Return to Alastair (37 page)

29

T
iarra stood staring at Tahn. She felt numb. Empty. Like the whole world and everything in it was senseless.
Why, God?
she asked in her heart.
It is all so wrong
.

Almost it seemed as if none of what had happened over the last few days could be real. Perhaps she might wake up and hear Martica’s coughing in the next room. And then go to her horrid work and hear news of her brother so far away. She wiped her eyes. He should be far away. He never should have come.

Benn Trilett stepped closer to her, watching her. “I want you to know,” he said in a gentle voice, “I will not forget the promise I made him. I will see to your needs, whatever happens.”

“I don’t care about that!” she burst out at him. “Don’t you understand? I don’t care!”

Lady Netta was immediately at her side. It was strange. So strange that the Triletts would think of her feelings. But the lady was enfolding her in her arms. For a moment, Tiarra shook, almost pulling away. But then she let herself return the embrace and wept on the lady’s shoulder. Lucas and Lorne had knelt beside one another. And to Tiarra’s surprise, Bennamin Trilett knelt with them.

“He can’t die,” Tiarra whispered. “Or there is no justice under heaven.”

“Sometimes this world seems void of good,” Netta answered. “But there is justice beyond it. Of that I have no doubt.”

“That woman should burn in hell.”

“Judgment belongs to God alone,” Netta said softly. “I pray she realizes what she has done and begs God’s forgiveness.”

Tiarra had no answer. It wasn’t only the old woman for whom she felt such things. There were the bandits and Lionell Trent who were just as guilty.

Tahn moaned softly, and she and Netta both knelt close beside him.

“What if he dies?” Tiarra asked with pain in her voice.

“I can’t answer that,” Netta said. “Except that you are my sister. That will not change.”

Tiarra glanced at her but could say nothing. She pulled away the damp bedclothes and got another blanket from the bed that had been Catrin and her child’s.

“He will not die,” Netta told her as she spread the blanket carefully over Tahn. “He has too much to live for.”

Tiarra nodded, willing to reach for such a hope. She knelt again, but behind them there was a sudden soft tap at the door.

Lucas answered. He stood for a moment in the open doorway, looking at the tall soldier who stood outside.

“Please,” Emil Korin said. “Will you let me talk to the girl? I am so sorry for what has happened.”

“Why now?” Lucas asked, his voice raw with emotion. “We don’t need you here right now.”

“The priest sent me. He said Miss Tiarra might be comforted to know the truth, painful as it is. He said she should not linger in doubt of her father along with everything else.”

“We linger with hope for her brother now,” Lucas answered. “Surely it can wait.”

“Let him in,” Benn Trilett told him. “God knows our hope. But perhaps he would have us hear the matter.”

Lucas shook his head and stepped aside from the doorway. The old soldier stepped in and turned his eyes immediately to Tahn and then to Tiarra. But she turned her face away. Could she trust his words? She didn’t want to hear more lies. And if it were truth, Tahn should hear it perhaps even more than she should.

“Miss,” the soldier said, “I know it is a hard time. Would God I knew a way to help! Might I speak with you? Please?”

She closed her eyes and saw Martica in her mind. But she shook the image away angrily. Things could have been so much better if Martica had only spoken the truth. Slowly, Tiarra rose to her feet. “I will hear you,” she said. “But God curse you if you lie.”

“God curses no man,” Benn Trilett said softly. “But a lie is followed by its own curse.”

The soldier nodded. “I am tired of the lies. I’m tired of carrying the guilt for my part of what happened. I have confessed to the priest, over the years. But it is not enough. Forgive me, please.”

Tiarra stood tensely, staring at the man. Only one question filled her mind. “Who killed my mother?”

“It was the man who rode at our head last night, seeking your brother’s life. The baron’s captain. His name is Saud.”

“And you helped him?” Tiarra asked, a bitter taste rising in her mouth.

“He didn’t need help. He is strong. Ruthless, at times. The worst of my plague is that I didn’t help her. Nor your father. I raised no hand as they were slaughtered. I held the horses. I helped to spread the lie against Sanlin Dorn. He would have tried to protect her. I learned that was why they risked coming to Alastair. He was arranging travel to the sea and then passage aboard a ship. He had planned to send Karra away, and you children too, to spare your lives.”

“Then he loved her?” She could scarcely see through the mist in her eyes. Sanlin Dorn had been innocent.

“And she loved him,” Korin affirmed. “He was the son of a bandit. He’d never known another life. But the baron hired him to trouble a family that opposed him, and he met Karra one day by accident in the courtyard. It wasn’t long before she found a way to run away with him.”

Tiarra moved to a nearby stool and slowly sat. “Why was that so terrible?” she asked. “Why didn’t the baron just leave them alone?”

“Because of the baronship. He was afraid of your mother, miss. He’d kept her in the court like a prisoner. Not many people knew. But Naysius trusted Saud and me. We were his friends. He told us much.” The soldier stopped and sighed.

“Go on,” Benn prompted. “Why did he fear his sister?”

The soldier turned his eyes to the Trilett lord. “Naysius had a weakness for ladies, sir. Even those of the household. His father found him one day with the new baroness, his own stepmother. The old baron was so enraged that he disowned him and swore to give Karra the inheritance.” He lowered his head. “Naysius killed the old man that night as he slept. He claimed the baronship before the matter could be widely known.”

“But it should belong to Karra’s son,” Bennamin said slowly, turning his eyes toward Tahn.

“That is why they had to die, sir. That is why, in Lionell’s mind, they still have to die.”

“The Dorn has no interest in such position,” Lord Trilett said. “I know it of him. But I can tell Lionell that I will publish the matter to the other nobles if he ever lifts his hand again.”

Tiarra sat in silence, thinking of the things the soldier had said of her parents. Karra Loble might have seen Sanlin Dorn as a deliverer. A hope. “You watched them both die?” she asked, her heart feeling heavy.

“Yes,” he admitted again with bowed head. “And it has grieved me these many years. Forgive me.”

“Tell me more of it. Please.”

“No, miss,” the old soldier protested. “What more could you want to hear?”

“Everything,” she said, knowing he did not understand why she would ask for details. Tears filled her eyes, but she still wanted to hear every bit he could possibly tell her, as if the knowledge of their deaths could somehow bring her closer to them. “She was stabbed?”

“Yes, miss,” the soldier answered gravely. “She tried to fight. But Saud thrust his knife in her many times. We didn’t find the boy that night, or he might have died the same way.”

“And my father?”

“The news of her death reeled him almost off his feet. He claimed his innocence, but no one would believe him. His last words were a plea for his children.”

Tiarra fell into sobs that shook her nearly from the chair. Lorne knelt suddenly at her side, steadying her.

“I’m so sorry, miss. May God forgive us and spare your brother’s life again.”

She could not answer him.

“I had longed for a way to make things right,” the soldier said sadly. “But I know now that there is no way.”

“At least you have borne the truth,” Benn Trilett told him.

The man nodded. “I should not stay here any longer.”

Lord Trilett looked at him carefully. “Will you go back to the Trents’ service?”

“I don’t think I can. I have family here in the town. I only want to be with them right now.”

Benn nodded.

“I thank God that these children have your protection, my lord.”

“The Dorn has been protection to me,” Benn told him. “It is small, what I can do for him in return.”

The soldier rose to his feet. Benn Trilett saw him out the door and then joined Netta alongside Tahn’s bed. Tiarra continued to weep, and Netta thought that perhaps they all needed her to give voice to the weight of sadness upon them in this place.

Tahn was still curled on his side, his arms trembling ever so slightly. It was hard for Netta not to burst into sobs of her own.

“I thought there could be such an explanation,” her father spoke softly.

“The Trents are not all of his kin,” Netta said solemnly.

“Father, Tahn wanted me to tell you that his father was a brother to Samis.”

Benn shook his head. “That must have seemed to him a curse as bad as the baron’s.”

“I know it troubles him. But he said we had to know. Because we have a right to consider.”

“Consider what, child?”

“Him. And all the past he carries. To stand at my side. To become my husband.” Her voice broke as she spoke the words.

“Oh, daughter. We don’t know if he’ll live the day.”

“He will! Father, he must!”

He took her carefully in his arms. “Netta, I pray he lives, and I would gladly give you to him. I’d not deny you, regardless of his family.”

She hugged him. And then she eased beside Tahn on the bed and held his head in her arms. Leaning back, she stroked his long hair and sang a song she remembered that he liked, a hymn he had once heard Jarel sing at Onath.

Hours later, they were still at their vigil. Lucas was on his knees. Tobas had brought bread from the Trilett guards’ provisions, but no one felt much like eating it. Netta asked if some broth might be prepared for when Tahn woke, and Tobas had been quick to bring that as well, but it sat untouched beside the healer woman’s fire. Lorne had kept the fire burning and brought Tiarra water and bread, though she scarcely wanted either.

Netta’s father had gone to talk to the priest. It troubled Netta for Catrin’s sake that he might truly hang the healer woman for her treachery. But she knew she would not argue with him about it.

Netta had not moved from the bed. For a time, Tahn’s tremors had been horrible, and she was glad she was there to hold him. But he was much calmer now, breathing shallow breaths and murmuring something occasionally that she could not discern. “I love you,” she whispered in his ear, hoping that he was able to hear her.

Tiarra came to the bedside and knelt down again. “I almost wish he hadn’t come here,” she said. “Though I’m glad I could meet him.”

Netta nodded, but Tiarra only bowed her head sadly. “Do you think things will ever be different? So long as we have living kin, perhaps he’ll never be safe.”

“It will have to end,” Netta told her. “Lionell cannot continue to threaten. My father will make sure of that.”

“But what of some other soul with foolish fears, like that old woman?”

Netta sighed. “Perhaps Mr. Toddin was right that Tahn belongs in Onath. And you too. No one fears the baron there.”

“We shouldn’t have to run,” Tiarra maintained. “Or hide.”

“I agree. But you needn’t see it as such. We’re just going home.”

Tahn rolled slightly, and Netta gently brushed a strand of hair from his face. But she did not expect his sudden reaction. He cried out and knocked her hand away. With his other hand he swung out wildly, striking Tiarra on the shoulder.

“Get back,“ Lucas warned, rushing to the bedside. Tiarra obeyed him with frightened eyes, but Netta didn’t move.

“He’ll not hurt me.”

“He doesn’t know it’s you.” Lucas reached quickly to take hold of Tahn’s arms before he could swing out again. “Tahn! It’s friends.”

“Peace,” Netta whispered, remembering the time in the cave depths when Tahn sprang at her after she’d tried waking him from a horrible dream. Surely those days were past.

“Wake up to us,” Lucas was pleading. “Tahn, open your eyes.”

Carefully, Netta reached her hand out again. “We love you,” she whispered with a tender touch of his hair. Tahn shook but he didn’t struggle. “It’s all right,” she said. “You’re safe.”

Slowly his eyes opened.

“Are you all right, brother?” Lucas asked. “Can we get you water?”

Tahn lay very still, looking up at him. He closed his eyes for just a moment but then managed a weak nod.

Lorne was quick to bring a ladle of water, and Netta held Tahn’s head and helped him drink. Lucas loosed his hold with a sigh of relief and sat down beside them. “Thank God, Tahn. Thank God you’re alive.”

“Lucas . . .”

“Yes, brother?”

“What . . . have I done?”

“What do you mean?”

“You held me. Did I hurt you?”

“No.” Lucas shook his head. “No, Tahn. I’m so sorry. I was just being cautious, for the women you love.”

He turned his eyes for a moment to Netta, and then to Tiarra standing behind Lucas. “You’re all . . . all right?”

“Yes,” Netta answered immediately. “And so glad you’re alive.”

Tahn looked around them, his dark eyes taking in what he could of the room. “Where is the old woman?”

“In a locked room in the church,” Lorne answered. “We know what she did to you. It was poison. Thank God you knew. Before she managed to get it all inside you.”

“Why?” Tahn asked them, struggling for a breath. “Did she say why?” He moved his arms toward his stomach. Netta tensed, knowing he was in pain.

“She was afraid you’d take vengeance,” she said softly. “On all of Alastair.”

“Did no one notice,” Tahn gasped, “that I came in peace?”

Netta knew that the injustice was like a weight on him.
God! Is there no good here? It breaks his heart!

“This town wears a shroud of fear,” Lucas answered. “It seems they can’t judge anything aright.”

“God help them,” Tahn said slowly, closing his eyes.

And Netta was immediately concerned that he might be sinking from them again. “Tahn?”

“I want to go home,” he said with quiet voice. “But not . . . without my sister.”