The Silent Tempest (Book 2)

by Michael G. Manning

  Tyrion stopped some twenty feet from the door and dismounted, tossing the reins over the mare’s saddle and uttering a one word command in Erollith. The horses kept by the She’Har were well trained, he knew she would not move from the spot until he returned to her.

  His shield deflected the crossbow quarrel that struck him as he stepped through the front door. Owen held the empty weapon in his hands. He still sat on the floor, his wife’s limp body draped across his lap.

  “Back to finish what you started!?” the farmer screamed. “Kill me! I don’t care!” Owen’s face was mottled, angry red blotches combining with smut and tears to render his visage an ugly testament to grief and despair.

  A thousand things ran through Tyrion’s mind. Memories of the man before him, his best friend’s father. He had never felt particularly close to Seth’s dad, but the man had always been fair to him. The years had made him a stranger, though. Owen showed no sign of recognition as he looked at him.

  “I’m not here to kill you, Owen.”

  The older man’s eyes focused on him more intently, trying to understand why the stranger had known his name. “Who are you?” he asked.

  “Where is Brigid?” asked Tyrion, ignoring the question. His old name would only reopen wounds that were better left undisturbed.

  Owen looked down, focusing on Brenda’s face in his lap. “I won’t tell you. Just kill me, so I can be with my wife.”

  “I’m not here to kill anyone,” said Tyrion. “I want to protect Brigid from those who came here before me. Where is she? Is she with Seth?”

  Owen looked up again, and recognition slowly dawned on him. “Daniel?”

  The name sent a sliver of pain into his heart. “Something like that,” he admitted. “Where is Brigid?” He wanted out, he wanted to be away. Owen’s eyes held an image of him that he didn’t want to remember. The expectations there belonged to another person, to another life.

  “She didn’t tell them,” said the farmer. “That’s why they killed her. She wouldn’t betray her child.”

  Tyrion’s eyes narrowed, “Then why are you alive?”

  “I got here too late. They were already gone…”

  “Then how do you know what she said?” said Tyrion harshly.

  “She wouldn’t. She loved Brigid dearly, more than her own life.” Tears dripped from his nose to mingle with the blood covering his wife’s bosom.

  “People will say anything if you inflict enough pain. Where is Brigid? There’s no time to waste if I’m to catch them.”

  “At Seth’s,” answered Owen Tolburn.

  Tyrion turned away and began to walk out.

  “Do you even care that she’s dead?” asked the older man, confused by his abrupt dismissal.

  He paused and glanced back, letting his eyes roam over the dead woman’s body. Brenda Tolburn, no Brenda Sayer, was as dead as any of the other corpses he had seen before. He felt empty looking at her. She was the reason he had become what he was now.

  Once he had hated her. Hated her for destroying his dreams, hated her for raping him, but he could no longer feel even that for her. He had done far worse than what she had. Staring at the terrible wounds on her body, he wondered how long she had held out before she had given them the information they sought.

  Even she loved. She loved her children.

  He made his way out and reclaimed his horse without bothering to answer. It would take at least an hour to reach Seth and Kate’s house. He already knew he was too late. Now it was just a matter of how long it would be before he caught up to those who had gotten there before him.

  The darkness could not touch him as he rode, for he was darker inside than even a moonless night could hope to challenge.

  Chapter 7

  He passed his old home without stopping. There was no light coming from it, and his magesight found no one within, which was just as well, he had no time to waste. He couldn’t help but wonder where they were, though. Haley had told him that they weren’t injured when she was taken.

  Tyrion kept his pace steady. The wardens would have already been to Kate and Seth Tolburn’s home. Even factoring in the time they had spent at Owen Tolburn’s farm, they had to still be at least three or four hours ahead of him. By now they had taken Brigid and moved on. The only question was how many they had hurt or killed along the way.

  He stroked the horse’s neck as if to calm her, but it was his own tension that needed soothing. Save your strength for the chase, he thought.

  Catherine and Seth Tolburn’s house was well lit when it came into view, and as he drew closer Tyrion could detect several people within, two women, one man, and a boy. A moment later he had identified them. Mother, Kate, Seth, and the boy must be their son, Aaron.

  His mother, Helen Tennick, appeared to be preparing a meal, standing over a stove in the kitchen. The boy was close by, sitting at the table, strangely quiet and still for a child of eleven years. He was either tired or…

  “…in shock,” said Tyrion as he rode.

  Kate and Seth were arguing in the bedroom, and while his magesight didn’t bring him their words, it showed him enough that he could see it was a serious squabble. Tyrion kept his mind clear, refusing to speculate. Not my business…

  The boy, Aaron, fell out of his chair and began scrabbling across the floor when Tyrion opened the front door. His eyes were wide with fear. Helen was startled as well, but she recognized her son almost immediately and began shushing the boy.

  “Aaron, it’s alright. It’s my son,” she told him, wiping her hands on a towel.

  The boy was having none of it, and fled into the back of the house. A door slammed as he sought sanctuary in his parent’s bedroom.

  “I have some bad news, Mother,” said Tyrion.

  Helen had been moving forward, picking up speed with each step. She caught him in her arms, crying. “Daniel! They took her. They took her, Daniel. There was nothing we could do!”

  “I know,” he muttered over her shoulder. It felt strange to be held. The smell of his mother’s hair was familiar, even though it had been over ten years since he had last seen her. She felt small, almost frail in his arms, but her grip was strong. She clung to him with the sort of desperate emotion he never felt from Lyralliantha.

  “Why?” she cried. “Why would they do this? Why did they take Haley? We did nothing to them!”

  “Because they’re my children,” he said flatly. His magesight showed him that the others were creeping out the back door. Trying to escape. They thought he was one of the wardens, back to inflict more pain and suffering.

  He put a hand over his mother’s ear. “Pardon me,” he told her, before raising his voice and shouting toward the back of the house, “Kate, Seth, it’s me! I’m not here to hurt anyone. I need to find the ones who took Brigid!”

  Helen pulled away, “It’s Daniel. He’s back!”

  Tyrion flinched involuntarily at the sound of his old name. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to say it.

  A minute passed before the others stepped out from the hall, the boy clutching tightly to his mother while Seth carried a heavy crossbow. “What do you want?” asked Seth warily.

  Tyrion didn’t answer immediately; his mind was absorbing their images, remembering them, and readjusting to their new appearances. Seth was older, with gray showing in his hair and beard. His hairline was receding, and his body was heavier, thicker, with more muscle on his shoulders, and a bit of fat around his chin.

  Aaron was the most changed, naturally; no longer an infant, the boy was a lanky adolescent with thin straight hair and a fearful gaze.

  It was the third person who took most of Tyrion’s attention, however. His eyes stopped moving when they reached Kate. She had somehow collected even more freckles, and her face showed lines around her eyes where time and sun had taken their toll on her fair skin. Her fiery hair was shorter now, and what there was of it was trapped behind her head, wound into a tight bun.

  Even in the dim room, her eye
s sparkled with emerald defiance. Her face was swollen and purpling on the left side. She took a step forward but jerked to a halt as her husband pulled her back.

  “Daniel?” she said, when he failed to respond.

  “Your mother is dead,” he said finally, staring through her, refusing to let his eyes focus firmly on any of them. “I need to know which direction they took.”

  Kate flinched at the words, but only for a second. “There are too many, you can’t fight them.”

  “How do you know he plans to fight?” asked Seth beside her. “He’s one of them now.”

  “Because it’s Daniel!” she snarled back, but her eyes never left the man in front of her.

  “They headed toward town. Your father is following them,” said Seth.

  Kate turned then, glaring at her husband, “I thought you didn’t trust him.”

  “The sooner he goes after them, the sooner we’re rid of him.”

  She swung at him then, her hand flying up, but Seth caught her wrist, and his own fist clenched as he prepared to punish her.

  “Don’t.” He said it quietly, but both of them froze at the sound of his voice. “How many of them are there?”

  “At least ten,” answered Kate. She pulled her arm free from Seth’s grasp. “They wanted to kill us, but the black one wouldn’t let them.”

  “Black one?” asked Tyrion.

  Helen spoke then, “One of the forest gods, he had coal black skin and golden hair.”

  “Just one?”

  She nodded.

  “That will complicate things,” he said, thinking aloud.

  “Alan’s going to get himself killed,” said Helen. “He went after them. He still blames himself for Haley. He’s gone mad with guilt.” She looked at her son with a mixture of hope and shame. Hope that he might be able to put things right, and shame that she was willing to let her son put himself in danger. “Do you know what they did with Haley?”

  “She’s safe,” said Tyrion. “But the ones who came here plan to find the others.”

  “Others?” said Helen.

  “His bastards,” answered Seth. “They had their names already. That’s why they went to Colne. Most of them live in town, since that’s where he did the majority of his whoring.”

  “Then I have less time than I thought,” said Tyrion. They had the names. Who told them? Brenda, or was it Owen, hoping to negotiate for their daughter’s freedom? He turned his back on them, heading for the door. The others began fighting as he left.

  “Let me go!” came Kate’s voice.

  “Do you even care what he said? Your mother’s dead, Kate! Does that mean nothing to you?” That was Seth.

  “You know nothing about my mother,” she growled back at him. “Give me the crossbow.”

  “You can’t be serious!” said her husband. “He’s a monster, and you want to chase after him?!”

  Helen interrupted then, “He’s my son.”

  Seth’s voice was furious, “Well your son fucked half the women in Colne, including my wife!” He addressed Kate next, “Is that what you want Kate? Once wasn’t enough? You’re just as much a whore as your mother!”

  Tyrion was mounting his mare now, but despite himself, he kept his ears focused on the voices arguing stridently behind him. It appeared that Kate was about to follow him out the door. She was carrying the crossbow now, along with a quiver full of bolts.

  “Don’t you step out that door…”

  “Or what?!” Kate shouted back. “You’ll hit me again? Will that make you feel like more of a man?”

  “You walk out that door, and it’s over. You aren’t coming back,” said Seth menacingly.

  The door flew open as if someone had kicked it, which of course, she had. Catherine walked through it with an expression that might have made even a warden flinch. There was murder in her eyes. She was halfway to the horse before a second, smaller form, ran after her.

  “Momma! Don’t go!” Aaron yelled.

  She turned and caught him in her arms, dropping the crossbow as her features softened. She held the boy tightly, fighting back tears.

  “Don’t go,” the boy sobbed into her hair.

  She kissed the top of his head, “I want you to be a good boy. Mind your father, alright?”

  “I want to come with you.”

  “I wish you could,” she said softly, “but it isn’t safe.”

  “You’re leaving because of Dad aren’t you?” asked her son.

  Kate squeezed him again, “No. Your father is angry, but he loves you. I need you to take care of him for me. Can you do that?”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “Do it for me, alright?” she told him.

  “Why are you going?” asked her son.

  “They’ve got my sister,” she replied matter-of-factly. “I would do the same if it were you.”

  “You’ll come back with Brigid, right?” said the boy.

  Tyrion spoke then, “No.”

  Kate looked up at him, startled, “What?”

  “The girl won’t be coming back. Even if I recover her, they will send more,” he explained.

  “Then what do you plan?” she asked him.

  Tyrion looked back toward the road. “I’m taking her with me. I’m taking all of them.”

  “Taking them? Daniel, these kids don’t even know you. You can’t just take them away from their families,” she said, disbelief written clear on her face.

  “I’m not asking,” he said flatly. “You should stay here, with your family. There’s nothing you can do to help.”

  “You’re giving them to the forest gods? They’ll be slaves! You can’t mean that,” she insisted.

  He nudged the mare with his heels, and she began to walk.

  She watched him, torn in two directions as a war raged within her. Hugging Aaron once more, she told him, “I love you. Go inside. Mind your father.” Pushing him away, she started after the horse.

  “Momma no,” cried the boy, but he didn’t move from where he stood.

  “Take care of him, Aaron. He needs you,” she said once more, catching up to the horse.

  Tyrion kept moving, ignoring the woman walking beside him. After a hundred yards he stopped. “You’re making a mistake.”

  “She’s my sister, Daniel,” she answered. Kate’s face was streaked with tears, she could still hear her son’s voice in her heart.

  “It would be better if you forgot about her. She can’t come back with you. None of them can.”

  “Then I’ll go with them.”

  “You can’t,” he told her. “You have a son, a husband, you have a life. If you come with me they’ll collar you.”

  “It isn’t your choice,” she insisted stubbornly. “I’m not letting you take my sister into slavery alone.”

  “I won’t take you.”

  “Then I’ll follow on my own,” she replied flatly.

  He considered kicking the horse into a gallop, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave her alone on the road. Instead, he continued to feign indifference, riding without looking at her while he considered his options.

  If he rendered her unconscious he could leave her back at the house, but she would probably follow again as soon as she woke up. Unless Seth tied her up, he thought. He might have considered it before, but the bruise on her face left him uneasy. The Seth he had grown up with would never have struck a woman, Kate least of all.

  People change, he mused, glancing at the tattoos that lined his arms.

  The violence she would encounter among the slaves of the She’Har would be far worse, though. In his mind’s eye he imagined her being beaten by one of the wardens. His anger, never far from the surface, rose at the thought. She won’t go to Ellentrea. None of them will. Lyralliantha will take them. I’ll make a new place for them.

  There were a lot of ‘ifs’ involved in that scenario. Not the least of which was the fact that he had no idea whether Lyralliantha would agree to such a thing, or if she could convince
her elders to let her keep a dozen or more slaves.

  An hour passed in silence. Tyrion alternated between scanning their surrounding with his magesight and surreptitiously studying the woman beside him.

  She had changed. Her features were sharper, her face leaner. Life and hard work had put lines on her face while her hips had grown a bit wider. Not that that’s a bad thing, he thought, she was almost too skinny before.

  His mind saw a flash of aythar, and he stopped, holding up a hand. “They are ahead of us.”

  “How can you see? It’s pitch black.”

  He tapped his temple. “Let me focus, they’re at the limit of my range.” He concentrated, trying to count their numbers. After a minute he spoke again, “You were right. There are more than ten. I count twelve wardens and one of the She’Har. They have a girl and an older man as well.”

  “She’Har,” muttered Kate. “That’s what you told me the forest-gods call themselves, right?”

  He was impressed by her memory. That conversation had occurred over ten years ago. “Yes. It means ‘the People’ in their language.”

  “What does that make us?” she asked.

  “Cattle.”

  She frowned at that, but another thought came to her, “If you can sense them, can they sense you?”

  “Probably not. My range is longer than most, but they will definitely know we are coming long before we reach them.”

  “Then surprise isn’t possible…”

  “There’s more than one sort of surprise,” he told her, “but yes, I know of no way to keep them from sensing me at all. I could hide myself up to a certain point, but not enough to get within striking range.” He thought of the Prathion gift with a bit of envy, but there was no help for it.

  Kate stared off into the darkness, thinking carefully. “Would they negotiate with you?”

  He smiled. “Now you’re getting closer. No, they would not, but they would talk. They don’t see me as an enemy, to them I’m more of a competitor.”

  “So you’re planning to walk in amongst them and—what?” She was beginning to suspect the nature of his answer, but she wanted to hear him lay it out before she objected.