Return to Alastair (16 page)

“Please tell me her message.”

“But you’re the one she said would be worse—aren’t you?”

He sighed. “I don’t know what she said. But I need to know she’s safe. Please tell her of my concern.”

Rae looked at him with wonder. “She’s safe. That’s what she said to tell the other man. She’ll be back tomorrow. That’s the message.”

“Thank you. Tell her thank you.”

Rae wrinkled her little brow. “Why are you here? You’re strange. You’re scary and people don’t like you, but you don’t seem so mean up close.”

Marc Toddin folded his arms but said nothing. And Tahn smiled. “Come and sit for a moment. Tell your friends to come too.”

She looked at him with surprise. “You know I had friends with me?”

“They’re still with you.” He pointed. “Two of them. Right over there.”

She couldn’t even see them from here. So how did he know? Had they been that loud?

“Jori! Ansley! Come here!”

The two boys came out of hiding.

“We didn’t mean no harm,” Jori said right away. “We just wanted to help Miss Ti get alone for a while.”

Tahn nodded slowly. “So you helped her trick Lorne, didn’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I had thought it would take more than one bright mind to distract him.”

“He didn’t tell on us?” Ansley asked in amazement.

“No. He didn’t.” He turned his eyes to the little girl.

“You’re friends of Miss Loble. So I want to tell you why I’m here. Sit down.”

All three children obeyed, and little Jori took Rae’s hand timidly.

“Do any of you have family?”

They shook their heads.

“I didn’t think I did either. I came to find out for sure. And I learned Miss Loble is my sister. We just met. It isn’t easy for her, and I understand that. I would go and leave her alone except that there are a lot of men, bandits, who tried to hurt her, and I think they will try again. I don’t want them to find her, and I need your help. Are you willing?”

“What would we have to do?” Ansley questioned.

“Watch her. If you know where to find her, just keep your eyes open all around. You don’t have to tell me where she is. She has a right to her own life. But watch for young men traveling together, three or any number more. If you see armed men with horses, tell her right away, and then one of you come and tell me.”

“Would they kill her?” the bigger boy asked.

“I think they might.”

“Why?”

“They didn’t want her to escape them. They’d try to prove their mettle by not letting her. There’s not much sense in it, boy. She’s done nothing to them.”

“She wouldn’t want us spying for you.”

“You’re not. You’re looking out for your friend. If you have other friends, tell them. If any of you see the men come into town, come and tell me.”

“Can we ask her about this?”

“Yes. That would be fine.”

Ansley looked at him with skepticism. “You’re strange.”

“That’s what your friend said.”

“Are you the one folks talk about, then?”

“That’s possible.”

“But you kill people.”

He looked down at his boots for a moment. “I have. I won’t lie to you. But that was a different time, and God has set me free. I will do what I must to protect my sister, but I pray not to kill again. It is a terrible, terrible thing.”

“Was you one who disappeared?”

Tahn looked at the boy. He seemed about twelve or thirteen, and he’d obviously heard about the days when street boys simply vanished, only to turn up later bearing arms.

“Yes.”

“Oh! What was it like?”

“Terrible. No matter what you’ve got, boy, you’re far better off.”

“I got nothing.”

“But you’re well blessed.”

He looked puzzled. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s all right. Have you eaten today?”

“Yes,” the boy said. “Because of your friend.”

Tahn smiled. That would be Lorne, all right. “Good. And don’t be hungry tomorrow. I’ll not turn you away.”

Rae was stunned. “You’d feed us? Why?”

“I trust you’ll help me. And everyone, no matter who they are, has a right to eat regardless.”

“He sounds like Miss Ti,” Jori whispered.

“He oughta,” Rae answered. “He’s family.”

“Thank you,” Tahn told her quietly. It was a good thing to hear.

After the children were gone and the night had progressed over them, Tahn lay listening to Martica’s pained cough. It only worsened, leaving her gasping for breath. She didn’t call for anyone. In Tiarra’s absence, she couldn’t. But it didn’t seem right that she should be struggling alone. Slowly, he rose to his feet.

Toddin was sitting up. “Need help with anything?”

Tahn nodded. “Please pray. The old woman hates me, but I’m going inside.”

He took up his skin of water and asked the Lord for wisdom. She would not be pleased to see him. She would throw him out if she had the strength. Still, he felt compelled to offer a gesture of kindness.

As he entered, Martica lay curled beneath a ragged blanket. He knelt beside her with water, but she tried to push him away.

“Please,” he said. “Drink. It will help.”

She was thirsty, and she knew he was right. Just a sip might ease the awful dryness of her cough a bit. It angered her that he would just walk in this way, though her pail of water was emptied and she hadn’t the strength to fill it. But he was determined. So with shaking hands, she made an effort as he lifted her head and shoulders.

“Go away,” she said when she was able. “Leave me alone.”

“I wanted to thank you first,” he began. “For raising my sister. I’m grateful that you opened your home for her.”

She looked at him with suspicion. “You’ve no right—” she began to say but started coughing again before she could finish.

He lifted her head and held it, giving her drink again. Then he noticed a bottle sitting in the corner next to a folded garment. “You have medicine?”

“Not much left.”

“Should you be taking it?”

“No. I don’t want it anymore.”

“Does it help?”

She shook her head. “I said I don’t want it! Leave me alone!”

“Let me get the bedding I saw in the other room first, ma’am. I can prop you up a bit with it, and the breaths should come easier.” He rose without waiting for an answer and was back almost immediately with Tiarra’s meager bedding.

“What have you done with my girl?” she asked.

“I wish she were here as much as you do,” Tahn told her.

“I wish I knew where she is, but I don’t.”

“She’s run off scared from you!”

“I don’t think so. But she’ll be back for your sake, and I hope soon.”

“Before I die, you mean,” Martica answered bitterly.

“Bluntly put.” He arranged the bedding carefully and lowered Martica onto it. Her breaths did come easier, but they were still labored. “Do you know the Lord, ma’am?” he asked with quiet voice.

She scowled at him. “Did your father teach you to make use of religious talk, boy?”

“You know there wasn’t time for that.”

She drew in a breath and stared at him fearfully. Of course she did know. And he must know about her lies. Almost she could expect him to smother her where she lay. It would be an easy enough retribution. But of course it was unnecessary. It would not be long for her now anyway. And instead of Tiarra at her side, here was Tahn Dorn! She shook her head.
Surely I deserve this,
she told herself.
God, what a way you have in your judgment!

But he spoke again in a soft tone. “Will you allow me to pray for you?”

She started shaking. She couldn’t help it. Was he serious? Almost she yelled at him to leave her, but she saw the sadness in his face, the concern in his eyes. “I went to church often when I was about your age,” she told him. “But God is not smiling on me anymore.”

“That can change in a moment, if you truly give him your heart.”

“But you’re a Dorn,” she said suddenly.

“What does that mean? Please tell me.”

“That you’re a liar, a swindler—” She coughed again. “A cutthroat.”

“Was my father those things?”

“Yes. You can’t be preaching at me!”

“I love God’s mercy, ma’am. It would please me to see it thrive in you.”

“You’ve a smooth tongue on you, just like him.”

He sighed. “Don’t let your opinion of me stop you from being assured of God’s peace. It wouldn’t be worth the cost.”

She stared at him, knowing in her heart that he was sincere. “Who taught you his mercy?”

“The first was Netta Trilett.”

She was puzzled. How could such a one be willing to hear and accept the walk of Christ? Wasn’t he raised to be a terror? “What of your uncle?” she asked. “What did he teach you?”

He looked surprised. “I know nothing of an uncle.”

Martica coughed once, then shook her head, unwilling to believe him. “That’s not what the baron’s man said.”

“Baron’s man?” He sat beside her, and his intense eyes seemed to look into her soul.

But she turned away, shocked by her own indiscretion. How could she have told him that? It just came out, before she could think.

“Please tell me what you can, ma’am. What had the baron or his men to do with me?”

“Curse you, Tahn Dorn!” she suddenly exclaimed. “You get words out of me that I shouldn’t speak!”

“Your heart would stop your tongue if that were so.”

She couldn’t meet his gaze. He was right, and it pained her. Her heart would be willing to break loose with the truth and be clear of it, as he’d said! But it was not that easy. “No,” she told herself more than him. “You have no right to speak to me that way. You can’t judge my heart. And I owe you nothing.”

He nodded. “I would like to know at least what my mother was like. Please consider that.”

“First you tell me what you intend for Tiarra.”

“I’m concerned for her poverty,” he said. “I want to help, but I’ll do nothing beyond her will. I fear trouble with the bandits again. That’s why I stay. To protect her.”

“You say it. But you were one of those mercenaries. They’re your friends.”

“We were cast in together. But never truly friends.”

Martica scoffed. “Then you admit you took up with your uncle’s devilish trade! Did he teach you religious words along with the sword? And deception! Surely after he carried you off, he told you all about your father. But you pretend you don’t know.”

“It was Samis who carried me off,” he protested. “The mercenary leader. He told me nothing of my family, lady. My first days with him are a fog.” He was quiet for a moment before continuing more slowly. “I knew nothing but the pain, and then his harsh words. He told me what he wanted me to hear and destroyed everything else I had. I don’t know of an uncle. I have little memory that survived that time. That’s why I need your help. I was too young and confused to know clearly on my own, lady, you know that.”

There it was again. Almost an accusation.
You’ve lied, old woman!
But he had no malice in it. “You’re a puzzle,” she said and coughed again.

“Help me to sort it out, then. Tell me about my parents, and—”

“No.” She lay coughing, and he sighed in frustration. He offered her more water, but she shook her head. “You pray, do you?” she asked coolly.

“Yes.”

“Are you going to marry that Trilett lady of yours?”

He lowered his head. “The future is God’s. I can’t tell it.”

“Your mother would have liked God in your speech. But your father would have loved the nearness to wealth. You’re clever like him, aren’t you?”

“I haven’t planned my life. Not a piece of it.”

Martica looked long at him and sighed. “Not even coming in here to sway my opinion?”

“Not even that. But I would like you to consider a prayer. God is the help in such times.”

She coughed. “Are you telling me I’m dying?”

“You need no one to tell you.”

Almost she smiled through her weakness. “In that you speak the truth, you beast.” The coughing suddenly had worse hold of her again, and it took several moments for her to catch her breath. “I’m near dead already,” she said when she could finally speak. “Tiarra knows it. And she cares little anymore. But I do wish to tell her good-bye.”

“I expect that she cares more than you think. And God may grant you that wish if you ask him.”

“You are persistent.”

“It’s important.”

She coughed again and then squinted at him, her eyes looking gray and sunken. “Why don’t you hate me?”

“For what?” Tahn asked. “Helping my sister survive? Or mourning my mother so?”

Abruptly, she turned her head. “Curse you! Why must you make it so hard to despise you? Devil son of Sanlin Dorn, the betrayer of my dear lady! You’re supposed to be a villain. More truly, you’re supposed to be dead. Years ago! But you can’t make it easy for anyone, can you?”

He swallowed hard. “Tell me what you’re talking about while you’ve time.”

Martica’s gaze was distant. She was thinking deeply, considering the path she’d chosen. “Tiarra doesn’t even know,” she began. “She would hate me for it.” She coughed and then took a deep breath. “Your mother wanted her among the common people, bless her. But your father’s way was too perilous. All the family he knew were bandits, scoundrels like himself. And Karra had quickly learned the way of nobility to be just as bad. She would have wanted me to be more careful for her daughter’s religion. She would have wanted us to leave Alastair for a town where the church could be trusted, but I have nowhere else! What was I to do? Everyone expected the girl to die back then. And it might have been better if she had!”