The Silent Tempest (Book 2) (6 page)

“I’m not here to kill you, Owen.”

The older man’s eyes focused on him more intently,
trying to understand why the stranger had known his name. “Who are you?” he
asked.

“Where is Brigid?” asked Tyrion, ignoring the
question. His old name would only reopen wounds that were better left
undisturbed.

Owen looked down, focusing on Brenda’s face in his
lap. “I won’t tell you. Just kill me, so I can be with my wife.”

“I’m not here to kill anyone,” said Tyrion. “I want
to protect Brigid from those who came here before me. Where is she? Is she
with Seth?”

Owen looked up again, and recognition slowly dawned on
him. “Daniel?”

The name sent a sliver of pain into his heart.
“Something like that,” he admitted. “Where is Brigid?” He wanted out, he
wanted to be away. Owen’s eyes held an image of him that he didn’t want to
remember. The expectations there belonged to another person, to another life.

“She didn’t tell them,” said the farmer. “That’s why
they killed her. She wouldn’t betray her child.”

Tyrion’s eyes narrowed, “Then why are you alive?”

“I got here too late. They were already gone…”

“Then how do you know what she said?” said Tyrion
harshly.

“She wouldn’t. She loved Brigid dearly, more than her
own life.” Tears dripped from his nose to mingle with the blood covering his
wife’s bosom.

“People will say anything if you inflict enough pain.
Where is Brigid? There’s no time to waste if I’m to catch them.”

“At Seth’s,” answered Owen Tolburn.

Tyrion turned away and began to walk out.

“Do you even care that she’s dead?” asked the older
man, confused by his abrupt dismissal.

He paused and glanced back, letting his eyes roam over
the dead woman’s body. Brenda Tolburn, no
Brenda Sayer,
was as dead as
any of the other corpses he had seen before. He felt empty looking at her.
She was the reason he had become what he was now.

Once he had hated her. Hated her for destroying his
dreams, hated her for raping him, but he could no longer feel even that for
her. He had done far worse than what she had. Staring at the terrible wounds
on her body, he wondered how long she had held out before she had given them
the information they sought.

Even she loved. She loved her children.

He made his way out and reclaimed his horse without
bothering to answer. It would take at least an hour to reach Seth and Kate’s
house. He already knew he was too late. Now it was just a matter of how long
it would be before he caught up to those who had gotten there before him.

The darkness could not touch him as he rode, for he was
darker inside than even a moonless night could hope to challenge.

He passed his old home without stopping. There was no
light coming from it, and his magesight found no one within, which was just as
well, he had no time to waste. He couldn’t help but wonder where they were,
though. Haley had told him that they weren’t injured when she was taken.

Tyrion kept his pace steady. The wardens would have
already been to Kate and Seth Tolburn’s home. Even factoring in the time they
had spent at Owen Tolburn’s farm, they had to still be at least three or four
hours ahead of him. By now they had taken Brigid and moved on. The only
question was how many they had hurt or killed along the way.

He stroked the horse’s neck as if to calm her, but it
was his own tension that needed soothing.
Save your strength for the chase,
he thought.

Catherine and Seth Tolburn’s house was well lit when
it came into view, and as he drew closer Tyrion could detect several people
within, two women, one man, and a boy. A moment later he had identified them.
Mother, Kate, Seth, and the boy must be their son, Aaron.

His mother, Helen Tennick, appeared to be preparing a
meal, standing over a stove in the kitchen. The boy was close by, sitting at
the table, strangely quiet and still for a child of eleven years. He was
either tired or…

“…in shock,” said Tyrion as he rode.

Kate and Seth were arguing in the bedroom, and while
his magesight didn’t bring him their words, it showed him enough that he could
see it was a serious squabble. Tyrion kept his mind clear, refusing to
speculate.
Not my business…

The boy, Aaron, fell out of his chair and began
scrabbling across the floor when Tyrion opened the front door. His eyes were
wide with fear. Helen was startled as well, but she recognized her son almost
immediately and began shushing the boy.

“Aaron, it’s alright. It’s my son,” she told him,
wiping her hands on a towel.

The boy was having none of it, and fled into the back
of the house. A door slammed as he sought sanctuary in his parent’s bedroom.

“I have some bad news, Mother,” said Tyrion.

Helen had been moving forward, picking up speed with
each step. She caught him in her arms, crying. “Daniel! They took her. They
took her, Daniel. There was nothing we could do!”

“I know,” he muttered over her shoulder. It felt
strange to be held. The smell of his mother’s hair was familiar, even though
it had been over ten years since he had last seen her. She felt small, almost
frail in his arms, but her grip was strong. She clung to him with the sort of
desperate emotion he never felt from Lyralliantha.

“Why?” she cried. “Why would they do this? Why did
they take Haley? We did nothing to them!”

“Because they’re my children,” he said flatly. His
magesight showed him that the others were creeping out the back door. Trying
to escape. They thought he was one of the wardens, back to inflict more pain
and suffering.

He put a hand over his mother’s ear. “Pardon me,” he
told her, before raising his voice and shouting toward the back of the house,
“Kate, Seth, it’s me! I’m not here to hurt anyone. I need to find the ones who
took Brigid!”

Helen pulled away, “It’s Daniel. He’s back!”

Tyrion flinched involuntarily at the sound of his old
name. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to say it.

A minute passed before the others stepped out from the
hall, the boy clutching tightly to his mother while Seth carried a heavy
crossbow. “What do you want?” asked Seth warily.

Tyrion didn’t answer immediately; his mind was
absorbing their images, remembering them, and readjusting to their new
appearances. Seth was older, with gray showing in his hair and beard. His
hairline was receding, and his body was heavier, thicker, with more muscle on
his shoulders, and a bit of fat around his chin.

Aaron was the most changed, naturally; no longer an
infant, the boy was a lanky adolescent with thin straight hair and a fearful
gaze.

It was the third person who took most of Tyrion’s
attention, however. His eyes stopped moving when they reached Kate. She had
somehow collected even more freckles, and her face showed lines around her eyes
where time and sun had taken their toll on her fair skin. Her fiery hair was
shorter now, and what there was of it was trapped behind her head, wound into a
tight bun.

Even in the dim room, her eyes sparkled with emerald
defiance. Her face was swollen and purpling on the left side. She took a step
forward but jerked to a halt as her husband pulled her back.

“Daniel?” she said, when he failed to respond.

“Your mother is dead,” he said finally, staring
through her, refusing to let his eyes focus firmly on any of them. “I need to
know which direction they took.”

Kate flinched at the words, but only for a second. “There
are too many, you can’t fight them.”

“How do you know he plans to fight?” asked Seth beside
her. “He’s one of them now.”

“Because it’s
Daniel!
” she snarled back, but
her eyes never left the man in front of her.

“They headed toward town. Your father is following
them,” said Seth.

Kate turned then, glaring at her husband, “I thought
you didn’t trust him.”

“The sooner he goes after them, the sooner we’re rid
of him.”

She swung at him then, her hand flying up, but Seth
caught her wrist, and his own fist clenched as he prepared to punish her.

“Don’t.” He said it quietly, but both of them froze
at the sound of his voice. “How many of them are there?”

“At least ten,” answered Kate. She pulled her arm
free from Seth’s grasp. “They wanted to kill us, but the black one wouldn’t
let them.”

“Black one?” asked Tyrion.

Helen spoke then, “One of the forest gods, he had coal
black skin and golden hair.”

“Just one?”

She nodded.

“That will complicate things,” he said, thinking
aloud.

“Alan’s going to get himself killed,” said Helen. “He
went after them. He still blames himself for Haley. He’s gone mad with
guilt.” She looked at her son with a mixture of hope and shame. Hope that he
might be able to put things right, and shame that she was willing to let her
son put himself in danger. “Do you know what they did with Haley?”

“She’s safe,” said Tyrion. “But the ones who came
here plan to find the others.”

“Others?” said Helen.

“His bastards,” answered Seth. “They had their names
already. That’s why they went to Colne. Most of them live in town, since
that’s where he did the majority of his whoring.”

“Then I have less time than I thought,” said Tyrion.
They
had the names. Who told them? Brenda, or was it Owen, hoping to negotiate for
their daughter’s freedom?
He turned his back on them, heading for the
door. The others began fighting as he left.

“Let me go!” came Kate’s voice.

“Do you even care what he said? Your mother’s dead,
Kate! Does that mean nothing to you?” That was Seth.

“You know
nothing
about my mother,” she growled
back at him. “Give me the crossbow.”

“You can’t be serious!” said her husband. “He’s a
monster, and you want to chase after him?!”

Helen interrupted then, “He’s my son.”

Seth’s voice was furious, “Well your
son
fucked
half the women in Colne, including my wife!” He addressed Kate next, “Is that
what you want Kate? Once wasn’t enough? You’re just as much a whore as your
mother!”

Tyrion was mounting his mare now, but despite himself,
he kept his ears focused on the voices arguing stridently behind him. It
appeared that Kate was about to follow him out the door. She was carrying the
crossbow now, along with a quiver full of bolts.

“Don’t you step out that door…”

“Or what?!” Kate shouted back. “You’ll hit me again?
Will that make you feel like more of a man?”

“You walk out that door, and it’s over. You aren’t
coming back,” said Seth menacingly.

The door flew open as if someone had kicked it, which
of course, she had. Catherine walked through it with an expression that might
have made even a warden flinch. There was murder in her eyes. She was halfway
to the horse before a second, smaller form, ran after her.

“Momma! Don’t go!” Aaron yelled.

She turned and caught him in her arms, dropping the
crossbow as her features softened. She held the boy tightly, fighting back
tears.

“Don’t go,” the boy sobbed into her hair.

She kissed the top of his head, “I want you to be a
good boy. Mind your father, alright?”

“I want to come with you.”

“I wish you could,” she said softly, “but it isn’t
safe.”

“You’re leaving because of Dad aren’t you?” asked her
son.

Kate squeezed him again, “No. Your father is angry,
but he loves you. I need you to take care of him for me. Can you do that?”

“I don’t want to.”

“Do it for me, alright?” she told him.

“Why are you going?” asked her son.

“They’ve got my sister,” she replied
matter-of-factly. “I would do the same if it were you.”

“You’ll come back with Brigid, right?” said the boy.

Tyrion spoke then, “No.”

Kate looked up at him, startled, “What?”

“The girl won’t be coming back. Even if I recover
her, they will send more,” he explained.

“Then what do you plan?” she asked him.

Tyrion looked back toward the road. “I’m taking her
with me. I’m taking all of them.”

“Taking them? Daniel, these kids don’t even know
you. You can’t just take them away from their families,” she said, disbelief
written clear on her face.

“I’m not asking,” he said flatly. “You should stay
here, with your family. There’s nothing you can do to help.”

“You’re giving them to the forest gods? They’ll be
slaves! You can’t mean that,” she insisted.

He nudged the mare with his heels, and she began to
walk.

She watched him, torn in two directions as a war raged
within her. Hugging Aaron once more, she told him, “I love you. Go inside.
Mind your father.” Pushing him away, she started after the horse.

“Momma no,” cried the boy, but he didn’t move from
where he stood.

“Take care of him, Aaron. He needs you,” she said
once more, catching up to the horse.

Tyrion kept moving, ignoring the woman walking beside
him. After a hundred yards he stopped. “You’re making a mistake.”

“She’s my sister, Daniel,” she answered. Kate’s face
was streaked with tears, she could still hear her son’s voice in her heart.

“It would be better if you forgot about her. She
can’t come back with you. None of them can.”

“Then I’ll go with them.”

“You can’t,” he told her. “You have a son, a husband,
you have a life. If you come with me they’ll collar you.”

“It isn’t your choice,” she insisted stubbornly. “I’m
not letting you take my sister into slavery alone.”

“I won’t take you.”

“Then I’ll follow on my own,” she replied flatly.

He considered kicking the horse into a gallop, but he
couldn’t bring himself to leave her alone on the road. Instead, he continued
to feign indifference, riding without looking at her while he considered his
options.

If he rendered her unconscious he could leave her back
at the house, but she would probably follow again as soon as she woke up.
Unless
Seth tied her up,
he thought. He might have considered it before, but the
bruise on her face left him uneasy. The Seth he had grown up with would never
have struck a woman, Kate least of all.

People change,
he
mused, glancing at the tattoos that lined his arms.

The violence she would encounter among the slaves of
the She’Har would be far worse, though. In his mind’s eye he imagined her
being beaten by one of the wardens. His anger, never far from the surface,
rose at the thought.
She won’t go to Ellentrea. None of them will.
Lyralliantha will take them. I’ll make a new place for them.

There were a lot of ‘ifs’ involved in that scenario.
Not the least of which was the fact that he had no idea whether Lyralliantha
would agree to such a thing, or if she could convince her elders to let her
keep a dozen or more slaves.

An hour passed in silence. Tyrion alternated between
scanning their surrounding with his magesight and surreptitiously studying the
woman beside him.

She had changed. Her features were sharper, her face
leaner. Life and hard work had put lines on her face while her hips had grown
a bit wider.
Not that that’s a bad thing,
he thought,
she was almost
too skinny before.