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Authors: L. A. Kelly

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BOOK: Return to Alastair
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But if it were only bandits, there wouldn’t have been the worry. What bothered Benn was that the baron’s soldiers swelled the ranks and added to their resolve. There could even be archers among them, which he had no way to safely combat.

He could send Lionell another message. He could even stay right here until Alastair was full of noble guests for Lionell’s wedding. Tahn was anxious to go home. They all were. But any message out was a risk to the messenger, and any attempt to leave was sure to meet with conflict and blood, regardless of the outcome. He didn’t want anyone else injured. Peace practically bid them to stay, hard as that seemed. There would not be such worries with the other nobles present. He had but to mention his concern and they would ride out together in a circle of noble parties. Lionell would not dare to interfere.

He had no easy task telling his daughter such plans. Netta seemed more anxious than the rest of them to get Tahn out of Alastair. He explained things the best he could, but she was not happy. And he expected that Tahn would not be either.

But Tahn took the news better than Benn expected. And that very night, they had evidence of the city’s change of heart toward Tahn, when a group of women came bringing food “for the Dorn children.”

Benn began to wonder why Tiarra had been called Loble after her mother, instead of Dorn. No one seemed to question that she was Sanlin’s child. Perhaps they’d never married. Perhaps Karra Loble had never used the name Dorn. So why wasn’t Tahn called Loble too?

Eventually he asked the priest, who found no record of a marriage in Alastair. But he did find an old woman, Martica’s neighbor, who said the marriage had been in Tamask and Karra had been using Sanlin’s name. But Martica told the townspeople the name Loble for her headstone, and after that no one in Alastair would call Karra or Tiarra after the name of the man they’d presumed to be a killer. It hadn’t seemed just.

“As if they’d cared for justice!” was Tiarra’s immediate reaction. But she sat and cried when she learned that she should have been called Dorn.

Tiarra gave Martica’s house to Lucas to use as shelter for the street children. Tahn gave him all of the money that remained in the saddlebag Tiarra had saved for him. Benn had not minded that. It was, after all, money he had given to Tahn to use as he saw fit.

But then Tahn gave his sword to the priest. Benn thought he understood why Tahn would do it. The sword was given by Samis and represented a life Tahn had never wanted. But still, Benn did not like the idea of Tahn being unarmed, so he gave him a sword of his own. He accepted the gift, but he didn’t wear it.

“Not yet,” he said. “Not here.”

Father Bray hung Tahn’s sword, hilt up like a cross, on a wall inside the church. He knew some might protest. “But let it remind us,” he said, “of how great is the mercy of God.”

Benn thought it an appropriate sign of the mercy God had extended—to Tahn, to pull him out of Samis’s darkness, and also to this town, for its part in tragedy.

The priest hired men to carefully exhume the bodies of Sanlin and Karra Dorn and to wrap the delicate bones for travel. Such goings-on in the graveyard attracted a group of observers curious about what was being done. Tahn was only solemn about it, but Tiarra was angered that people would watch. She even told them loudly to go home to their own affairs, and most obeyed her, but it wasn’t long before more onlookers stopped to see what was taking place. It would be a strange thing, Benn thought, carrying bones with them to Onath. But he agreed that it would be right.

In the days that followed, Tahn mended well. He walked daily through the streets, though never alone, because Benn would not allow it. He still could not trust Alastair completely. Most of the people shied from Tahn, but there were always some watching, and a few ventured forward to greet him, to apologize, or to share a gift from their own tables. Alastair didn’t seem such a city of horrors anymore. It was just a town. With people like any other. Benn wanted no chances taken, nonetheless.

Missing the children at Onath was what seemed to bother Tahn most about not leaving. He talked to Benn at length about their options and finally agreed that the best way to make sure nobody else got hurt was to wait.

Benn wondered what the bandits were thinking and what Lionell Trent was thinking. He formulated in his mind the things he could say to him when they met face to face. One night as Tobas entertained the group with songs around a fire, Benn thought about how Lionell might react if he dared bring Tahn with him to the wedding. Picturing his horrified face made Benn chuckle out loud, and Netta and several others turned to look at him. But he offered no explanation. How fitting it would be if Lionell should have to meet his cousin in his own church! On his wedding day, surrounded by nobles who would all expect him to live up to his promised peace.

But Benn knew Tahn wouldn’t agree to such a thing. Tahn would never care if the other nobles knew of his claim. He would certainly never want their attention. Benn began to wonder about his daughter’s wedding. How would Tahn manage it? How would Lionell react?

Watching Tahn now, surrounded by friends and seeming finally at ease, he believed it might be easy to forget all the struggles. Tahn was sitting with his arm around Netta and had relaxed enough to join in the singing. But Benn wondered what the future would bring. Tahn’s cautions about the risk of Netta losing another husband to violence were wise. Perhaps he understood that Lionell would never be content to let the matter rest. But it wasn’t Tahn alone who could be a target. In his scheming, Lionell might also try to strike at Netta before she could bear Tahn a child, or even Tiarra before she could have a family of her own. Maybe none of them would be safe so long as Lionell lived, unless he had the kind of change of heart that could only happen if he gave his will over to God.

The burden was a difficult one. There remained only Netta and Jarel with him now of the Trilett line. He could adopt all the children Tahn cared to bring him, but he didn’t want to lose any more of the Trilett blood. Yet he couldn’t refuse Netta’s heart. He would let her marry her guardsman-warrior, even if that man had a price on his head and a thousand enemies on every side.

31

W
hat are they doing?” Lionell lamented, pacing his bedchamber in a long robe. A bundle of garlic swung against his chest, but its fumes did nothing to cure his raging headache. “What the devil are they doing?”

“Nothing,” Saud answered coolly. “At least nothing apparent. They camp. They walk about.”

“Has Benn Trilett gone mad? How dare he stay here! Why would he want to?”

“You could send men to ask him, lord. It is certainly within your rights. But there is another matter immediately pressing.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“My men tell me it is noised about that I killed Karra Loble and put the blame on Dorn’s father.”

Lionell spun around so fast he nearly fell. “Did you?”

“Of course. But my point is that we have a traitor who must be silenced before he can cause us more trouble. I should have known better than to leave him in Alastair.”

“Who are you talking about?”

“Korin, sir.”

“Korin? Are you sure?”

“He was the only one who was there. And we told no one but your father how the deed was done.”

Lionell’s eyes narrowed. “Korin’s talking? Gads, man! He knows everything!”

“I’ll have to kill him.”

“Yes! Yes, of course. Be quick about it! Do you know where he is?”

“We are fairly certain he stays with his relatives. After the last report, I was about to go there myself, but you called for me.”

“Go! Go! Before the whole world learns the story!”

Saud bowed out quickly, and Lionell slumped breathlessly against his divan. It was probably already too late. Benn Trilett surely knew what he had in his hands. He was probably plotting the best way to use the Dorn for his own advantage. He might think it sweet revenge for the loss of his family members to destroy what he could of the House of Trent and give whatever was left to his wretched captain.

A gentle tap at the chamber door interrupted his thoughts. He tried to ignore it, but the sound persisted until the carved door swung open and a white-haired woman in flowing robes strode in.

“Mother,” Lionell growled. “I am in no mood for your conversation.”

“But are you feeling better, dear? I was very concerned when you barely touched your pie.”

“Concerned? Mother—you’re a giant’s share of the problem! Why didn’t you tell me about Karra Loble’s son? Why did you dare stop the soldiers’ mouths from telling me? I might have found some way to end this sooner!”

“Don’t be foolish. Benn Trilett and the other nobles have watched you closely. Too much aggression will give them cause to destroy us! Your father’s plans were grandly intentioned, but they have set us back markedly—”

“My father was an addle-brained buffoon!” Lionell shouted. “And you’re like him to think that hiding things from me could possibly work for good!”

“Son—”

“Don’t even talk to me! You’ve made me too angry.”

She folded her arms. “I may have saved your life in this.”

“Get out. Leave me alone.”

“You can’t pursue this, Lionell. We learned that already. You can’t fight Benn Trilett. The other nobles have warned us.”

Lionell fumbled with the belt of his robe and then threw the thing down in frustration. “If I do nothing, all we have is taken away! I can’t let that happen. You’re right that I can’t fight him openly. But there are ways, Mother. To put the blame on bandits, or somebody else.”

“Lionell, you must leave the Triletts alone. Do you hear me?”

“It’s not about Triletts! Don’t you see that? It’s about self-preservation now. All I need is a dead cousin.”

“Your father is dead. That is what this has already cost us.”

“He deserved to die,” Lionell spoke bitterly. “He was ignorant.”

“How dare you!”

“Go away, Mother.”

He turned his back and sat staring at the tapestry on the wall.

“Lionell, listen to me.”

But he sat still, refusing to reply.

“Lionell!”

“You can’t stop what has to be done, Mother. One day, you’ll thank me. When I put a grandson on your lap with no threat to what is his, you’ll look back and bless the day I wouldn’t listen.”

“I pray God you give me a grandson,” she replied gravely. “I pray you live to see him.”

Lionell stared straight ahead and didn’t answer her. And after a moment he heard the click of the door behind her. She had finally left him alone.

Saud went that night to the home of Korin’s family in Alastair. He couldn’t knock on the door, of course. He hid himself in the shadows, hoping for some indication that Korin was still there. He waited through the night, thinking that Korin was foolish to take such chances, to stay in Alastair so near the baron’s wrath. But by the morning’s light, he soon saw that Korin did not intend to stay. Two young men and a girl began loading a wagon with belongings from the house. Still he watched them, waiting. Perhaps he might just follow the family when they left the town and call his men to slaughter them all.

When the wagon was nearly full, Saud found the chance he had watched for. Korin came out alone to the horses. Quietly, Saud crept forward as Korin harnessed one animal to lead to the wagon. He knew Korin hadn’t seen him. He seemed at home here, casually preparing for an ordinary journey.

Saud was upon him quickly. He didn’t care that it was daylight. He didn’t even care if he were seen. He was confident no one would know him in a poor farmer’s clothes, nor dare to lay a hand on him before he slipped away. He needed only to catch the neck of Korin’s cloak and jerk him back enough for one clean slice across his throat. The horse jumped away from them, and Korin sunk to the ground.

Saud stood for a moment and stared down at the man who had been his friend for so many years, so many secrets. “If only the Dorn could be so easy,” he said and then turned away to disappear down the street.

At first, all kinds of tales circled around the town about the killing. Some people said that the Dorn or Benn Trilett’s men had done it, though no one knew for sure why they would. Netta was especially troubled because no one had seen it happen.

“Father, we have to go home.”

“I know, child. But I can’t have you in the middle of a conflict with bandits on the road.”

“Are you sure they’d trouble us? An armed group?”

“I am very sure they’d try.”

Netta looked around her in frustration. “They may try it here.”

“That would be harder to accomplish or explain away.”

“Why doesn’t Lionell just come and talk to Tahn? You’d think he’d want to know if his fears have any foundation.” “You’d think. Perhaps I could persuade him. He might be here tomorrow. Mr. Korin had long and faithful service to the Trents and was close to some of the family. The priest tells me they may be well represented at the burial.”

Netta’s heart pounded furiously. “Father! They may have ordered the murder. Because of what he told us. You know that!”

BOOK: Return to Alastair
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