Tahn (13 page)

Tahn had saved his life. Tahn understood him better than anyone—how he couldn’t bear the thought of killing, how he hated even the fight, no matter how necessary it might be. Tahn knew that. He knew it all. But he’d asked him anyway. Tahn had killed anyway. And he’d had no choice.

It was a trap they were in. A huge and terrible trap that encompassed everyone and everything they knew. Even the lady, with all her talk about a God who provides, was trapped in this bloodshed and pain. She might not ever know her loss. Tahn had forbidden him ever to tell her what he had tried to accomplish for her in Merinth tonight. But she would bear the loss just the same. It seemed that God had provided nothing but death for the Trilett name.

He sat up and brushed the hair back from his face.
God, we just want to be safe! We just want to be left alone! Can’t you see that? What do you want? Why does everything have to be so hard?

He plunged his hands into the icy stream and brought them up dripping to his face. “I wasn’t supposed to live like this,” he said aloud. “Mama prayed over me every night.” He shook his head. Mama had taken fever, and it had killed her quickly. What had her prayers ever won for her?

He could still picture her kneeling by her bed, her gentle voice reciting the Lord’s Prayer.

“Keep your faith,”
she’d urged him.
“We may be poor, but God will provide.”

Netta Trilett seemed so much like her. So much so that he didn’t even want to go back to the cave. There was such a tightness in his head, such a heat. Maybe he should just lay back down here and soak up the night’s coolness.

But Tahn had said to go straight back. Straight back, no delay. Vari looked up at the starry sky, knowing Tahn would be in Merinth gathering food for the children and making sure no one followed them. He pulled himself to his feet, still feeling a gnawing ache in the pit of his stomach.

He would die for me,
Vari reasoned.
There should be someone willing to do the same for him.
He grabbed at the horse’s reins and struggled back into the saddle.

His mother’s words jumped into his mind.
“Jesus died for you.”
She’d said it only the day before she left this world forever. She’d spoken with such certainty. And he’d been so young. Only eight. But she seemed to expect him to understand, to take away the message just like that and never stray from it.

“You don’t know where I’ve been, Mama,” he said to the stars. “You don’t know what life is like for me now.” He gave the horse a gentle kick, and they moved slowly through the trees. “I can’t help it,” he whispered.

It would hurt Mama to see him now. It wasn’t easy, thinking of her. It always made him sad, knowing he was failing her so miserably.

He rode on, wondering if the lady would be up watching for him. It was a wonder she stayed around, considering what Tahn had told him. She was a strange one. Noble born. It was a wonder she didn’t despise them all.

The cave was quiet as he neared it. He slid from the horse slowly, still feeling weak in the knees. Maybe they were all asleep. Maybe he wouldn’t have to talk to anyone.

He leaned on the rock at the cave entrance and took a deep breath. He couldn’t think of any way this night could have been different.
God help us!

He felt his way in carefully, shaking his head at himself as he went. What right could he have to pray? Leave that to Lady Trilett, or someone else who was sure what they believed.

As he entered the cave’s large chamber, he immediately saw the lady sitting beside a candle, praying. Just like Mama. It angered him, and he wasn’t even sure why.

“Vari?” she said quietly.

“I need to sleep,” he answered her abruptly. His hands were shaking, and he fumbled with a pocket. The little bottle. Tahn had left it with him. He drank and lay back against the cave floor. It’d been a long time since he’d had a mother, and he’d certainly never asked for another one. What business did she have waiting up like this?

“Vari?” she tried again. “Is everything all right?”

“Leave me alone.”

Netta sighed. The thought of him with that bottle in his hand plagued her. Just a boy. She spoke to him with a quiet voice. “I told you about our Savior, that he heals. He can heal inner hurts too. Even your dependency.”

He closed his eyes. “The world is full of hurts, and he’s the one who made it. Maybe he
can
heal, Lady, but he doesn’t for us.”

Thirteen, and he looks like he’s thirty!
her mind exclaimed. And Tahn, just past a child himself, seemed almost an old man sometimes.

“Vari,” she persisted. “I believe he’s willing. But he wants us to want his help.”

He rolled to face her. His eyes looked so strange. “You don’t know what I’ve wanted, do you? God should know, but I don’t think he’s listening.”

She was quiet for a moment, unsure how to address the level of pain she was seeing. “Vari, he loves you.”

“You can’t know that for sure.”

“Yes. I can. His holy Bible tells us God loves us.”

Vari sighed. “I partly believed Samis, that there’s no God. I don’t guess God would be well pleased in that. But what does he expect? There’ve been times I prayed, Lady. And God didn’t care to pay much notice.”

She took a deep breath. “Did you pray on the wheel?”

He looked at her with angry eyes. “Yeah. Wouldn’t you?”

“You’re alive, Vari. Because God listened.”

He sat up slowly.

“God wants to help you,” Netta continued. “He wants to heal you. He loves you so much, Vari! All of you.”

“Are you sure, Lady?” he questioned, his eyes looking deep and tormented. “Does God love the Dorn?”

Netta stared at him for a moment, feeling almost as though she’d been slapped. But then she nodded assent. “Yes. He does. You must understand that God does not always like what people do. He does not like the killing. But God loves the people anyway. Even the Dorn.” Saying it was powerful. She felt the bitter hurt in her beginning to wash away. Tears filled her eyes.

“He told me tonight that he killed your husband,” Vari said solemnly. “He told me that you would hate him forever, and I just need to understand and accept that. But he’ll let you stay with us as long as you need to. He wants you to be safe.”

She bowed her head. Tahn Dorn was a strange man indeed. With a depth of soul she hadn’t seen at first. “I—I don’t hate him,” she said. “I wanted to once, but I can’t. Not when I know how God loves all of you. Please, Vari, give God a chance to help you.”

He was quiet for a very long time, thinking about Mama kneeling by the bed. She would want him to pray. If she were here, she would agree with the lady. She would say it was time he tried again. Slowly Vari nodded and somberly began her prayer. “Our Father, which art in heaven …”

Netta was clearly surprised but quickly joined him in his flawless recital of the Lord’s Prayer. “Where did you learn that?” she asked when they finished.

“From my mother. Back in another world. I didn’t believe in God’s love much after she died, but if you and God don’t hate the Dorn, maybe it’s real. And maybe I got a chance too.”

She touched his shoulder gently. “He never turns away those who call on him. When did you lose your mother?”

“A long time ago,” Vari answered quietly. “I was mad at God then.”

“Maybe you should talk to him about it.”

“Maybe. But I’m not sure how.”

“Do you want me to help?”

Her question made him quiver inside, and he knew he should respond quickly. He should be a Christian, like Mama wanted. He couldn’t deny that God had helped her. She’d had more peace than anyone he’d ever known.

He swallowed hard and looked into Netta’s eyes. “Do you know a lot of prayers?” he asked. “I need one that’ll tell him I’m going to trust him again. He wants me to claim him, and I’m going to try. We need God to take care of this mess we’re in, don’t we?”

“Yes,” she told him. “And I thank God for giving you a faithful mother.”

Vari bowed his head. “I don’t understand him, you know,” he said quietly. “Not at all. But that’s not important, I guess. Mama just trusted.” He looked up at the lady but thought of his mother somewhere, perhaps smiling down. “Go ahead and pray, Lady. I think I need this now.”

An hour later Vari finally slept, looking so peaceful. Netta couldn’t help but thank God for what he’d done.

But then she remembered how Tahn had looked when he left. God had used him, that was clear, to save these children and give them a hope. She’d accused him of not caring, but Vari had been right. There was more care in him than she’d imagined, or he would never have attempted to take on these little ones and their needs.

She lay down against a cool rock, thinking of the night Tahn had stolen her away. He could be so fierce. Had the Dorn ever known a mother’s love? Or was that godless Samis the only guide he’d ever had?

Just before sunup Tahn returned. Once again, he made no sound. Maneuvering the narrowest part of the passage with a bag over his shoulder and a bundle under one arm, he hoped no one was awake yet. He was so tired.

But he wasn’t surprised to find Netta sitting up. He’d come to expect it. But this night, the fewer words between them, the better. He walked just close enough to set his bundle of blankets down at her feet.

“I’m sorry there are only two,” he said without looking at her. “I will get more tomorrow.” He set the bag down. “The food,” he explained and turned quickly toward his tunnel to the cave depths.

“Mr. Dorn?” she called after him.

He stopped and stood still in the darkness.
What will it be this time?
he wondered with a heavy heart.

“Thank you.”

He turned to her slowly. “For what, Miss?” he asked. He avoided her eyes.

“For the blankets,” she said. “And the food. Trying to help these children. Saving Vari’s life. And mine.”

“It was all needful,” he answered simply. “Like I said, I’ll get more blankets tomorrow. For now, they’ll have to share. Thank you for sharing yours with the little ones.” He turned away.

“Wait!” she called again and then hesitated. “I need to know, Mr. Dorn,” she said with her voice suddenly quivering. “I … I need to know … Why did you kill my husband?”