hung back for a moment. He was too old to lean on Randor's shoulders, no matter how much he wanted to. Then the old man stood up, his arms open in greeting. Tam found himself sobbing in his servant's embrace. "I can't do it, Randor, I can't! She hates me!"

"There, there, lad, Stine told me all about it. Stand over there in the light and let me look at you properly. Blessed Lord, how you've grown!"

"I wanted to see you, but they wouldn't let me," Tam said, now ashamed he'd been so weak. Randor was right to remind him that he was nearly a man, at least in size.

"I've been penned up myself," the old man said, pacing around the room. "I told them I couldn't leave till the weather was decent. I'm glad I stalled now, especially after what I heard tonight." He smiled haggardly.

Tameron turned towards the window, where he'd entered. It was hard saying this face to face. "The commander doesn't know all of it. If I won't do it, they'll give me the Red Cup, whatever that is. Father doesn't really want me to take Stine's place or become Protector. Either I'll start a war, he believes, or I won't live long enough to do any good. He doesn't like either one, but can't think of any way out of it. Even if I go to Dever Tower he thinks his enemies will finally get me."

Randor said, "Dever Tower? After all the Protector's done to keep you out?"

Tam looked at his old servant's face. "You knew all along, didn't you?"

"Of course I did. The first time you were sick, you were only a baby. Esa went straight to find a healer, and nearly tore Mimn to pieces when she found out you couldn't be helped. The Protector spoke to both of us, then, and explained why we had to keep it secret. Your father really hoped you'd have magic to help yourself, though. He thought that since you couldn't bear children yourself you'd have more than enough power on your own. Stine was suspicious from the beginning, with every bruise or cut you
picked up in practice that had to heal on its own. The Protector wasn't the only one who got nightmares the time that bandit-lord nearly killed you! And when...when I found you in that pool of blood..." Tears ran down Randor's face. "I wondered if we'd all been wrong. Maybe we should have told you."

"And live every moment of my life in fear?" Tam asked softly. "That's the real reason I ran. Now Father thinks I might not even be safe in Dever Tower, but if I do what he wants me to, I'll only make it worse!" His voice cracked. "I don't want to die!"

Randor sat down on the bed with a stunned look on his face. "Are you sure of all this?"

"Yes. My room's right over where they met tonight. There's a grill under my bed with a tile covering it. I heard everything. Lady Kiliane was there first. If she won't do what they want, they're going to force her as well. Father said he'd shadow her powers till a child was born if he had to. She was crying when she left."
He wished he could forget the sound. "She'll hate me forever. Her whole family will try to assassinate me if she dies." He didn't want to say, or even think,
or if Father has her killed.
He desperately hoped that wasn't what the Protector had meant by the phrase 'if she lives...'. He continued speaking. "Then Stine was there. You probably know that part. After she was dismissed, it was just the Protector and the Guardian. She tried to speak up for me, but it didn't do any good. I have to find a way out, Randor. I can't just sit here waiting for them to decide whether they'd rather have me penned up or force me to be a target."

"I just have a hard time believing it," Randor said. "It's not like your father to give up. He spent all this winter taking the country apart stone by stone, looking for you!"

"I wish I'd stayed lost," Tam said.
If Father was right, I probably would have died that way, too.
He looked out the window. Wasn't there any other alternative? "I've been kept a prisoner since I got back."

"The guards are for your protection," Randor said. "You know your father's enemies have tried to kill you twice."

"And which ones are taking money, like Gerad? Whatever happened to him, anyway?"

"Oh, lad, you don't want to know. The girl turned out to have no idea what was going on beyond what she said before, but she was
just the bait. Once your father was done with Gerad, the man didn’t know his own name any more. Before he stopped being able to talk, though, he spilled everything. The man who paid him was long gone by that time, and so were you. Now do you see why we feared the worst when you disappeared? We thought you dead, or locked up someplace."

"I suppose that's why I can't even get a pair of new boots," Tameron grumbled, as he bowed his head.

"Most people don't go climbing the walls in their bare feet, I must admit." Randor said. "Let me take a look at them. They must be frozen!"

Tam showed him the red marks turning into darker bruises along the sides and tops of his feet, as well as the raw places on his ankles. "I held onto my old ones as long as I could, and then I just gave up," he said. What Randor didn't know about Lorin wouldn't hurt him. "And slippers don't help much on walls."

"I'll have a word with the boot maker right off!" the old man said indignantly.

"Father was there first," Tameron said. "I already asked for a new pair, or one ready-made close to my size. The cobbler said it was the Protector's command that he couldn't help me. Father doesn't know what to do with me, but he's not goi
ng to let me have any say in it. If he would just talk to me…there has to be a way.”

"Tam, sit down here," Randor said, looking older than ever.

He complied, suddenly feeling weary. "What am I going to do?" He asked softly. "Is there any way you can help me?"

"No," the servant said. Randor looked defeated. "Play for time, lad. Do what your father wants you to. Let yourself be taken to Dever Tower. If there's anybody who can find a way out of it, it's you. If you want to survive, you've got to be willing to do anything."

Tameron slumped as he sat on the bed, then straightened as he thought of something, sparked by a case he'd read in one of his law books. "At Midsummer I'll be considered an adult," he said. "If I can drag things out till then, I'll ask to be set aside and adopted by a family of ordinary people because of my lack of powers. Maybe the Council doesn't know for sure that spells don't work on me."

"I think some of them do, lad. But you'd have to get before the Council to ask for your freedom. The Prot
ector will hardly agree to that."

"I won't petition him. I'll lay it directly before them one way or another. If they don't want me on it,
then they'll agree. I'll pledge my word to support my father's heir, even Lady Kiliane," he said. "I'll be outside the succession altogether. Why should anyone care about me then? That should change at least one of the futures that Father saw for me."

Randor still didn't look happy. "What makes you think you have till Midsummer, lad?" he asked. "I wish you could do what the Protector wants voluntarily. I know you think it's wrong to, to, act that way--"

"It's called rape, Randor," Tam said. "I'd be no better than Tigran. You probably heard what he tried to do to Marysa, but in case you didn't, he tried to use his powers to force her."

"What do you think the Wizard's College does to mages who refuse a partner they've picked out?" his servant said. "Those who care only for their own gender face this all the time. That's where the Red Cup comes in. Tam, do what your father asks. That potion's dangerous, especially for you!"

"What is it?" Tameron asked, feeling chills go down his back. By now he thought he knew, but why would it be perilous?

"It's a drug to help mages who have used their powers too much or are too old to be any good in bed.
For men, anyway. It doesn't hurt women, or so I've been told. But a lad like you, with no real magic, shouldn't go near the stuff. Even with ordinary men who are old or who don't have much interest, it just puts back what ought to be there. But I heard of a fellow in Kelemath who bought some because he was tired out and wanted to impress his new lady. After he did some things you're too young to hear about, he was finally declared soulless by the mages."

Tameron had heard about the Bog Butcher three years ago, and wondered if it was the same man. He knew the soulless were always put to death. He'd read in his law books that they knew no law or will besides their own, and were often discovered after committing crimes that showed they believed no one was truly real save for themselves.

Other illnesses of the mind such as visionlust or greatfear could be cured by someone as skilled as the Guardian or Coris Mimn, but not this one. Only death could banish the demons who moved into the empty space vacated by a spirit which had fled.

"What do you think the Red Cup would do to me?" Tam whispered. He'd rather be dead than lose himself that way. Yet he couldn't force himself on Kiliane, not even to save his life.

Randor shook his head and shuddered. "Do what your father says, lad. After all, the girl's a mage. If she wants the power your father's offering her so badly, she should be willing to pay the price."

“
You didn't hear her crying, Randor,” he said. Then he suddenly knew what he must do. Even dying up in the hills as a bandit was better than this. Maybe Jarrett was right about what a waste of time it was, but it didn't matter now. He must escape, and soon
. A good thing Stine wasn't here. She probably got sick of looking for me this winter!
"Randor," he asked, "could your farm use another hand?"

The old man sat down and put his face into his hands. "The Lord and Lady forgive me, you can't go there. My place will be the first one they check if you go missing again. My whole family will be at risk. Everything I've done for you has been for them."

And not for me.
He felt cold and remote now. In his heart, Esa and Randor had been his real parents. Now he saw where he really stood. At least Dorena had been willing to argue with the Guardian for his sake, while Randor only urged him to obey his father. "You're right, of course," he said faintly. There was no use saying more.

The old servant looked up. "Lad, if there's some other way I can help, I'll do my best. But I've got to look out for
my kin, too. I found out just how much all my years of service counted while you were gone, Tam." He sounded bitter.

Perhaps with good reason,
he thought absently. "I hope my father has rewarded you for your great sacrifice," he said tonelessly. "It must have been hard to give up your
real
family for me." He wished he could have bitten the words back as soon as he'd said them, when he saw how hurt Randor looked.

"I know how this looks. I don't blame you for being unhappy." The old man approached him with open arms.

Tam stood up from the bed and moved away. "This is my life, Randor. I learned to value it while I was gone. But Kiliane is a person, not just some girl. She's in love with someone else. Doing--doing what my father says is too high a price. Enough of that and I'll become soulless even without the Red Cup.

"Fortunately, I may be spared that choice. Apparently I'm doomed no matter what I do. Who knows, the Protector might be right about that. The next time his enemies strike will probably be my last. And in Dever Tower I suspect I won't have any choices at all. There is no place for me in Fiallyn Mor." He bowed his head.
Oh, Aylar, I hate to break my promise to you. But it's obvious they'll never let me be anything but a prisoner.