Tahn (12 page)

“Why wouldn’t I?” she demanded. “Unless it is wrong, and you know it is?”

All of the children stared at Tahn. What would he do about this strange woman who dared to question him like that? Would he send her away? Or worse?

But he did nothing. “Think of a storm,” he told the children.

Netta shook her head in dismay. He had such a hold on them that they all stood straight as sticks in rapt attention.

“Just air. But there is strength in it that you can’t see. And there is strength in each of you.” He had locked eyes with the little boy named Briant and quickly stepped the distance between them, pulling out his long sword.

The boy was clearly frightened, but he stood as still as he could as the sword drew ever nearer, until Tahn had rested the blade of it against his chest.

Netta shuddered. The man had been right. She did not like this. “Mr. Dorn!” she cried out. “Please—”

But the words stuck in her throat as he turned toward her. She didn’t see the childlike face then, nor the sagging shoulders. She saw the hard eyes of the dark angel who had killed her beloved Karll with that same sword.

“Go!” he commanded her.

But she shook her head, not knowing where the boldness was coming from. “You terrorize them,” she said. “If they must be prepared to fight, at least let them know safety now! There is a great strength in peace of heart as well.”

“Sit down,” Tahn ordered. All the children obeyed. But Netta stood, still facing him. He moved toward her, sword in hand.

Inside she trembled, wanting desperately to run from this man and anything having to do with him. But she knew she shouldn’t, for the children’s sakes. As he got closer and lifted the sword, the picture in her mind was Karll, the blood pouring without remedy from his severed throat.

“Jesus,” she said, just as he laid the sword against her chest as he had Briant’s.

“Were they other children,” Tahn began, “your words would be well enough. But they are now targets of he who taught me the craft of the kill. You don’t understand what that means. Most of the battle is mind, and I must prepare them. One thing they must conquer, and conquer now, is the paralysis of fear.”

Somehow she was able to meet his eyes without wavering. “There is only one way to do that truly,” she said. “Trust. In the God who holds our lives in his hands.”

She knew she’d struck a nerve with him. For a fleeting moment she saw in his eyes the torment of that horrible dream they had not discussed.

“I heard about your lesson,” he said. “And I will not interfere, however you see fit to teach them. But you will not interfere again with mine. You will join our circle now in silence, or go as I said. Pray if you wish. But you will leave us alone.”

It was not a challenge. It was a simple statement of the way it would be. Netta knew she could not press the matter further. She also knew that somehow she had made her point. She took her cloak and a fresh candle and walked toward the cave entrance.

They were much longer at their lesson than they had been the previous day. She sat beside the opening in the cave’s first room, pulled the pages of script from her pocket, and read what she could of the epistles of Saint Paul. She prayed for whoever remained of her family, wherever they might be, and for the saints who loved the rectory and had stood in danger because of it. Then her heart returned to the matter of Mr. Dorn and the children with him. What should she do? They couldn’t just live like this forever.

It seemed like an eternity had passed when Stuva emerged from the chamber toward her. “You’re welcome now,” he said. “We’re returning to nimbles.” He watched her carefully replace the worn pages to the pocket of her cloak. “Why didn’t you just leave us?” he asked. “You can walk all right. You could’ve been a long way by now. Are you afraid of the men seeking you?”

“More than that,” she told him. “I could not be satisfied leaving you behind. I need to know that you will be all right. I need to find a way to help.”

“You are helping, Miss,” he said. “Strange as you are. But the Dorn helps us too. An’ you did a foolish thing today. He might’ve killed you.” He turned and went back into the cave tunnel without waiting for her. She was surprised how quickly he moved, being as new to the cave as he was.

Tahn had disappeared. The younger children played their strange game, and then Netta read to them from her pages of handwritten script, part of her father’s collection and his father’s before that. And she was thankful that Benn Trilett had had the heart to educate his daughter as well as Trilett sons.

When she was finished, despite her displeasure with it, the boys all took to sparring with one another. Netta had been noticing the rips in some of their clothes. Since they were plenty warm with all the activity just then, she had them pull off their shirts, and she took the needle and thread from the sewing bag in her pocket and sat down to mend. She was glad she had brought it, and glad her mother had insisted she learn such things for herself and not just rely on the servants.

Much to her pleasure, Temas sat with her and watched her mending in fascination.

Soon enough, the boys were hungry, and Netta waved them on to whatever they wanted from the food bag. Had any of these children ever had a hot meal? Perhaps one day she could see to that. She said a silent prayer that the Lord help her find a home for them. But she knew of nowhere for certain that it would be safe to go.

Vari didn’t eat as much as the others, despite his size.

Soon he was on his feet and headed once again down the passageway toward Tahn’s chamber.

“The Dorn told him to come after he ate,” Temas told her.

“Why?” Netta asked.

The little girl just shrugged her shoulders. “Can I do that?” she asked and ran her finger along Netta’s freshly sewed seam.

At first Netta hesitated, but then she thought that such a perfectly normal activity would be a wonderful thing to share. So she placed the needle in Temas’s hand and began to guide her in a simple stitch, using the hem area of her now soiled scarf.

The girl learned quickly and was soon making some decent little edge stitches. But Netta kept wondering about Vari, why he acted strangely, and what drew him alone to Tahn’s chamber early in the morning and now again. She stood up.

“I will be right back,” she announced.

“You shouldn’t follow him right now,” Stuva said, somehow knowing her intention.

“Do you feel as though Vari is your brother?” she asked him.

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation.

“I’m beginning to share some of that feeling myself,” she said. “So I must follow. I’ll be right back, as I said.”

She took a candle with her and began to navigate the long narrow passage. After considerable distance, she could hear Tahn’s voice.

“I would rather I had no need of your help tonight,” he was saying.

“I understand,” Vari answered softly.

As quietly as she could, Netta approached them, snuffing her candle. She followed the voices through the darkness toward another candle’s glow.

They were sitting on a rock. Tahn held what looked like a tiny bottle in his hand. “You understand what you’ll have to do?” he was asking.

“Yes, sir.”

Tahn took a drink and handed the bottle to Vari. “Just a little sip this time,” he cautioned the young man. “You need to be in your senses tonight.”

From the darkness, Netta came upon them just as Vari was taking his sip with shaking hands. “What is that?” she demanded.

Tahn jumped to his feet and whirled to face her with fire in his eyes. “Never,” he said, sounding almost breathless, “never, Lady, should you creep up on—”

“I asked what that is you gave him!”

For a moment he stood silent, meeting her gaze with defiance. But then he sighed. “It is an opiate tincture.”

“Opiate?” she fumed. “And you share it with a youth? You care no more for the children than that? Instead of blankets you bring them drugs?”

As soon as she said it, she was sorry she had. The change in his eyes was frightening. There was anger. But there was also a hurt that was deep and raw. He took a step forward, and she found herself backing up, unsure of what he might do.

But he turned to Vari solemnly. “You can manage it tonight?”

Vari nodded.

“I will be at the archway at midnight,” Tahn told him. Then he brushed past Netta and walked away without meeting her eyes. Early as it was, she knew he would be leaving the cave for another night without giving her any further opportunity to talk.

Now it was Vari looking at her angrily. “You’re not fair to him!” he shouted.

“How long has he been giving you that drug?” she asked, unwilling to acknowledge what Vari had just said.

“Only a week,” Vari told her, the anger still evident in his voice. “And it’s because I begged him! I’m addicted, Miss, and it’s not his fault. Samis started that when I was ten.”

Ten? Netta was appalled by the world of these children.

“If he hadn’t gotten it for me,” Vari continued, “I’d be fit for nothing before long. And I can’t go through that right now. Not till we’re better settled.”

It was plain when he said it how scared he was. She sat down beside him. “Is Mr. Dorn addicted too?”

“I don’t know,” Vari answered honestly. “I’ve seen him take a sip now and then like he did today, but I don’t know how much of a hold it has.”

“Any of the others?” Netta asked.

“No. They weren’t there long enough. When you first get to Valhal, they rule you with fear. It’s later, when you start to get a little size and fighting ability, that they give the drug. To everybody, I guess.” He looked at her with what seemed to be a bottomless sadness. “Don’t talk to the Dorn like that again,” he said. “He
does
care. He risked his life to come back and get all of us out of there. I was already on the wheel. I would be dead now if it weren’t for him.”

“The wheel?” Netta asked.

“It used to be a water wheel for a mill. But Samis made it over. It’s real slow. When he’s given up on someone, sometimes he has them tied to it. When they go head down they drown.”

“My Lord,” Netta whispered. “Vari, I’m sorry. He … he saved you from that?”

“Yes, ma’am. Should be him you tell the sorry to. You act like he’s a villain. But he’s not. He’s our friend.” He stood up with a sigh. “But he’s gone again for now. Nothing we can do about that. So we oughta go back to the youngsters, Miss. They’d benefit from another lesson.”

He walked away, and Netta sat for a moment staring at his back. He had told her such horrid things almost without emotion. It seemed all of the children shared that emptiness of expression much of the time. Did that awful place, Valhal, take away one’s ability to cry?

7

V
ari went to Merinth that night just as Tahn had requested. And after only two hours there, the youth drove his horse hard through the timber to put the town behind him. His hands braced the reins so tightly they hurt. He sucked in a breath of air and swallowed hard at the lump that crowded his throat. He was glad to be leaving Merinth. He was even glad to leave Tahn there, rather than have him at his side right now with the blood fresh on his shirt and the fire still in his eyes.

With his gut churning, Vari kicked at his mount, still seeing the panicked face of the fat man Tahn had killed. Blood had gushed from the man like a fountain, desecrating his pristine robes.

“We’re here to save a life,” Tahn had told him. But instead, they’d ended up fighting for their own. Swords were clashing, but Vari couldn’t seem to move. The dead man’s eyes held him in their anguished stare.

He’d pulled himself away and ran past another body in the hallway. He’d followed the sound of Tahn’s voice and reached a large room in time to see his friend struggle with Britt, one of Samis’s best swordsmen. Vari had to help, knowing that Britt could be nearly as brutal as his trainer. He picked up a candlestick from the vespers table and threw it at the dark angel Tahn fought, just to call the man’s attention away. And Tahn took full advantage. His first blow brought his opponent to the floor, and the second nearly severed the curly head.

Vari closed his eyes, but the scene wouldn’t leave him. Every step of his mount was jarring him, as though his insides would tear loose and spill on the ground. The horse stumbled suddenly over a stream, and Vari clutched his stomach and cursed himself for being so weak. He pulled the reins and clambered to the ground. A sickening heat spread down his spine, and he lost what little he’d eaten onto the stream bank.
God!
his mind screamed.
God, make it go away!

He thought of the children sleeping in the cave and the Lady Trilett, who’d tried very hard to stop him from leaving. She’d wanted him to tell her Tahn’s plans, but he would say nothing of where he was going or why. Tahn had said it would hurt her too much if they weren’t successful, that if her kinsman were killed, it would be better for her not to know he’d been so close.

They had not been able to rescue the man, so Vari was glad he’d kept Tahn’s confidence. He had obeyed, and he knew he would do it again. But now he lay on the rocks, breathing hard and feeling like he’d have to heave all over again. Why did it have to be like this?