A Man Betrayed (41 page)

Rovas had left for
market an hour back and Magra, busy with spring cleaning, had given her
permission for them to take a short walk together. Earlier, as they had walked
hand in hand to the practice field, Jack decided he would not mention what had
happened between them the other night unless Tarissa brought up the subject
first.

Scrambling up from
the ground, Tarissa offered her hand. "Come on," she said. "It's
time we got cleaned up."

At first Jack
thought they would head back to the cottage, but Tarissa skimmed past the
building and led him down the back and through the trees. The earth was soft
underfoot. The past few days had been warm enough to melt much of the snow and
the soil had drunk itself sodden. A slight breeze cut past their faces, but it
wasn't enough to dry the mud on their cheeks.

"Down
here," said Tarissa as she pushed through some bushes and slid down a
rocky embankment. Jack followed her. At the bottom of the incline was a stream
that broke into a waterfall and then formed a pool of the clearest, brightest
water he had ever seen. Snow still lay white in the shadows, but the water's
edge was ringed in green and yellow. Daffodils, golden and glorious, swayed
softly on the breeze.

"Isn't it
beautiful?"

"Perfect,"
said Jack.

The water played
lightly on the rocks, dancing and tinkling and flashing like crystal. Two
willows trailed their naked branches into the pool, and somewhere in the
undergrowth the first courting calls of spring could be heard.

Tarissa took
Jack's hand and led him to the water's edge. She slipped off her shoes and
dipped a toe in the water. Pulling a face, she quickly withdrew. "It's
colder than it looks." The light reflecting from the water's surface
sparkled upon her features. There was gold to match the daffodils in the hazel
of her eyes. A streak of dirt rested upon the curve of her cheek. Jack pulled
off his waistcoat and plunged it into the water. Wringing it out, he raised the
damp cloth to her face. Gently, he began to rub the mud from her cheek.
Tarissa's skin was as smooth and warm as brass about a lantern, and the mark
came off with the lightest of touches. Next he moved to her hands, spreading
out her fingers to reach the soil that hid between. Every so often, he would
pause and dip the waistcoat in the water to wash away the dirt. Lastly, he came
to her legs. He drew her dress up to her knees and ran the cloth down the
length of her calf. Ankles, toes, and arches were cleaned with tender care. He
didn't stop until every last speck of dirt was gone.

Jack looked up to
see that Tarissa had tears in her eyes. "What's the matter?" he
asked.

"I'm sorry,
Jack."

"For
what?"

She didn't reply.
She reached out to kiss him instead. Jack tasted the salt tears'on her lips.
What did she have to be sorry about? He didn't understand. The memory of the
other evening flashed through Jack's mind and he was helpless to stop it. All
questions faded into insignificance as she moved her body closer. His hands
encircled her waist. The flesh to either side was the most tempting of
distractions.

A second later she
pulled away. Jack got the distinct impression that he'd just fallen victim to
another of Tarissa's fighting feints.

"What was
Melli to you?" she asked, diverting his thoughts a second time.

Jack thought for a
moment, and then said, "She was a friend."

"And she was
running away, too?"

How was Tarissa
able to guess so much? He hadn't told her he was running away. He was surprised
at the turn the conversation was taking. Why in this beautiful, intimate place
did Tarissa choose to talk about the past? "We were both afraid of what
would become of us if we stayed in Castle Harvell." He didn't want to lie
to her, but wasn't ready to tell the truth, either.

"Was it
something to do with what happened to you the other day, when you came in the
cottage and collapsed by the fire?" Tarissa took his hand and drew it to
her lap. "Jack, I know that you're different from other people. That much
has been obvious ever since you made the shelf fall into the fire. Why can't
you tell me about yourself? Is the truth so damning?"

Jack leaned over
the edge of the pool. Two faces were reflected upon the water's surface. It
took a split second to discern which one was his. Under the gentle light of the
shaded grove, both faces looked the same. Suddenly he knew he could tell her
anything. He felt closer to Tarissa than anyone else. She was generous and
kind; he could trust his secrets with her.

"One morning,
many months ago now, I burnt the first batch of morning loaves. I was
frantic--the master baker has beaten the hides off boys for less. I felt a pain
in my head, and the next thing I knew, I was lying on the ground and the loaves
were no longer burnt, just browning." Jack looked up to check on how
Tarissa was taking the story. She smiled a soft encouragement. He continued:

"It was
sorcery, so I had no choice but to leave the castle. I couldn't risk being
stoned." There was more to tell, and Tarissa knew it; she left the silence
for him to fill.

"For months
now I've felt as if I were being pulled along. Forced into situations where I
had little control, taking steps that I felt weren't mine to choose. Something
was drawing me forward, but I don't know why, or where I was headed. When Rovas
told that there was a chance Halcus might go to war against Bren, something
snapped inside of me. I wanted to put down everything and dash away to where
the action was. The other day when I got ill, Rovas said something about an
empire of blood-" Jack hesitated for a moment; even now the words still
haunted him. "Tarissa, when I heard him say it, it was like a blade in my
soul. My legs gave way, the world seemed to crowd around me. I thought I was
going mad."

He was shaking
now, the memory almost more than he could bare. "I felt as if I was being
punished for failing to understand."

"Failing to
understand what?" Tarissa asked.

Jack managed a
wiry smile. "I don't know. Perhaps I was meant to play a part in the
war."

"Was meant
to?"

Tarissa was quick,
more than a match for him; she'd put her finger on the heart of the matter.
"Yes. Was meant to. Something happened to me the other night, I don't know
what, but I feel free now. It's as if I've been living with my hands tied
behind my back and suddenly the ties have been cut."

"That was the
night I came to you." It was not a question.

"I don't know
what I would have done without you," said Jack. He caught hold of
Tarissa's hand and brought her fingers to his lips. "You saved me that
night. Whoever cut the ties left me with an open wound, and you were there to
stop the bleeding. I will never forget what you did. Never."

Tarissa leaned
forward and kissed his forehead. "I would do anything for you."

Hearing those
words, Jack understood the meaning of truth and friendship. There was not a
doubt in his mind: she would do anything for him. And he would do anything for
her. Jack realized he loved the chestnut-haired girl at his side. He brought
her close and held her until the willows cast their shadows into the pool.

The day was
drawing to a close by the time they headed back. It was cold now and the breeze
was trying hard to be a wind. The lights from the cottage could be seen in the
distance, and both of them were reluctant to reach their destination. Tarissa
had her arm through his and every couple of steps they would pause for kissing.

"Now that
you're free to do as you please," she said, "what will you do?"

This was a subject
that had been on Jack's mind constantly for the past two days. There was only
one thing he was certain of. Tarissa had to come with him no matter what he
did. He had come to the cottage with two skills to his name-baking and
scribing-and he would leave with a third: fighting. Somehow among the three he
should be able to make a living for Tarissa and himself. The question was,
where to start from? He would never go back to the kingdoms, and he now had no
desire to see the city of his dreams. So Bren was not an option. Despite his
stay here, Halcus was, and always would be, enemy territory. That left Annis
and Highwall.

Highwall was a
fortress city. Named for the size of its battlements, it was almost a match for
its greatest rival, Bren. It was famous for producing the best weapons in the
north and the skill of its engineers was legendary. If war was coming, then
Highwall would be certain to play a major part. Annis, on the other hand, was
said to be a place of beauty and learning, of craftsmen and artisans and
artists. Jack remembered his mother had a bracelet carved from bone, It was
intricately crafted and inlaid with silver and quartz. When he asked her about
where it came from, she said it was made in Annis. Perhaps he would head there,
then. Not because he thought he would learn anything new about his mother-she
had bought the bracelet from a tradesman visiting Castle Harvell, or so she
said-but because it was obviously a city that valued honest skills and fine
workmanship. And, if he couldn't get a job as a baker or a scribe, then sooner
or later his newly acquired ability with a blade would come in useful. Annis
might not be famous for soldiering, but its people would fight if they believed
themselves threatened.

"I think we
will head for Annis," he said.

"We?"

Jack felt a little
abashed. He grinned, probably rather sheepishly. "Well, I was
hoping-"

"Hoping, were
you?" interrupted Tarissa, stopping in her tracks and putting hands to
hips. "Next time perhaps you should ask before you hope." Her voice
was brutal, but her eyes gave her away.

Jack swept her off
the ground. She scratched; she kicked; she screamed. "Are you coming with
me to Annis?" he asked, still holding her firmly. "Or will I have to
throw you down the hill?"

Tarissa's feet
were kicking air. Her face was beet-root red. "We're not on a hill,"
she cried.

"Well, I'll
just have to carry you until I find one, then." Jack slung her over his
shoulder as if she were a sack of grain and began walking back the way they'd
come. Tarissa screamed afresh, kneed him in the chest, and pummeled his back
with her fists.

Jack began to
whistle and broke into a run, or as close as he could manage under the
circumstances.

This seemed to
have the desired effect, for Tarissa stopped fighting and shouted, "All
right, all right, I'll come with you to Annis. Just put me down!"

Jack held her
firm. "Is that a promise?"

"Yes!"
Tarissa was on the ground in an instant. A second later she was chasing him
back toward the cottage.

In his whole life,
Jack could not remember ever being so happy. He had been worried in case
Tarissa hadn't wanted to come with him; after all, the only life she knew was
here in Halcus. Rovas was many things: a liar, a user, and a bully, but he
provided well for his family, and Tarissa would be giving up a life of comfort
and stability. She was taking a risk coming with him. There was no telling what
Rovas might do when he found out that she and her mother were gone. He
considered them his property, and he wouldn't take kindly to them taking off
without his permission.

Jack kissed
Tarissa lightly on the cheek. He would not let her down.

There was nothing
he wouldn't do for her. Jack's mind raced ahead of his legs. He would work day
and night. Surely someone would employ him as a baker. In the evenings he could
scribe by candlelight. He no longer felt worried about people discovering he
wasn't normal: sorcery seemed a thing of the past. If anything happened again,
he felt confident he could control it. As long as he had Tarissa, he could do
anything.

There would be
problems, though. He had no letters of introduction, no proof of his trade. Money
would be very tight and they might have to live roughly for a while. And then
there was Magra. She had to come with them; Tarissa would have it no other way.
They were mother and daughter, and Jack understood the value of family. There
would be three in the party for Annis.

Jack knew it was a
great responsibility that he was taking on, but he felt as if he needed to do
it, not only for Tarissa, but for himself. Two nights back something had
happened; it was almost as if a part of him had been taken away. He felt
lighter and more free than he had in months, yet the sensation of
weightlessness, of having no ties, no responsibility and no fate, left him with
a feeling akin to hunger. There had to be a meaning to his life. He didn't want
to drift aimlessly with no purpose or commitments, with nothing to worry about
but feeding and clothing himself. His back was built to bear more.

Tarissa and Magra
would be his purpose. He would spend all his waking hours working to give them
everything they needed It would be a welcome burden.

After a minute or
so of being chased, Jack decided to let himself be caught. Tarissa ran toward
him, giggling and cursing and out of breath. "So I'm forced to go with you
to Annis?"

"You wouldn't
want to break your promise."

"I wouldn't want
to be without you." She raised her head and kissed him softly. "I
love you, Jack," she said, taking his hand and leading him back toward the
cottage.

Rovas was waiting
for them. A bench lay upturned on the floor and Magra was busy mopping up what
looked to be the remains of a bowl of stew. Jack was instantly on guard.

"Where have
you been?" demanded Rovas, his voice dangerously low.

"I have
already told you that," said Magra, looking up from the floor and speaking
very precisely. "I sent Jack to look for Tarissa. I was worried about her.
She had been out on her own too long."