“THE lady is sound asleep,” Kestian commented with amusement late the next evening, trotting his horse up beside Viva.
Tarsius placed an arm over hers, concerned she might fall. “Are you certain?” He glanced over his shoulder. Zara’s head rested between his shoulders. The white cloth of her cloak reflected moonlight as it draped across Viva’s hindquarters, casting what little he could see of her form into silhouette.
“Absolutely.”
Dolmar smiled and nodded agreement.
Daylin looked as though he was ready to join Zara in slumber. Dolmar smacked his arm, jarring him awake. He glanced around, startled, then straightened in the saddle, more than a little chagrined.
“We’ll be home soon.” Tarsius straightened, maintaining a grip on Zara’s forearms. Just in case.
The miles passed slowly, and he breathed a sigh of relief when the flickering fires of the northern gates of Mil’antias came into view. Always good to come home, no matter how long he’d been away. The double gate rose before them then fell behind. Hoof beats echoed off the walls in quiet streets. They emerged in the center of the compound.
“Take her inside. I’ll tend to Viva. The lady requires your attention now.” Kestian leaned across the distance between his mount and Viva to hold Zara in the saddle while Tarsius dismounted.
He reached up once on the ground and pulled Zara into his arms. “Thank you.” He cradled his burden close and entered the building. His footsteps in the entry hall broke the quiet of midnight. An acolyte entered the hall, rubbing his eyes, lantern in hand. Tarsius smiled an apology for waking him.
“Sir Tarsius, good evening.” The young man followed him to the living quarters. “Your mother worried for the young lady’s safety. She’ll be pleased to see you both home safe.” They parted company at the door to Tarsius’, now Zara’s, room.
With a gentle push of his foot, the door snapped almost soundlessly closed. He set Zara on the bed, held her upright with one hand, and removed her cloak with the other, leaving it where it fell. He turned her around and laid her back. She frowned in her sleep and turned on her side toward him. He carefully pulled the covers over her. After placing a kiss on her temple, he took sentry in a chair.
Cygnet and Jerrod curled up next to one another on the rug, a tangle of canine heads and limbs.
“Tarsius?” His mother’s soft voice penetrated awareness just as his eyes closed.
He made to rise but the gentle pressure of her hand on his shoulder stilled him.
“Thank Sear’dan she found you.”
“It is fortunate for us she did.” He kept his voice low and briefly summarized the events that had transpired after Zara burst into camp.
“We might have lost all of you.” Mother’s gaze rested on Zara’s sleeping form.
“I know.” He sighed. Exhaustion dogged him. “If she had not warned us, I doubt any of us would have survived.”
* * *
Thank you, Sear’dan, for sparing my son. Camilla pushed a lock of hair away from his face and smiled. Too tired to protest, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back. Very quickly, his breathing leveled off. Believing him asleep, she turned to leave.
“I love her, Mother.”
The soft confession drew her to a halt. She retraced her steps and sat carefully on the foot of the bed. Tarsius’ eyes, when they opened again, were filled with confusion and a fear she’d never seen in him before. It troubled her, but she resigned herself to it. She couldn’t protect him. She could only help him weather the storm that lay ahead.
“I love her so much I ache with it. I have never felt anything so powerful.” His gaze rested on Zara’s face. “Her grief is my pain. Her happiness is my joy. As though she is part of me, a part of my soul. But that cannot be. Can it?”
She shrugged, not certain how to answer.
“Something troubles her.” He shook his head with a puzzled frown. “I wish I knew what it is. Perhaps I could help. Ray’din has much to do with it, I fear, but she has been unwilling to discuss it.”
“Ray’din?” A shiver flicked up her spine.
Tarsius nodded, rubbing a hand over his eyes.
“You need sleep.”
He frowned and shook his head. “I cannot leave her.” He straightened in the chair. She could see the effort he made to shake off his body’s demand for rest. “Ray’din comes when she is alone. That is why she wants me near. He hurt her in Tel’antias. I fear the hurt went beyond physical wounds.”
He chuckled softly, much to her surprise. She failed to see humor in situation.
“She hurt him. How severely, I know not, but she must have left some deep gouges on him. His blood was under her fingernails.” He held out his arm and showed her the four crescent shaped scars on the soft flesh of his forearm. “She did this. The scars refuse to heal.”
“Like the cuts on her arm when you first brought her here.” She connected old wounds with new ones.
He rested his head back and closed his eyes. “What am I to do?”
“That decision is yours alone. I’m certain you will make the correct one.” She studied his face, memorizing the lines. Her little boy had far too quickly become a man. Things were about to change. She could sense it. Only time would tell if the changes were good or bad.
Camilla dropped a kiss on his head and returned to her room. As she slipped into bed beside her headstrong husband, she prayed for Tarsius to find wisdom for the decisions that lay ahead. She suspected what his choice would be. Her beloved would not be pleased.
* * *
“Tarsius.”
A gentle hand shook his shoulder. The first thing Tarsius noticed was that Zara still slept peacefully. The second, he had a hideous cramp in his neck from sleeping in the chair. Rubbing it, he turned his head enough to see who had awakened him.
His father wore a frown.
“Father.”
“Your mother tells me you had quite an adventure.” His voice betrayed no hint of what he might be thinking. His gaze rested on Zara, steady and almost perplexed. “How is she?”
“Well, I think, all things considered.” Tarsius was surprised by the man’s sudden concern. “The past few days have been difficult. She needs rest.” He got to his feet and raised both arms over his head to stretch his stiff back. “We owe her a considerable debt of gratitude. If not for her, more than Elden would have been lost.”
“Yes....” The priest seemed to think better of whatever he might have said. He raised his chin and turned in a flutter of robes. “I expect to see you at services this morning.”
“Yes, Father.”
The door closed between them.
Tarsius shook his head. He would never understand that man.
“Can I go?” Zara’s hesitant voice interrupted his thoughts. She sat up, waiting for his answer.
“You need not ask.” He smiled affectionately. “You are always welcome.” He wanted to hug her for happiness that she wanted to go but restrained himself, uncertain how she would take such a display.
She hopped out of bed and straightened her clothes. Then she stripped the wool trousers off without preamble. Tarsius nearly melted with relief that she had, indeed, pulled them over the white silk pair. With a couple of adjustments to her belt and boots, she looked expectantly at him.
“I must change.” In the hallway, he headed toward Matheu’s room. “If you like, go ahead. I will meet you there.” He held his breath, fearful that she would want to stay with him while he changed. His father really would have a fit.
Zara nodded after a moment of thought and turned in the direction of the temple.
Tarsius released a sigh of relief at her quick acquiesce, then it occurred to him that she had done so far too easily. Was she up to something or merely more confident in her surroundings? He had to trust her.
The door clicked gently closed between them.
* * *
“Zara? Is that you?”
She turned toward the voice.
Matheu approached with a bemused smile. When he reached her, he circled, his gaze evaluating, making her fidget. He released a whistle. “Incredible.”
Zara blushed.
“Some compliment, Matheu,” came a dry remark. Kestian joined them, bowing. “Good morning, my lady. Beautiful, as usual, I must say.” The soldier shot Mathew a smug grin.
Zara turned away. Why wouldn’t they stop making a fuss? She looked different. So what?
“Excuse me.” Tarsius appeared at her side and took her arm in a light grip. She fell in slightly behind him, using him to conceal her discomfiture. “I believe it is my lawful duty to rescue my lady when she is in distress.” He led Zara into the temple.
“His lady?” Kestian snorted lightly with a grin. “How do you like that?”
Zara glanced back and noted Matheu didn’t look quite as amused.
* * *
“Evil must not be tolerated. Take action,” recited the gathering of priests, knights, soldiers and assorted laymen. Skarahl stood at the front of the group, leading them from his place in front of the altar.
Zara watched and listened with increasing unease. These people zealously believed every word. Skarahl was the most zealous of them all. Much of what had already been said was foreign, and what she did understand left her stomach in a knot.
“Evil corrupts the unwary. You must be ever watchful, for evil means death. Death without Our Lord Sear’dan’s light. It can be subtle and unassuming, insidious in nature. It can destroy before you know of its presence if you’re not vigilant. Evil lives by secrets and subterfuge. It lives to deceive those who are unwise to its ways. It lives to destroy.”
Zara squirmed, uncomfortable with the glint in the old man’s eyes. The words grew heavier as his speech gained momentum. At the mention of secrets, Zara flinched, her elbow thumping Tarsius hard on the arm. He cast her a concerned frown then grasped her hand and gave it a squeeze. She scarcely noticed.
Suddenly, Skarahl grew quiet and very still. Everyone waited for his next words. Anticipation rippled through the congregation. No words came. People looked at one another, questioning without anyone breaking the silence.
* * *
Father looked at the floor. Tarsius frowned. When the man finally raised his eyes again, there was sadness in them that brought Tarsius to his feet. Mother went to his side. He waved her back. Tarsius resumed his seat.
“Sometimes—” He paused then sighed. “Sometimes, even the most learned of us make mistakes. Evil is our enemy, and we must guard against allowing its influence to corrupt our lives and our beliefs. However, we must never forget that all of us have varying experience and things are not always as they appear.”
He pointed to a priest sitting on the front pew. “Your experiences are different from mine.” He indicated a knight sitting directly behind. “Yours are different from a farmer. A farmer’s are different from a merchant. Even we priests cannot say we have shared all of our experiences. Sear’dan gives us clear, basic guidelines on what represents evil, but often our own experiences or feelings cloud the wisdom he tries to impart.” He walked up the middle aisle, his hands clasped behind his back.
All heads turned to follow him.
“I believed” —he jabbed a finger at his chest— “I knew the answer. I believed I could look into a crowd and say, yes, that one” —he pointed to a layman to his right— “he is evil.”
The man’s eyes widened, and he shook his head in denial.
Father rested a hand on the man’s shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile. “I have learned in the last few months that things are not so simple. I believed evil was working its corrupting influence within the walls of my own church.”
Zara shrank next to Tarsius. He squeezed her hand, unable to fathom where his father was going with this.
“I must apologize for my close-minded view. I may be old and set in my ways, but even I can change. I make no guarantees for my future behavior.” He chuckled. A few brave souls laughed with him. “But I promise to attempt to maintain an open mind and listen to what others have to say before making judgments.” He returned to the altar and faced the congregation.
“No one” —his gaze captured Zara’s— “should fear trusting, loving, or seeking aid when in need. It is the way of evil to make a person fearful of those who would be a friend. It should be the way of good to remove that fear and create bonds of friendship where none are thought possible.”
Tarsius forced down a smile.
Skarahl’s gaze shifted to his. “It should be the way of good to seek understanding and offer aid where it is needed. Not simply to those we may deem worthy.” He smiled. “If we cannot make a difference to those who need us, then why are we here?”
Tarsius understood his father’s message with a clarity that brought tears to his eyes. He blinked them back. Love and hope bloomed in his chest for a man he had long been in contention with. For the first time, his father’s love reached out without demands or disappointment, fierce and unconditional.
* * *
Zara lowered her gaze to Tarsius’ hand holding hers, but she saw another. A strong hand encased in a black metal gauntlet. Skarahl spoke of evil living by secrets and meaning death. Her life had been a maze of secrets since birth, necessary ones. Did that mean she was evil? And what of U’uskoh? He loved her despite the secrets. Did that mean he was evil? His god controlled death. Was Iykey evil, too? She frowned.
Skarahl said good removed fear and created bonds where none were thought possible. U’uskoh had done that. He’d been so patient. She’d been terrified of him when they’d first met. She never would’ve believed the love and trust they’d come to share was possible. He’d made it possible. His acceptance and understanding had opened the door. He’d helped her more than she could probably remember. Saved her life even. Good things.
She frowned. Could a person be good and evil, or did they have to be one or the other?
When Zara looked up again, people rose from their seats to leave. Tarsius remained in his seat, speaking to the knight next to him. She tightened her grip on his hand to gain his attention.
He glanced over then quickly closed his conversation and gave her his full attention. “Is something wrong?”
Should she ask him the question that troubled her? Maybe... not. He didn’t know U’uskoh. No one there did. She shook her head. “I’m hungry.” Sounded as good as anything else that had popped into her head.
“Then we shall eat.” He chuckled, stood, and drew her to her feet.
Through the meal and long afterwards, Zara’s thoughts circled. She wearied of trying to figure out Skarahl’s words. The longer she considered them, the more confusing they were. If only U’uskoh were there to help. Things made sense when he explained them. Depression hovered close. Everything reminded her of U’uskoh, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. She might forget him, and the horror of that possibility outweighed the sorrow of separation.
After breakfast, while watching Tarsius spar with Ray, she moved on to pondering the threats Ray’din had issued. Should she tell Tarsius? Something was coming, and soon. Ray’din probably wouldn’t wait long to make another attempt. First, the wolverine weeks before. Then, the dragon. She frowned.
Two animals. Why hadn’t Ray’din attacked Tarsius himself? He’d sent something else to do his bidding. Would he send another creature? Or would he resort to a person? Or maybe come at Tarsius directly? No. If he could do that, he would’ve done it already. Maybe, like Vil’joh, Tarsius was protected from direct attack. An assassin then? If so, she had to find out who he might send.
Oktehm. Tarsius’ youngest brother. He’d been scarce since their confrontation weeks before, but he wouldn’t be difficult to find. He knew the streets of this city far better than she. He also knew its inhabitants. Perhaps he had ideas. At least, it was a place to start. If he would cooperate.