Hatchling (Tameron and the Dragon) (34 page)

"Would Scholar Tayn teach me anything you didn't want him to?" he asked softly. "And how many years have I watched you deal with everyone as justly as you could? I learned more from your deeds than I did from anyone's words."

His father's face crumpled for a moment, as if he'd finally been defeated. Then he rallied, and let his expression turn hard. "Then you've been blind all your life! Open your eyes now!"

"I can never see as clearly as the rest of you. I'm not a mage. Kiliane was right about that."

"If you plan to take a position on the Council, then you must take on the same responsibilities," the Protector said sternly.

"Father, we both know that won't happen. Please, don't lie to me!" Tam stood up. "And even if it worked out that way, no one's expected to...to perform their Duty until they've had one chance to choose for themselves. Can't I wait till after Midsummer?" Anything might happen if only he was given the time.

"I wish I could do that much for you," his father said, his head bowed. He raised it up again. Now his face was full of sorrow. "Please, I beg of you. Just talk to her. She's resting nearby."

Tameron knew he had to avoid that if he could. Even if he knew her acquiescence came out of a cup, could he resist Kiliane if she seemed to be willing? "I'm sorry, Father. I know she doesn't care for me. I find it hard to believe she's changed her mind this much so soon." Though he tried to sound confident, he was terrified. He'd never defied the Protector like this.

"Sit down." His father's voice was calm again.

He obeyed. His heart beat even more quickly.

"I know it's hard for you to trust me," Lord Sidian began. "And how can I blame you, after leaving you in the dark for so long? I should have told you last fall what I meant to do, and what your alternatives were. I never should have let you stumble so blindly. You nearly died because I didn't watch over you carefully enough, or help you understand just how very special you really are."

It tore at Tameron's heart to hear his father berate himself so, though somewhere deep inside he agreed with every word. "What's going to happen to me?" he asked, dreading the answer. "The Guardian told me a little bit about Dever Tower. Am I going to spend my whole life a prisoner?"

The Protector's face went blank for a moment. Then he relaxed, and even smiled a little.

He's thought of something he thinks I'll find palatable,
Tam thought sourly.

"It's hard for me to do this," his father began. "None of your alternatives look good. The way I see it, you have three choices."

Do I have any choices at all? Or am I supposed to think I have, only to be forced into doing what the Council or my father wants anyway?
"What are they?" he asked, hoping to hide how much he already knew.

"First, you can still choose to be my heir," the Protector said. "I owe you that much after all my promises to you. But I can't lie and tell you it'll work. Too many people know now that no magic works on you, including healing spells. I've buried four children already, Tam. I don't want to bury you. Stine was right when she told you that your enemies won't stop."

"And I remember telling her that neither would I!"

"I've seen that future, too," his father whispered, his face now pale as death. "I would rather see you dead than become the kind of person you need to be to survive what will happen on that path. Believe me, it's so easy to take one step at a time towards that kind of hell."

And you still want me to take the first one. Can't you see that hurting Kiliane goes there too?
But he knew better than to say it out loud. He was sure the Protector had an answer for that as well. "What are my other choices?" he asked bitterly.

"Stine suggested that you become her successor. I'm sure she's discussed the possibility with you already. But that leads only to your death in the open, rather than
from a knife in the dark or a poisoned cup. No matter how well you're guarded, someone will get through. Remember Gerad, who took money to betray you? On that road another will do it for what he thinks are the best of reasons. Lorin isn't the only dragon-worshipper in this land. If one of them thinks you have become a traitor to them because you're leading warriors against rebels who bear their standard, your death is certain."

That isn't what he said last night. He was afraid of civil war then. Maybe he's afraid that I won't shy away from the possibility, or maybe he fears putting ideas into my head. Besides, Lorin or his friends would never hurt me. They saved my life!
Then he remembered his father saying, 'I can always
offer
him the position.' "And so, what's left?" he asked.

"Dever Tower."

"No!"

"I know the Guardian explained some of it to you. But let me start at the beginning. Not long after you were born, I knew that you were immune to spells. At first I thought you simply had strong shields. Your birth was a hard one, and some infants destined to be great mages react that way to protect themselves. As you grew, I hid you away, for you would have gone to Dever Tower as a child. I thought I knew better than the law. Now you're the one who must suffer for my conceit. If you had grown up knowing what must be, it might not be so hard for you now."

Was the empty chair of the Blessed Mother in the Council Chamber in Kelemath the one that Lorin said he must fill? Tameron doubted it. "Or maybe it would be harder," he said. "I thought only women ever became Blessed Mothers."

"That was true in the past. All other Immunes have been women, and most of them died from giving mages to our land. I kept telling myself I wasn't sure. After all, you might stop having such strong shields when your body changed into that of a man. And I must admit that I hoped you would manifest the talents of all four Elements, and not just one or two. I dreamed you might be the Balance to break the barrier around the Empty Throne all by yourself."

But I am! All the others were, too!
Tameron thought suddenly, and wondered where
that
notion came from. That strange old woman's voice echoed in his mind again.
Run, boy, run...
He shook his head to clear it. He wasn't in Kelemath. When he returned, he'd never be allowed to leave Dever Tower. "I must be a great disappointment," he said.

"Never. For you are the key to my plan to end the division between mage-kind and the commoners. When you cried out against Tigran and those like him, I felt the echo in my own heart. His evil is nothing compared to
what I've already seen growing. Every year magic-users press harder on ordinary people and there's so little I've been able to do to stop it. If our numbers were less, then so would be the burden, but instead we increase. Mages pass on their powers while doing their Duty, and Outsiders come here each year. Even commoners sometimes have children with magic. Yet enough ordinary people remain that they suffer under our leadership. If nearly all of Fiallyn Mor had magic, then things would
have
to change. People would still find ways to oppress each other, but at least they'd have to discover a different reason--and some would find it much more difficult to do so against those who are no longer so helpless."

"And I'm the key."

"Yes. A woman can have only so many children before she dies of it, or passes beyond the time when she is able to conceive. This is why Blessed Mothers are honored above all others. You left us last fall as a boy, but even I can tell you came back as a man, one who could sire an army and take no harm from it."

Tameron thought of something. "
All my brothers and sister were mages. What makes you think mine will be so special?"

"Blessed Mothers only come from families where there is too much magic, rather than too little. This is why it will be better for all if most of your partners are ordinary women, rather than those like Kiliane."

"Then why her?" Tam knew it was hopeless to argue against it, after all he'd heard, but had to try anyway.

Lord Sidian looked old. "Because if I am destroyed by my enemies, you won't be far behind. I doubt any of your children, even one by her, will be like you anyway. For whatever reason, it doesn't seem to pass from parent to child, and I've never heard of two Immunes alive at the same time."

He didn't know what to say. As much as he wanted his freedom, he didn't want his father to pay the price.

"Oh, Tam, I know it's hard to give up all your hopes. But think of what you'll be doing to help the commoners. With your blood in them, mages like Tigran won't dare try to hurt them any more, not without paying the penalty."

"But I'll have to go to Dever Tower," Tam said out loud. He’d be a prisoner forever.

"Yes. Yet your son or daughter will follow me. And if I can raise this child to be like you, then I will be the proudest man in Fiallyn Mor. Most men will envy you, you know. Every month will be like a new Festival when the woman who's lucky enough to be chosen will come to you and be your bride."

And then leave. No matter how much I may care for her, she will never stay. I'll be no better than a whore in a brothel. At least Marysa had the ability to leave the inn when she could no longer stand it, even though she had to worry about Tigran's vengeance. If I go to Dever Tower, then I'm trapped, unless I escape somehow. Where could I go where I'd be safe, with the whole country looking for me?
"I don't know!" he cried.

"You have a little while longer for that decision," his father said soothingly. "But Kiliane can't wait. If she is to bear a child without waiting another month, you must go to her tonight. Part of her temper comes from being deprived of childbane for the last two weeks, and not being allowed to see Mauric. The sooner you act, the happier she will be."

Happy? Not from what I heard last night!
"It's still wrong," he said, but not as vehemently as before.

"I know how difficult this must be for you," the Protector said in a soothing voice.

"No, you don't! You had my mother for all those years, and now you have Mimn! I don't have anybody!"

"At least you don't need the Red Cup to force your body to love any woman," the Protector said in such a low voice that Tam barely heard him. "And if there is any evil in what you do tonight, then let it lie on my shoulders. Kiliane knows that the price of being a mage is the Duty. She's objected so far to all her other partners, so it's not just you."

"Why hasn't she been allowed to have any children with Mauric?" Tam asked, desperate to change the subject.

"Because Mauric has been so loyal to her. We have no idea what sort of children he will have, and the College finds it difficult to match Outsiders of unknown family with those such as Kiliane. Her mother had two other children before she was taken into the Sandega clan, even though the sacred chalice of the womb is far more valuable than the seed-chamber of men. Yours, of course, is different. When you were gone, I feared that you'd either been killed or been taken by my enemies to increase their own power. Tam, it's not going to be that hard for you. Kiliane is strong and ready for child-bearing. Don't disappoint her."

Tameron bowed his head. He knew it was wrong, yet it was tempting to listen to his father. He loathed the idea of being penned up for the rest of his life, the slave of his body's appetites...but one part of him was shamefully pleased at the prospect. No more struggle to win anyone's approval, only a life of ease and pleasure, and yet being able to help the ordinary people anyway. It would be an odd way to fulfill his promise to Aylar, but he understood the Protector's reasoning. What a surprise for those like Tigran to have the common people rise up when magic was used against them!

"I know you're still not happy about it," his father said. "I remember how my grandmother broke the news to me that I had to face up to my Duty if I wanted to be
her
heir despite my own tastes. I can't offer you that. Yet you'll have a month with every woman who comes to you, and I suspect you'll find a way to make your influence known. I must have an heir I can have follow after me, and only Kiliane can be that child's mother. I wish it could be otherwise. You're such a good warrior that people might not see how tender your heart really is. You
will
be doing the right thing by preventing a possible civil war. Kiliane understands, believe me."

Everything that was so clear last night now seemed muddled. Was the Protector right? Maybe he ought to talk to Kiliane and find out how she really felt. For all he knew she
had
changed her mind. He bowed his head.

"I can't believe how late it is!" Lord Sidian said. "You must be starving!" He stood up, went to the door, and said, "Have the trays brought in." Then he sat back down and said, "If it's any consolation, one of my duties is to confer with the Blessed Mother--or the Blessed Father in your case--on behalf of the Council once a month. You'll probably see me more often than you have in the past. I know what that says about me," he ended wryly. "It's possible that Randor will be allowed to visit as well. Cheer up. It won't be as bad as you think."

Both the carrot and the stick. Anything I want except my freedom if I cooperate, and disaster if I don't.
His Duty lay like a leaden weight on his heart. Dare he risk the Protector's life as well as his own by trying to escape this destiny? What if his father was right? What if this was the only way he could help the commoners in this land?