Tahn (40 page)

He shook his head in derision at himself. That was a poor excuse for a prayer! He could still remember the grand cathedral at Alastair and the glorious prayers floating from the lips of the priest. He’d been a street urchin then, sneaking into the back pew every chance he got. To think he’d actually dreamed of becoming a priest!

He sighed. The best he could hope for was to find a back pew again some day, just to take it all in one more time.

Lucas stopped at a brook to let his horse drink. He was about to cross the water when he looked down and saw the print of a horseshoe in the soft bank.
Maybe Samis has been here,
he thought. Leviathan was shod, unlike many of their mounts.

He turned in the direction of the track, following the stream, and eventually found another print in the mud.
Oh, let it be him!

Lucas shook his head.
There I go again! Feeble prayers fall from me like an incessant drip. It must be irritating indeed to the Almighty. He couldn’t possibly take me seriously, a lone fool out here hoping to help a merciless killer live a bit longer. I can’t even take myself seriously! God, help me ride off and let him die!

But suddenly he saw movement in the trees ahead. Leviathan. Unmounted. The big horse ignored him on his way back to the stream for a drink.

“Master!” Lucas yelled. He hurried to search in the direction that Leviathan had come.

Samis lay on the ground in the midst of the trees. The dizziness had come over him again, with a crushing headache, but this time he managed to leave the saddle without falling. The pounding in his head was already fading. Soon enough he would get up. But he knew he could not gather men again. Strong men only follow a strong leader. He could not even hunt down his deserters with this curse of heaven striking at him without warning.

He closed his eyes and cursed the fate that brought him this humiliation. But he would not let it get worse. He no longer thought of how many villagers there might be with Tahn at Onath. It didn’t matter. He would find him. And there would be victory, regardless of the outcome.

Lucas found Samis beneath a fir tree and dismounted anxiously.

But the master’s eyes popped open, and he looked up at the young warrior with a frown. “What the devil are you doing here?”

Lucas sighed. “Are you all right, my lord?”

“Of course I’m all right! A man’s got to rest, you know! I’ve come quite a ways.” He sat up quickly.

“Are you sure you’re feeling all right?”

“What’s the matter with you?” Samis snapped. “Just waiting for me to die, are you? Well, you can just wait! I’m fine, and I have no need of you running after me!”

“I beg your pardon then, sir. But I … I thought I could be of assistance to you.”

“Really? What would you do?”

“Anything you say. I didn’t think you should be alone.”

“You’re an idiot!” Samis declared. “I’m better off alone than with your help. I can’t expect you to be worth your spit fighting Tahn! You’ve always been too afraid of him for that.”

“Fear is not my reason, sir.”

“Yes. You actually
liked
him, didn’t you? You were always the worst sort of fool. You fancied I’d be your father. You remember that? And that he’d be a brother to you, he and the others. You were the only one soft enough to hold that fantasy for long. You’ve always been soft. You’d be worthless entirely if you didn’t make yourself so handy. Get my horse, will you? I’m ready to go.”

Lucas stood and stared at him. He remembered very well how he’d wanted a father. But Tahn
was
a brother. There was no way he would be able to help Samis kill him.

“Have you eaten?” he asked.

“Didn’t you hear what I said?”

“Yes, sir. But there’s no hurry. You might as well eat for strength.”

“I have plenty of strength!” Samis pulled himself to a stand against the trunk of the nearest tree. “No hurry? You’re the poorest excuse for a soldier I ever trained. Except that idiot Vari. Wouldn’t kill a dog if it bit him.” Samis laughed. “What brothers you’d make! Have you yet got any kills under your belt, Lucas?”

“I don’t know.” He fidgeted uncomfortably. It was true. He’d fought alongside the others, and he’d caused enough injuries. But he’d never been able to stand there and finish it. Instead he always walked away, not knowing whether those people had lived or died.

Samis was still laughing as Lucas turned away.

He whistled the three brisk notes Leviathan would recognize, and the horse ambled toward them obediently. “You wanted your mount, sir.”

“Indeed. I’m ready to see Tahn again. You should watch me face him. Now that’s a fighter! You might learn something before he dies.”

Lucas watched Samis pull himself into the saddle, and then he sprang to his own horse’s back.

“You with me, are you, Lucas?”

“I want to know something, sir.” Lucas swallowed hard and mustered his courage as he moved to Samis’s side. “Why is the Dorn so important to you?”

“Important? Bah! I’m about to kill him! Unless you wish the chance.”

“No. But I know he
is
important to you, sir. You were hard on all of us. But then you let us go to our own style, or lack of it, so long as we obeyed you. You never let up on him, though. You made him be more disciplined. You got excited at his successes. And the one time he failed, you cut him down more than you would have anyone else with as true an effort.”

“I expect more when I see talent.” Samis kicked Leviathan to a trot.

Lucas kept up with him, suddenly determined. Most of the men had considered Tahn the handpicked favorite, precisely because of the intense way he was treated. Now Lucas wanted an explanation. When Samis finally slowed, he persisted.

“You
made
him be talented. He had to be good to survive you. For me, willing to take the orders and fight was good enough. Why?”

Samis laughed. “You’re not worth the horse you’re sitting on.”

“I know that. But why was Tahn worth more?”

Samis stopped and stared at him, suddenly serious. “Perhaps I’ll tell you sometime.”

He rode in silence for a while as Lucas stayed close. They went through a beautiful meadow and onto a rocky hill. Finally, when Samis spoke again, his voice sounded far away, and Lucas had never heard him that way before.

“I used to ride with my father like this—just the two of us. Of course, I was younger than you are, then. He was such a cutthroat! And a worthy deceiver. But he never dreamed of the power I’ve known. He died alone in a drunken stupor, so they say.”

Lucas didn’t dare speak a word. He had never heard Samis reminisce about anything. Any interruption might be dangerous, or might prevent him from learning something important.

“I left him to join up with the king’s soldiers at Alkatel. Such a good training there. But I was already better than the best of them at fighting sneaky, fighting dirty. We were good for each other, those men and I!”

He stopped and looked at the scene ahead of them for a moment. When Leviathan went on, it was at a walk, and Samis sighed.

“Father was dead by the time I got around to looking him up again. He was a good bandit, but he never cared if I ate or not, you know. I thought he’d have a stash and I’d get one last good meal off of him, after all those years. But I found out he hadn’t been traveling alone after I left. I had a half brother. He took my father’s belongings with him, so I looked for him.”

He turned to look at Lucas. “But you know, they hung him at Alastair for killing some woman. He was traveling with a little mite of a kid. That was Tahn—you remember what a runt he was? I was sure he was my brother’s boy. My own nephew. I spared him because of it. And I had hopes for him. But, of course, he might just be some misbegotten imp my brother was using for the sympathy. Hungry kid, sad eyes. It takes the ladies, every time. My brother would have known that. Father certainly did. It was a game we played often enough when I was a mite. I swore I’d never do it. And I haven’t, have I, Lucas? I always fed you well, never put you on display.”

Lucas stared at him, stunned. It was strange to think of Samis as a vulnerable child. He waited, but Samis said no more.

“Did you ever tell Tahn?”

Samis scoffed. “No! I didn’t want him going soft toward me. It might have ruined what he was becoming.”

Lucas shook his head. “You might have been a family. You might have been friends.”

“What good have such things ever done you? You weary me with your softhearted talk. One would think you were a woman.”

“God help you both.” Too late, Lucas realized he’d said it aloud. And to his surprise, Samis did not react angrily.

“Well! You still believe in that after all these years? I’m surprised you’ve kept that much of a mind of your own. I thought you were a spineless thing by now, swaying whichever way I command you.”

Lucas felt an odd satisfaction. It was the closest thing to a compliment he’d ever gotten from the man.

29

I
t was a cool, starlit night. Tahn sat alone on the bench by the pond. Netta stepped from the house in her coat and saw him there looking out over the water. He’d been so withdrawn since his ride with Jarel. She wanted to talk to him, but she wasn’t sure how to start. A chilly breeze swept over them, and an owl called somewhere in the trees.

She moved toward him slowly at first, hesitantly, hoping her intrusion would not be unwelcome. But he must have been deep in thought. She was less than ten feet away before he heard her.

She jumped when he whirled around so suddenly. For just a moment he looked at her with stormy eyes before turning around again.

“I’m sorry, Lady, for frightening you. I’m so sorry.”

Netta hung her head. She should have been more careful. “No, Mr. Dorn. You didn’t frighten me. I am sorry. I shouldn’t have surprised you so.”

“You should be at ease at your own home, Lady.”

“It would be good to see you more at ease too. I am hoping you will learn to relax. We are guarded, and we are in God’s hands. No one will hurt you in this place.”

“That does not concern me so much as the thought that I might cause hurt.” He rose and started in the direction of the guardhouse.

“Jarel’s thought?”

“My own.”

“You’ll not hurt me. You only turned to see who was behind you. I would have done it myself!”

“That’s not what I meant.” He was walking away, and she followed him.

“It is very late, Lady.”

“I know that.”

“I should get some sleep. Your father asked me to meet with some of the guards again in the morning.”

“I’m glad you decided for that,” she told him.

He kept right on walking, and there was a strange tension in his voice. “I need to settle my heart that you are secure.

It’ll be a couple of days only.”

“Days?” Suddenly she was worried at his meaning. “Then what?”

“Then I’ll tell the children good-bye.”

She stopped, feeling as though her heart had ceased along with her feet. “Why? You can’t leave them! You know how they feel about you!”

“I will visit them. I expect they will insist upon it.”

“And you haven’t told them this yet?”

He turned and shook his head. “I’ve not been strong enough so far. God help me.”

“God help us, indeed! Why would you go? Why, Mr. Dorn? You are welcome here. You are needed here. What do you have elsewhere? Please, explain this to me!”

“I am like a rat in a den of rabbits, my lady. I’ll never fit in.”

“I think that in Christ there are neither rats nor rabbits. We are all one.”

He smiled. “A kind thought. I thank you.” He turned away again.

“Mr. Dorn! I am quite serious. God’s blessings are not for heaven alone. You can receive some of them now, including a home with people who care about you.”

He stopped. “Do you mean you would want me to stay?”

“Of course I would. Did you think not?”

He only bowed his head, but his relief did not escape her. She smiled. “We would worry if you weren’t with us. We would wonder if you’d eaten, if you had shelter, or if you’d run into trouble. We are all God’s family, and you are a part of that. You always will be, Mr. Dorn. May that thought ease your mind.”