Return to Alastair (22 page)

“Ah, friends from the House of Trent,” the short priest was saying. “Do you seek prayers? Or a meal, perhaps, in your journeying?”

“No,” Saud said quickly. “We are come for information. Do you know of a man named Tahn Dorn arriving in the city?”

Father Bray looked long at him and then turned his eyes to Korin. Slowly he nodded his head and ushered them inside.

“It is important that we find the stranger,” Saud told the priest. “But the baron asks that his business not be told about.”

“I’ll publish nothing without his leave,” the priest said. “But why does he seek the Dorn?” His eyes were on Korin, and the old soldier shifted uncomfortably.

“We have a message for him,” Saud said quickly. “Do you know his whereabouts? Or that of his sister, the girl called Tiarra Loble?”

The priest shook his head. “What message requires so many men, and at night?”

“Only a precaution. Dorn can be dangerous. And there are bandits about. Do you know where he is or not?”

Father Bray sighed. What was he to do? He looked again at Korin, surprised to find him in Captain Saud’s company. Korin had confessed so much to him, and because of that the priest knew the kind of man Saud was. And he knew that any message from the Trents would be one of death for Tahn Dorn. It was a decree unfulfilled, after so many years.

“I am not sure where they are,” Bray said carefully, thinking of Korin. He knew how this matter had long burdened the old soldier, had driven him to repentance time and again. And now, it seemed, the soldiers had been sent again to seek a conclusion. “The old woman died today,” he told them. “Tiarra Loble was in the churchyard in mourning for the burial. Her brother was not with her. And when she left here, I do not know which direction she went.”

“Then you’re little help,” Saud growled. “Can you tell us anything about the Dorn?”

Bray thought of the things he’d seen this morning, the poor man’s back whipped raw. But he could not tell them that. He had no stomach to see Saud’s glee at knowing his opponent was so weakened. Better that he make them think the Dorn was strong. “Perhaps it is good that you brought men,” he said. “Truly there are bandits. And they know the Dorn. Did you realize that?”

Korin looked at him in surprise.

“What are you telling us?” Saud demanded. “Would he ride again with the men of Samis?”

For a moment, Father Bray could not answer. He thought of the solemn man who had risen from prayer and talked with him here in the church not so long ago. Tahn Dorn had held no malice, only concern for his friend. It seemed wrong to misrepresent him. But he had Lucas’s life to think about as well. Perhaps it would be worth the deception, if he could get the soldiers to leave.

“You’ll not be able to deliver the baron’s message without his business being known,” he told the men. “You are sure to encounter any number of bandits if you seek the Dorn. If the baron values his secrecy, perhaps it would be better for you to go and tell him to seek Dorn at some other time.”

Saud bore an odd look on his face. “He has left the Triletts, hasn’t he? Their walled fortress has become too tame for him. I should have known. Has he come to claim the following Samis left behind? And Valhal itself, perhaps?”

The priest said nothing.

Saud laughed. “He’ll be prince of scoundrels, won’t he? King of thieves in Samis’s stead?”

The priest looked down uncomfortably. “There is no good fruit in continuing to seek him. You should return to your lord, perhaps—”

But Saud shook his head. “Better to storm Samis’s Valhal now and have the matter done. This is perfect! What need do we have of secrecy anymore? The Dorn is fool enough to put himself in my hands! We can kill him openly and be applauded for our war on the bandits. The baron does good service to rid the land of its scourge. Thank you, good priest. You’ve been a great help.”

Father Bray watched in dismay as the baron’s captain turned from him with a smile. He felt a sickening weight in his chest, but what could he do? The damage was done. Korin turned to look at him before following his captain, and his eyes were filled with the same sad guilt the priest had seen in them so often. “God go with you,” Bray told the man. “The will of the Lord be accomplished.”

The door closed behind them with a thud, and Father Bray felt strangely hollow.
God, what have I done?

Burle pulled himself into the saddle with an angry curse. His right arm was nearly useless, thanks to Tahn.

So the Dorn had a sister! Strange that he would care to come and see about her now, after all this time. But she was a pretty one, Burle considered. She would supply his men several good hours of pleasure before they had their fill of her and slit her throat. Would that Tahn might be easy to kill as well! Surely it would not be too difficult, so long as they could find him. Burle would be riding in full force tonight. No one, not even the Dorn, could stand in the face of nearly twenty armed bandits.

With satisfaction Burle watched his men mounting around him. Tahn was supposed to have been Samis’s successor! But of all Samis’s men, it was Burle himself who was the most powerful, to ride now with the men under him. Oh, a few had gone their own ways. A few had even gone to Tahn’s side. Lorne, the boys Marcus and Vari, and even, he supposed, Lucas after his own fashion. But half of Samis’s men rode now with him, freely, because they had chosen him their leader. And well it should be so. There was no one more able.

They rode in the dimness from their camp, leaving only the wounded behind. Except him. He would not miss this. He would watch as his men surrounded Tahn, closed in with their numbers, and finally overwhelmed him.
I will let him beg me for his life,
Burle decided.
And for his sister’s life. But I will deny him.

Lorne he might keep for a while, let him carry water, let him slave under them until they tired of the game. The miserable boy! Burle remembered the day Lorne was brought to the halls of Valhal. Resigned already to his lot, in pitiful obedience to his father, Lorne had obeyed Samis’s smallest command, despite the tears in his eyes. Oh, how he had cried at night! Pitiful slave!
I was always stronger,
Burle told himself.
I wanted the life of a soldier.

He was proud to be one of only a handful actually hired to Samis’s service. How infuriating that Tahn, the miserable wretch, had been the master’s favorite! Tahn had been scrawny and scarred, possessed by night, not even considered sane by the other men half the time. Why had Samis bothered with him? And how in the world could the Trilett family bear his presence now?

Perhaps the nobleman had given Tahn a house of his own, where he could roam the halls or thrash and scream in the darkness without disturbing anyone else. Almost Burle could envy Tahn for gaining Trilett favor. And probably Trilett money. He wondered if the Triletts would actually mourn Tahn. The young fool Vari would. Lorne would too, if they gave him a chance. If they didn’t kill him first, and make Tahn watch.

Burle and his men rode together toward Alastair, as Burle wondered where to begin his search. Tahn was a stranger in town, but one with a history people would surely remember. And his sister was no stranger here. They would not be hard to find. He could ask almost anyone. Chances are, he’d be pointed the way quickly indeed. It would be a pleasant night. And a particularly memorable victory.

16

I
n her father’s meeting room, Netta was growing more and more frustrated. Why couldn’t her father see how important this was to her? “I want to go!” she cried in protest. “You’ve agreed to allow Lorne to return, and he is wounded!”

“He knows where to find Tahn, child. He knows much about those ruffians, and he has trained with our men. I know Vari is displeased that I would not agree for him to go as well, but there is no need to endanger him, or you.”

“Vari loves Tahn, Father. And you know I do. We want to be with him.”

“There is no question that he would want you to stay home.”

“But I could be a comfort to him. Perhaps I could talk to his sister. Imagine how he must feel, faced with such an accusation! And then if he learns he is part Trent. Father, only kinship to Samis could be worse in Tahn’s eyes!”

“I know, child. And he must surely miss you as much as you miss him. But he would not want you in harm’s way. He sent for our soldiers, Netta. Our armed men. He would think I’d taken leave of my senses to allow you into the middle of a situation like this.”

“But what about you? Why would you consider going with them?”

“Because I know that if Lionell Trent should become involved, he’d not dare to break peace to my face. He will not try to harm Tahn if I am there, not unless he wants the other nobles of our land to take to arms against him. They will have no more Trent aggression against us. I have been assured of that many times over.”

“But it is still a chance to take. You know what Tahn would say! Should Lionell try to harm
you
, Father, the other nobles would not reach you in time.”

Bennamin nodded. “I know how Tahn would caution me. But in truth, Netta, I want to look on the world he sees in Alastair. I want to see the city of torments become harmless in his eyes. Perhaps you do too, but I cannot let you set foot there, not until a great change has taken place.”

“But what if Lionell or the church should object to our soldiers—”

“They may. But I will explain the necessity as best I can.” Benn smiled. “Perhaps Tahn will think me foolish. But it seems not so strange that I should go. Lionell’s wedding is to be in Alastair’s magnificent church, after all. In only a month. I could simply say that I have come to the town early to bear a gift personally. How could they fault me to stay and enjoy myself with feasting and entertainment?”

“Father—”

“I might even send messengers to others of the nobility and invite them to join me, to fill Alastair with our men and our merrymaking.”

Netta plopped in a chair, very near tears. “Then why would you not let me go with you? I wish I were there already. Imagine Tahn there tonight, perhaps believing that wicked city’s wretched tale against him. And with only Mr. Toddin to help! What if the bandits do not wait? What if they assail them tonight before anyone can get to them?”

Benn sighed. “Lorne believes they will likely try. And there is nothing we can do but begin our journey and pray God has upheld them. He would want you to pray, dear child. But that is all you can do.”

Netta did not look at her father, or even try to answer. She understood the words. She understood his caution. But she could not be satisfied.

In Tiarra’s house, Tahn leaned his shoulder against a mudded wall, willing himself to stay upright, to listen to the men before him.

“The neighbors have been aware of our doings this day,” Lucas was saying. “There is no way we can truly hide our presence here, even if we conceal your horses. I think it better to return to the church. Father Bray would receive you there, I am certain. He did not turn you out this morning.”

Tahn shook his head. “He spoke a caution to me before. Of enemies. My father’s enemies, I think he meant, and that has more to do with the baron than the bandits. Going to St. Thomas’s is like sitting on the baron’s doorstep.”

“But the priest—”

“May not be so quick to approve as you think. He does not want you with me. He especially does not want you hurt.”

“Neither the baron nor the bandits know me,” Toddin said. “It is already dark. But if we are careful, we could leave the midst of the city and wait for your men at my brother’s home, where we’ve been staying since the fire took my house.”

“I would not endanger your family, or his,” Tahn said softly. He took a long, deep breath, hating to tell the rest. “In truth, friends, I don’t think I can travel. To the church or anywhere else. Not tonight.”

Across the room, Tiarra paled to hear him speak such words. She sat in silence. Her brother and his friends virtually ignored her in their talk. But as she listened in, she hoped they were wrong about the bandits coming tonight. Maybe they would not find this little house. But she knew Tahn was not wrong about the last part. She could see how he tried to be strong, but he could not hide his pain any longer. He could not hide his weakness.

“You’re in no shape to fight, Tahn,” Marc Toddin said. “It will be no easy job to defend ourselves here with only two able men and an unarmed girl.”

Tahn glanced at his sister and closed his eyes for a moment. “Perhaps—by the grace of God—the girl and I will manage to be more able than you realize.”

“Not against so many,” Toddin continued his argument. “We can pray they don’t find us. But you know the trouble if they do. And I know the shape you’re in.”

Tahn said nothing at all to them, only leaned his head back wearily and took a deep breath.

“Please lie down,” Tiarra begged him. “You have to rest, even if you must talk about this. Let me get you my mat. Please.” She did not wait for an answer. She only hurried to bring him her woven mat and a tattered blanket. Maybe she should offer to run and get the healer. Would the man come for Tahn Dorn?