Return to Alastair (44 page)

The girl stared at her, not comprehending. “You’re going to trade away your house, Miss Ti? Where will you live? With your brother?”

“I’m going to Onath with him, yes. This house belongs to Mr. Corsat now, the aide to the priest from St. Thomas’s. He’s going to feed people here, and give them a place to sleep. But”—she glanced at Tahn—“if you want to come with me, you can.”

The girl couldn’t seem to make any answer to that, but the little boy beside her turned his eyes to Tahn. “Why?”

“You’re her friend, aren’t you?” he asked. “I thought she’d miss you.”

“More than that,” Tiarra said with a shake of her head. “He’s going to see that we have a place to stay at the Trilett estate. And this house will be for those who want to stay here, so you won’t go hungry. Or be in the winter’s cold.”

The girl seemed to find her voice then. “How many is there work for at Onath? What will we do?”

Tiarra didn’t answer right away. Instead, she turned her eyes to Netta, who for the first time realized the level of Tiarra’s blind trust. Tiarra didn’t know what to expect any more than these children did.

“Well,” Netta answered quickly, “I rather favor children to learn their letters and a bit of sums. That’s hard enough work. Hildy and Ham take care of most things about the house, though it’ll be time to pick the apples soon, and Hildy always asks someone else to climb in the trees for her.”

The children only stared. Tahn gave Netta a smile and knelt to one knee. “What she means is, they’re not looking for servants. Benn Trilett has already given a home to eight orphans. He has room for more.”

Still, neither child answered. Little Rae’s eyes widened, and she seemed to be trembling.

“I would especially like for the two of you to join us,” Tahn told them. “And the boy called Ansley, because you’ve been so close to my sister. I know she fed you. And no one here will be left hungry. That’s why in her absence, this will still be a place to come for your needs. Will you help us? Can you go and tell the other homeless children? Any that you know.”

Jori’s little head pumped up and down, though he never stopped his staring. And Rae suddenly burst forward and hugged at Tiarra’s waist. “Do you really want to take us with you?”

“Yes. I think it will be fun.”

The little girl was in tears. “I used to pray all the time, Miss Ti. I used to pray for you to be my sister and us to move to a house so grand you could dance about and not bump into nobody or nothing.”

“You should see our home,” Netta told her with a smile. “I think you’ll like it.”

Rae wiped at her eyes a bit and then jumped to give Netta a sudden hug. “Thank you!”

But then she turned to Tahn, and she stood very still. “I think . . . I think folks who called you a devil was wrong. You and your friends, and Miss Ti—I think maybe you’re part angel instead. I never heard of this before. Not ever.”

“Will you tell the others?” Tahn asked her again.

And she nodded. “Come on, Jori! Let’s go and tell!”

The little girl went running out, and Netta wondered why she hadn’t given Tahn a hug as well. But the boy gave him a bold handshake and a nod of his head before hurrying to follow her.

They spent the rest of the daylight at Martica’s house or going to the market. Netta picked out cookpots, dishes, wash basins, bedding, chairs, and a sturdier table. Tahn took the time to pick out a pair of shoes for his sister, and Tiarra was speechless with surprise. Then they brought all the food they could carry and cloth for a curtain at the window of the little house. Street children began to appear, at first two others, and then more. Netta or Tiarra explained to each one of them their plans while Tahn helped Lucas try to reconstruct the “stacked beds” they’d seen. Eventually, Tobas had to help them.

“You think it’s time we learned a trade?” Lucas asked him good-naturedly.

“I wouldn’t shake a stick at God’s work, sir,” Tobas answered him. “Nor the protection of Triletts neither. You may as well stay where you’re called.”

Tahn looked out the window. “It’s time we went back.”

His voice was solemn, with a trace of the old worry, and Netta looked at him in surprise. Her mind had been so occupied that she’d forgotten Lionell Trent, nor had she paid any attention to how much of the day was past.

“I’m going to stay here tonight,” Lucas told him. “Because there are children. But I’ll be back in the morning to your camp in case you need me.”

Tahn nodded. “Lorne, stay with Lucas. Tobas and Tiarra, come with me.”

Netta noticed the fleeting look on Tiarra’s face when she knew they would be leaving Lorne behind. But no one argued. No one said a word. They only started off toward the churchyard again as the streets became dusky and the sky grew pink.

At midday Tahn had said there was nothing he could do about tomorrow, but now in the evening’s dim light, he spoke by twos and threes to every guard in the camp. Netta’s father sat a while with Tobas and Josef. Netta looked about for the three men who had gone to market with them, but they and their cart and mule were nowhere to be found.

Tiarra approached her slowly, rubbing her arms against the increasing chill. “I don’t think I’ll sleep tonight,” she said. “Tomorrow is important to us. I feel it in my bones.”

Netta nodded. “It is too bad for the man who died. It truly seemed he had turned his heart aright.”

“Do you think the man called Saud will come with his baron?” Tiarra asked, and Netta realized she hadn’t even considered that.

“I don’t know. I hope not.”

“I hope he does,” Tiarra countered. “My brother knows his face. We could catch my mother’s killer.”

“No,” Netta said immediately. “We don’t want to apprehend anyone now, or fight with them! Please, we need only to leave in peace.”

Tiarra looked up at the stars. “I know,” she said with a sigh. “I just get swept up wishing there could be justice. It doesn’t seem right to leave her killer walking freely about.”

“I agree. But it isn’t our job to deal with him. At least not now. I hope you understand.”

Tiarra nodded. “The man who ordered it is dead, anyway. At least that’s something.”

“Much more than that,” Netta maintained. “God has brought good. For a lot of children. It may seem hard, but if there had been justice sooner, we would not be here today to accomplish that.”

“If we had known justice as children,” Tiarra said, “you would be in Onath. And I might be in a Trent palace, wondering why my brother doesn’t go and court the Trilett daughter he favored at a snooty noble party.”

Netta stared at her. Tiarra was a dreamer. But, indeed, what might their lives have been like if Karra Loble had been able to raise Tiarra and Tahn as Trents? She couldn’t imagine. Tahn as a noble son? With pretty clothes and pampered ways, too much wealth and not enough work? She thought of all the noble families she knew. Every one of them produced men spoiled by plenty, who thought themselves better than the commoners. She thought Jarel and her father were different. But that was because of Christ, and especially in Jarel’s case, because tragedy had made them turn their hearts from ordinary things.

She couldn’t picture Tahn as a noble. And not even the realization that he
was
a noble, by right of the inheritance that should have been his, could change her mind about that. To her, he would always be the man who risked his life for the captive children, who had wept with surprise at the favor of God, and was just as comfortable on the ground as on a bed or a chair.

“It’s strange,” Tiarra said suddenly, “that you aren’t courted by the rich son of a lord. Don’t you like them?”

“No,” Netta answered. “I guess I don’t.” Of course, she had married a noble once. All of the other nobles paled in comparison. But Tahn was something different. His need had drawn her, and his strength had held her. “Your brother is special,” she said softly. “Our love is special.”

“I’ve seen that.” Tiarra grew very quiet. “Do you think his friends are like him? Are they special too?”

Netta smiled. “Do you mean Lorne?”

“Lucas the someday-priest is a wonderful man,” Tiarra said quickly. “I have much to thank him for. But . . . yes. I mean Lorne.”

“He’s always been very quiet. He’s humble, like your brother. They seem to understand each other. We weren’t sure when Lorne first came, because he’d been with Samis.

But Tahn never had doubt of him. And now we trust him with our lives.”

Tiarra nodded. “I rather like him.”

“I know.”

“Do you think my brother would mind?”

“Not if you’ll be in no hurry.”

Netta watched her father rise and return to the church with Josef and another man at his side. And then Tobas came walking in their direction. “Get some sleep while you can,” he said. “There’ll be early rising tomorrow.”

“What is my father doing?” Netta questioned. “And Tahn?”

“We were deciding who would go to the burial and who would not. Most will not. They didn’t know the man, though he seemed to deserve our respect.”

“Tobas, are you telling me there is no plan?”

“Only to defend ourselves if necessary. Tahn has set men to posts for that.”

“But where have the three gone with the mule?”

He smiled. “A long way. And that, too, is for our defense.”

Netta thought perhaps Lionell would not come. Emil Korin was no family member, after all, and if Lionell knew the things Mr. Korin had told them, he wouldn’t mourn his passing even if he wasn’t responsible. But before the morning sun climbed high, she heard a long, low trumpet in the distance. The mourner’s horn. It was a noble tradition in the north parts of their land. She hadn’t heard it in a very long time. But it meant Lionell had decided to give Mr. Korin the customary respect due his faithful years of service. Or else he wanted it to appear so, that he might draw closer without suspicion.

Lucas had joined the priest at Korin’s home, readying the body for procession. The body would be carried on a wagon through the streets, she knew, and whoever had come from the Trents would join them as near to the procession’s starting point as possible. Others who knew Korin would join in as the line passed near them. Netta knew her father would wait till the last, till the procession drew close to their camp and the graveyard.

As they drew nearer through Alastair’s solemn streets, Netta expected Tahn to strap on the sword her father had given him, but he didn’t. He sat on the stone rail by the church steps, watching. He must have assigned Tobas and Lorne to Netta and Tiarra’s safety. They stayed with the women even as the other men moved to places appointed to them.

When the procession grew near enough, Netta saw Lionell. He had a large group of soldiers with him, their horses draped in black. Most of the soldiers were very young men, and for that reason, Netta thought Korin had perhaps been charged with their training. In front of them, behind the handbell ringer and the wailers, was a woman with two young men and a girl. With them were an older man and his wife. Korin’s relatives.

They stopped at the church. Two family members, with Lionell and three of his soldiers, went inside with the priest as the others waited. Only a few from the town seemed to know the deceased well enough to join the procession, but others began to gather near the graveyard’s iron fence.

Sudden ringing of the church bells struck at Netta’s heart. She thought of her mother, now so long dead. And of Karll and all those who had died the night Samis’s men unleashed their violence upon her family. And then she wondered if Alastair had given Tahn’s mother bells. Certainly his father had no mourners.

When the group came back outside, the priest spread another cloth over the body as Trent soldiers stood in salute. The family took their places again behind the waiting wagon, while Lionell spoke a word to the priest. Father Bray returned to his place with Lucas, one at each side of the horse that drew the wagon, as Lionell mounted his own horse to rejoin the procession.

The bell ringer in a black robe resumed his ringing, never lifting his eyes from the ground. There were six wailers behind him, probably because Trent money had provided for more than two. Behind them the family huddled together and moved very slowly. The woman nearly fell twice and had to be supported by a young man who was almost surely her son. Lionell followed them, with his men around and behind him. Townspeople and acquaintances were at the back, and Netta saw her father, with Josef and four other men, move to join them.

Her heart pounded as she turned her eyes to see where Tahn had gone. But he hadn’t moved from the side entrance of the church. It was almost sure that Lionell could not have seen him yet, but from where Tahn sat he had an open view of the graveyard.

She clenched her hands tight together and paced but two steps and back again.

“Come,” Tobas told her suddenly. “It is time to gain the sanctuary’s shelter, now that Lionell is finished with it. Let us pray for the family of the deceased.”

“Tobas,” she exclaimed. “If my father ordered you to have me out of view of what he does, you could tell me plainly.”

“All right, my lady.” He nodded. “That too. But it is a proper moment to pray.”

He took her by the arm as Lorne escorted Tiarra. They went past Tahn on the church steps, and he nodded, but he did not turn his eyes from the scene around him to look their way.

32

L
ionell glanced around him for a full view of Benn Trilett’s men. He had known they would still be here. That was, after all, why he’d chosen to proceed with this ridiculous show. Saud was right that proper mourning tended to turn blame away from oneself. Of course, to be seen with Saud after the rumors of late would have worked the opposite, so the captain had stayed with men on the road just outside of town.

In other circumstances, Lionell wouldn’t have cared who knew that he’d had one of his chief men killed. But he was still under some scrutiny from the other houses. And Benn was here. So he would show the proper respect, even though he considered Korin’s burial nothing but a handy excuse to come to Alastair, where he could question Benn Trilett’s intentions. He’d had no idea Benn would join the funerary procession. The implications of that were troubling. Had the two men met?