Return to Alastair (17 page)

Tahn felt an old tension stirring in him. “Who wanted us dead?”

“You don’t know who you are, do you, boy? Those burns took from your mind what you had before?”

“Tell me.”

“I think it pleased Sanlin, to have a son to train. But he was a devil. He was supposed to kill all three of you. But the baron knew he would keep you at his side instead of cutting your throat the way he should have. That’s why he told the town not to let you escape. You weren’t supposed to survive.”

Her words felt strange, as though cold hands were twisting him inside. “Why would the baron wish us dead? And how could my father be expected to accomplish it?”

“He was paid well enough. And money mattered to him. He was in the baron’s employ for years. The old master would have such bad sorts in secret, you know, to accomplish his ends.”

“You call him master? You were the baron’s servant?”

“Of sorts. He paid me.”

“For what?” Tahn could scarcely breathe for the shock of this tale.

“I used to paint for him. But he also paid me for telling him that Karra had come to Alastair. I kept her here so he could find her easily. She trusted me—”

The woman suddenly seemed to choke on the words. With increased effort, she continued. “I know, you would think I should suffer for such a thing. But . . . but I didn’t know then what would happen. It seemed fair enough for him to be seeking his kin.”

“Baron Trent’s kin? My mother?”

Martica coughed. “Yes. And . . . that’s why she died. I—I didn’t know what was in the baron’s heart until it was too late. A wonder he let your sister live. But more, you! A male! Karra knew that would be trouble. The day before she died, she . . . she told me about hiding among the common people, trying to keep you a secret from the baron. But Sanlin betrayed her, letting people know he had a son.”

She coughed, and Tahn struggled to comprehend the things she was saying. “Did he truly kill her?”

“I believe it. But he wouldn’t kill you. He was too proud, boy. He took you from your mother to ride about with him. It grieved her. But I didn’t know the baron’s plan! I thought it was only Sanlin to trouble her!”

Martica drew a difficult breath and then continued with considerable effort. “The baron was cunning. To silence Sanlin. A wonder he forgot you children these years. But you didn’t know what you were to him.”

Tahn could only stare. The words came hard. “What are we to him?”

“Kin. Didn’t you hear me?”

“What kind of kin?”

“The baron was your mother’s brother. Not full. She . . . she was illegitimate. But the House of Trent acknowledged her. Lionell . . . he is your cousin.” She coughed. “No more questions. Do you hear me? I am such a fool.”

Tahn looked down at the floor. “I thank you. For talking to me.” It was much to fathom. The late Baron Trent. The treacherous noble who had tried to destroy Netta and her family apparently
hadn’t
forgotten Tahn Dorn. A year ago, the baron had been determined to kill him, even paying Samis well for the privilege. But why did he wait so many years? Why want to kill them at all?

Martica rolled over and gasped, and for a moment Tahn thought the worst.
Not now,
he prayed.
She should not die now! I need to learn more. She should pray. And my sister needs to be here!

But Martica still breathed.

“Ma’am—” Tahn began to speak.

“I have said enough.”

“But does . . . does my sister know these things?”

“She thinks you . . . chose your father’s life.” Martica sighed. Her voice was growing weaker. “I didn’t want her pulled to that evil world. Nor to the baron. Karra told me of his evil too late. I wish I’d known . . .”

It was hard for Tahn to picture any of this. His mother, with a tie to the Trents and in hiding. How had she met Sanlin Dorn? Had there been any love between them?

Martica called the old baron his uncle. But she’d also said it was an uncle who carried him off so long ago. Was Samis his uncle too? How could it be? They were the worst men he’d ever known, the vilest enemies he could have imagined facing. What would Benn Trilett think if it were true? What would Netta think?

“You still have water?” Martica asked.

“Yes. Yes, let me help you.” He leaned forward and held the skin for her, carefully supporting her head.

“You were right,” she whispered. “It’s cleansing, finally to talk. Tell Tiarra I’m sorry. I only meant to protect her. It was all I could do . . .” She fell back weakly.

“Pray to God, lady.”

“Do you know what I did to you?”

“You pointed me out to the crowd.” He swallowed hard.

“Was I guilty?”

“I—I thought you might be. You always copied your father. But I was afraid. I couldn’t take you in my house—they might kill the baby, even me. And there was no hope for you. You were the son. I thought if you died, it would be over. Perhaps he’d leave Karra’s daughter alone. You could kill me, boy, for your burns . . .”

“No.”

“They left me the baby. They left her alone. I don’t know why.”

“God wanted her alive.”

“I—I hope God forgives me. I’ve done miserably.” She closed her eyes. “It’s so cold tonight.” Her breath was suddenly shallow.

Tahn’s heart sunk.
Tiarra, where are you?

“I want to tell your sister good-bye.”

“Pray, lady. Please.”

“I should. And you’re . . . you’re Karra’s son. You can help me.”

He prayed. But the old woman only nodded her assent and said no more. She lay very still, and her breaths grew weaker. When he left her, Tahn knew she was unconscious. But he took her water pail to fill it for her anyway, in the hope that she would live long enough to need it, and to see Tiarra face to face one last time.

When he rejoined Marc Toddin, it was with a heavy heart. He could find no words to express his burden. Where had Tiarra gone that could be so important? What would be for her now? Would she be able to hear him if Martica could not tell her the truth? And what of the Trents? What might this mean to the new baron, Lionell?

13

L
ionell impatiently watched Captain Saud enter his private chamber followed immediately by Korin, the quiet, graying guard who took care of training most of the younger men. They had been his father’s most trusted guards.

He could see on their faces the uncertainty of being summoned. But Saud, the capable and arrogant leader, stood straight before him as always and gave him barely the courtesy of a nod.

“What is the matter with you?” Lionell demanded. “I am your head. How dare you keep vital secrets from me! You must have known what my father knew!”

“What, my lord?” Korin asked, looking stricken.

“My wealth is at stake! My power is at stake! I should have you both killed! Why was I not told that Karra Loble had a son!”

“Ah, yes,” Captain Saud answered slowly. “The Dorn.”

Lionell fumed. How could the captain so coolly admit to this knowledge? He was about to burst out with a stream of curses when Saud interrupted him.

“You were not told, my lord, because your father didn’t want you worrying yourself or trying to handle things on your own.”

“Father was a fool!” Lionell lamented. “But more than that, he is dead now. Why didn’t you come to me?”

Korin cleared his throat. “My lord, sir—your mother pledged us to the secret.”

“Who? Just the two of you?”

“Yes,” Korin continued with obvious discomfort. “Because . . . because we were the ones charged to help your father with the problem before.”

“Well.” Lionell stared long at him. “You failed miserably. When did my mother acquire your pledge?”

“Last year. When your father died.”

Lionell scowled. “Didn’t it occur to you that with my father gone I had become the baron in his place? Why are you heeding my mother?”

“For your own sake she insisted, my lord,” Korin answered. “She was afraid you would do something rash and Benn Trilett would rally the other nobles against you. She was afraid you would get yourself killed.”

“This is not my mother’s business. And Tahn Dorn is no Trilett. Why should Benn Trilett care?”

“He claims the dog,” Saud answered abruptly. “He’s made the Dorn captain of his gate.”

Lionell turned to face him. “How can you let a woman rule you, Saud? I know it would be your pleasure to kill him.”

“I don’t let her rule me,” Saud replied sourly. “But there’s a time for such things, and it’s not been yet. Not while Dorn is under Trilett watchcare.”

“And when did you think to tell me of this?”

Saud met Lionell’s eyes without wavering. “In time, sir. The matter has required patience and secrecy.”

“Yes! Of course! But I am your baron, fool! You do not keep secrets from me. Mother be hanged! You do my bidding.” Saud smiled. “And what would you bid us do?”

“I want Tahn Dorn dead! As soon as possible, no more delay. How could Father have waited all these years? What was he thinking? He even knew where Dorn was. Why did he not send men to see the matter finished years ago?”

Saud gave an audible sigh. “He would have liked nothing better. But you forget whose care Dorn was in. Imagine if Samis had discovered what he had. That devil would have destroyed the House of Trent and taken everything to himself in the name of the Dorn! Far better that your father keep Samis ignorantly employed and await his chance.”

“But he blundered! You all blundered! Don’t you realize that?” Lionell fumed. “Dorn lives. He has returned to Alastair, and he is bound to learn things. This is serious!”

“He is in Alastair?” Saud brightened. “The best of news. He’ll not reach Onath again alive.”

“I don’t want him leaving Alastair! Do you hear me? Or anyone else who knows of this! Do you understand?”

Korin suddenly coughed. “Sir—”

“What is it?” Lionell snapped in his direction.

Korin swallowed down a heavy breath. “Alastair doesn’t know for certain the boy was Karra’s son. They don’t know truly who she was, my lord. And none of the nobles know she bore children at all—”

“Children? There are others?”

“A daughter, sir,” Saud said abruptly. “She was a baby. Left in the care of an old woman in Alastair.”

Korin frowned. And Lionell groaned. “Why was she left in Alastair?”

“It is a girl, sir.” Saud shrugged. “No threat at present. And the old woman knows to keep quiet. ”

“Not she only,” Korin said quickly. “The townspeople won’t speak of what happened. Those who know your father’s part are loyal. They’ll tell Dorn nothing. You needn’t worry for these things—”

“I am not fool enough to stake my future on your opinion,” Lionell said sharply. “I must have Dorn’s dead body. And I want the girl before she has a chance to bear some peasant scoundrel any sons.”

“You will have your desire,” Saud told him with a callous smile. “Do you want the girl here?”

“Father had such foolish taste for the cousins!” Lionell scoffed. “But I have girls enough! She’s too dangerous. Kill them all.”

“Yes, sir.” Saud bowed and turned for the doorway.

“Take all the men you need and go at once,” Lionell told him.

“Indeed, sir.”

Korin shuffled from one foot to the other. “My lord, sir—”

“What is it?” Lionell barked in his direction. “You want to go, is that it? To take your part finishing what you should have accomplished years ago?”

For a moment Korin stood in silence. He seemed paler than the other man. Finally the aging guard replied, “Yes, sir. I would go.”

“Very well. Be gone! And don’t return to me until the job is done.”

As he left Lionell’s chamber behind him, Saud relished the idea of what lay ahead. Tahn was a hateful annoyance, a continual thorn. It would be a pleasure to kill the arrogant fool.

The old baron in his grave would be pleased to finally have this unfinished business taken care of. Of course, Lionell’s mother would not be so pleased. But that was only a woman’s fears. Nothing that need get in the way.

Saud wondered why Tahn would dare return to Alastair. But it did not really matter. The Triletts would never know what truly happened. Alastair was the perfect place for the Dorn to die. No one could be surprised if that town were to slay him with a silent vengeance impossible to track down.