Return to Alastair (27 page)

“We will go to the church,” Lucas repeated.

It took little time to explain the matter to Marc Toddin when he and the boy returned. Toddin didn’t like the soldier’s presence, nor the idea of returning to the church, but his brother’s home was much farther, on the outskirts of the city, and now there could be two bands watching for them. There seemed little choice.

“How did the bandits fare?” Lucas asked him.

“Many of them got away, but some are fallen. Two or three were captured. They will tell the baron’s captain what they were about. And they may yet join forces.”

“Yes,” Lucas answered. “But God is for us.”

“Words of faith.” Toddin sighed. “Considering our circumstance.”

“We can be thankful for the quick thinking of the priest and the street boy.”

“What we need now are quick horses under Benn Trilett’s men.”

“However swift the horses,” Lucas told him with a shake of his head, “we’ll have to survive the rest of this night without them.”

19

N
etta sat beneath the canopy of her bed, unable to rest. She had watched her father leave with Lorne and the other men. She had tried to tell herself that he was right and she must be content to obey him and stay in Onath. But her heart warred with her about it. She couldn’t sleep. To her own surprise, she found herself longing to defy her father.

The more she thought of it, the more she ached for Tahn in Alastair, alone except for the tracker he didn’t know well and the sister who apparently despised him. Perhaps that strange man, Lucas, had been found. But she wondered what help he would be. A year ago in Onath, he had seemed far less than reliable. How could he be counted on, even if he was sworn now to Alastair’s church?

She prayed about the bandits’ threats, knowing that Lorne took them very seriously, and they were certainly not made idly. But Tahn knew how to deal with such sorts. Alastair’s gruesome accusations bothered her far more. How could they think he would take part in murdering his own mother?

The threat of the baron crossed her mind repeatedly, but the thought of it, rather than discouraging her from the place, only drew her all the more. She had to get to Alastair. She had to. She didn’t know how. She only knew that Tahn needed her.

He would probably deny it. He’d probably not understand what she was feeling because she wasn’t even sure she understood it herself. But the danger for Tahn somehow encompassed more than bandits, the baron, and Alastair’s ill will. He himself drew her, as if his spirit were calling out.

“Father,” she whispered, “you cannot expect me to stop the ears of my heart.”

She cried alone in her chamber, until the weight of her feelings became too much to bear. With her heart pounding, she jumped from her bed and raced through the doorway and down the curving stairs. What could she do? She could not expect Jarel or anyone else to understand. But she had to have a horse. And she must tell someone of her plan, lest her family panic at her absence. It would be best, as well, to have someone with her, if that were possible.

Tobas
, she immediately thought. Father Anolle’s friend. Surely he would help.

She thought she might leave Jarel a note, take a horse, and hurry into Onath to find Tobas. Surely he would go with her. And they need tell no one else. She threw a cloak over her shoulders and hurried toward the door, but someone suddenly grabbed her arm.

“What are you doing?”

She whirled about to find her cousin gazing at her in surprise. Why had she not seen him? She had not even noticed the oil lamp in the corner, bathing the room in its glow. “Jarel! Could you not sleep?”

“No. And apparently I’m not the only one, but it’s an odd time for a walk, Netta. Or have you something else in mind?”

Tears betrayed her, and she hated that she couldn’t stop them.

“Please don’t worry,” Jarel told her softly. “I’m sure they’ll all be all right.” He tried to put his arm around her, but she pulled away.

“I can’t stay here, Jarel!” she burst out. “I can’t! Father was wrong. Tahn needs me.”

“You’re not talking sense,” he said immediately. “You know he wouldn’t want you there. It’s far too dangerous.”

“Is it? For me? Or only for him? And how can I do nothing?”

“Our men are on their way.”

“Yes,” she stammered. “I’m glad of that, but—”

“They would appreciate your prayers. That is all they need from us.”

“I have prayed, Jarel. I will pray more. But that is not all. I have to go to him.”

“No. Think about this. There’s nothing you could do there.”

“I
have
thought about it. I can reach no other conclusion! And you can’t stop me.”

“I can,” he said firmly. “Your father left me in charge.”

“Of our home!” she cried in frustration. “Not of me! You can’t stop me! You won’t! Send a man for Tobas, or I will go to him myself. I am sure he would go with me.”

Jarel tried to reach for her hand. “Sit down, cousin. Tell me what’s gotten you in such a panic. Don’t you realize what you’re saying? What would you do when you got there? You don’t even know where to find him.”

Netta didn’t sit. She stared at her cousin, knowing the sense he thought he was making. She must look very foolish to him. Panicked, as he said. “I can’t explain myself to you,” she told him more calmly. “But you know Tahn is not like anyone we know. And the love we have could only have been wrought by God himself.”

“Yes. But he would want you thinking sensibly about this.”

“I know. He would agree with you. And with Father. That’s like him, not to want me in harm’s way. But this is different. I can’t explain it. I tried to sleep, but it was as if his spirit cried out to me and God himself would not give me rest. Perhaps he’s forgotten all the good God has given him here. I don’t know. But I have to go.”

“Maybe it’s the priest you need to talk to more than Tobas.”

“Maybe it is. But I can scarcely bear to take the time, Jarel. I have never felt such urgency.”

Jarel shook his head. “Do you know what your father would do if I let you leave here?”

“No.”

“Nor do I. And I don’t want to find out.”

“Oh, Jarel! Send Josef with me. Or Marcus. As many as you wish. But I swear you’ll not stop me. I’ll go alone if I have to. Or sneak away. Anything. But I have to go.”

Jarel stood staring at her, still shaking his head. “God have mercy, Netta. I don’t know what to think. The truth be told, I slept, but it seemed only a moment. Tahn was in my dream. He was crying like a child.”

“You see?” she pressed him. “God stirs us. There is more we must do.”

“Please, Jarel. Help me go to him.”

He said nothing for a moment, only stared down at his slippered feet on the woven rug.

“I’m not saying I understand,” she pleaded. “I only feel that if I don’t go, I’ll lose him. And I can’t bear that.”

“But if anything happened to you—”

Jarel didn’t finish. There was a noise. Someone stirring outside. Jarel moved toward the door. “Who is there?”

“Master Jarel? It is I.”

They both knew the voice of their trusted guardsman and friend, Josef. Jarel stared at Netta for a moment and then opened the door to him.

“So sorry to disturb you,” Josef said. “I was only bedding down a guest on the porch for the remainder of the night.”

“Guest? On the porch?”

Tobas, the priest’s friend, stepped forward from the darkness behind him. “Forgive me the intrusion,” he said quickly. “I told him not to rouse you. The porch is fine till morning. It was troubling me about Benn and Tahn both being gone. I know you have men enough, but I just felt I should be here in case you might need something.”

“Yes—” Netta began.

“No,” Jarel said immediately. “No, Netta. Don’t seize this—”

“Jarel, please! What could this be but God speaking to you and leading Tobas?”

“Heaven help us.”

“Yes,” Netta affirmed, feeling a newfound strength. “If God be for us, who can be against us? The gates of hell shall not prevail—”

But Jarel was shaking his head. “After the baron’s rampage, there are three of us left, cousin. Three! And Benn is already on his way to the devil’s lair.”

“God is there, just as much as God is here.”

“Then God is with Tahn,” he insisted. “And you don’t have to go.”

“But what if it is God who drives me to him?”

“What if it isn’t?”

Netta was quiet for a moment. But the words welled up in her, and she would not be stopped. “I will not wait here and ignore my heart. I can’t set aside the strongest urging I have ever felt. Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil—”

“Enough! Maybe you’re right and I can’t stop you. But I can’t agree to this. Maybe you can ignore your father’s wishes, but I can’t.”

“I’ll tell him, Jarel. When the time comes, I’ll tell him you tried to stop me.”

“Precious little good it’s doing.”

“I’ll be careful.”

“If it came to a choice, Netta, I’d rather see you in mourning than lose you altogether.”

“Will you lock me in my room then?” she asked him. “And post a guard at my door and window? Because that’s what it will take. You’ll not change my mind. This presses upon me, do you understand that? I understand every caution you give me, but I still have to do this.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. God knows. By his grace I’ll find out.”

Jarel did not even answer her. He turned away, staring at the wall where portraits of their ancestors hung. Tobas and the guard stood in silence, unwilling to interfere. Finally, after long, quiet moments, Jarel shook his head again. “I can’t lock you in your room, Netta. God help me, maybe I should.”

She said nothing, only stepped forward and took his hand, her eyes filling with tears. Jarel looked long at her and then turned his face away, but not before she could see that he had tears of his own. “I would think you were crazy,” he told her, “if he didn’t love you every bit as much. I’ve seen it in his eyes, Netta. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for your sake.”

He breathed a heavy sigh and turned toward the doorway, where the men still waited. “Tobas, Josef—it grieves me. My cousin may make foolish choices. Terribly foolish choices. But she’s a free woman, and I can’t say otherwise.”

“Yes, sir,” Josef answered him.

“Whatever she does, don’t let her out of your sight.”

20

A
strange sensation of movement stirred Tahn toward wakefulness. Where was he now? He could hear the creak of wooden wheels and a low murmur of voices. Everything was dark. He was so weak, and the awful thirst was difficult to bear. He could remember being this way before, only a year ago. Why was it happening again?

A rope was waiting. The baron’s twisted justice. He could feel the chains at his wrists and hear the taunting of the crowd. But couldn’t they see his weakness? What good was hurling stones at a man barely able to turn enough to look at them? The heavy, creaking cage-wagon hit a bump, and Tahn moaned. He thought he heard someone say his name. But there were soldiers on every side.
There is nothing but death for me now,
he thought
. Lord, receive me.

He licked at his dry lips and thought of the river of God Lucas had once told him about. What a relief it would be. Of the thirst, and of every remnant of pain.

God, I give myself to you. Please. Take my hand.

Someone touched him, and the hand was strangely cool and warm at the same time. He realized that he was shivering. He tried to see who it was with him, but there was nothing but fog before his eyes. And the voices of the crowd filled his ears.

“Hang him! Hang the killer of Triletts! He is not worthy of life!”

A shock of cool wetness suddenly washed across his brow. The strange hand was bathing his face and now lifting his head and touching the blessed water to his lips. Who? An angel? It could be no less. Chained in this wagon, no friend could reach him. And heaven help them if they tried.

“Tahn? We’re almost there.”

The voice was strange. He could not place it in his mind. But he was afraid, and he couldn’t quite understand. Someone should not be here. Someone was placing herself at risk, just being close to him. “No,” he tried to warn whoever it was. “Please. Go.”

Looking upward through the fog, he thought he saw the tall spires of a church.
It’s too late,
in his mind he was telling her.
It’s too late. Save yourself.

The wagon slowed to a stop, but no one loosed the chains. He could feel himself being lifted, carried like a child. The movement hurt him, hurt terribly, but he couldn’t cry out. Helpless, he could do nothing but sink in the arms of whoever held him and trust his fate in the hands of God.

“He’s not conscious, is he?” Lucas asked, the knowing already like bitter gall in his stomach.

“No,” Marc Toddin told him. “But at least he can’t argue getting a healer this time.”

Lucas nodded. It didn’t seem to be a time for more words. Except in prayer. He knew Marc still doubted that the priest would help them. He knew there was as much danger for Tahn now from this sickness as there was from the baron or the bandits. But God had allowed them to get here without being seen. They’d all known it was a risk, taking the neighbor’s cart and moving Tahn openly through the streets. But God worked small miracles on their behalf. The fog. And the wonderful confusion that had pitted soldiers and bandits temporarily against one another.