In fact, he didn’t seem to know how to talk to her, but stole serendipitous looks at her from time to time. Jarrett wondered if he had ever truly believed that he would have the pleasure of meeting her, of having her here with him, safe behind Temerian walls.
Farad demanded an accounting of their journey. Jarrett allowed Kendrick and Muzik to fill it in. Muzik loved to tell a tale, and Kendrick loved to correct him. That allowed Jarrett to focus on the woman he loved and the man he worshipped.
“Lord Haldane, if I might be so bold, how long have you lived here in Temeron?”
Tash seemed relieved by the change of topic. “I moved here about ten years ago. My wife died and there didn’t seem to be any reason to stay in Zelan. Thalandar asked me to come to Temeron, so I did.”
Jarrett felt Tyla drawing the conversation from him.
“I had a letter by post the other day from Lawyan. He wanted to know if we’d received word about you. We’ll need to send him a letter tomorrow. He was getting worried.”
Jarrett laughed and reached for his wine glass. “I think it’s more likely that Shad was getting worried.”
Tash shared his laugh and the tension eased. “You’re probably right. That sounds more like Shad.”
Jarrett felt Tyla’s eyes on him and he met her look. She was searching his face for something, but she wouldn’t let him know what it was. He gave her a quizzical look, but she didn’t enlighten him. He was distracted a moment later by Kendrick’s description of Kalas.
“He’s completely under Rarick’s control, mad with it,” said the Nazarien. “When we last saw him, he was in a daze as if he couldn’t formulate his own thoughts. He’s entirely Rarick’s puppet now.”
Jarrett felt Tyla tense.
Tash leaned forward. “What’s he saying?” he asked.
Jarrett’s hand tightened on the wine glass, but he translated for Tash. Tyla lowered her head and stared at her plate, but Tash simply tsked and shook his head. “Such a shame. Talar went to such trouble to save that boy. Such a shame it had to end like that.”
Jarrett reached under the table and found Tyla’s hand. He half expected her to pull away, but she gripped his fingers in return.
Farad seemed aware of Tyla’s reaction and reached for his wine glass, holding it in the air. “I would like to make a toast to Tyla Eldralin,” he said in Nevaisser. “We have all waited anxiously for this day, but now that it’s arrived, we are more than grateful to have Talar Eldralin’s daughter returned to her people. Welcome home, Tyla. Welcome home.”
Jarrett lifted his own glass, but he noticed that Tyla didn’t move and her hold on his hand grew tighter. ‘What is it?’ he thought, but she didn’t respond. Her eyes darted around the table, finally coming to rest on Muzik. The captain shared a puzzled look with Jarrett, but Jarrett didn’t have an answer for him. She’d blocked him from her thoughts once again.
* * *
Tyla stood looking out over the forest beyond the Stravad Leader’s house. The back porch stretched away into the shadows, but torches just outside the door illuminated the lawn and the very edge of the trees that flanked the back of the property. Tyla could hear the sound of a stream in the distance.
She glanced over her shoulder when the door opened. Her grandfather, followed by Jarrett, stepped out. She turned to face her grandfather, taking his hand when he held it out to her. She folded it in both of her own, delighted to find his grip still strong. Her emotions were a jumble of confusion, but this she knew – she delighted in his presence, his connection to everything that had been taken from her.
Lifting her eyes to Jarrett, she gave him a quizzical look.
“He asked me to translate,” he explained.
Tyla nodded.
“I explained to him that we could communicate psychically, so he wanted to speak directly to you through me.”
Tyla felt tears flood her eyes, but she blinked them back and focused on the older man.
Tash reached up and touched her cheek, then started speaking. Tyla opened her mind and let the natural connection with Jarrett re-establish itself. Her grandfather’s words came through as mental pictures, delayed only slightly as Jarrett translated them in Nevaisser.
“I know it must feel strange to you,” said Tash, his voice quivering with emotion as he spoke. “I know you don’t feel that you belong here in Temeron yet, but you’ll see how quickly this city grows on you.”
She smiled.
“And I know it hurt you to leave your brother behind, but I am so glad that you’re here. It was so impossibly difficult to lose your mother, then when Sanari, my wife, died, I kept wondering why I was still alive. Lawyan and Shad were across the world from me, and Lisan, my youngest, became involved in Zelan’s politics with my brother.” He fingered a curl, letting it slide through his fingers. “You are the reason why I still live.”
Tyla’s smile dried. The range of conflicted emotions rose inside of her, making her feel physically ill. Tash didn’t seem to notice, but Jarrett did.
“I am so grateful to have seen you, to have you here.” He curled his fingers under her chin and lifted her face until their eyes met. “You look so like your mother.” Then he drew her into his arms and held her tightly.
She embraced him in return, but she couldn’t find the comfort that she so desperately wanted. Superimposed over the beautiful Stravad faces were others, other faces filled with hunger and need, starvation and illness. The unfairness of it was almost more than she could stand.
He placed a kiss on her forehead and released her. “I’ll let you get some rest, but tomorrow, I have so much to show you. So much to tell you.”
Tyla lifted his hands and kissed the back of them. “Good night, Grandfather,” she said and waited while Jarrett translated. “I swear that soon I’ll be able to talk to you myself.”
He laughed and then reluctantly turned away, moving back into the Stravad Leader’s house. She knew he would be close, he lived next door with Thalandar, but watching him walk away only increased the disorientation she felt.
Jarrett watched her. “What’s going on? You don’t seem as happy as you should be.”
Tyla continued to watch after her grandfather, but when she could see him no more, she turned away, leaning on the banister encircling the porch. “I’m fine.”
“Tyla, we’ve come a long way together. I know when you’re not fine. What is it?”
“I’m just tired,” she said, but even she wasn’t convinced.
“Is it Kendrick and the marriage?” he said, his voice edged.
Tyla frowned. She hadn’t even given that a moment of thought after her talk with Earon.
She hunched her shoulders. She so wanted to tell Jarrett what was bothering her, but she couldn’t. It was bad enough that he had to translate for her, that she had to open her mind to his thoughts again, she couldn’t let him know her intimate worries anymore. She had to keep him at a distance.
She turned and faced him. “I’m tired,” she said firmly and started back toward the house, but came up short.
Kendrick was standing in the hall, watching them.
* * *
Tyla muttered something to Kendrick, then brushed past him, disappearing into the hallway. Jarrett tensed as the Nazarien moved onto the porch and approached him. His feelings for Kendrick were conflicted, but he didn’t want to fight him over Tyla. They’d been through too much together, they’d spent too much time and crossed too much distance to come to blows now.
Kendrick didn’t immediately say anything, just stood and stared at Jarrett in silence. Jarrett might not have Nazarien training, but he was disciplined enough that he didn’t break the stare. Finally Kendrick looked away and moved to the railing, curling his fingers around it.
“Your duty is done here, Jarrett,” he said, his back turned.
Jarrett cocked his head. “My duty is done. Are you dismissing me?”
He could see Kendrick’s fingers tighten. “Yes.”
Jarret
t moved to the rail and looked into the Nazarien’s face. Kendrick wouldn’t meet his eye. “What right do you have to dismiss me?”
Kendrick looked over his shoulder at him. “The pact we made was clear. Rescue Tyla Eldralin and bring her safely to Temeron. Once there, you were to return to Terra Antiguo and your commission as a soldier.”
“And what about you?”
“My mission changed in Adishian. I am betrothed to Tyla and I intend to keep that pledge.”
Jarrett narrowed his eyes. “Even if she doesn’t want it?”
Kendrick shifted to face him. His expression sharpened with anger. “Do you have any honor at all?”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that I made a pledge to Tarnow and I intend to keep it. You being here only complicates the situation.”
“How?”
“You’re in love with her.”
Jarrett leaned back in surprise. His voice failed him.
“And she has feelings for you. Therefore, the only honorable thing for you to do is to leave.”
Jarrett caught something more in the Nazarien’s words. “You don’t love her yourself, do you?”
“I care for her…”
“That’s not the same. You don’t love her. Admit it.”
“Love doesn’t come naturally for Nazarien…”
“That’s a platitude and you know it.” He paced around Kendrick and stopped at his back. The Nazarien shifted to keep him in sight. “How can you force her to marry you when you know I love her and she has feeling for me?”
Kendrick’s face twisted again. “Have you no honor? I made a pledge to Tarnow before his death. If I forfeit that pledge for stupid emotions, I will destroy my honor.” He made a jabbing motion at Jarrett’s chest, but didn’t touch him. “You also made a pledge – to her uncles. You pledged to see her safely to Temeron, nothing more. You’ve done that part of it, now would you destroy their trust by failing to return? I thought they meant more to you than that.”
“They’d understand. They would understand that love means more than honor.” He grimaced. “I feel sorry for you, Kendrick. What a life – spending all your time worrying about something as stupid as honor.”
Kendrick’s hands tightened into fists and he swelled out his chest. Jarrett raised one brow, wondering if he really intended to take a swing at him. “Honor is everything to me. Without it, I am nothing. I am less than nothing. Honor has been all that has sustained me in my life and no one is going to make me lose it, not even you.” His shoulders slumped. “You know I’m no match for you in combat. You know what my weaknesses are. Don’t take this from me. Don’t make me lose face.”
“You’re asking me to walk away from the woman I love for you. I can’t do that, Kendrick. I won’t.”
“Then do one thing for me. Let her decide. Remove yourself from this house. If you won’t leave Temeron, at least don’t be here as a constant reminder. Give her the decision. Have the honor to let her choose.”
Jarrett exhaled. “She needs me to translate.”
“That’s an excuse to be here, constantly confusing the situation.” Kendrick shrugged. “What have you got to lose, really? If you’re right and love is stronger than honor, you’ll win. She’ll never choose me. But if you force the issue and she takes you over her pledge to Tarnow, you may come to regret it. Wouldn’t it be better to know she made the choice entirely on her own, that you didn’t force her to compromise her word to her dead lord?”
Kendrick’s words were so like Muzik’s that Jarrett wondered if they’d rehearsed them, but he couldn’t deny Kendrick had a point. He could never accept that Tyla would marry Kendrick, but he wanted her to make the choice, to pick him because she loved him as much as he loved her.
“All right,” he said. “I’ll leave the house, but I won’t promise to stay away from her. If she needs me to translate, I will. And if she seeks me out, I won’t push her away.”
Kendrick’s expression was pained, but he forced himself to nod. “Thank you, Jarrett,” he said.
Jarrett shook his head. “Bloody Nazarien,” he muttered and walked toward the backdoor.
* * *
Twenty minutes later, Jarrett had packed his meager belongings and let himself out the front door. He’d hesitated by Tyla’s room, wanting to tell her where he was going, but he didn’t allow himself to. He figured Kendrick would be more than happy to fill her in himself.
He hesitated on the front porch and looked out at the street. It was well past midnight and he wondered if he’d be able to find an inn to take him for the night. He wasn’t sure they’d accept his Nevaisser coin, but he wasn’t sure what else to try. He knew Tash would probably give him a couch to sleep on, but for some reason he felt funny throwing himself on the older man’s mercy.
Hitching the pack up on his shoulder, he started down the stairs. A shadow detached itself from the side of the house and moved toward him. Jarrett immediately dropped into a crouch.
“Jarrett Murata?” came a familiar voice.
Jarrett relaxed. “Allistar?”
Allistar laughed, holding out his hand for Jarrett to take. “I wondered who was sneaking around at this hour.”
Jarrett shook the Stravad’s hand. “You scared the hell out of me. What are you doing out here?”
“Just finishing my patrols.”
“Really? You just got home. They didn’t give you any time off.”
Allistar chuckled. “One of the men assigned to the Stravad Leader needed to go home. His wife’s having a baby. I volunteered. I’m always wound up after a patrol and need a few days to settle in again.” He leaned over to mark Jarrett’s pack. “What about you? Are you leaving before you’ve even spent the night?”
Jarrett sighed, realizing how tired he was. “I’ve been asked to leave. Know of any inns that would take me at this hour and accept my Nevaisser coin?”
Allistar frowned. “What? Who asked you to leave?”
“The Nazarien, Kendrick,” said Jarrett with a laugh. “Apparently, I’m making it harder for him to close the marriage deal with Tyla.”
Allistar’s frown deepened. “Marriage deal?”
“Long story.”
“And you agreed?”
“It seemed logical at the time. Now, it just seems stupid.”
“You can stay with me. I’ll break out my best bottle of Trendarian brandy and you can tell me the whole tale. What do you say?”
Jarrett felt his spirits lift. “What about your wife?”
“What wife?” laughed Allistar. “I’m a free man and I intend to keep it that way. Come on, the brandy’s really good.”
“I appreciate it,” Jarrett said and let the Stravad steer him into the street.
CHAPTER 23
Temerian healing houses looked no different from their regular cottages, save for a sign over the door that Tyla couldn’t read. She stared at the small golden building and shook her head in frustration. She wished she’d thought to ask Jarrett to teach her Lodenian long ago when they’d been stuck in Adishian.
Resting her hand on Kian’s head, she pushed open the gate. As they moved down the walk, Tyla marveled at the flowers poking through a few patches of late snow. She’d never seen varieties like these and the colors were startling – golden reds, brilliant oranges, burnt amber. Once she learned the language, she was going to have to question the gardeners about them.
The door opened just as she was about to mount the stairs. A lovely Stravad woman started back at the sight of Kian, then her face broke into a wide smile and she dropped into a curtsy. That was also something Tyla was finding odd. In Nevaisser, Kian had caused a stir of fear wherever he went, but in Temeron, after an initial wariness, people warmed to him with genuine interest.
Tyla silently rehearsed the phrase she’d asked Farad to tell her before flashing a smile at the woman. “I look for friend, Earon.”
The woman narrowed her eyes at Tyla’s obviously foreign accent. Then she let forth
in a stream of words that dropped on Tyla so rapidly, she caught only one or two of them. Tyla shook her head frantically.
“I speak only little Lodenian,” she said, using a second of the phrases she’d learned – this time from Jarrett. Thinking of Jarrett made her wistful. She knew she should have brought him with her, but something had told her she needed to get on by herself now.
The woman bounded down the stairs and grabbed her hand, clearly unafraid of Kian, even though he flattened his ears and rumbled a protest. She pulled Tyla toward the stairs. Tyla shot a look at Kian and followed.
The woman brought her into a pleasant waiting room. Dark wooden chairs lined each of the walls and a table sported a vase filled with more flowers. Without pause, the woman crossed the room, pulling Tyla behind her and opened another door, leading into a bank of hallways. Taking the hallway to the right, she patted Tyla’s hand and encouraged her to keep pace. This was done in pantomime, making Tyla feel childish and ignorant. Somehow she had to learn this blasted language.
Doors opened off this hallway, some of them onto bright, immaculately clean rooms, each with a bed and a dressing table. They passed a few other Stravad, who beamed at Tyla, ducking their heads and watching after her and the dog as they passed.
Finally the woman stopped at a door. A ceramic plaque on the door said something that Tyla obviously couldn’t read, but the woman didn’t hesitate, throwing open the door and drawing Tyla inside.
With another pat on the hand, the woman left Tyla and bounded back out the door. Tyla found herself in an identical room to the others, but this one was occupied. Earon lay on his stomach in the bed and two very beautiful Stravad women were giving him a massage. His eyes were closed, but as the door clicked shut he opened them.
A wicked smile spread across his face as he met Tyla’s gaze.
Tyla crossed her arms and gave him a narrow-eyed look. “Good morning, Earon.” The two healers ducked their heads at her and muttered something to each other about Kian, but they continued their work.
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