Return to Alastair (23 page)

“She’s right,” Lucas was saying. He had moved to Tahn’s side and carefully helped him ease down onto Tiarra’s mat, as Toddin went to look cautiously outside.

“You are too warm,” Lucas said gravely.

Quickly, Tiarra raised her hand to Tahn’s forehead. Warm? The reverend was remarkable at understatement. Tahn was hot. Fiery hot and sweaty. What could they do for him now? It was fever. And that could be adversary enough, even with nothing else to face.

“Can we cover you?” Lucas was asking.

“No. I’m all right.”

Tiarra felt like screaming at him. Why must he be this way? He was not all right! Anyone could see that he was not all right! If the bandits came, he might even die because of this weakness. Because of her! And he had not even complained against her about it. Not one word.

“I—I know a healer,” she dared to say aloud.

Lucas nodded. “I was thinking the same thing, miss. I can go—”

“Why do you think . . . he would come for me?” Tahn asked them with increased effort. “Alastair would know only relief if I perish.”

“They’ll know the wrath of God if they are truly so heartless,” Marc Toddin said bitterly as he returned to them. “I can find the healer. I’ll get him myself.”

“No.”

“It looks like you’re needing some help.”

Tahn shook his head.

“It will not take long,” Lucas pressed. “And it is sensible that Marc should go. We’ll be all right while he’s gone. And the bandits don’t know he would have anything to do with Tahn. Even if he were seen, Burle wouldn’t know. And I can—”

“No, Lucas,” Tahn interrupted. “He should not go . . . you are no fighter.”

“I can fight.”

“Yes,” Tahn answered him weakly. “But you are no fighter.”

Tiarra wondered how he could mean such opposite words. Perhaps he didn’t completely realize what he was saying. Could the fever have so quickly taken hold? Even upon his mind? She was afraid. Of the sickness for his sake. But also of being without his guidance tonight. She knew that the other two men followed his judgment. It had been the same with Lorne. Tahn was unquestionably the leader.

“I’ll go,” she told him quickly. “It’s not far. And you need help. Surely he’ll come if I beg him—if I tell him of the fever. I’ll not be gone long.”

“You . . . should not be alone . . . should not beg anything for me.”

Tiarra stared at him with her heart pounding in her chest. How could he say such a thing? Did he think she owed him nothing? “How can you tell me I should not! You begged yourself a whipping! My whipping! When you could have gotten on your horse and left me to the crowd. You could have gone back to your lady’s side and been done with this town! And you tell me I shouldn’t get you a healer? You can’t stop me! You won’t.”

“Tiarra—”

“No! I won’t hear it! I know fever! I know it can get so much worse!”

Marc Toddin stood stiffly against the wall. She knew he was probably agreeing with her, probably hoping she would just go and not really caring if she got hurt or not. But he said nothing. She did not realize at first that Lucas had moved now to the doorway, listening and looking out on the darkened streets. But then he spoke.

“There’s someone coming.”

Tiarra had to steady herself against the wall. She had so much hoped that her brother was wrong about those bandits, that maybe he’d frightened them enough on their last encounter that they would just stay away. But he was not wrong. She knew that now.

“One man?” Tahn asked Lucas. “Or more?” He tried to get up again. He managed to pull himself to a sit, but he was looking pale and shaky.

He can’t fight,
Tiarra thought.
He can barely sit upright. He is too sore, and the fever makes things so much worse.

“One,” Lucas was answering the question. “But by the size and the walk, it may be only a boy.”

“Miss Ti!” an anxious voice suddenly called to them from the distance. “Miss Ti!”

“That’s Ansley,” Tiarra told her brother. “One of the street children.”

“Bring him in,” Tahn told her, his voice sounding somehow different.

With trepidation, Tiarra ran to meet the boy as he approached her doorway. She had seen little of the street children today. Glances of them, as the cart had carried Martica’s body to burial, but that was all. She had not fed any of them. And perhaps the food they’d gotten from the young man Lorne was gone now too.

“Miss Ti!” Ansley burst out. “We thought . . . we thought it would be all right since you’re back home and . . . and you’re together. That man—your brother—he told us to tell if we saw men come.”

“Yes, quickly, come inside.” Tiarra ushered him in. The boy tried to stop in the first little room, but she hurried him to her brother’s side. “Tell us,” she urged. “What about the men?”

Ansley looked down at Tahn anxiously. “You—you really done what they say?”

Tahn took a deep breath. “They may say . . . many things. Please answer . . .”

“You took her whipping.” Ansley’s frightened eyes were studying Tahn. “But it’s worse than they think. You look—”

“Please, Ansley,” Tiarra interrupted with her heart pounding. “We may not have much time. Did you see the men?”

He nodded. “There’s a lot of them—with horses. And they’ve got swords. Over toward the tavern. I hid from them. They didn’t see me.”

Toddin moved toward the door to look out.

“How many?” Tahn asked.

“I don’t know. More than I can count on two hands.”

“Are they stopped at the tavern?” Lucas asked the boy. “Or traveling past it?”

“They’re not stopped for long. Two or three went in, to talk to the tavern keeper.”

Lucas looked gravely at Tiarra. “They will try to get him to tell where to find you. Does the man have it about him to refuse or mislead them?”

“Not if his life is at forfeit. He would rather lose his barmaid.”

“Then we have not much time,” Lucas said.

“You should go, boy,” Tahn said solemnly. “We thank you.”

“I don’t understand something,” the boy persisted. “Some folks say—they say you’re evil. Why would you do what you done for Miss Ti?”

Tahn took a deep breath. “Why did you come? Knowing . . . there might be trouble?”

“’Cause I love Miss Ti. She’s good to us.”

“I love her too. She’s my family.”

In her whole life, Tiarra had never heard such words. “Will the men really try to hurt her?”

“No doubt,” Tahn acknowledged. “But you must go.”

Ansley hesitated. “I could hide her. She could come with me. I know some good places, not far, where nobody’d think to look.”

“No,” Tiarra protested. Faced with those awful men again, in other circumstances, she might indeed be tempted to run and hide. But Tahn had endangered himself for her sake. “My brother is hurt,” she told the boy. “I can’t leave him. Except to get the healer.”

But Tahn’s dark eyes met hers. “His words are good.”

“You cannot tell me to leave you!”

“There is no time to argue. You can hide quickly. Away from this house.”

“What about you?” Tiarra protested. “There are too many. You can’t hold them off. They’ll kill you!”

Ansley looked afraid. “He could . . . he could come.”

“How far?” Lucas asked immediately.

But Tahn was shaking his head, trying to pull himself to his feet. “Two of you . . . will be quicker . . . safer alone. Go, while you’ve time.”

“Tahn,” Lucas urged, “they will find this house. Even King David fled when there was need. Even David hid.”

“I don’t know David.” Tahn tried to stand but sunk against the wall suddenly, and both Tiarra and Lucas rushed to his side.

Tiarra couldn’t say a word. She touched her hand gently against her brother’s cheek as Lucas lifted him. She could feel the sweat and far too much warmth. How could the fever have taken hold? How could this happen?

“Marc!” Lucas called. “Do you see anyone else yet?”

“No. Not yet.”

“This boy’s quick to have gotten ahead of them, but we haven’t much time. Better to leave this house while we can. Help me carry Tahn.”

“You mean to follow the boy?” Toddin asked, coming toward them.

“I would still like to get to St. Thomas’s for the priest’s help. We’ve got to get clear of this house. Even if we hide behind barrels or something on our way there, it will slow them considerably not knowing where to look.”

Ansley suddenly stared at Lucas with new worry in his eyes.

“What about the horses?” Marc asked.

“We’ll untie them. Let them wander to find grazing. If we try to ride, we’ll be too easily seen.”

“Sirs . . .” Ansley spoke anxiously.

“What is it, boy?” Marc asked him. “Speak up.”

“About St. Thomas’s. You should—you should know that Micah said he saw the baron’s soldiers there earlier.

Are
they
looking for you too?”

“God have mercy,” Lucas replied.

Tiarra could barely breathe for the tension building in her chest. Only moments before, Tahn had warned them of the baron’s men. What did this mean? Were they truly come because Tahn was here? But there was no time for questions. She took Ansley’s hand. “We cannot go to the church. Or stay. Lead us. Help me hide my brother.”

Marc nodded. “Let me carry him. He’s not big.”

“No,” Tahn began to protest.

“No time to argue, brother.” Toddin lifted him carefully to his shoulder with a grunt. “Go on, boy, lead us.” He turned his eyes to Lucas. “I’d thank you to watch the trail behind, Reverend.”

Tiarra stood still, shaken by the pain in her brother’s face. She knew he did not want to be carried, nor to hide, though she wasn’t sure she understood why.

“If you’re coming, girl,” Toddin called to her, “get your brother’s sword.”

At the abruptness of his words, Tiarra snapped into action. She grabbed Tahn’s sword and held it tight in her hand, but she also hid her mother’s locket in her clothes. And when Lucas was quickly untying the horses, she took her brother’s bag and tossed it over her shoulder. She had no idea what was inside. But he might lose his horse this night. She would save for him what she could.

“How far?” Lucas was asking Ansley.

“The first place is very close. I’ve used it before, when a merchant was chasing me.”

Ansley ran, and Tiarra stayed beside him, leaving Lucas and the big man to follow. Every noise in the distance was frightening. Tiarra could imagine it was the bandits’ horses, too soon breathing down their necks. Ansley had ducked into the narrow space between two mud-brick houses. “Almost there,” he whispered.

Near the next street stood the barrel maker’s workshop, an old building in poor repair. Tiarra wondered if they would truly hide behind barrels, as Lucas had said. But Ansley ran and crouched to the ground. He pulled a board aside to reveal a dark hole beneath the building. Then he dove in so quickly that he seemed to disappear. “Hurry,” he called to her.

But she looked back. Toddin was right behind her. “Go on, girl,” he ordered. “Go first and you can help me guide him in.”

She followed Ansley into the crawl space, wondering why she hadn’t seen Lucas behind them. And strangely she thought of kindhearted Lorne, her brother’s other friend. Would he truly bring them help?

The space widened as soon as she was past the rough rock foundation. It was a dark little room under the structure, just high enough to sit up.

“Be careful getting him through,” she said. “It is big enough for us, and dry.”

Marc Toddin did not have an easy time of it, helping Tahn along with himself through the narrow opening. But he managed, leaving Tahn carefully at Tiarra’s side. And to her surprise, he immediately started back out. “Don’t move from here,” he told her. “Stay quiet.”

“Where are you going?”

He did not answer her, but he took the time to replace the board across the opening. And they were suddenly in almost complete darkness. Only a tiny crack of moonlight showed beside the board, with another far dimmer where a crack in the floor above must have looked upward toward a crack in the wall.

For a moment, Tiarra fought for a breath. It was horrendous to be huddled here in the depths, not knowing what was going on outside. “Ansley?”

“Better to be quiet,” he whispered from somewhere to her right. “You could sleep. Time’ll pass quicker till the daylight.”

“I don’t know that daylight will be any safer.”

Suddenly something warm brushed against her arm. And then her brother rolled full against her with a tiny, choked cry of pain. She wished she had water. Why hadn’t she thought of that? He would need water so badly with the fever. She should be making him drink and bathing his forehead.

“Lucas . . .”

Tahn sounded so far away, though he was right beside her. She could not see his face. “He will be here soon,” she promised. “Maybe they are keeping watch.”

“I want to die, Lucas . . .”

“What?” Tiarra leaned even closer, not certain she’d heard him correctly, yet afraid that she had.

“But I fear . . .”

His voice trailed off. She could not understand the last part of whatever he said. She could scarcely imagine him fearing anything. He sounded so distant. So strangely young. And now he was shivering. She could feel him against her, and she wished she could think of some way to help.

“You need not fear,” she whispered. “Nor think of dying.”

Ansley crawled nearer. “He’s bad off, isn’t he? He’s not talking like himself.”

“No, he’s not.” Tiarra took Tahn’s hand and held it, but she was not sure if he was even aware.

“What if he cries out, Miss Ti?” Ansley asked barely loud enough to be heard.

“I don’t know.” She squeezed her brother’s palm and reached upward to press her other hand against his forehead. “I don’t understand this sickness.”

“Most folks wishin’ to die up and do so,” Ansley said gravely, the fear plain in his voice.

“Don’t speak such things,” Tiarra ordered, nearly choking on the words. “He’ll not die. Nor does he wish to.”

Ansley said nothing more, and Tiarra was glad for it. She did not want to answer him and betray the silent tears she was trying to keep in check. She lay her head down on one arm, so close to Tahn that she could still feel him shivering beside her. What if he did die? What then? It would be her fault. And there would still be the bandits to deal with.