Return to Alastair (39 page)

But suddenly Tiarra was approaching. “Can I help you?”

He smiled for her and shook his head. “Thank you for your care for me. But it is time I got myself out of this bed.”

“Are you sure you’re ready?”

“The sooner I am moving, the sooner we can go home.” It was hard, just sliding over to sit at the side of the bed. He had wanted to stand, or at least move to a chair. But the pain was enough that he had to stop. He bent with his arms across his lap and waited for the pain to lessen again. Tiarra stayed by him, but she said nothing. He wondered what she would think of the Triletts’ grand home. But he suddenly remembered he hadn’t spoken of it to her. He hadn’t asked her to come with them. No wonder she was so quiet.

He looked up and saw the uncertainty in her eyes. What must she think? That he would leave her? “Tiarra—forgive me—I didn’t tell you I want you to come to Onath with me. They’re my family. They’ll be yours, if you’ll have it.” He took her hand, trying his best to sound strong again. “I have a room in the guardhouse. It’s yours if you want it . . . but Benn may ask you to stay in the big house with his family.”

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“He’ll likely call you daughter, the way he calls me son.”

“Then why don’t
you
have a room in the big house?”

He bowed his head for a moment and then met her eyes again. “I wouldn’t. It didn’t seem right.”

“Why?”

He took a deep breath. “Have you ever killed anyone?”

She seemed surprised at the question. “No.”

“Nor have you dared fall in love with Lord Trilett’s child. It was hard enough to reconcile both in my own mind. I didn’t think I could manage it under his roof.”

She nodded. “You’re a good man. And I never would have thought.”

Their eyes met again, and he smiled. “I like you. You don’t hide yourself.” He knew it was a strange thing to say, but she smiled too.

“Are you sure you can sit up like this?” she asked him.

“I’m going to ask Benn for his daughter’s hand. I don’t want to be lying down for that.”

She nodded. And she stayed by him until Benn Trilett came in the door. And then quietly she left them alone.

If Benn was surprised to find Tahn sitting up, he didn’t say so. He only came forward quickly and sat beside him. “Are you really all right?” he asked.

“I will be,” Tahn told him. “It is better.”

“I’m much relieved. But you asked to see me.”

“My lord.” Tahn had to stop and take a breath to steady himself. “I need to ask you for Netta’s hand.”

“Well.” Benn smiled. “I guess it wasn’t just the fever talking.”

“I would understand, sir, in my circumstances, if you must refuse.”

Benn shook his head. “Perhaps. But Netta wouldn’t. We’ve known all along that you were no typical suitor. Nothing of your background dissuades us.”

“But she lost one husband . . . because . . . because he had enemies. I would understand if . . . if you don’t want to take such a chance.”

Benn sighed. “I intend to make sure that it never happens again. But you’ve seen to most of that yourself, the way you keep us secure.”

“I love her.”

“I know, son. I’ve known since the first I saw you, though I must admit it was a bit frightening then.”

“You didn’t act frightened.”

“You were hurt. And you soon convinced me of your sincerity.”

Tahn closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself past the weariness and pain that made him want to lie down again. He felt so strange right now. Like he’d been emptied.

“You have my blessing,” Benn told him. “I would be pleased to give you my daughter in marriage.”

“Thank you.” Tears filled Tahn’s eyes. He didn’t open them, lest Netta’s father see their wetness. “May I ask you something else?”

“Of course.”

“I asked my sister to come to Onath. I was sure you would approve.”

“Yes, of course I do. I don’t see another option. We certainly can’t leave her here.”

“But she has friends, lord—among the street children. I couldn’t tell her anything until I talked to you, but I . . . I feel it wrong to leave them destitute.”

“Lorne was talking to me about that. We mentioned it to your friend Lucas and the priest. There can be a way made for them. They are willing to help.”

Tahn looked up at Netta’s father, thinking about his next words. Benn Trilett could be very generous, but was he asking too much of him? “I thought we could bring those closest to her with us. I thought I would offer them, and her, my room. But even for that I would need your permission.”

Benn didn’t answer right away. He was quiet a moment, thinking. And when he finally spoke, the words were not what Tahn had expected to hear. “Son, do you feel you have nothing your own?”

“I know I have nothing. It’s been hard—to accept so much from you. But I’m grateful.”

Benn was frowning. “It wasn’t meant to be so.”

“What do you mean?” Tahn asked, his head suddenly throbbing.

“Do you understand what you are to the Trents?”

His stomach tightened at this change of subject. “Surely a vexation.”

“Tahn, I know that you want no vengeance. I think I know what you would tell me of this as well. But you are the rightful heir to everything Trent. According to one of the baron’s own men, Naysius had been disinherited. Your mother was the heir as surely as Netta is mine.”

Tahn shook his head. “There is yet Lionell.”

“But he has no blood link. He holds what your grandfather intended to be yours.”

“I know no grandfather.”

“I know. But nonetheless, Tahn, he made a choice for your mother and her seed after her. Lionell bears a title he has no right to, if the thing were known. What he has is yours.”

Tahn shook his head again in incredulity at such words. “The Benn Trilett I know speaks peace. Not war against Lionell Trent.”

“Tahn, you know I don’t favor war of any kind. But I would help you for the justice of it, if you wanted. Lionell may not be the murderer his father was, but he showed his intentions here against you, and as far as I am concerned, that is almost the same.”

Tahn felt his head swimming. It had been strange enough to learn that he was Trent kin by some means. But the heir? It could only create more conflict. “Please, lord. I want no part of it.”

“I expected you to tell me that. I understand. But still it saddens me, what might have been. If Naysius Trent had not killed your mother’s father and taken the baronship when he did, you might have been born in the Trent house. You would have owned everything. And you might have turned their deeds for good, with your father at your side.”

Tahn didn’t know how to accept Benn speaking such things. They were foreign thoughts, and he couldn’t get his mind around them. “My lord, I would not have you quarrel over anything Trent, no matter what might have been. God has brought us to this day. And I want no more than what he gives.”

Benn smiled. “I should write down your words and send them to Lionell, that he might know his cousin is more honorable than he.”

Tahn shook his head.

“Forgive me if such talk troubles you,” Benn told him. “But I had to be sure of your feelings.”

“I’m sorry I have nothing to offer your daughter.”

“That’s not why I spoke of it, son,” Benn assured him. “My thoughts were of justice for you. But I’m willing to leave it in God’s hands. You are right that we should.”

Tahn wasn’t sure what he should say, so he said nothing.

“I’ll not object if you and your sister bring some of the street children to Onath. But you have more to give than your room. I will build you a house if you wish. Perhaps two. I had planned one as a gift for you and Netta anyway. All I have is yours, Tahn. You know I claim you to my family.”

Tahn never knew how to respond to such words from Netta’s father. Benn loved him. It wasn’t hard to see, even though it was still difficult to understand. “Thank you.”

He shifted a little. It was getting harder to sit without anything to lean on. His back ached, his stomach and head hurt. One of his arms shook just a little, but he stilled it against his knee.

“Are you sure you should be up for so long?” Benn asked.

Tahn took a deep breath. “I want to walk to the church . . . in the daylight . . . and lay this town and all it’s been to me on the altar. And then walk out again and let them see me leave them in peace.”

“That can wait. You look like you could use a rest. Are you hungry?”

“No.”

“Let me help you lie back down.”

He wanted to protest. He wanted to get up and do the things he’d said. But he knew the weakness he felt would not allow it. Instead, he reached for the blanket that had been over him and scrunched it against the wall at the head of the bed to lean on. It was hard to maneuver himself just that much, but he felt some better with the wall to hold him up.

“You’re sure you don’t want to lie back down?” Benn asked.

“I’m sure,” Tahn answered, but the words came out stiffly.

“I should call Netta and the others back in to you.”

Tahn nodded.

“We have double cause for celebration. That you recover. And that there shall be a wedding.”

“God is good,” Tahn agreed. “He’s given me more than I ever dreamed. Even a sister.”

“I look forward to a dinner in your honor,” Benn said. “When we are home again, and you are stronger.”

Tahn said nothing. He hated the idea of gathering a crowd. Even the wedding ceremony, he knew, would be fiercely difficult for him. But Netta was worth that and much more. Being with her would mean accepting Benn Trilett’s ways as his own, at least for such occasions. Because God was in it. God had turned all things for good.

“Let a celebration be for my sister,” he suggested. “To welcome her.”

“A very good idea, Tahn. Very good.”

And Tahn closed his eyes, wondering if Tiarra would welcome such a thought. Perhaps a crowd would not bother her as much as it did him. Surely a circle of faces meant nothing more than good company to most people.

30

B
urle sat restless in the bandit camp with his shirt off and a steaming rag on his wounded shoulder.

“When do you think they’ll leave?” Jonas asked him.

“How should I know? It doesn’t matter, so long as we are ready for the moment.”

“Do you really think it wise?” the young man persisted. “We had to back away from Tahn when he first came to Alastair—”

“We didn’t
have
to! We chose to because we had no reason to trouble him then!”

“Must we now? Can’t we just let it go? He’ll have the Trilett men—”

“Coward! It is worth gold to us if we fight! And we don’t ride to them in the open. We have the perfect place for an ambush. Anyway, we need only stay long enough to strike the Dorn down. Then we may flee to the winds for all the baron cares. The money will still be ours. And victory over Tahn, which shall be sweet after what he has caused us.”

“I don’t know about this,” the young man said.

“You don’t know anything. But you don’t need to. Just do what you’re told.”

“Do you think he’s in the church?”

“Saud searched the church. But why should I care where he is? He will leave by the road like everyone else.”

Jonas hung his head. “The church at Onath took him in.”

“Shut up! I know all about that!”

“But what if it’s true that he’s charmed? What if God’s with him like Lucas told us once?”

“Have you taken leave of your senses, man? He was whipped again! He’s cursed. God strikes him down everywhere he goes! And you’re a fool.”

Jonas did not answer him. He stood for a moment and then turned quietly away. His horse stood with others beneath a tall evergreen.

“Where are you going?” Burle demanded.

“I need a drink. And we run low of the liquor in camp. I’ll go to the tavern.”

“Take two with you and watch for signs of the Dorn,” Burle ordered. “And bring me back a bottle.”

Jonas nodded. Toma and Dann rose to go with him, but he didn’t speak to them. He only mounted his horse in silence and rode for Alastair with them behind him.

“The fool,” Burle muttered to the nearest man. “Quaking in his boots over a pathetic creature like Tahn, a bug God could crush under his boot. Look at all that’s happened to him! If God takes any notice of this world, it’s plain he doesn’t care for the Dorn.”

Jonas rode slowly to the city, ignoring the men at his sides. He was itching for a stout draught, but his thoughts wouldn’t leave him alone. The church at Onath had taken Tahn in. The priest in Alastair had somehow sent the soldiers against them. Had he lied on purpose? Or had God himself worked on Tahn’s behalf?

He knew most of the men would laugh at him and call him a coward, as Burle had done. But there was a weight pressed on his gut over this. He’d watched in Onath as Tahn was dragged from the cage-wagon to be hanged. But church bells—church bells!—had interrupted the baron’s plan. And everyone knew how insane Tahn used to be, hauntingly strange, and especially fearsome at night. But now he spoke of an honorable path, and not dying unmourned. Some of the men had even heard him praying after the arrows had gotten him. Could he be favored of God? Is that how he’d managed to live this long?