Tahn (38 page)

Jarel bowed his head. “God does not always prevent tragedy, Hildy. We know that plenty well.”

The cook looked at him, searching for whatever words he might need.

Jarel left the window and picked up a large spoon. “Mind if I stir the pot?”

“No. You know I’ve always loved your tinkering. Go on. Spice it up if you want.”

“I don’t understand it, you know, Hildy—how he could accept Dorn so easily. I heard what he’s been through, but the man was a murderer. I know people can change. I know God has reached him in some capacity. But I’m just not sure this is wise.”

Hildy nodded with compassion. “You remember the prodigal son, don’t you?”

“Yes, Hildy. But that’s different. He really was a son. He wasn’t going into a home where he’d never been a part.”

“Jarel, what do you think of that little boy, the youngest one, Duncan?”

“I don’t know, Hildy.”

“Would you put him out because he wasn’t born a Trilett?”

“No. I guess I couldn’t. Not in his circumstances.”

“Benn has seen another side of life, Jarel. You may not be able to stop him from reaching his hand to every poor child or rough sort he finds.”

“There are too many of them. More than we realized.”

“It’s time you realized. I used to tell Benn about the poor. He gave to his church, he said. Well and good that was—the church has been a blessing to Onath. It is a truly blessed town to have the Trilett money and favor. But go elsewhere and you see the drunken men, and the children in the streets. It’s time you looked further.”

He stared at her a moment in silence. “Then that is the good in our tragedy? That he extends his hand to the hopeless?”

She saw the pain in his eyes and immediately moved to hug him. “You may never understand the reason for it, Jarel. But we find good where we can.”

“Like Tahn Dorn? What do you think of him?”

“I’ve hardly spoken to him. He’ll barely let me feed him!”

“I know you, Hildy. You don’t have to do either to have an opinion.”

“Right now he seems a lot like you.”

Jarel bristled. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean that you’re both trying to sort through what’s happened and find the best way to face the future.”

“Oh, Hildy. Everyone does that.”

“Not with the same intensity, Jarel. Or self-doubt.”

“Self-doubt? That makes no sense. Dorn’s already started telling the guards what to do. He acts like he knows better than we do what’s best for us. As for me—” He stopped.

Hildy looked at him kindly. “Yes?”

“I’m the same as I ever was, except that I don’t have my … mother or father or—” He stopped again, his eyes filling with tears. He turned abruptly away.

“You’ve got to cry, Jarel,” Hildy told him. “Don’t try to stop it.”

“What good will it do?”

“Benn told me, dear one, about the nights you spent under that church, staring at the wall and not shedding a tear. I know you’re a man. And a Trilett, at that. But your two brothers, Jarel. Your aunt Ariole and both her boys. Your parents. Gone in a night! Jarel, dear, I’ve seen Benn and Netta cry, both of them, more than once. But you’re the one who worries me.” She left her work and went to put her arm around him again. He let himself be drawn into her hug, still fighting off the tears.

“Hildy, I know the children had nothing. I can see that they need us. But I don’t like having so many in our house. It’s no substitute. It just makes it harder.”

“They aren’t here to replace our loved ones,” she said softly. “No one could do that.”

He seemed pale, and he was quiet a long time before he could speak again in a voice low and earnest. “I miss Mother the most, Hildy. Can you imagine, for all we fought?” He leaned his head into her shoulder.

She felt the shudder run through him and held him tightly. Finally, Jarel was crying.

Out the window behind him, the blond stranger was on his knees by the pond. His weeping was obvious, even at the distance. Bennamin appeared to be praying with him. And Mr. Dorn stood leaning on his staff against the reddening sky with his head bowed low.

Tahn stayed the night with Lorne under the stars while the Triletts entertained the Wittleys in the house. Lorne was ready to go at the first hint of light, and Tahn helped him with the wagon goods so he would not have to disturb Ham or any of the others. They parted with an embrace and a prayer at the front gate, and then Tahn turned to the house. It suddenly occurred to him that he should find Vari before everyone was stirring. He didn’t expect the Wittleys to stay long, but it would be best to use this chance to speak to Vari anyway.

He walked back, his eyes on the big old house, when he thought he saw the flutter of a skirt and long flowing hair disappear over the hill beyond the east porch. It could only be Leah. Netta’s hair was lighter with a hint of red. Leah might be going to the stable, but why?

The wounds of his leg and back still prevented him from moving very quickly. He went for the stable, and as he got close, he began to hear giggling. He knew what he’d find before he went in, but he went in anyway, without warning.

Vari and Leah were in the hay. She jumped to her feet at the sight of him.

“Good morning, Miss,” Tahn told her. “Your father’ll be rising early. You’d best be in the house when he stirs.”

“Yes, sir.” She gave Vari a quick glance and then ran out the door.

Vari lay in the hay, completely unfrazzled. “Good morning,” he told Tahn.

“Vari, you’re too young for that.”

“I’m older than my years. You should know that.”

“About you, perhaps. But not your friend. She’s a child. You should not fail to treat her like one.”

“She’d be insulted. I can’t do that.”

“You will, or you will not see her again.”

“Tahn!” He sat up, clearly surprised by his friend’s reaction. “You have the honor of Christ and the House of Trilett to uphold. Let the girl become a woman first and then court her with the proper restraint.”

Vari’s look was close to defiant. “You’re being my father?”

“You need one, don’t you think?”

“Benn Trilett may be the one, for all his talk of adoption.”

“Go ask him about my words, then.”

Vari smiled and shook his head. “That’s all right. I’ll hear it from you. I can see her, though?”

“If you can control yourself. Keep her brother along.”

Vari laughed. “Didn’t you ever have a girl affect you like that?”

“No.”

Vari looked at him in surprise. “Really?”

“When was I ever around girls who were not afraid of me?” Tahn answered with some impatience. “I never left Valhal without an order. And I can’t imagine that anyone would have wanted my company.”

“That was then,” Vari maintained. “But the lady’s not afraid of you. She doesn’t seem to mind your company, either.”

Tahn suddenly paled in front of him.

Vari grinned. “You really do love her, don’t you?”

He shook his head, but he knew he couldn’t deny it. “Don’t tell her, Vari, please.”

“I think I already did.”

“No.” His heart pounded.

“It’s okay,” Vari told him. “I don’t think it’s bothering her any.”

“When did you tell her?” Tahn asked, wondering how he could possibly face her now. This kind of thing would not be fair to her. He would surely have to leave—for her comfort’s sake. “Was it today, Vari? Yesterday?”

“No.” Vari couldn’t help but smile to see the Dorn so nervous over this subject. “It was back at the cave when you disappeared.”

His brow furrowed in disbelief. “And she agreed to come after me anyway?”

“Yeah,” Vari nodded. “She did.”

“She loves all of you,” Tahn decided. “There’s no doubt. She would have to help you.”

“She couldn’t let a good man die, Tahn. She’s a good lady, and she’s an adult too. You’ll court her, won’t you?”

“No, Vari.” His sadness was obvious.

“Tahn! Why not?”

“You and Leah are both innocent children with a love for the land. The lady and I have nothing in common.”

“Yes, you do! You’ve got us. And Jesus.”

He started to turn away. “Just remember what I told you about Leah. Or if you question me, ask her father’s opinion.”

“Tahn, you can’t ignore your heart!”

“That’s enough of that. Get back to the house and get your brothers around. See that your rooms are straightened before breakfast. We don’t want to make work for anyone.”

“Are you going to come in?”

Tahn just shook his head and walked away.

Benn and Netta exchanged glances when everyone was seated for breakfast and it was clear that Tahn wasn’t coming.

“Perhaps he’s still with the young man he helped to draw toward God last night,” Benn suggested.

“His friend’s already gone, Uncle,” Jarel told him. “I saw them. Mr. Dorn seems to prefer to be a loner.”

“I hope he’s not offended at me,” Kert Wittley said. “I meant to come and repair any such thing between us.”

“I’m sure it isn’t that,” Netta explained. “He’s only eaten with us once, and that was in the courtyard. We were just hoping, because Father invited him again last night.”

“He’s a loner,” Jarel repeated.

“Well, if we don’t see him before we leave, Vari, son, do tell him how well his horse is mending. Meant to say something about that yesterday. We’ll bring you the animal, lest you plan to visit.”

“I’ll visit,” Vari volunteered.

Leah looked at him across the table with a gleaming smile, but Vari ducked his head.

Netta looked at the food and sighed. “I’ll take him a tray as soon as we finish.”

“No,” Jarel told her. “Let me.”

Netta and Benn both looked at him with some surprise, but Benn nodded.

“He’s by the pond again,” Vari told them. He was looking at Netta. She was nearly as pale as Tahn had been.

27

T
ahn was in the woods, sitting with his back to a tree, when Jarel found him.

“It’s a quiet place,” Jarel interjected. “Good for praying.”

“Yes, it is,” Tahn said without looking up.

“I brought you some breakfast.”

“Not very hungry right now, but thank you.”

Jarel laughed. “When are you ever hungry? It’s no wonder you’re small.”

Tahn sighed. “Some habits are hard to change, I guess.”

“Not eating is a habit? You do come from a strange world.” He set the tray down beside the tree. “Still, that’s a better habit than some to keep, I’m sure.”

Tahn looked up at him. “I’ll return the tray myself in a while.”

It was a dismissal of sorts, but Jarel ignored it. “If you’re not going to eat anyway, would you want to go riding?”

Tahn studied him a moment. Such an invitation was the last thing he expected from Jarel just then.

The young Trilett smiled. “You don’t trust me? Come on! What would I do? Try to lose you someplace?”

“I don’t think so.”

“You think you could take the saddle very well yet?”

“I would manage.”

“Well, then, do you want to come with me to the stable or shall I bring you a fine beast where you sit?”

“You don’t want to ride with me. What do you really want?”

Jarel laughed again. “I used to ride with my brothers, my cousins, my friends. Why wouldn’t I ride with you? Just last night Hildy asked me why I haven’t been riding. Maybe I don’t want to go alone.”

“The boys would be delighted for the opportunity. Stuva or Doogan, in particular.”

“I’m not looking for the company of boys right now.”

Tahn knew there was more to his message. He pulled himself to his feet. “All right, sir. But I should greet the Wittleys again before they go.”

“I’ll meet you in the stable then.”