mother as he could for any woman, but never as much as he does for Mimn. He didn't want to influence you one way or another until you became certain what you wanted for yourself." She sniffed. "Not that I've ever seen it make much difference!"
"I'm sure Father has planned out my life already." It'd be a little easier for him, he supposed. He already knew he was no lover of men. He'd already had dreams about Jalis, one of the novice guards--especially the day she'd worn her leather armor laced much too tightly. Stine had laughed herself sick when the girl had made mincemeat of most of the boys, though the commander had the girl wear a chainmail shirt over her leather afterwards. He still found Lady Kiliane attractive. "Who will the College of Wizards choose for me? Or will they bother, since I don't have any magical powers?"
"There is more to life than duty, Tameron," the Guardian said gently. She rose from her chair and walked down the steps of the dais. "You're better off with a heart, even when it's broken."
"Is that why you became a Guardian?" He knew the question was horribly personal. He had no right to ask it.
She turned to face him, the hood drooping between them like a wall. "In a way. I've had only one child, but wasn't allowed to keep the infant. My other duty was lost on the way to this one. I couldn't do both." It almost sounded as if she were crying.
He wanted to comfort her, but didn't know how. It must be terrible to lose so much. He hoped she felt it was worth it.
"I promise you one thing, Tam," she said sharply. "If you find someone to love, I have enough influence so you may keep her by your side as long as you both wish. Don't forget to be human!"
"It's all I have!" he shouted, suddenly angry.
"Yes. You must not give it up. Some mages have, and we are the poorer for it."
Tameron was weary and thirsty. He bowed politely, and then left. The Guardian meant to be kind, but his father's will was more important. Caught as he was between the life of an ordinary man and the Duty of a mage, it hurt too much to hope for real love.
I'd better learn how to make do without it, he thought. After all, the Guardian has.
Chapter 4
During the next few weeks Tameron judged other cases, but none of them affected him like the first one. He felt much better physically, and began sword and armor practice with the other guards. One thing was different. He wore wrist-braces now, and became good at slipping them off and on when nobody else was watching. The scars faded, but they burned like brands of dishonor in his mind. At least this way his shame could remain private.
Snow fell nearly every day in the mountains near Lochil, though it was more than a month till Midwinter. Some fell in the town at night, but melted during the day. He rode outside whenever he could despite the weather, and twice a week he was allowed to go out of the Guardian's stronghold with other soldiers his own age. He dressed like they did and carried only a little money. Stine wasn't happy, but admitted that he was safer from assassins when he blended in with the others. "I still don't like it, though," she said for the dozenth time one afternoon as Tameron prepared to leave.
"Being locked up didn't protect me in Kelemath," Tam said. "What good am I to anyone if I never leave my room?" In the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but see Dever Tower.
The commander had no answer to that one, and grudgingly gave her permission for him to go again.
He enjoyed pretending he was just another trainee guard. He was less than a year younger than a couple of them, so he fit in well enough, and relished riding through the streets without being on display. Lochil was a pretty town, with narrow streets nearly covered by the built-out windows of the tall, sharp-roofed houses.
What would it be like to live here as an ordinary person? he wondered wistfully. Surely his life would be much simpler that way!
He and the others stopped to watch a puppet
"I'm sure Father has planned out my life already." It'd be a little easier for him, he supposed. He already knew he was no lover of men. He'd already had dreams about Jalis, one of the novice guards--especially the day she'd worn her leather armor laced much too tightly. Stine had laughed herself sick when the girl had made mincemeat of most of the boys, though the commander had the girl wear a chainmail shirt over her leather afterwards. He still found Lady Kiliane attractive. "Who will the College of Wizards choose for me? Or will they bother, since I don't have any magical powers?"
"There is more to life than duty, Tameron," the Guardian said gently. She rose from her chair and walked down the steps of the dais. "You're better off with a heart, even when it's broken."
"Is that why you became a Guardian?" He knew the question was horribly personal. He had no right to ask it.
She turned to face him, the hood drooping between them like a wall. "In a way. I've had only one child, but wasn't allowed to keep the infant. My other duty was lost on the way to this one. I couldn't do both." It almost sounded as if she were crying.
He wanted to comfort her, but didn't know how. It must be terrible to lose so much. He hoped she felt it was worth it.
"I promise you one thing, Tam," she said sharply. "If you find someone to love, I have enough influence so you may keep her by your side as long as you both wish. Don't forget to be human!"
"It's all I have!" he shouted, suddenly angry.
"Yes. You must not give it up. Some mages have, and we are the poorer for it."
Tameron was weary and thirsty. He bowed politely, and then left. The Guardian meant to be kind, but his father's will was more important. Caught as he was between the life of an ordinary man and the Duty of a mage, it hurt too much to hope for real love.
I'd better learn how to make do without it, he thought. After all, the Guardian has.
Chapter 4
During the next few weeks Tameron judged other cases, but none of them affected him like the first one. He felt much better physically, and began sword and armor practice with the other guards. One thing was different. He wore wrist-braces now, and became good at slipping them off and on when nobody else was watching. The scars faded, but they burned like brands of dishonor in his mind. At least this way his shame could remain private.
Snow fell nearly every day in the mountains near Lochil, though it was more than a month till Midwinter. Some fell in the town at night, but melted during the day. He rode outside whenever he could despite the weather, and twice a week he was allowed to go out of the Guardian's stronghold with other soldiers his own age. He dressed like they did and carried only a little money. Stine wasn't happy, but admitted that he was safer from assassins when he blended in with the others. "I still don't like it, though," she said for the dozenth time one afternoon as Tameron prepared to leave.
"Being locked up didn't protect me in Kelemath," Tam said. "What good am I to anyone if I never leave my room?" In the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but see Dever Tower.
The commander had no answer to that one, and grudgingly gave her permission for him to go again.
He enjoyed pretending he was just another trainee guard. He was less than a year younger than a couple of them, so he fit in well enough, and relished riding through the streets without being on display. Lochil was a pretty town, with narrow streets nearly covered by the built-out windows of the tall, sharp-roofed houses.
What would it be like to live here as an ordinary person? he wondered wistfully. Surely his life would be much simpler that way!
He and the others stopped to watch a puppet
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