Tahn (9 page)

Netta cried out in pain and pulled her ankle toward her. It was throbbing from the bad twist of her fall. She looked through the rain around her, wondering what to do. Everything looked so hopeless. Her ankle hurt terribly, and she had no idea how to get help, or even where she was. The location of the cave was a mystery now. A crushing despair hit her as she thought of her family facing the torches and swords of deadly men. The woman at the stream could have no reason to lie. So the kidnapper had spoken the truth. The Trilett home was destroyed.

But they were such good people, such decent people. Did nothing make sense anymore? She turned her face to the sky, the pain like a tormenting flame in her soul. “Why?” she screamed at the black clouds above her. “Oh, God, why?”

Sobs broke over her, uncontrollable now, but there was nothing to answer her but the pounding rain.

5

T
ahn knew the caves. He had hidden the children in a tiny one in the cliffs beyond Alastair and set off alone for the town by night. He would steal what they needed. He had no more money, and he would not take the chance of being recognized in that town he detested, anyway.

A bag of food and a bottle of the tincture were the bare necessities for survival right now. He knew Samis was looking for them. But his hiding had been effective. No one knew now where to look. Once he returned, he would rouse the children, and they would begin to wind their way down to the bigger cave, where they could winter if necessary.

He would give the big cave to the children, he decided. Let them claim it if they chose to. He would stay around if they wanted him to, just to make sure they were all right. He had to do that much.

But he would not get close to them. He would never give more than the rare touch on a little head. And when the children slept, he separated himself as far as seemed practical and slept alone. Whether Lady Netta had witnessed his nightmare, he might never know, but he would not take the chance of it happening again. The nightmare would return; it always did, and he did not want the children to see it.

At the smaller cave Vari was sitting on a rock, cutting up a fish that he’d gotten himself very wet to catch. Some of the younger ones slept. The rest were watching him.

“You suppose the teacher’ll be back soon?” Briant asked him.

“Real soon,” Vari assured them.

“Is he our papa now?” Temas asked.

“No,” Vari said, giving her a strange look.

“He’s the teacher, same as before,” Briant told her. “He’s not old enough to be a papa to all of us, anyhow.”

“But it’s not the same as before,” the little girl maintained. “We’re kind of like a family.”

“No, we’re not,” Doogan put in. “A family has to have a mama. I know. I had a mama once.”

Temas looked at him. “I only had a papa. But he wasn’t good. Not like a family.”

“Family is blood kin, mama or not,” Vari said. “Like Duncan and Stuva.”

“Then what are we?” Briant asked.

“I don’t know,” the bigger boy said. He’d gotten the meat from the bone and was cutting it in strips. “Call us whatever you want. Make up a word, for all I care.”

He pushed a piece toward each of the three who were awake. It would be easier if they could just accept things, he’d decided. It was useless to think of mothers or fathers. There would be no one but themselves to even care, except maybe God.

He shook his head. God seemed awfully far away. He took a bite of the raw fish and leaned his back on a rock. Tahn would watch out for them, and that would have to be good enough.

“Does that taste good?” Doogan asked.

“Better than grass,” Vari told him.

“We won’t eat grass, will we?”

“No.” Vari laughed. He could have confidence in that. “The Dorn, he’s liable to bring roast duck for all we know.”

Doogan smiled, and the other children sat in silence. Vari looked out over the rocky terrain toward Alastair, where he knew Tahn had gone. He would be back soon enough. The teacher had gotten them this far. And he would continue to take care of them, no doubt.

6

O
n her sixth day alone, Netta rediscovered the cave with some dismay. She limped her way toward it slowly, turning everything that had happened over in her mind. She was afraid to face the man again, but she knew she needed help. Perhaps he might let her rest here till her ankle was stronger and then give her directions out of these trouble-some woods.

No sound came from the cave. That wouldn’t be unusual for him, of course. But he had said he would bring children. They must be deep inside.

The water standing at the cave’s entrance had drained away. She leaned against the rock wearily. It was hard to be back here. Just because the man had told the truth about her family didn’t mean he could be trusted. What about Karll, an innocent man?

She looked long into the mouth of the cave, wondering if she should hurry away while she still could, before her presence was known. But how far would she get? And which way?

There had been nothing easy about the past few days. Even with the woman’s provisions, she’d had a pitiful time in the elements, and it wasn’t likely to get better. So with a sigh, she ducked her head to enter the cave. “Lord, give me strength,” she prayed.

The passage was dark, and she didn’t like it. But shortly, she expected a candle glow ahead. She followed the narrow passage by touch, careful not to make a turn in the wrong place. But there was no glow. For a moment she feared she had turned wrong, but then she felt the peculiar hump in the wall that the man had shown her, and she knew she’d gone the right way. She went on farther with dread in her heart. Even when she knew the great chamber was just ahead, there was no light. There was no one here.

She sat on the floor of the cave rock in the depth of darkness. Her throbbing ankle demanded rest. What had happened? Was he dead? What about the children he’d been so worried about?

“Lord, I don’t understand!” she cried. “I can’t find you in any of this. I feel so alone!”

She just sat for a moment, letting the blackness soak over her soul. There was no one to help her. No one. Tears filled her eyes, but she wiped them quickly away. It would do no good to cry. She would have to find her way to safety again somehow.

She got on her knees and began to crawl for the entrance, unable to bear the darkness any longer. She knew there was a bag of candles in there somewhere, but without the flint the kidnapper had carried, she had no way to light them. It would be useless to stay inside.

“Lord Jesus,” she spoke as she crawled out. “The children he was talking about, do help them. What kind of life could they have with a killer for a teacher?” She sighed. “I don’t understand him, Lord. He seemed a dreadfully hard man. Why is he concerned for little ones? How can such opposite things rest in the same heart?”

When she was close enough to the entrance to see the fading light of sunset, she stopped and watched the darkening sky. It seemed strange to be so alone. She wished there was someone by her side, if only to take her mind off her own hurts. She thought of her mother, who had been dead for more than five years. She’d always said, “Seek a way to help someone else when you are troubled, and it will better you every time.”

So in the evening’s quietness, she curled up on the cave rock and prayed for her cousins by name, one by one, until she fell asleep.

It was sunny when she woke, a warmer day than it had been before. How good it would feel to have an opportunity to wash. If she’d had light inside, she might have gone into the cave’s running stream. Or if her ankle had felt better, she might have sought a stream out here somewhere. She’d have to do something eventually. It certainly would do her no good to sit and wait for someone to happen along and find her. Especially not that killer.

But she thought of the days that had passed and was fairly certain it had been a full week. If he was not here by now, he wasn’t coming. That’s what he’d said.

The thought gave her sadness, but she refused to accept that it was for his sake. It must be for those unknown children. And for herself as well. It was hard, feeling so helpless and lost.

She hung the blanket and her cloak over bushes to air out. She was nearly out of food, with no idea how to get more. The woman with the dog had all but begged her to leave. She’d been kind enough but afraid for her children. And anyone else she managed to encounter might be the same way. Or far worse.

“Help me trust you, Lord,” she said aloud, “that I will be reunited with my family soon.” Her eyes misted, but she willed the tears away. To rest her ankle, she sat against a tree near the cave and gazed up at the vivid blue sky. Today everything looked so crisp and clear. How could a world of such cruelty be so beautiful?

When she looked down again, there he was, standing in front of her. The kidnapper and killer. His long hair was tossing about in the autumn breeze.

“I am glad that you stayed,” he said quickly.

He was alone. No little ones by his side. Had he lied about that after all?

“Has anyone been here?” he asked her.

She shook her head. She couldn’t speak to him for the lump in her throat. Fear and uncertainty overwhelmed her again.

“Do you deceive me?” he suddenly asked, a touch of anger in his voice.

“No!” she cried out. “What do you want from me?”

He pointed to the blanket on the bush. And then she understood. It hadn’t been here before.

“No one was here,” she stammered. “I—I tried to go. I found a farm a long way from here. A woman gave me the blanket and food but was afraid to let me stay. I got lost. I hurt my ankle. I found my way back …” She watched his eyes. What would he do if he didn’t believe her?

He walked to her side and pointed down at the leg she held straight out in front of her. She nodded, and he knelt and pulled her skirt back enough to examine her ankle. When he looked up at her again, the anger was gone. He eased her shoe off and then stood up. “Have you seen anyone else?”

“No.”

He whistled. She was expecting Smoke to come bounding out of the underbrush, but he didn’t come. After a moment, the leaves began rustling, and then a dirty face appeared out of the bushes. And then another. And another. And then the rest all at once, eight of them in all. Stunned, she just stared.

“Is that our cave?” a child asked.

“Indeed,” the warrior answered.

“Can we go in?” There was excitement in the voice but with reserve unusual in a child.

“When I get the torch lit.”

They all appeared to be boys. One of them walked up to Netta with wide eyes. “You’re pretty,” the child said.

“What’s your name?” Netta asked.

“Temas.”

The child ducked his head shyly. Or was it a
her
? Netta couldn’t be sure.

They were all filthy, which, she reminded herself, she was as well. They were also a skinny lot, without a smile among them.

When the dark warrior had the torch prepared, he moved to the cave entrance, and all of the children followed him in. But Netta didn’t move. She knew she must think about this. She must pray. She didn’t want to stay. But she didn’t want to go.

After many minutes, he came back for her. “I have to leave them,” he said. “I’ll be back by daylight tomorrow. I would that you rest inside with them.”

He didn’t wait for an answer. He just picked her up and carried her in, holding her until he had to set her down to navigate the narrow passage. “You can walk?” he asked.

“Yes.”

He took her arm anyway, as if he wasn’t so sure, and led her the rest of the way to the main chamber. It was lit again with candles, and incredibly, the children all sat in a circle, as silent as the stone around them. He pointed at each of them in turn, saying their names. “I have told them we shall have a lesson,” he said. “And then they must rest.”

He lifted the water pail and turned toward the sound of running water. “Vari,” he said. “Let me show you the stream.”

The biggest boy rose to go with him. Vari was almost as big as the man but definitely younger, and he walked with a barely perceivable limp.

None of the rest of the children moved an inch. Netta was amazed by that. No questions? No exploring? They were so young. What kind of hold did he have on them that they should not even act like children?

When the strange man returned, his hair was dripping wet. He held the pail of fresh water. Vari was behind him, his hands studying the cave passage.

Their teacher brought the pail and set it in the middle of the circle. “From the youngest,” he said, and all the children rose to take a drink in their due order.

Netta could see fear in their faces. Was he hard to them? Why were they with him at all?

As soon as they had all drunk, he separated them into pairs of unequal size. “You who are the smaller, you have been traveling a long time,” he told them. “Suddenly a threatening stranger appears. You who are taller, the stranger is you. Now, traveler, what do you do?”

“Am I alone?” Briant asked.

“Good question,” the teacher responded. “You are alone and unarmed except for a knife. Your opponent is armed likewise.” He pulled eight short sticks from a pocket and tossed one to each child.