Return to Alastair (12 page)

“You are the Dorn, aren’t you?”

Tahn was surprised. He hadn’t expected to be recognized in the church. He had thought this might be a place where his identity wouldn’t matter. But it was the baron’s church, and he could not know what to expect here. He nodded to the man. “I need to see Lucas. Please tell him I’ve come.”

“He’s not here today. But he surely knows you’re about. He will seek you if he chooses.”

Tahn studied the priest for a moment and then shook his head. “Why do you also fear me? I have come in peace for the sake of a friend. If he knew I was here, he would be seeking me already. If you know him, you know it is so. Why won’t you take him my message?”

The priest did not even try to address the question. “Years ago, you were part of a difficult time in this town, Mr. Dorn. Some people believe you have come back seeking revenge, and they fear you.”

“If all they sought then was to rid their streets of killers, then they are better left alone about it now.”

The priest stepped toward him. “Those are wise words. But is it your heart in truth?”

Tahn sighed. “It is, Father, and I’ll be pleased when someone here believes me. I seek no one’s hurt. God is my witness.”

“Lucas speaks the truth of you, then?”

“Lucas always speaks the truth.”

The priest nodded. “He’s a good man. But even such a one could be deceived.”

“Please tell him I’ve come.”

“He’s not here today, as I said. I sent him to Tamask with my business, hoping he would avoid you.”

Tahn shook his head in frustration. “Pray God for his life, sir, if the bandits are watching that road! Why would you endanger him, just to keep us apart?”

The priest crossed the distance between them and touched Tahn’s arm. “I didn’t know the danger. Except that you might take him from us, and we need him here sorely.”

“When did he leave?”

“Yesterday. He will be back tomorrow if all goes well.”

“Pray that it does.” Tahn was considering. He did not want to leave Lorne and Tiarra long enough to go and seek Lucas, especially since he could not be completely sure of this priest’s words. He certainly couldn’t send Lorne alone. So he would have to wait, trusting Lucas in God’s hands. He would find Marc Toddin instead.

Without another word, he turned from the priest to go out, but the short man reached his hand up to Tahn’s shoulder. His sudden touch was cold and it made Tahn uncomfortable, but he allowed it anyway.

“Tell me about the burns, son,” the priest asked with solemn voice.

Tahn’s stomach knotted. “Why?”

“I am searching in this town too. I was not here then.”

“But you’ve heard.”

“Yes, I’ve heard.”

Tahn sighed. “You probably know as much as I do, then. Maybe more.”

“Not of how you fared. Lucas said he met you when you were about seven, and you were a tormented child, still struggling with the scars.”

“He tells you the truth.”

“What do you carry now for your enemies?”

Tahn shook his head. “Nothing.” He would have left then, but the priest still held him. “Why do you keep me?”

“I believe you should know that it is better sometimes not to pursue things, not to find all there is to find. You are safer that way.”

Tahn spun around. “
I
am safer? Have any of you cared about me? Lorne was right, I think. You hide something, and it is not for my sake.”

The little priest nodded. “I think of you, whether you would believe me or not. But I also think of Lucas.” The man took a deep breath and looked up at Tahn nervously.

“It’s better to leave the past alone and not let your enemies see you searching about, even after so long. It would be a shame, and Lucas would grieve, should this cost your death. I’m not anxious for more trouble here, nor to see your enemies become his.”

Tahn stared at him. This couldn’t be about the actions of men swept into the fray of an indignant mob. He understood that now. There would be nothing to hide if that were all. Nothing new to find in the search, and no special danger in trying. Suddenly it occurred to him that neither Martica nor Magna Sade had told of any witness to Karra Loble’s murder. Perhaps things were not as they seemed. “When you say enemies, good priest, you mean my father’s enemies, don’t you?”

The man squirmed. “I have said too much.”

“No. I need the truth.”

“I cannot tell what is confessed to me. Surely you know that.”

“Someone wanted us dead.”

“I told you I can’t say.”

“Then tell me who can.”

“I can’t do that. You’re a soldier yourself. You can understand the danger to him if I speak of his confessions. You need only know it’s best for you to go back to Onath.”

Tahn stood still, tossing about the new questions in his mind. Finally he voiced the most important one to him. “Who killed Karra Loble?”

“People say it was Sanlin Dorn.” The priest turned from Tahn’s dark and searching eyes. “You should go. I can tell you nothing more. Leave Alastair, and thank God for the new life he’s given you. There’s nothing you can accomplish here.”

Miles from Alastair, Orin Sade rode his old horse toward the walled mansion that was one of four belonging to the House of Trent. He prayed to find the baron at this nearest one. He banged and hollered at the gate, creating all the commotion he could until a guard appeared and demanded to know his business.

“I need to see the young baron!” he pleaded. “Tahn Dorn is seeking my life!”

The young man scoffed. “What is that to my lord, sir?”

“It is for
his
sake! It is for service to the Trent honor that I stand in peril. It is his obligation to help me. Let me in to him!”

The guard gave him a quizzical look. “Wait here. I will ask if he would see you.”

Lionell Trent stood surrounded by his tailors when one of his guardsmen called to him.

“What is it?” he snapped. “I am very busy right now.” He turned to the man closest to him. “I have to have purple to line my cape. And nothing dull. It has to match the crossed lines in my sash, and I want a roll to walk on of the same color.”

“Sir, a man is standing outside, asking to see you.”

“I don’t have time. There is too much to do preparing for my wedding. Tell him to come back after I’m married.

But not too soon after.”

“Sir, he says Tahn Dorn seeks his life. And he claims he has a right to expect your help.”

“Tahn Dorn, you say?”

“Yes, lord.”

Lionell smiled. “What has the man done? Offered himself as another suitor to the fair Lady Trilett?”

“I daresay not, sir. He seems rather too old for that sort of thing.”

“Did he tell you what the matter is, then?”

“No, sir. Only that it involves you.”

“I have nothing to do with Tahn Dorn. It was my father’s folly to try killing him. Not mine.”

“Shall I send the old man away, then?”

Lionell was quiet for a moment. And then he abruptly dismissed everyone who had been in the room, except the trusted guard from the gate. “No,” he told him. “I have wondered much about the mysterious murderer who now seems to do good. I could scarcely accept that Dorn could be nearly killed by our soldiers, without someday seeking vengeance. I want to know what he is up to. Bring the man in to me.”

Orin Sade bowed gratefully to the young Baron Trent, who waved his hand impatiently. “Get up, man! I have business to attend to! Do tell me the Dorn’s quarrel with you. Were you one of Samis’s men?”

Sade was not sure who he meant. “No, sir. I am from Alastair.”

“Were you the tracker, then? Or one of the archers hired to see that he was caught?”

“No,” Sade told him, still not understanding. “It was I who burned him, on your father’s word.”

“Burned him? I hadn’t heard about that. But when Father decided to blame him for the Trilett murders, it was guaranteed the wretch would suffer. Surprising that he’s waited a year for his revenge, though, eh? I suppose he thought that was long enough.”

Orin stared at him, truly perplexed. “It’s been seventeen years, sir. But I always knew the day would come.”

Lionell frowned. “Seventeen years? Tell me what you’re talking about.”

“I acted to please your father, sir.”

“Yes. You said that. But go on. I was only nine years old then. Was the Dorn any older?”

“No, sir. He was very small. But his father came to kill a woman who had come to our city. And your father charged us not to let them escape.”

Lionell leaned back and folded his arms. “Why did the baron take such an interest? Who was the woman?”

“Some say it was Dorn’s own mother, sir. Karra Loble. She seemed a decent woman. I saw the body. It was a shame, her to be stabbed such as she was. A gruesome thing that was done.”

But Lionell was staring at him, stunned. “What did you say her name was?”

“Karra Loble, sir.”

“By God! And you say she was Dorn’s mother?”

“Yes, sir. That’s what I’ve heard said.”

Lionell raked one hand through his bushy hair and then stood. “Why, then, wasn’t he killed years ago?”

“He would have died, sir, but kin of his took him from the place.”

“I don’t just mean back then, fool! I mean in the interim. What was Father waiting for? Why wait until last year and then make such a production out of it? Gads, he was stupid! Surely he could have found the child and his wretched relative. If Dorn had been killed as a boy, there’d have been no public spectacle from which to spend a year saving face!” He turned to the guard, who stood in the doorway. “Did you know anything of this?”

“No, sir,” the man replied. “Seventeen years ago I was a boy of nine, just as yourself.”

“Yes, I know,” Lionell said impatiently. “But Father might have told you something since then.”

“No, sir.”

Lionell snorted. “It is times like this that I wish he were still alive that I might kick him for all the trouble he’s caused me! I should have been told of this. Karra Loble’s son! Good Lord!”

Orin just stared at him, completely at a loss to know what he was talking about but afraid to ask questions.

Lionell turned to him again. “Tell me, old man. Is Dorn in Alastair?”

“He was when I left there. I don’t know if he still is. He may be tracking me now. I need your help, sir—”

“Yes. We’ll get to that. His father—was he killed?”

“We hanged him, sir. The same day the woman died.”

“And you’re sure—you’re sure Dorn is this woman’s son?”

“It’s been said, sir,” the man answered with confusion.

Lionell took a deep breath. “You burned him. But he survived, and now he hunts you?”

“I know he will.”

“Then it is just a matter of time before he turns his vengeance on all things Trent.”

Orin shook his head. “Perhaps not, sir. His eyes are on Alastair, but no one there will speak of your father. Or any of it. And he couldn’t even tell us his mother’s name.”

Lionell’s eyes gleamed. “He doesn’t know?”

Orin couldn’t be sure what the young baron meant. But he remembered Tahn’s questions and was fairly confident of his answer. Magna, after all, knew nothing of the baron’s orders. “He knows little, sir, except that it was I—”