Trin alone remained atop her horse, the others of their party having dismounted to await the delegates from New Luddahn. A steward stared up at her, waiting patiently for her to dismount so that he might lead her horse aside with the others.
She offered Taehrn a wide smile. “I was considering it,” she said, “but that giant bald spot formin’ on top of your head distracted me. Has the Legion ever considered hats, ‘cause you’re gonna need one.”
Taehrn glared at her. His arm twitched, a short swing up toward his head as though to feel his scalp then back down to his waist as he caught himself. “I will bring it up with the Grand at our next meeting.”
Trin wished she could keep her mouth shut. Gods, what was she doing? She shouldn’t be unnerving Taehrn before a meeting of such import. Not while lives might be at stake. And yet, she couldn’t stop herself.
Trin swung one leg up and over her horse. “I’m serious,” she said as she handed her reins to the steward. “Summer’s almost here, and I don’t want you to burn that pretty little scalp of yours. Plus, I could see you perfect in some feathered plumes, maybe a nice tricorn.”
There had been a time when Taehrn would have laughed with the others at her teasing, would have let his soldiers believe the comments an eccentric game played between the two of them, because in the past, that’s exactly what it had been. While the words were about the same as what she would have said during their courtship, these days, they were spoken in an attempt to humiliate him. And that was the difference. Instead of laughing, he scowled and turned away. With Taehrn, intent mattered, and that was one of the few good things she could still say about the man.
His scowl wracked her nerves. She did not like the way she had been feeling since the Grand had taken Bell away. She’d not been right since reading the page, but the more she thought on it, the more it was Bell’s absence which bothered her. A part of her wondered if Fate was onto their game, wondered if Fate had realized Bell’s agreement to help, and that Fate had decided it was a crime worthy of a death sentence.
For a time, Trin had thought herself recovering, had hoped that Jem’s company was making her stronger, but that recovery had faltered. It made her worry, and that worry made her paranoid. She kept measuring her every action: Did she pester Taehrn by choice, or did she do so upon Fate’s urging?
The delegates of New Luddahn were a simple group. As they topped the rise, Trin noticed their horses most. Short legged and stout, the animals were clearly plow horses and pack animals. Like the woolen dress of their masters, their coats were patchy, their hair of uneven lengths and of mottled colors. These people were not Lockish nobility, they were not even wealthy, but they carried themselves with pride just the same, their chins up, and defiance in the eyes of their leader.
She recognized that defiance. It was the same defiance she had felt in years past. It carried with it the same strength she had felt slipping away in the days since she had first read from Teachings of a Whore.
None spoke until the Luddahners had closed the distance between them, and even then, the atmosphere was chill. Only their leader, an Atherahnian looking man with gaunt features and light-colored eyes, kept his gaze steady while his fellows shifted nervous looks between faces, warhorses, and scabbards.
“Hello, friends,” Taehrn said. “Welcome, and thank you for taking the time to meet with us.” His voice was friendly in that genuine horseshit sort of way he always spoke. That was the thing about Taehrn, he could hate a person with all his heart and still be polite about it. What made it strange was that she had never doubted his sincerity; he could give the exact same greeting to a leper, could even shake his hand, and Trin wouldn’t doubt that he meant every word, because he probably did. The problem was, while genuinely pleased, it was rarely for the reason his words implied. The butchering prick.
“I am Taehrn Andren,” he continued. “First of the Legion.” His hand swept to the man beside him. “This is Dirn Bahnil, our supply master, and Trin Cavahl, our quartermaster.” Taehrn’s gaze settled on the Lockish leader. “You must be Sylvas Durahl, the mayor of New Luddahn.”
The mayor looked neither amused nor honored by Taehrn’s greeting. He seemed agitated, and Trin didn’t blame him. It wasn’t every day that an army arrived on one’s doorstep.
“Yes,” the mayor agreed. “How can we help you, Cultist?”
Taehrn frowned at the designation. “Well… as you have noticed, I have brought with me two of our supply officers, as well as several clerks, a few scribes-”
“Many soldiers,” the mayor added, his tone hostile.
“Yes,” Taehrn agreed. “Yes we have, though they are only here for everyone’s protection. You see, we have underestimated the rot, and we were hoping your fine citizens would be willing to barter for a few supplies.”
Mayor Durahl glared at him. “We do not deal with cultists.”
Again, Taehrn frowned. “I think you have us confused, sir. We are followers of the Faith, but we are not like the cults of Atherahn. We do not revel in random bloodshed.”
“No?” the mayor mocked. “Only in ‘lawful’ bloodshed, then?”
“Pardon?”
“You are invaders here. Why would we deal with your kind? The first of your Legion’s forces went past us two weeks ago, and now a few nights past, smoke drifted in from the east and filled the valley. If Dekahn could burn, I would be worried, but even so you must forgive my caution and my unwillingness to deal with your kind. We have nothing to spare.”
Taehrn gaped a moment before spreading his lips to a wide smile. “Mister Durahl, even if something has happened in the East, I am not my peers. Please do not make rash decisions based upon assumptions and hearsay. I am certain we can come to an agreement that will see both of us happy.”
The Lockishman shook his head as he thrust out his arm to display a black Atheist wristband. “Do you know what this is?” he asked.
Oh gods, Trin thought. It was just like her meeting with the Tyrant of Ternobahl. Like then, it felt as if events were being strung along in the wake of Fate’s meddling. Don’t do this, Trin begged. You evil bitch, please don’t do this. Trin eyed the hillside behind her, hoping to see her tent and the safety it promised. Gods, why had she come here? Her curse could only make things worse.
“I’m afraid I don’t, Mister Durahl.”
“Then I will enlighten you, Cultist. It is a promise to keep our nation free of the Faith’s corruption. Of its mages, its cultists, its violence, and its rule. If you wish from us aid and supplies, then you will have to fight us for them, because we will not help you as you and your savage beliefs conquer our land.”
Taehrn was silent for many moments as he watched Durahl.
“Then…” Taehrn began.
Trin’s breath latched on to every spare second he wasted with the pause.
“Then sadly…” Taehrn continued.
With each word, Trin’s fear built. She knew what was coming. She knew what Fate would make of this meeting. The bitch could not waste such an obvious confrontation – such an obvious opportunity.
“That is what we will do,” Taehrn finished. “We are a peaceful folk, Mister Durahl, we would prefer to barter for our needs, but they are needs.”
And she wanted to laugh at Taehrn’s words. She wanted to throw them in his face, begrudge him every breath that he had ever breathed in his entire life, for even in knowing that he spoke these words at the behest of Fate, and at the whims of Trin’s curse, she knew that Fate could only make it so because of the evil within Taehrn’s heart.
And yet, her doubts told her that he’d done this because of the things she had said; because he’d wanted to appear a man in front of his soldiers after her jokes had emasculated him.
“I will give your people two days to change your mind, at the end of which, we will take what we require by force.”
There were several seconds of silent regard, as each delegation sized up the other, before the mayor motioned for his people to leav
e. Taehrn waited until the mayor and his fellow envoys had remounted and retreated from the hilltop before ordering their own withdrawal. Taehrn pulled Jem aside and a few words passed between them before Jem mounted and rode ahead. Once the boy was out of sight, Taehrn’s gaze fell on her.
“May I speak with you a moment, Miss Cavahl?”
She felt hopeless as she nodded acceptance. She did not want to speak with this butcher, but she knew she had to. The doubt was near crippling in these pivotal moments: she did not know if she should flee, if perhaps she should turn her horse into the rot and ride as far away as she possibly could… or if the only hope of changing the outcome of the curse’s touch, was in remaining where she was, and holding firm in her determination to affect what change she could.
Taehrn smiled. “Retrieve your mount,” he suggested. “We can speak on the way back to camp.” Raising his voice, Taehrn’s gaze wandered between the other members of their group. “You are all dismissed. Thank you for coming.”
Trin did as he suggested, then waited as he climbed onto his horse. Despite Taehrn’s dismissal, the others mulled on the hilltop, gathered in small clusters atop their mounts, discussing amongst themselves while they waited for Taehrn to precede them. Despite her mood, it made Trin smile, because no doubt they did so because each of them believed it was what Taehrn expected of them, and it likely was. It was amazing how those small things could mean so much to Taehrn.
“Something wrong, Taehrn?” Trin asked as they started for camp. “Have you had word from Trel? The baby’s okay, isn’t it?”
Taehrn glanced up and smiled. “The baby is fine. Actually, I wanted to discuss something else.”
“What?”
“Jem.”
“Oh.” Trin glanced down at her reins and the horse underneath her. She was curious about what had happened between the two, but it couldn’t be good if Taehrn was approaching her about it. She’d expected that she would have to drag it out of Jem like a tapeworm out of the gut.
“You are not going to warn me against him again, are you?”
Taehrn shook his head. “I don’t see what good it will do. At least… not without an explanation.”
Trin smirked. “He’s not pregnant, is he? I told him to be careful, but you know Jem, he just never listens. It’s all right if he is. I won’t tell Lila. When we get back to Trel you can set the boy up in a nice home down by the wharf, and she’ll never have to know.”
Taehrn gave her a blank, unamused look, but said nothing. The silence stretched to the slow rhythm of plodding hooves. It made her uncomfortable. Taehrn wasn’t one for drama, and usually she could needle some annoyance from him, but this was just plain indifference.
She couldn’t take the silence. “What is it, Taehrn?”
Staring into the distance, Taehrn sighed. “I suppose there’s no way around it,” he said. “I’ll just get to the point. Did you know it was me who was sent to arrest Indaht Trask?”
Trin had to think for a moment, because for a moment the statement didn’t make sense, didn’t add up with all the facts she had. And then she was pissed.
“You’re the blooder that dragged off the farrier to cover your ass?” she yelled. “Oh, I should have butchering known. Who in the Whore’s name else would it be? You’re the only scheming bitch I know that’d sell out a man for your own career. Mother’s sake, Tae-”
“Stop,” Taehrn pleaded, his eyes glancing back to those behind, likely hoping they couldn’t hear. She hoped they could. She hoped they heard everything, that they heard everything this bastard had ever done, and that they scorned him for it.
“Stop?” she asked. “Why in the Whore’s name would I stop, Taehrn? Everyone should know this. Every man under your thumb should know that you’re willing to place their heads on the block if it’ll help you in the slightest. You plain as day killed that man, even though you knew he wasn’t Trask.”
“Is that what Jem told you?” Taehrn asked in an outraged whisper. “I did nothing of the sort, Trin.”
“You think I’d believe you?”
“You’d believe that lying little shit instead?” Taehrn asked. “How much has he told you, Trin? Did he tell you that he killed his father in cold blood? Did he tell you that he tied the man to his bed then burned him alive?”
“What?” Trin paused. There was no way Jem had done that. “No, he didn’t. The boy’s been moping over his father’s death since the day I met him. There’s no way he killed his father.”
Taehrn scoffed. “And I suppose he’s been moping over that farrier he told you about, too. I told you before, Trin. The boy’s a liar. A dangerous liar.”
“Oh, you’re so full of shit. Why would he do that?”
“The same reason he told you I dragged off the farrier to protect my career. Because he’s a monster, Trin. Just like the man who raised him.”
“What are you saying?”
“What has he told you about himself?” Taehrn asked. “What did he tell you about that farrier you’re so mad about? I bet he didn’t tell you that the man was his uncle.” Taehrn’s voice lowered again, this time into a menacing hiss. “I bet he didn’t tell you that his name is Jem Trask.”
Trin gaped. “What?”
“Isn’t it obvious, Trin? He was the man’s herald. He was not just a messenger, he was the deacon’s son. And you know who damned that farrier? Him. He did.”
“You’re lying. His father was the garrison scribe.”
“There was no scribe at Liv. Trask didn’t need one, because he himself had been a scribe before the Riots.”
“I don’t believe you,” Trin said.
Taehrn balked at her, his eyes rolling up and away as he grabbed his forehead. “Then go ask him,” Taehrn said. “Go ask him about the farrier. About how he gave up his uncle to save his father. About how he signed the warrant stating his uncle was Indaht Trask and then killed the deacon anyway! I’m sure he won’t tell you the truth, but maybe his lies will be enough for you to rest easy at night while you share a tent with a deranged murderer.”
Trin hissed an agitated groan. “What is it you want, Taehrn? You want me to hate everyone I meet? You want me to feel like there’s no one I can trust? That the world’s a scary, evil place so I’ll kill myself and leave everything to you and Lila? What is it you want, Taehrn?”
“I want you to be safe, Trin.”
“Horseshit.”
“Horseshit? What do you think I do for a living, Trin? Do you think I joined the Legion for my own gain? Do you think I would accept a position like Executioner because I just oh so loved cutting off heads? I’m trying to make the world a safer place, Trin. For you. For Lila. For my child.”
“That’s a great speech, Taehrn,” Trin grated. “Too bad I’ve heard it before, when you became First Legionnaire.”
“Because it’s the truth,” he said.
“No, it’s because you’re a piece of shit, who thinks you can just say the right things and everyone will fall in line with what you want.”
Taehrn glared at her. “Oh please, Trin. You’re so damned predictable. Everything in your world fits into this perfect little box, doesn’t it? Your beliefs are right, about everything and everyone, while everybody else is just lying and cheating to make sure you don’t get what you want. Well, I don’t want to run your life, Trin, it’s enough trouble just to make you listen to reason. And you know what? The gods don’t want to run your life either. You’re not this special little girl who the world shines down on. You’re just you, and to put it bluntly, my dear Trin, you’re not that important.”
“Butcher take you, Taehrn.” Trin kicked her heels in hard, spurring her mount away from him. The bastard knew nothing.
“Me?” he called after her. “Hasn’t he already taken you? Aren’t you his special little project, or is it just that magic old woman who runs your life? I keep forgetting how far your delusions go!”
She was tempted to go back, to tell the bastard all she knew and prove him wrong
, but she didn’t have anything but supposition. The page she’d stolen from Teachings of a Whore wasn’t enough. It didn’t prove anything, it only confirmed what she already knew. One day she’d figure it out though. One day she’d have the proof she needed. He said he did everything for them, but the bastard didn’t understand sacrifice. He didn’t understand what she was trying to do for him and for Lila.
But she would show him.
As Jem approached the culmination of all his planning, he was beginning to doubt his choice. He had been angry, and Taehrn had manipulated him, but the more Jem thought about his father’s death, the more he wondered why he hadn’t killed him sooner. Indaht had not always seemed a bad man, but he had done bad things. To Jem, there seemed a difference. At least, he needed there to be one. If not, then he was a bad person too.
But maybe he was. And maybe he shouldn’t try to hide from it. He had doomed the farrier. He had killed his father and that old man. He had led the miners to their deaths, and then protected their killer.
He could mark all of his bad choices down to the stupidity of a child, but that was just an excuse. Jem had loved his father, even after all that had happened at Liv, and in a way, he still did. He knew he always would. If his father’s cruelty hadn’t stripped that love away, nothing would. That probably made Jem stupid, or some kind of depraved freak, but perhaps he should just accept it and all his other flaws. Perhaps he should just accept that he was evil, and finally do to Taehrn what evil people do.
It all made sense.
Jem had run from Vale because he couldn’t face what he’d done and believed himself in need of the kind of punishment only guilt could enact. But all of that was foolish. Trin had been right in Lane. The only person keeping him from happiness was himself.
But he kept wondering. If the Guard arrived and killed them all, would that solve anything? Would it make everything right? Or would it only make Jem a target? There were more men and women like Taehrn. An entire priesthood’s worth. Even if he killed Taehrn here, even if the Guard crippled Taehrn’s network of spies and assassins so that none could pursue him, then there were still others like Taehrn out there. Jem’s actions might only be symbolic. A simple victory here might not affect the change he wanted. But it would, perhaps, keep Godahn and Lissahn from the army they needed.
Death's Merchant: Common Among Gods - Book One Page 108