Tahn

by L. A. Kelly

  “I used to ride with my father like this—just the two of us. Of course, I was younger than you are, then. He was such a cutthroat! And a worthy deceiver. But he never dreamed of the power I’ve known. He died alone in a drunken stupor, so they say.”

  Lucas didn’t dare speak a word. He had never heard Samis reminisce about anything. Any interruption might be dangerous, or might prevent him from learning something important.

  “I left him to join up with the king’s soldiers at Alkatel. Such a good training there. But I was already better than the best of them at fighting sneaky, fighting dirty. We were good for each other, those men and I!”

  He stopped and looked at the scene ahead of them for a moment. When Leviathan went on, it was at a walk, and Samis sighed.

  “Father was dead by the time I got around to looking him up again. He was a good bandit, but he never cared if I ate or not, you know. I thought he’d have a stash and I’d get one last good meal off of him, after all those years. But I found out he hadn’t been traveling alone after I left. I had a half brother. He took my father’s belongings with him, so I looked for him.”

  He turned to look at Lucas. “But you know, they hung him at Alastair for killing some woman. He was traveling with a little mite of a kid. That was Tahn—you remember what a runt he was? I was sure he was my brother’s boy. My own nephew. I spared him because of it. And I had hopes for him. But, of course, he might just be some misbegotten imp my brother was using for the sympathy. Hungry kid, sad eyes. It takes the ladies, every time. My brother would have known that. Father certainly did. It was a game we played often enough when I was a mite. I swore I’d never do it. And I haven’t, have I, Lucas? I always fed you well, never put you on display.”

  Lucas stared at him, stunned. It was strange to think of Samis as a vulnerable child. He waited, but Samis said no more.

  “Did you ever tell Tahn?”

  Samis scoffed. “No! I didn’t want him going soft toward me. It might have ruined what he was becoming.”

  Lucas shook his head. “You might have been a family. You might have been friends.”

  “What good have such things ever done you? You weary me with your softhearted talk. One would think you were a woman.”

  “God help you both.” Too late, Lucas realized he’d said it aloud. And to his surprise, Samis did not react angrily.

  “Well! You still believe in that after all these years? I’m surprised you’ve kept that much of a mind of your own. I thought you were a spineless thing by now, swaying whichever way I command you.”

  Lucas felt an odd satisfaction. It was the closest thing to a compliment he’d ever gotten from the man.

  29

  It was a cool, starlit night. Tahn sat alone on the bench by the pond. Netta stepped from the house in her coat and saw him there looking out over the water. He’d been so withdrawn since his ride with Jarel. She wanted to talk to him, but she wasn’t sure how to start. A chilly breeze swept over them, and an owl called somewhere in the trees.

  She moved toward him slowly at first, hesitantly, hoping her intrusion would not be unwelcome. But he must have been deep in thought. She was less than ten feet away before he heard her.

  She jumped when he whirled around so suddenly. For just a moment he looked at her with stormy eyes before turning around again.

  “I’m sorry, Lady, for frightening you. I’m so sorry.”

  Netta hung her head. She should have been more careful. “No, Mr. Dorn. You didn’t frighten me. I am sorry. I shouldn’t have surprised you so.”

  “You should be at ease at your own home, Lady.”

  “It would be good to see you more at ease too. I am hoping you will learn to relax. We are guarded, and we are in God’s hands. No one will hurt you in this place.”

  “That does not concern me so much as the thought that I might cause hurt.” He rose and started in the direction of the guardhouse.

  “Jarel’s thought?”

  “My own.”

  “You’ll not hurt me. You only turned to see who was behind you. I would have done it myself!”

  “That’s not what I meant.” He was walking away, and she followed him.

  “It is very late, Lady.”

  “I know that.”

  “I should get some sleep. Your father asked me to meet with some of the guards again in the morning.”

  “I’m glad you decided for that,” she told him.

  He kept right on walking, and there was a strange tension in his voice. “I need to settle my heart that you are secure.

  It’ll be a couple of days only.”

  “Days?” Suddenly she was worried at his meaning. “Then what?”

  “Then I’ll tell the children good-bye.”

  She stopped, feeling as though her heart had ceased along with her feet. “Why? You can’t leave them! You know how they feel about you!”

  “I will visit them. I expect they will insist upon it.”

  “And you haven’t told them this yet?”

  He turned and shook his head. “I’ve not been strong enough so far. God help me.”

  “God help us, indeed! Why would you go? Why, Mr. Dorn? You are welcome here. You are needed here. What do you have elsewhere? Please, explain this to me!”

  “I am like a rat in a den of rabbits, my lady. I’ll never fit in.”

  “I think that in Christ there are neither rats nor rabbits. We are all one.”

  He smiled. “A kind thought. I thank you.” He turned away again.

  “Mr. Dorn! I am quite serious. God’s blessings are not for heaven alone. You can receive some of them now, including a home with people who care about you.”

  He stopped. “Do you mean you would want me to stay?”

  “Of course I would. Did you think not?”

  He only bowed his head, but his relief did not escape her. She smiled. “We would worry if you weren’t with us. We would wonder if you’d eaten, if you had shelter, or if you’d run into trouble. We are all God’s family, and you are a part of that. You always will be, Mr. Dorn. May that thought ease your mind.”

  She started to reach for his hand, but there was yelling suddenly from the north wall, guards ordering back some unwelcome stranger.

  And then came a wail, a shout, of utter desperation.

  “Vari!”

  Tahn looked toward the sky with a gasp of recognition. “Lady,” he said, “go and wake the boy. Tell him to hurry.”

  “Vari!” the stranger screamed again.

  “And don’t worry,” he told her. “Tell him it’s Marcus.” He hurried toward the wall with his limping gait, and she turned and ran inside.

  “He’s drunk!” one of the guards complained in disgust.

  Tahn brushed the comment aside.

  “Marcus?”

  A boy’s face emerged from the shadows of the trees for just a moment and then drew back, tainted with fear.

  “What do you want with him, sir?” a guard asked. “He wouldn’t be chased off. Is he dangerous?”

  But Tahn ignored the guard. “Marcus,” he said calmly, “I have sent for Vari. He told you truly that you need not fear. Come ahead and let me talk to you.”

  “It’s the Dorn, isn’t it?” the boy was saying with shaky voice.

  “Yes. You know I’m Vari’s friend. And yours if you want one. But I can’t help you if I can’t see you.”

  “I had a hold of him,” one guard said. “But he slipped my grasp, and Josef said it was better to run him off, a drunken kid unarmed.”

  Unarmed? That was strange, Tahn knew. “Marcus, has something happened to you?”

  “Don’t hurt me, sir. Please just let me see Vari. Please!”

  “I told you he’s coming. He’ll be quick enough. Just relax. I’ll not hurt you. Are you all right?”

  “I’m hurting bad.”

  “The tincture?” Tahn was walking slowly and silently into the trees toward the voice.

  “I had another sip or two. But they
took it.”

  Tahn stepped from around a tree, and Marcus screamed.

  Tahn took his arm. “Sit down before you fall,” he said. “You’re safe. You have my word.”

  Marcus sunk to the ground. He was shaking badly. “I can’t do this! Vari said he’d help, but I can’t take it!” Marcus’s clothes were torn, his belt was gone. He had a painfully obvious black eye among a collection of other bruises.

  “Marcus, who did this to you?”

  The boy didn’t answer. He was suffering a violent tremor and cried out again.

  From somewhere behind them came the sound of running footsteps. “Tahn?”

  “Over here.”

  Vari was at his side in a moment. “Thank God, Marcus! Hold on.”

  “Vari! Vari, I need a measure! Please!”

  “You know I can’t. You’re going to be glad I won’t.”

  “Oh God!” the young man shrieked. “Somebody kill me! Dorn—”

  “Take a deep breath, Marcus,” Tahn told him. “Breathe slowly. Try to relax. If you can sleep, it’ll go faster.”

  “I can’t sleep!”

  “Probably not,” Tahn conceded. “Unless God would give it to you.” He was suddenly aware of another presence. He looked up and saw Jarel standing in the trees, watching.

  “Marcus, God will help you,” Vari was saying. “He did it for me and for the Dorn.”

  “He—he wouldn’t help me! Not after—”

  “It doesn’t matter what we’ve done,” Tahn told him. “He wants to forgive. He will help, if you will have it.”

  Marcus sat up, breathing in hard gasps. “I’m going to die!

  Vari, don’t leave me out here to die!” He was shivering.

  “Can we get him to the house?” Vari asked with concern.

  Tahn looked up at Jarel and shook his head. It was too much to ask to bring another of the mercenaries under the Trilett roof. Especially one unconverted and beyond his senses right now. “We’ll go to the church.” He turned to one of the other men. “Can you go and beg Father Anolle’s permission? If he agrees, then bring us a wagon.”

  The young guard looked up at Jarel in question. “Sir?”

  “Do as he says,” Jarel told him.

  The young man hurried into town, and Jarel stepped closer. “He’s one of whatever you were.”

  “Right now he’s hurt,” Vari answered impatiently. “And I gave him my word I’d help.”

  “I’ll not stand in the way.”

  Marcus gave a sudden cry, his eyes wide with terror. Tahn took hold of his shaking arms. “Breathe,” he said. “Think about your breathing. Close your eyes, Marcus. Ask God’s help.”

  “Vari!” Marcus screamed again.

  “No, brother.” Vari shook his head. “You’ve got to listen to Tahn. Call on Jesus. He’s your only help.”

  Marcus reached out for Vari and fell against his shoulder. Vari cradled his head as he lay against him and began to gently rock. “Jesus,” Vari said again. “He already paid for this. He already took care of it. Just say his name, Marcus. Believe it.”

  “Jesus.” It was Tahn’s voice, soft and distant. “Lord Jesus.”

  Jarel looked long at the Dorn and then down at Marcus. God had lifted a killer out of the darkness. Now here lay another soul in need. Suddenly it didn’t matter so much what role this boy might have played in what had happened. He was a lost child, and Jarel wanted him to respond, to whisper the blessed Name and know peace. He wanted to witness such a transformation before his own eyes and be a part of it. He knelt down next to Vari and began softly singing his mother’s favorite hymn.

  “Almighty God of majesty high, walked on this earth, and came to die. Bore on his back the weight of our sin. Beaten and bruised, the Savior of men. Such love as this, I cannot tell! He gave me hope, released me from hell! Holy Redeemer loveth my soul! By his stripes healed! In his blood made whole!”

  There was a hush over them all.

  “Jesus,” Marcus whispered. “Jesus.” He sunk into Vari’s lap, and the shaking stilled. By the time the wagon arrived, he was asleep.

  “Bring him to the guardhouse,” Jarel told them. “He’ll be much closer for you to watch over.”

  The next day, Netta had all of the children in new clothes and gathered them on the east porch for a reading lesson.

  “Don’t we look like haughty beasts?” Stuva remarked. “If I saw me riding by in Tamask, I might throw rocks at myself!”

  “One can dress as a gentleman and keep humility, child,” Netta admonished. “I’ll not have a haughty spirit from any of you. I’ll be the first to inform you of the error if ever I see it.”

  “Yes, my lady,” Stuva answered.

  Netta smiled and shook her head. “I told you about that already. All of you still calling me Lady! Or Miss, for goodness sakes!”

  “Isn’t it proper?” little Temas asked, finally looking feminine in a ruffled dress.

  “Of course it is. But I have a name, and I like to hear it sometimes.”

  “It seems rather strange to call you Netta,” Tam told her. “Makes you like one of us.”

  “That is the point, isn’t it?” she asked.

  Tam wrinkled his brow and looked down at his new shoes. “I think that when you were in the cave puttin’ on Vari’s clothes, you were still a lady. And I suppose that we’re still the same bunch we ever was.”

  Bennamin had stepped out behind Netta. “You are very right, young man,” he said. “Men consider the outward things, but God sees to the heart. What is inside us defines us. And you were all worthy gentlemen—” he bowed to Temas, “and a lady, when you were hungry, or homeless, or locked within a tyrant’s gates. We are all God’s children.”

  Doogan was fidgeting in his seat. “But what if we can’t be like we should? Scares me I might make you wish you hadn’t took me in.”

  Benn smiled. “I have just that problem. I pray God that I may measure up to what you deserve. And it will take his help, no doubt.”

  Most of the children sat there stunned. It was hard to imagine the powerful man saying such a thing.

  “We will all pray for one another,” Netta told them. “God’s love molds us together already.”

  She looked out over the yard, following her father’s eyes. Tahn was walking toward them, his limp nearly gone.

  “How is our guest?” Benn called out.

  “He is hungry.” Tahn smiled. “A pleasant surprise born in God’s grace.”

  “And yourself? I don’t recall if you ate a bite yesterday.”

  “I will today. With your permission, I’ll ask Hildy for a tray for us, and Vari as well.”

  “Of course.” Benn laid a hand on Tahn’s shoulder as he stepped to the porch. “Has he told you what happened to him?”

  Tahn looked at the children but decided to proceed. “Six of Samis’s men have banded together near Merinth under Donas, one of the eldest. They wanted Marcus to join with them. When he would not, they beat and robbed him.”

  “They are very dangerous, then?”

  “Not like they were under Samis. They let him live. And they have not the numbers nor the organization they had before, my lord. They will be bandits, no doubt, but no more threat to you than to any other man of means.”

  “How many were there, organized before?”

  “Nearly forty.”

  “And does he say they are all scattered now?”

  “We expect so, sir. It seems only one man had a heart to remain with the master when they saw him weakened.”

  “Let us pray for them, shall we?” Benn abruptly asked.

  But Tahn felt a sudden churning in his stomach. Pray for who? The scattered soldiers? Or Samis? He reached his hand to the porch rail to steady himself.

  Netta stepped forward. “Are you all right, sir?”

  He held up his hand before she could touch him. “Yes.” He looked at her and then at Benn. “Forgive me. It is not an easy thought, to pray for my master. It is a good idea,
though.”

  “It seems it would help you,” Benn told him gently. “You are in God’s hand, but Samis still bears a hold. He is not your master, son. Christ is.”

  “I know it,” Tahn answered almost angrily. “I know what I’ve been given. I know what I’ve left behind.” He was suddenly uncomfortable that the children should see him so unsettled. He nodded quickly to Benn and to Netta. “Please excuse me.” He turned from them to the yard again and walked away.

  “I’ll bring a tray shortly,” Benn called after him. “Thank you for the report.”

  Netta was dismayed for him. “Father—”

  “Leave him be, for now,” he told her. “He’s all right. I have the same struggle toward the man who took so much from us. We will grow past it together, perhaps, Tahn and I. It is not always easy to forgive.”

  30

  When afternoon came and the children were either playing nimbles or climbing like monkeys in the trees, Netta sat alone on one of the porches, with the psalms once again in her hand. But she couldn’t concentrate on the reading with Tahn Dorn on her mind. She thought of what his presence had been like for her at first and how completely her feelings had changed—from terror to deepening admiration. She knew she was getting more sensitive to his struggle and more attached to his humble smile. When he said he was leaving, it had rocked her horribly and forced her to confront her own emotions toward him.

  He was a puzzle of strength and vulnerability. Before he had whisked her out her window, she’d never known anyone so deeply needy. And yet he’d taken immense responsibility on himself, even before he knew God’s mercy for himself. Jarel could be right. He might still be dangerous. But only in an extreme circumstance, which was all he seemed to know before. Now he was a man who knew mercy and was willing to share it. And Netta found that very easy to love.

  “Love is of God,” Father Anolle had said. “Sort out your own heart and trust what you find there.”

  Netta looked out at the leaves scattered across the yard. Soon it would be winter. Karll came courting for the first time in winter. It had been a stormy day, and he’d lingered and gotten snowbound at their estate. Father had said he surely planned it that way.