Hatchling (Tameron and the Dragon) (22 page)

Tam hadn’t
thought about that. The Protector continued. "I'm lucky that Tigran stole from his own kind as well as from commoners, or I never would have been allowed to do as much to him as I did."

The Guardian murmured something about a Rite of Purification. His father turned his head to her, and said, "They'll never stand for it these days. I agree, it
is
a pity."

Tamer
on had never heard of it. He suddenly thought of something. "Lord Protector, if Tigran is taking money and goods by threats, Lord Honnold probably never sees it. In fact, who knows? He might be paying Tigran to hide something, too. Does the mage pay his Tenth on what he's stealing from others? He may be cheating you as well as all the rest. If you punish him for that, his family would be the first to understand." He was rather proud of coming up with that. Perhaps that might get his father to do something about the man.

Lord Sidian laughed, but with a sour edge to it. "You learn fast. Perhaps you'll do better than I thought."

"I know I will," Tam said. "When...if the day comes that I sit in your place, a lot of people will find out what I really think!" He'd do anything to prove Aylar was right to trust him.

"That's what I'm afraid of," his father said, but in a gentler voice. "I shoul
d have expected this. You've spent your whole life with commoners, and not just the last couple of months. It's my fault for never finding time for you. Of course you to cling to servants and to Stine's guards. Tayn is your tutor, but he's always considered scholarship more important than his powers.

"That has
to change. It's time you learn how to deal with mages as well. After all, nearly half of us have powers, a far higher proportion than in other lands. You must be able to understand us, too. Normally you'd be in the Wizard's College by now, but naturally that's out of the question. That's why I've told the servants not to speak to you unless they must. It'll do you good to know young Mauric and Lady Kiliane. I've been neglectful in failing to arrange something like this before. Take advantage of this opportunity before we go back to Kelemath. Truly, we're not all as bad as some of those on the Council." The Protector slumped in his chair, looking exhausted.

So that's the reason for the silent treatment!
Tameron thought.
Oh, Lord and Lady, make me strong enough to help my father carry his burdens, instead of adding to them.
He still had one more question. "When will I know if anything--if anything happened to me while I was gone that I don't know about?"

"Dorena remembers you quite well," the Guardian said. "We need to search the memories of her daughter and husband, and then I believe you may consider yourself quite safe. We must also test their minds for tampering. It's not that we don't trust you, but our enemies can be subtle
. After all, Jarrett could be part of a plan to gain your pity for these people. The examination shouldn't take long, however. No matter what really happened, you've clearly been through a great deal. I promised the old woman that you'd be cared for, and I meant it, no matter what has or has not been done to you."

Tameron bowed his head, and hoped his aunt would understand why he hadn't mentioned
everything
in his story. If Marysa had been part of any plan, surely she would have found a way to get around her mother's watchful eye long before Jarrett showed up, instead of holding him off. "I hear and obey, Lady Guardian," he said. "But once everything turns out all right, may I attend drill with Commander Stine?" He'd need
those
skills no matter what happened to him.

"Certainly," his father said waspishly. "Considering how well she executed my previous orders on how to treat you, I suppose it'd be a waste of breath to forbid it anyway."

"My lord, forgive me," Stine said, and knelt. "I thought it best that he not offend you by his appearance when he first got here. It seemed wrong not to let him eat, as thin as he looks."

The Protector sighed, and gestured for her to rise. "I fear in my eagerness to see my son that I didn't think of that," he said with an exasperated air. "I ought to be glad you did."

Then Tameron asked what he really wanted to know. His voice shook despite his attempt to keep it steady. "What...what of Randor? Is he well?"

The Guardian answered. "He has served our family for a long time," she said in a kindly voice. "He has been released and allowed to return to his own kin to rest. He will, of course, be properly rewarded for his years of c
aring for you. You shouldn’t try to look for him."

His father's face allowed no appeal. Tam knew it was hopeless to object. "As you wish," he whispered. He must not weep. He wasn't a child any longer, and had to take up a man's burdens. He remembered his promise to Aylar, which helped. He couldn't be a good Protector if he let his own needs
stand in the way of what had to be done. It hurt so much to lose the one person he'd depended on all his life, though, he couldn't say anything more.

Lord Sidian looked uncomfortable. Perhaps he'd expected an argument and was surprised at not
hearing one. "Escort him back to his room, Stine," his father said after a long silence. "I'll send you the schedule I've planned for him once we're certain everything's been accounted for."

Tameron backed away as protocol demanded, then turned around when he felt the door at his back. Stine opened it for him. Just as he walked through it, she murmured, "In case anyone forgot to mention it, welcome home."

Chapter 12

Stine and the other guards quickly escorted him up the stairs to his old
set of rooms. Tameron couldn't believe how tired he was, and was glad to be left alone once he'd entered the small suite.

No,
he wasn't in a cell. His study, bedroom, and necessary room were larger than Aylar's cabin. Rich wooden paneling glowed in the filtered sunlight that came in the thick glass windows. Warm air flowed into the place through vents from a source beneath the palace that drew on the heat of the earth itself, while the frames of the windows were so cunningly fitted that no breath of winter dared to force its way into the rooms. Tam smiled as he glanced at the door that led into the privy. He did
not
miss the cold little shack behind the cabin!

The servants had kept his things in order. His boots were polished, while his other clothes hung like waiting soldiers behind the wardrobe doors. Of course, none of them fit any more, but they certainly looked elegant enough. His bed had layers of thick blankets and soft linen sheets, while his desk held several books. The place looked
as if he'd never left.

Once he'd heard the steps of his escort move away, he sank down onto the plush material of the coverlet and wept. He'd trade it all in a moment for the ragged quilts Dorena had offered him. Unfortunately, he hadn't been given a choice. Her family had no room for him, either.

After a short while, his tears ran dry. He got up from the bed and knelt at the small shrine in the far corner. Even that had been kept dusted. He bowed his head before the figures of the Lord and Lady. Did They really watch over him, or were they just dolls like the one for Darin that Dorena had kept on her hearth?

When he was much younger, he'd imagined the icons in his room in Kelemath would talk together while he slept, the way that Esa and Randor had murmured near his bed when they believed he was already lost to his dreams. After his nursemaid had died, it had comforted him to think that she might be helping the Lady look after him.

Tameron looked at his hand, already half-raised to tap in supplication on the little table near the statues. He wasn't a child any more. Dorena's fervent prayers had been answered in a way no one could imagine, but he knew better than to expect such help for himself.

The only person who'd showed any joy at his return had been Lorin and that other guard. He still couldn't make any sense of what they'd said. Why did it make a difference whether he was back in Kelemath or not? It...it was as if he were a stone dragon, and they were about to light a candle for him.

Suddenly he trembled. The puppet play, the arrows with white fletching, and the dragon tattoo on Jarrett's wrist--there was a connection, some common factor, and he was terrified it might be him. He remembered the dream of that room in Kelemath. Should he go there and find out if he could enter it in real life?

No wonder my father is suspicious of me
, he thought.
He must know what people are saying, and wonder if I think I’m the Dragon. When I tell him how much I want to help the commoners, he must think that I'm ready to join the rebels in the hills. I've got to find a way to show that I'm really loyal to him!

He couldn't pray. Tam got back up on the bed, removed his boots, and rubbed his painful feet. Then he removed the too-short breeches and examined the scars on his leg. His calf still ached, so he massaged the muscles till they became looser.
Once his leg felt better, he started to exercise, so it would be as strong as the other one.
If I'm to be a prisoner
, he thought,
I'd better try to stay as active as I can. Stine once said that it was easier to keep captives from escaping if they became weak.
Of course, the commander had been talking about those who acted against the Council at the time. Tameron grimaced. He'd never imagined that he'd ever be treated like one.

He put his trousers back on and went to the other small room, just for the no
velty of having so much space. Tam sat on the chair, idly swinging his injured leg and wondering what to do next. He was still full from the meal Stine had given him. By this time of day at Dorena's he would have worked for several hours, eaten a spare mid-day meal, and wonder when he could take the cows in. After that, he would help the old woman with any of the evening chores she'd let him do, and watching Jorry. Even when he'd been laid up after the wolves' attack, he'd had the small boy to amuse and Marysa to look at.

It felt odd to have nothing to do. Even when he'd
watched the cows he'd foraged for edible plants, or worked on his carving. That gave Tam an idea. He looked inside the small box under the table near his bed. Several half-finished pieces of wood were inside, but the sharp tools he normally used were all gone. He didn't expect to see his sword or dagger back for a while, but was surprised they'd been so thorough.

It didn't matter. If he were truly intent on doing harm to himself or others, no one could stop him. Stine had taught him too well that weapons were everywhere, in the guise of common household goods. Why, one of his shirts could easily be turned into a deadly noose, while a heavy book tied shut and wrapped in a sheet could be used as a makeshift club.

Tameron smiled to himself, feeling a bit less helpless as he looked at all the things the servants
had
left in his room, thinking them harmless.
They don't need to worry anyway. Even if they gave me my sword, my dagger, and the weapons in the storeroom combined, my promise to Aylar keeps everyone safer than all the precautions in the world.

At least they'd left him his books. His tutor, Scholar Tayn, had once told him that proper learning was deadlier than the sharpest blade. He hoped it was true. Tam selected a volume he normally avoided, since he usually preferred exciting stories of battles to dry tales of the law. Now he had to make words his sword and shield. They were all he had left.

Once he began to read, it wasn't as bad as he'd expected. Each rule was illustrated with a case, occasionally tragic, but sometimes silly, that showed what the law meant and how the writer of the book had thought it should be used.

Tameron concentrated on one about a fast horse, often used to race against others, which had disappeared. The man who'd lured the beast away by leading a mare in season near the owner's barn had protested his innocence. He was found guilty of theft even though the horse had been returned in less than a week. Tam blushed, and remembered Liselda, who'd been paid by someone to lure him the same way. It'd certainly come close to working in
his
case! And at Dorena's cabin, Marysa had told him how they'd borrowed the neighbor's bull to freshen the cows each year. Deliberately leaving a fence down for a bull known to stray could easily be seen as theft according to this rule.

He hastily turned the
next page and went to another chapter, hoping to keep his mind off of what he'd lost when Jarrett had come back. Then he heard a knock at the door. He jumped to his feet, hoping against hope that someone he cared for wanted to see him. Tam's heart sank a little when he saw it was just Lorin with a tray of food, but that was better than some blank-faced guard who simply obeyed orders. "Thank you," he said softly, and took his dinner from his friend's hands. It wasn't that late; the light from his window hadn't dimmed much yet, but he supposed they must believe him to be starving.

Lorin looked about nervously, but said nothing.

"I know what my father's orders are, so you don't have to say anything. But no one ever told me I couldn't talk!" Tam said, forcing himself to sound cheerful.

"They don't want you to know--they're afraid of you, even the Protector," Lorin whispered. "I heard you're going to be kept prisoner in a tower even when
we go back to Kelemath. It's not right!"