Dragon Blood

"What will you do?" asked the Tamerlain.

"How long was I in thrall to Jakoven?" Garranon asked.

"Four years," she said. "Almost five."

He deliberately stared at the boy, because the answers to the next questions mattered greatly to him, and he didn't want her to know how much.

"You heard what the king wants him for?" she asked. "Jakoven has found Farsonsbane and, in this child's Hurog blood, he has found the key to using it."

"Farsonsbane?" Garranon stared at her a moment. "I suppose my part in your game is to rescue the boy and take him to his brethren. Tell me, what about this spell of Jakoven's?"

There was a pause before the Tamerlain answered. "I can break it."

"You could have freed me?"

She didn't answer.

He turned on his heels to look at her. "Do you think that I have survived this long in court not to realize when I've been manipulated?" he asked bitterly, her betrayal worse than the knowledge that he'd been the king's puppet everyone had always thought him. For nineteen years she had been his only friend, his only confidant. "How kind of you to show me, after all these years, that the king held me in thrall. I assume you will break the king's spell so I don't have to drag this child kicking and screaming all the way to Hurog?"

The Tamerlain stepped back. "It would be better to wait until you're on the trail. He won't be safe in Estian, and given a chance, he'd try and run. He'll sleep until I break the sleep spell the king laid on him as well." She hesitated. "I would have taken the magic off you, but Jakoven would have noticed. It would not have helped you, and Aethervon is limited in how much he can do that is contrary to the king's wishes."

It might have been the truth. Garranon shrugged. "It doesn't matter now. We have no time for this if I'm to get him out of the castle before everyone is awake."

He wanted to ask her if she understood what this task she'd given him meant to his estate and to his wife and son. The king would know who took the boy away as soon as he noticed that Garranon was gone as well. But it wouldn't matter to her, and his wife would not thank him if he left this child at risk because Garranon was afraid for her and for Buril, his home.

The boy didn't awaken when Garranon picked him up and carried him back through the rooms that had once been his.

Garranon traveled the servant corridors. When he passed a few maids, they curtsied to him and averted their eyes from the boy. Garranon had removed a number of children from the play of the higher nobles, and the servants wouldn't go out of their way to report him until they learned whose bed he'd removed this one from.

A stable boy brought his horse without comment, its saddlebags already filled for the journey to Oranstone he'd pla

The stable master held the sleeping boy until Garranon was mounted, then handed him up.

"Poor little tyke," said the master. "He'll be lucky if they haven't drugged him to his death, as fast as he's sleeping."

Garranon nodded; it wasn't necessary that the stable master know that it was magic, not narcotics, that kept the boy quiet. Although his own mare was well used to the company of the Tamerlain, the second mount snorted and sidled when he was led up for Garranon to take the reins.

The stable master frowned. "I'll ride with ye for a bit, if ye need a spare hand. I have an aunt in the south who could take a turn for the worse at any moment."

Garranon settled his burden in front of him and organized his hands until he could control both horses, then shook his head. "Best if you are not caught up in this any further. I'm not sure I'll survive this one with my head on my shoulders."

"Jade Eyes," said the stable master firmly. "He's evil, he is. Don't see what the king sees in him."

Garranon gave him a faint smile and walked his horses out of the stable. The guards at the entry towers opened the gates without challenging him—as they had on other such occasions. Garranon nodded at them and hoped no one would suffer for the ease of his departure. The Tamerlain kept her distance and didn't speak until they were out of the city.

"There's no need to travel all the way to Hurog," she said. "The Hurogmeten has been camped at Menogue since he left Estian, to give him time to recover from his imprisonment. Aethervon gave him dreams so he would know to look for the boy."

Without a word, Garranon turned his horse's head down the less traveled way leading to the old temple.

"It doesn't matter where you go," she said. "He's a Finder. He'll locate you."

On the tail of her words a red mare cantered into view bearing Ward of Hurog—looking much better than he had when he'd confronted the king in court. When he saw Garranon, he stopped and waited for the Shavigman to approach.

"Hurogmeten," acknowledged Garranon. "I have a gift for you—I believe he's your half brother. He calls himself Tychis."

The big red mare flared her nostrils at his horse and ignored the Tamerlain. Ward rode close and touched the sleeping face with a look of relief.

"That's two my house owes yours," he said.

Garranon shook his head. "I think the debt still lies in the other direction. My actions have hurt you more than I've been able to help. Take him." He glanced down at the Tamerlain, but he couldn't tell if Ward could see her, so he said, "I think he'll wake in a little bit," rather than explain her part in the boy's recovery. Even now he protected her secrets. "He might be a little disoriented and a lot hostile, but you need to get him away from Estian."

"He is my brother," answered Ward peacefully. "My brother Tychis. He belongs at Hurog." He looked at Garranon a moment, and the Oranstonian had trouble seeing behind the affable mask to the thoughts ru

"How stands your favor with the king?"

Garranon shrugged. "About as high as any man who might accuse Jakoven of being a pedophile. No. Lower than that, since I stole the boy who would be instrumental—I don't want to know how—in allowing Jakoven to use Farsonsbane."

Ward didn't flinch, so Garranon knew that the Hurogmeten knew about the Bane.

"About where I do, then," said Ward. He watched Garranon for moment and asked softly, "How stands the king in your favor?"

Garranon looked away. "As always," he managed finally. "You'd better take him and ride—I have an extra horse for him. I don't know when the king'll think to send someone to find him. You may have half a day, maybe only half an hour."

Ward shrugged and said, "What would you do if you had a knife and found the king asleep in a back alley with no witnesses?"

Garranon didn't answer, but Ward smiled, and rode his horse around to take the reins of the extra gelding, leaving the boy in Garranon's arms.

"Then come with us to Hurog," he said. "It'll confuse the king a bit—I imagine he'll expect to find you on your way home to Buril. But the king won't hurt them until he has you where he wants you. They'll be safer if you're not there.

"So come with us," Ward said again. "And on the way I'll try to show you why your fate—and mine—might not be as black as you think. Dark, yes. But not hopeless."

"Go," said the Tamerlain, and Ward glanced down at her.

Garranon looked at her a moment, too, then started his horse in the direction Ward had been riding.