Return to Alastair (11 page)

She nodded, looking from Martica to Tahn quickly. Martica looked angry, despite what she’d just been told. But Tahn looked like he was in pain, as though he’d seen something that grieved him terribly.

“I heard it said that before Onath you were a hired fighter,” Martica was saying as she stared hard at Tahn.

“And that some such men are become bandits now, robbing all the travelers passing by here. Are they the same men you were with?”

“Some of them.”

“Then you know them well?”

“I once did.”

“Tiarra, child!” Martica exclaimed. “How can you know what this one is about? He might have set the bandits on you himself, just so he could play the hero for you!”

Lorne started to speak, but Tahn grasped his arm and stopped him. Tiarra was staring at the old woman in shock.

“Martica—”

“No, child. I want you to listen to me. This world is full of deceivers. The devil himself would appear as an angel of light! Did he let all the bandits get away?” She coughed with a straining effort, and Tiarra was stricken at how quickly she could be so sick again.

“They all left,” Tiarra said in a tiny voice.

“I could have told you that. What are you about, Tahn Dorn? Why have you come? What do you want with this dear child?”

Tahn was quiet for a moment, just looking at her. When he spoke, he sounded somehow far away, in another time. “Why do you hate me so?”

She coughed and then struggled to get her breath. She was so nearly choked again. Tiarra got her a cloth and water. Martica feared not for her own death, nor even for Tiarra, who was almost in the clutches of her strange brother. She feared now for whatever of her own life remained, that Tiarra would catch her in her lie and leave her alone to suffer. She must try to keep her, somehow.

“You know what happened to your mother, child,” the old woman stammered. “You know you can’t trust him.”

“Tell me what happened,” Tahn pressed.

“You’re a wonder to come back here!” Martica exclaimed.

“The people fear you, or they wouldn’t stand for it. I heard what they say, that a killer is in our midst again.”

He ignored the harshness of her words and asked, “Was Karra Loble my mother?”

Martica coughed again. “She was your mother, but you were not her son! You were Sanlin’s son, traveling with him, stealing people blind.”

“Was it he truly who killed her?”

Martica stared at him for a moment and then struggled angrily to sit up. “You’re a fiend!” she yelled. “Even I had no idea you could be such a fiend! How could you dare come here and question that? Have you chosen the devil’s part so much? He killed her, and none of your lies can change that. She was a good heart, and you took her away from us. Curse you, boy! How dare you claim otherwise!”

Her words stabbed at Tahn, and Tiarra and Lorne both knew it. They looked at each other for a moment. Tiarra did nothing, but Lorne put his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“Tell me what happened,” Tahn pleaded of the old woman again, kneeling at the same time.

“I don’t want you in my house.”

“I understand. But I’ll not hurt you. Please, before I go, tell me my part in what was done, that I may take it before God, lady. It is better to have all in the open and ask his mercy.”

“Mercy, you say?” Martica shrieked nervously. “You came looking for her! She knew Sanlin was trouble. But you were her son. How could she refuse you? You came looking for her and received her tender embrace. And then you led her away to her death, boy, to where he was waiting! And you used the knife he’d given you, didn’t you, child, always ready to work at his side?”

Tahn just looked at her, struck speechless.

“Do you really expect mercy?” she asked him. “Did your mother receive any?”

He couldn’t answer her. He was remembering her, angry and afraid, staring out at him from her doorway. “He’s the one!” she’d shouted to someone. “He’s the one!”

He looked down at her gnarled old hands and thought of her pointing finger. He’d been looking for his mother. There was no way he could deny that. It had followed him in his dreams. And he had led her to her death? Was that the fear he’d felt? He thought of that soft touch and started shaking. She had loved him. She had claimed him, to her own hurt. Tears filled his eyes, and he bowed his head, unable to contain them.

But Lorne was not willing to believe the tale. “Did you see it happen?” he questioned.

“Get out!” Martica demanded. “Get out of my house!”

“Did it ever matter to you that he was a
child
?” Lorne persisted.

Martica stared at him, the simple question cutting to her heart. Of course she knew he’d been a tiny thing, despite what she’d told Tiarra. And seeing him here, she knew he didn’t remember. She should feel guilty, seeing him so affected by her words. His meekness was difficult to bear. How could he have grown to manage that? He was still Dorn’s son, even trained by Sanlin’s murderous kinsman to deceive and destroy. “I told you to get out,” she told them coldly.

“I have nothing else to say to you! Go away!”

But Tahn’s words jumped into her mind again.
It is better to have all in the open. Ask God’s mercy.

She watched the blond man lean over his friend. She watched them slowly rise in front of her. She remembered the past so well. Sanlin’s boy coming in and leaving again with his mother. But in the morning, when Martica already knew that Karra was dead, the boy had come back, alone, searching for his mother again with fear in his eyes. He couldn’t find her, for all he tried. And when the crowd came at him, he’d looked so confused. He didn’t know. He didn’t know why they were angry. He didn’t know she was dead. He’d looked for her even then, among the faces of that horrible crowd.

The knowing of it choked at her, and she coughed again, worse. It would gnaw at her, she knew it would, what she was doing to him. But she couldn’t tell him in front of Tiarra and have her know how she’d lied. She couldn’t make him look the victim in front of the girl! How could she ever keep Tiarra from his grasp then? He might have worked his way into noble graces, but Karra would have feared that for her daughter as much as the lawlessness.

They were leaving, because of her words. But Tahn faced her again, his eyes so deep with hurt that she could not look into them. “I gained no mercy from Alastair then,” he said. “I had no chance to beg forgiveness. I do so now.” He turned and looked at Tiarra. “Of both of you. Please forgive me.”

Martica could scarcely bear it. “Just go,” she told him, the emotion breaking over her voice. “Go away from us.”

She looked up at Tiarra, who stood in stony silence against the wall. The girl would hate her if she knew. She would hate all of Alastair if she knew what no one would dare to say. They’d known. Men of Alastair had known that Karra was going to die. The cunning old baron had told men he could trust who it was that would do the deed and what must be done to make sure he didn’t leave their town alive. Even the boy was supposed to die, that’s what the baron had ordered. But no one had known of Sanlin’s kin. No one knew of the terrible man who would come and snatch the boy away before he could die in his agony.

She coughed, and suddenly she cried in the midst of it, still haunted by Tahn’s words.
Have all in the open. Ask God’s mercy.

Openness might never happen. Not in Alastair, a poor city that bowed to the will of a powerful man who held debt against them. Among the mob that was gathered, someone should have tried to help Karra. Someone should have questioned how the baron had known what would happen, and why no one had witnessed the act. But no one questioned. And now the screams of a child always stood in the way. No one wanted to face the awful depth of their shame.

“Are you all right?” Tiarra asked her, knowing her tears. But Martica couldn’t bear her sympathy. Perhaps she deserved to die alone and hated. “Please, child,” she said. “Leave me alone.”

Tiarra obeyed, struggling in her mind over all she’d just seen. Martica had truly loved her mother. That must be why she was moved so. But she could not understand her brother’s tears. If anything really mattered to him so much, then how could things have been the way they’d been?

She followed them out, wondering what they would do now. Would they just go back to Onath? Or would he want to stay, hoping to find jewels, as Martica had said before?

She shook her head suddenly. Whatever Tahn Dorn was about, it wasn’t that. It just didn’t fit him. They were by the horses in the moonlight, and Tiarra stood in the shadow of the doorway watching them.

“Remember the valley of God you told me about,” Lorne was saying. “The devil would have you in this, friend, but don’t listen to his condemnation. Whatever the truth is, you were a child, and God loved you even then.”

“I know,” Tahn assured him. “He loves me still, and he’s known the truth all along. I’m all right, Lorne. Don’t be worrying for me.”

“So what do we do now? Find a room again?”

Tahn shook his head. “I don’t want to leave Tiarra alone. I shouldn’t have told Burle she’s my sister. Now he’ll think he has a way of getting at me and that he has men enough to do it.”

Lorne was quiet for a moment.

“They don’t want us in their house,” Tahn told him. “But they can’t stop us from staying within sight.”

“No!” Tiarra suddenly burst in. “You can’t. Martica would not have it.”

“Forgive me,” Tahn told her, “but I’ve just found you. Regardless of the past or what you think of me, I’ll not lose you now to Burle’s ragings. Have they troubled you before?”

“Yes,” she told him. “Three of them, once before.”

“Is that how you got the bruises?”

She nodded.

“Do they know where you live?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Stay here, then,” Tahn commanded her. “Don’t go back to your work until we have this settled.”

“But I have to work!”

He shook his head. “You need to stay here, and Lorne will stay in sight of you until I find someone to send with him back to Onath.”

“No!” Tiarra protested. “You can’t just decide this!”

Lorne had a protest of his own. “Tahn, I don’t want to leave you here alone. Burle will be looking for you.”

Tahn sighed. Almost he could wish to leave Alastair himself now. It would be so much simpler. But he knew Burle had meant what he’d said. People would be in danger, especially Tiarra. He couldn’t walk away from it, no matter what else this town bore for him. “Do you think I’m wanting to fight them again, Lorne?” he asked. “I want no part of it. The sword! The killing!”

He spoke with such intensity that Tiarra stared at him.

“They’ll not be slowed by drink the next time. And they’ve already been a terror on the roads. We know that. They will either kill people in this town, or we will have to kill some of them, unless we have more men to patrol these streets. But right now, the only men I know who would do that are in Onath. I will send you to ask for men, so long as we leave the Triletts well guarded there. But you can’t go alone. They’ll be watching. Burle is a killer true. He won’t hesitate if his own blood’s not at stake.”

Lorne was looking down at the ground, listening. “You would find Lucas, then, to send with me?”

“I would indeed, if I knew where to look for him. I pray God that he crosses our path.” Tahn sighed. “I will have to go to Marc Toddin. He promised me his friendship, and he lives near this town. Perhaps he would help us by going with you.”

“But we would be leaving you here alone, Tahn.”

He didn’t answer. He was quiet for a moment before turning to Tiarra. “I will see that you don’t lack. Please don’t go to market or anywhere else alone yet. If you are seen by them, it will not be well.”

“Your friend can’t stay here,” she protested again.

“He would be of help to you if they come while I am gone. And they will try. I’m sorry, my sister. But Burle has never cared for me. If he can better me in any fashion, it will make him proud. And I could not bear it to be at your expense.”

She hung her head, knowing he was right. She hadn’t been safe from them before. And it was certainly no better now. But here he was, trying to save her. It made her think of how he had wept at Martica’s words, and something shook inside her. “Sir,” she said with voice barely audible, “your friend is at St. Thomas’s.”

He stood stunned by her words. Lucas had loved that grand old church when he was a street orphan, before ever he’d been snatched up by Samis and forced to the sword. It made Tahn happy to think he was back there. “Thank you, Lord,” he whispered. “And thank you for telling me, sister.”

9

S
t. Thomas’s was one of the grandest churches in the land. Every noble house claimed a different church for its own, and Baron Trent and his family claimed this one. Tahn wondered if they cherished it as much as the House of Trilett did Our Holy Redeemer in Onath.

Stepping through the beautiful doors in the light of morning made him think of Netta and how she loved going to Sunday worship. She’d been so happy the day he finally decided to join them there.

This church was huge inside. He saw no one and didn’t hear a sound. There was a gold crucifix at the front that stood several feet taller than he did. He stepped forward and knelt to thank the Lord for his abiding mercy and for the discovery of a sister. But he heard the hushed sound of movement to his right and turned immediately, not willing to let his guard down completely, even in a church.

There was a priest, an extremely short man, at the edge of the room. He just looked at Tahn for a moment and then began to turn away. “Continue with your prayers, stranger,” he said. “Don’t let me disturb you. God’s house is open for this.”

“I am finished,” Tahn told him. “And I need your help. I’m looking for a man named Lucas Corsat, and I was told I might find him here.”

The priest frowned. “Why do you seek him?”

“He’s an old friend. I would like to rejoice with him that he has come again to God. But I must also tell him that there are men who seek his hurt.”

“The bandits?”

“Yes, sir. They have threatened his life.”