Tahn (3 page)

Tahn knew she was studying him, but he kept his attention carefully on the papers before him. Samis wanted her brought directly to Valhal, as though he considered the Trilett heiress some sort of prize. Anger churned in Tahn as he thought of the terrible fate of another woman Samis had brought to Valhal for himself. It must not be so for the lady.

He read the order that he was to leave her with Darin, return to the town, and torch the rectory where the Triletts were beloved. That being accomplished, he and Darin were to escort her together to Valhal. He grimaced, knowing the risk of what he would have to do. Netta Trilett was only one part of his crucial plan. He must somehow return to Valhal without suspicion. These orders, this trouble with Darin, could jeopardize any chance of freeing the children. But he’d had no choice but to stop here, or Samis would know already of his betrayal.

The big man stomped back in. He knelt in front of Netta, jerked the scarf away from her mouth, and poured the water at her gruffly. “There ya go,” he said. “All satisfied.” He set the water down and turned to Tahn with a smile. “You best be going. You got your orders.”

The lady looked at them both with fear.

“I’m not going,” Tahn told him. “You are.”

“Can’t,” Darin replied instantly. “It’s the order. You’re not that much the fool, and neither am I.”

“When I took this assignment,” Tahn maintained, “Samis gave me charge concerning this girl, and I pledged my life over it, before any of us knew how wily she is. I will not risk failure at that charge by leaving her with some oaf who might let her escape for lack of watchfulness.”

“Let her escape? I have far different things in mind.”

“Indeed. But once you’re satisfied, you ox, what shall keep you from rolling over to sleep in your bliss? I’ll not take that chance.”

“You will,” Darin told him, “or face the wrath of Samis.”

But Tahn shook his head. This had to work. “I cannot begin another order until this one is completed. I must personally bring her to him.”

“You will, idiot, after you torch the rectory.”

Lady Netta gasped. And Tahn was saddened for her. A dreadful thing to hear, and better had she never known. “The wrath of Samis would be worse over the loss of his prize,” Tahn insisted, “than it would be over a simple change of plan. Anyone can light a fire. But I will not trust anyone else with this wildcat. I told you she’s wily.”

“Don’t seem so to me.”

“She’s resting.”

“I won’t change the order,” Darin growled.

Tahn faced the bigger man with absolute determination. He drew his sword. “I’m changing it. I will explain the matter to Samis myself. He is not so unreasonable in the face of necessity. Now go!”

Tahn knew Darin had no desire to fight him. There were few now who would risk Tahn’s speed and skill. He was barely bigger than the girl he’d carried in. But he was feared.

“All right,” Darin relented. “It’s certainly no part of the orders that we be fighting among ourselves. Let me help myself to the lady first, and I’ll go and do your job for you.”

But Tahn stepped forward. “I told you. Business comes first. You can have your fill when you get back. Make sure you are not seen.”

Darin took his coat and his liquor and left the cottage with a curse.

Tahn knew that the lady was watching him in fear. But he was not ready yet to turn his attention to her. He sheathed his sword and stood by the window waiting. The big man’s horse responded quickly to his impatient whistle, and then Darin disappeared into the darkness on his way to town.

After a silence that hung on the place like a heavy cloud, Tahn turned from the window toward Netta. Even in the dim light, it was obvious that she was crying. And no won–Kelly_ der. Her life would never be the same after this night. He stepped toward her, and she backed to the corner again on her knees.

“Don’t touch me.”

For a moment Tahn stopped. Of course she would react this way. What else could he expect?

“Jesus,” she whispered.

He shook his head sadly. “It is no wonder you are loved. You hold your faith in trying times. May you gain by it.” Those were painful words to speak. Brutal to a heart without hope.

Netta scooted backward, trembling. What sort of creature was this? “Don’t touch me,” she pleaded again.

For a moment their eyes met. He took another step forward, and she had nowhere to go as he pulled a knife from his clothes. “I have to,” he told her, “to do this.”

He leaned forward and carefully cut the rope at her wrists.

The gesture surprised her. But the comfort of it was lost in her pain. “Why?” she screamed at him suddenly. “My family! The rectory! Why are you doing this?”

He didn’t answer. He only leaned down for the skin of water and took a long drink. She bolted for the door. But he was ahead of her quickly, stopping the door with his boot.

“Don’t, Lady,” he said. “Please. If one of the others were to find you, it would not be well.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that Samis will have you hunted. People know your name and your face. It would be hard to stay safe alone.”

Safe? As though she could consider herself that now. This one was a killer. And the other would be back with an animal drive. She started screaming, hoping someone were near enough to hear.

He took her arm. “I doubt there’s anyone close enough.”

She started to struggle against him. “Let me go!” she cried. She kicked at him and fought like the wildcat he’d called her.

But he grasped both of her arms and shook her hard. “Listen to me!” he said and pushed her against the rough door. “Where would you go? Home? The soldiers of Samis are there by now, with swords drawn and torches ready. Darin goes to burn the rectory. And any friend who shelters you now has endangered his own life.”

She sobbed violently and then sank to the floor. Could it be as he said? Was her world now gone?

She looked up at his face for a moment and could not read what she saw there. Her heart pounded with fear for her family and the good priest. “Lord, God,” she prayed, “a building is but wood and stone, but spare the lives of those that dwell therein. Protect them from the violence of those that seek their hurt. Deliver them from the flames!”

Tahn stood over her, listening to the prayer. When she mentioned flames, he shook his head. Flames were the forte of this woman’s God, were they not? The ultimate punishment. The fate of killers such as himself. More than anything else, that thought shook him. But he would not bow to it now.

Perhaps she needed some hopeful words that at least the holy persons in the rectory could be unscathed. “Darin won’t be taking the time to lift his sword, Lady,” he assured her. “And it may be that he will fail in his quietness as usual and give them ample time to save the place.”

“What about my family?” she asked.

He knew he could give her no comfort there. But she had asked, and he must be honest, whether she believed him or not.

“I don’t give your home a hope,” he answered gravely. “Nor the family either, unless they are far and wide seeking you.”

Netta bowed her head.

Horrible I am,
Tahn thought.
Speaking horrible things.
He stood for a moment, knowing her turmoil. He had come into her life again, bringing pain and loss. But there was no helping it. He lifted her carefully and carried her back to the straw tick. She was so young and beautiful, with her rich, auburn hair and gentle features. She shook with fear at his touch.

“You should rest while you can,” he said with a faraway solemnity. “We will ride again by morning, and it will be a hard day ahead.”

He stretched himself out on the tick beside her but made no move to touch her again. They would only wait now until Darin came back, because if they left before that, Darin would run to the soldiers of Samis and tell of his treachery. The thought of what he must do burdened him, and he sighed. But for the lady, for the little ones, he had to try.

Netta sat tensely beside the silent young man.
Perhaps he will fall asleep,
she dared to hope.

“I know it’s a hard thing,” he said to her then. “But I’m all you’ve got, Lady. I can’t let you go yet, do you understand? You don’t know from what it is I’m trying to spare you.”

She stared at him, knowing she could not believe him. He had told her he would not let the big man hurt her, but he had given the man permission to do all he wanted at the dread hour of his return. He had said he would not obey the orders when they came, but he had insisted to the man that they were foremost in his mind.

“You are a liar,” she told him boldly.

“I am what you say I am,” he answered her. “When I need to be.”

Tears stung her cheeks again, and she rubbed her sore wrists. There seemed to be no answer here. Even unbound, she knew she could not escape him so long as he was awake.

“Water?” he asked.

She shook her head.

But he leaned for the waterskin and handed it to her. “You should drink. You’ll be wanting your strength. Are you hungry?”

“No.” She lifted the water and drank just a sip.

Tahn looked at her silky hair and thought about Karll and his new bride. It was the only time he had failed to have the surprise on any victim. And it was not his own fault. He knew he’d not been seen. He knew he’d not been heard. But he had noticed a burst of light above Karll’s head, and the young man had whirled about as if warned by some unseen being. Otherwise, the Lady Netta too would have died that day. In buying time with his struggle, Karll had saved his bride.

Netta returned to anxious prayer. Tahn watched her lips move and the tears well up in her eyes. He could remember plainly her anguished scream. And her lover’s last words:
“By Jesus, don’t hurt her!”

He shook his head. That night still haunted him, but there was no more sense thinking of it than of the flames.

He didn’t sleep or even close his eyes. Instead, he rose to the table, knowing she wouldn’t lie down as long as he was there. “Rest,” he told her again. “And don’t fear Darin. It is not bliss that awaits him here.”