Tahn (14 page)

This time when he turned, he was too far into the darkness for her to see his eyes. He looked like some sort of specter lingering there in the tunnel.

“I was told he was an enemy. I had orders.”

“He was a decent man,” she protested. But she saw Tahn shift toward one wall and knew he was watching her closely. It had been three years ago. Could he really have been only seventeen? “What would have happened had you disobeyed?”

“Whatever Samis decided,” he said with a solemn voice. “More of his punishment. Or I might have been killed.”

“The wheel?” She shuddered inside. It was hard to ask him these things. It was hard to see the killer who had torn her life asunder as a victim himself.

“Maybe,” he answered her with a sigh. “But you would be right to think that I should have let myself die back then. Sometimes I am sorry that I did not.”

A silence hung between them for a moment. She didn’t know how to respond to that. But there was something else she wanted to know.

“Mr. Dorn … please, who is Samis?” she asked at last. “He sounds like the devil himself for cruelty.”

Through the darkness between them, she could see him lower his head. “Not far removed, I suppose.” He turned away again.

“Will you tell me about him and Valhal?” she persisted, stepping toward his tunnel.

“Not tonight, Lady,” he said wearily. “And do not follow a dark angel into the darkness. Stay with the children. As long as you choose to be with us, I thank you for your help with them.”

She caught another glimpse of him before he disappeared into the blackness, and those shoulders suddenly seemed to be carrying the weight of the world.

8

I
n the morning, Netta was determined to do something about the filth in which they were living. But it would have to wait until Tahn Dorn woke, since the water and his separate chamber lay in the same direction. She would not risk disturbing him in sleep. He seemed to get far too little of it.

She ate with the children and began another lesson in letters. It did not seem so chilly today; perhaps she could wash the children’s shirts. They would dry quickly outside in the sun. She would ask first, of course. Things always went more smoothly that way.

They were just finishing the lesson when Tahn appeared. Without his shirt, strangely.

“Mr. Dorn,” she said. “I would like to wash clothes today. If you permit me to have the children’s shirts, I’ll do the best I can with them in the stream below.”

Little heads turned and eyes looked at her as though they’d never heard of such a thing.

“They’ll all be needing bigger shirts soon,” Tahn said. “Would help to have a change for us all, as well. I must see to that.”

Netta was glad he noticed such things. She’d been thinking she’d have to approach the subject soon.

“Give the lady your shirts,” he commanded the children. “Then circle for a lesson, brothers.”

He turned to Netta again. “I have set mine to soak in the water already,” he said. “You needn’t touch it.”

She was rather surprised he’d had the same idea. “Mr. Dorn,” she inquired further. “Is the stream safe for bathing? There are no holes or such?”

“Yes, Miss,” he said. “It is a pleasant bath. I am sorry I hadn’t told you.”

“When your lesson is through, might it be well with you to bring the children to bathe?”

“Indeed,” he answered. “Good thought for them, Lady.”

She gathered the children’s shirts with her cloak and dirty blanket and headed for the water, pleased with Tahn’s agreement. He sent Stuva with her to help her set candles enough to see by. “Remember,” she told the boy when he turned to go back, “I will come when I am finished. You all wait until then.”

“We shall be busy enough, Lady,” he answered.

She would bathe first. The water would be cold, but how heavenly, nonetheless. Then she would put on her dress only, and wash the nightgown she’d worn beneath it all this time. Then, when the nightgown was dry, she’d wear it and wash the dress. Oh, for more clothes! The thought of being seen in her nightgown troubled her, but she could stand the dirt no longer.

She bathed quickly, for despite the agreed upon arrangements, she was ill at ease unclothed. It was not pleasant to put the dirty dress back on, but there was little choice.

She set about the task of washing the clothes vigorously, hoping they wouldn’t fall apart in the water. She scrubbed all the little shirts, her own gown and cloak, and then the blanket.
Where is Mr. Dorn’s shirt?
she wondered.
I might as well do him the favor. He said it was soaking.
But it wasn’t in sight of where she’d bathed or washed. She followed along downstream a short way with two candles. There it was, in a tiny pool beneath a sliver of light in the ceiling.

Outside light. A wonder he hadn’t told her this, either. It would have been easier to see to do the wash here, rather than where they set up the candles. Oh, well. There was still Tahn’s to do. She took it in her hands and started to scrub. No wonder he’d wanted to wash it. The front seemed full of stains that weren’t there yesterday. Something must have happened while he was gone. If the candles had not been so few and dim last night, she might have noticed stains like this, even on a shirt so dark.

She lifted the shirt to look more closely. The water running off it was tinted red. It was dripping over her hands and into the flowing stream. Blood! She dropped the shirt onto the rocks and jerked away.

The dark swirls trailed through the water and disappeared. She washed her hands quickly and then stepped back from the stream. Tahn’s tainted shirt lay in a heap, and she would not touch it again. Had he killed someone last night? Did he kill for the food he brought, or the blankets, or what? Surely he was not following orders now.

“Father God!” she cried. “I was beginning to trust him, to think he had done foul only when his life was forfeit! But what is this? What sort of a man is he?”

She tried to steady herself. Perhaps he had encountered someone searching for them. Perhaps he’d had to do whatever he’d done, for the children’s sakes. But no. He had wanted Vari to join him, and the youth still would not speak of it. Whatever the Dorn had done was planned.

She tied the other clothes in the blanket. That and a candle made a cumbersome burden, but she didn’t ask for help even when she reached the large chamber. “I’m finished there, whenever you need it now,” she told them all as she walked through to take the clothes to the bushes outside. She’d carefully avoided looking at Tahn but could feel his eyes on her just the same.

There is no point,
she thought,
in any confrontation in front of the little ones.
If only there were some way to get to someone who might help. Perhaps a priest. And then she remembered he had promised her a horse. She could scarcely believe she had forgotten that, though her mind was full of prayers for her family and concern for these children.

She had almost finished laying the clothes across branches in the sun when he came out behind her, alone.

“You found the water pleasing?” he asked.

“The water, yes.”

“Temas asked me if you were angry at something.”

She turned to face him. “What did you tell her?”

“That I didn’t know.”

“I want the horse you promised me. I want to leave today. Surely a priest would shelter me. Is there not one in Merinth?” He bowed his head. “Miss, I am sorry, but you must not.”

“Why? You swore to me I would be free to go!”

“It is not safe for you in Merinth.”

“But the priest—”

“He is dead.”

She looked at him in horror. “How do you know that?” she demanded. “Tell me how you know that!”

Tahn tried to turn away from the accusation in her eyes. How well he knew it by now. Always in his dream, there were decent people, angels, or God himself, looking at him that way, right before he was cast to the flames.

“No,” Netta stopped him from his retreat. “I want you to talk to me! I saw your shirt. Did you kill someone last night?”

“Yes, Lady.” He turned toward her again, but she backed away.

“Why? There is no one threatening you!”

Almost he couldn’t speak. “We are threatened every day.” He had to turn his eyes from her. “Were Samis and the Baron Trent both dead, we would all be safer.”

“But last night, why? Who was it? Why?”

“I would prefer not to speak of it with you, Lady.”

“I don’t care what you prefer! You must tell me the truth or I shall leave on foot and take any of the children who will come with me. I’ll not stay here with a cold-blooded killer. I have given you a chance to tell me you are not that. Can you?”

With much effort he met her eyes again. He knew it would have been easier for her if she never knew. “I had heard of a relative of yours, Lady. I tried to find him. I had heard the baron’s men had him and would be passing through Merinth. Last night I would have freed him, but he was already dead.”

Netta sank backward against a tree. “Who? Do you know?”

“They said his name was Winn.”

“Uncle Winn.” Her eyes clouded with tears. “It was his window where you threw the stone. He must have been seeking me.”

“I am sorry.” It was hard for him to bear her tears. If only he could someday be the source of someone’s smile.

“Then you killed—trying to prevent them?” She was crying freely now.

“No, Lady. It was too late for that. I killed the dark angel who performed the deed, the baron’s captain who paid him for it, and the priest who met with them for money and agreed to lie about what was done.”

Netta stared at him as it sunk in. Three men? Because of Uncle Winn? She shook her head. It wasn’t right, no matter how wrong those men were. “My family never asked you to do them vengeance,” she told him. “It is wrong.”

“They were looking for you, Lady. Because they knew your uncle was. Almost I had convinced them that Darin had killed you. Now they are not so sure.”

Something about that made no sense. “The priest was looking for me?”

“He agreed to. Through his people. For money, good lady.

The baron is buying favor. They say he shall be king before the feast of your Savior. And he and Samis seek us far and wide.”

“Then you killed these men to protect me?”

“Yes, Lady, as well as ourselves. Vari and I were seen. Even if we had escaped them, they would have followed and killed all of you. We had no choice.”

“At least for me, please, sir, not again.”

“I cannot make that promise.”

She shook her head. “Why is it so important to you to save my life?”

He was looking far past her into the vastness of sky. “The angel,” he said.

She turned around, following his gaze, but there was nothing. “What angel?”

“The day I killed your husband, I would have killed you too. That was my order. But your husband saw something, a light above him, that warned him of my presence. Because he yelled and fought so hard, I hadn’t time to get to you before your men came up. But before I left, I saw the light again, in front of you. It was an angel between you and me.”

Netta had no idea what to make of that story. She had only seen the attacker and the terrible fight. “Have you seen other angels?”