Tahn (34 page)

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Authors: L. A. Kelly

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“My lord,” he said to Benn, “have you known any of the baron’s men to be about?”

“No. And I don’t expect any open trouble from them now.”

“Have the people reported to you any of the mercenaries?”

“No,” Benn answered, following his eyes. “Is there a reason you are asking now?”

“One of them is in the room above the shop there,” he said, gesturing with his head.

“Mercenary soldier?”

Tahn nodded.

“Could he be dangerous to us now?”

“Any of them could be. Have I another pie among the gifts?”

“Yes. You have.” He looked at him with question.

“Could you call two of your friends, fighting men if there are any, and ask them to take it to the man there watching?”

“You would win an enemy by feeding him?”

“If there have been no others about, he has probably been left alone to his post. He will be hungry by now.”

“You have a large mercy, Mr. Dorn.”

“I’ve received mercy. I can afford to extend it. Perhaps he will hesitate at causing us harm.”

“And if he doesn’t welcome the offering?”

“I think he’ll not hurt your men if they are careful. If it were his orders to attack, he’d have done it by now. He’s here to watch. So they’ll know if I leave.”

“You expect he’s alone?”

“I hope so. I hope there wasn’t another now following Vari. That troubles me.”

“No one’s been seen. And I assure you this town is watching. There are capable men with your boys, as well.”

Tahn nodded. “Tell them to ask him to come and speak with me.” He looked up at Father Anolle, who hadn’t said a word. He didn’t need to. Trust. That’s what he’d say. We are all in God’s hands.

They had not gotten into the church before a rider came swiftly toward them.

“My lord!” the man called and stopped his mount at the base of the steps. “Josef tells me there are four men with the insignia of Trent entering the town.”

“Thank you,” Benn told the man. “Watch them but do not interfere.”

“Yes, sir. And if they come here?”

“Let them come. They’ll not get this far without drawing attention.”

“Yes, sir.” The man took his leave of them, and Benn turned back to Tahn, who was leaning on the stair rail with a frown.

“They’d not be in Onath if they weren’t coming here,” Tahn told him. “You can’t trust them, even with the baron dead.”

“I know that,” Benn assured him. “Let me help you inside.”

Lionell Trent’s messengers made their way through the quiet streets.

“You’re not welcome here!” someone shouted.

Most of the people who saw them watched in silence. But slowly from out of shops and houses, men began to follow the riders on foot. Whatever their business was, they would not be left to it unwitnessed.

“They’ve got sticks and such,” one of the soldiers whispered to his companion, their captain. “You suppose they’ll let us leave?”

“We’ve come in peace,” the man replied. “They’ll be all right when they see that.”

“I hope they see it before we get to the church,” the youngest soldier said. “They’re liable to kill us if we try to go in.”

“Leave that to me,” the captain told them. He stopped his horse. “Citizens!” he called out. “Tell me if the honorable Lord Trilett may still be found in your esteemed holy church!”

“Go home!” a man front and center in the crowd told him.

The captain bowed to him. “We cannot, sir, until we deliver a message personally from the young Lionell Trent. He wishes to express his regret for the actions of his departed father. He has sent us in peace. Please, good men! Help us to deliver our letters and we shall go with our gratitude.”

The man in the crowd picked out a sturdy teenager from the group. “Run ahead and tell the guards at the church to alert our lord. We’ll escort them.”

Then the man turned his attention back to the soldiers. “Give us your weapons. Peaceful messengers don’t need them. You’ll have them back when you leave Onath.”

One of the soldiers began to protest, but his captain immediately stopped him. “Of course, sir. They are but a traveling precaution.”

When the soldiers had given over their weapons, the group of townsmen surrounded them as they progressed to the churchyard, where more men were waiting. Benn Trilett and Father Anolle came out together.

The captain immediately dismounted and bowed himself to the ground at the base of the steps. His men followed him. “Gracious Lord Trilett,” the captain said. “I beg you to receive us in peace. We come with letters from your countryman, Lionell Trent, who continues in mourning for the breach his father caused between your noble houses.”

The captain looked up at Bennamin Trilett’s face, which at that moment looked as immovable as stone. “We are his humble servants, Lord, and yours,” the soldier continued. “Allow us to present his message.”

Lord Trilett did not move from his position on the highest step. He did not give them the customary greeting or the courtesy of a more private audience. “Proceed, sir.”

The captain removed two rolls from the pouch at his side and took a step forward. But Benn Trilett nodded to one of his guardsmen, who took the papers from the soldier’s hands and carried them up the steps to him. The crowd waited in silence as Benn read both messages.

“He has acknowledged the wrongdoing,” Benn addressed the people. “He says it was his father’s alone, not his. He sends an apology and his sympathy for our loss. He pledges peace and asks for it in return. And he mentions a gift for our rebuilding.”

One of the other soldiers pulled a box from a saddlebag. The guard brought it to Benn’s hands. It was full of gold coins.

“I do not wish his money,” Benn said and closed the box.

“Sir!” the captain exclaimed. “To refuse a gift is an insult.” “You are right. Let us not insult the young baron. I will give this to the church to finance the repairs of the rectory.”

The captain frowned.

“Thank you for your labor,” Benn told him. “The people will allow you to go in peace.”

“Have you no word in return for our lord?”

“Tell him I received his message. I thank him for his expression of sympathy. And he can expect peace.”

“You will not put it in writing for our hand, Lord?” the soldier asked with some surprise.

“No. Your mouth will be sufficient. You have no interest in poor relations between your lord and me, I trust.”

“None, sir. Of course not.”

“Very well. I would be grateful if you return my answer swiftly. Extend my condolences to the Lady Trent in her grief.”

“Yes, sir.” All four soldiers returned to their horses.

“Cabot,” Benn spoke to his guard. “See that they have provisions for their journey.”

Benn and Father Anolle watched the soldiers leave with their reclaimed weapons.

“You may have insulted them,” Anolle told him, “by refusing to entertain them in the ordinary fashion.”

“I have little stomach for custom today,” Benn answered. “Let Lionell understand that ordinary relations are not won back so easily. He can take some time at earning that. It will not hurt the Trents nor their soldiers to wear humility for a season.”

“You don’t believe him innocent then?” Anolle asked at a whisper.

“I know the young nobles of our land. Until the cost became too great, he enjoyed his father’s ambition.”

When the soldiers were gone, Benn drew the people’s attention again. “Publish it about,” he told them. “I will hire honest men to be soldiers in my service. I am grateful to you all beyond words. You are my dear friends, but you have families and other labors you must return to.”

“Benn!” Anolle exclaimed. “The House of Trilett has never kept soldiers.”

Lord Trilett looked up to the darkening sky. “And we have not had the power to prevent the evil of those who have, Father. There’s not even a just and organized law in our land anymore! We can do more for our countrymen than pray for them only.”

He bowed low to his people and went inside.

The following evening, Netta finally got an opportunity to speak to Father Anolle as they both entered the sanctuary alone.

“Father, I am troubled,” she began. “I need to speak to you about Mr. Dorn.”

“Yes?”

Netta fidgeted with a dress ruffle. “I—I respect what he’s done for us. And I rejoice at his salvation.”

The priest looked confused. “Then why are you troubled, daughter?”

She burst out with the words before she could think better of it. “I don’t want to think too much of him! It concerns Jarel. He feels I could become too attached. Am I being unwise to care about him?”

“You would be un-Christlike if you did not care.”

“But do I care too much, Father? Or inappropriately?”

Anolle smiled. “You’ll find your heart.”

“Jarel says he could be dangerous. And I had such a fear of him before. But I don’t see it now. What do you think? Is he yet dangerous?”

“I have no doubt, daughter, that if you were in peril, he would be dangerous to your assailant.”

Netta shook her head. “Not only me. He would help you or anyone else, surely. You don’t think he has a special care for me, do you? Vari thinks he does, but Vari’s a bit of a dreamer.”

“It will take him some time, Netta, to know his heart and accept it. He does not see himself in the light others see him.”

“What do you mean?”

“We see the lives he’s saved. But he sees himself as a man struggling for a footing in faith, with no special virtues to his credit.”

Netta stared at him. “No virtues? He has such strength! To survive, and to reach out—”

Father Anolle smiled.

“Oh!” She shook her head in embarrassment. “You must think Jarel right, how I talk! But I never expected to find good in such a nightmare.”

“Peace, child. There is no harm in gratitude nor in admiration.”

“But—”

“Love is of God, Netta. You’ll have to sort out your own heart and trust what you find there. And that is not Jarel’s job to do. Your father would appreciate you sharing your feelings. But he will not be too greatly troubled, I think. He accepts Mr. Dorn as an honorable man with a captive past.”

“Father! I expected your caution. Similar to Jarel’s, to say the least.”

He stood. “I hope I’m no disappointment. But your father taught me something yesterday. Our hearts can convince us of need, and it is more important that we obey than do what our tradition tells us is proper.”

Netta looked to the cross at the head of the sanctuary.
Lord, help my heart! Tradition would have me protesting even the priest’s words. I should not even think of a man not of noble birth. But wherever the Dorn may go, I shall not be able to forget him!

Suddenly her thoughts were interrupted by the excited sounds of children. She jumped up. “Father! They’re back! They’re here!”

She ran out in time to nearly collide with the group of little ones on their way in.

“I
told
you!” Vari yelled with disgust. “Walk in quietly and decently. He might be asleep!”

Netta laughed as Temas and Rane hugged at her.

“We missed you, Lady,” Briant said with the decorum of an adult. “How is Teacher faring?”

“He’s much improved. He’s been expecting you.”

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