Tyne wasn’t aware that he was staring or that his mouth was hanging open until his brother turned to him. The Nazar’s eyes narrowed with amusement and he lifted a brow in question. Tyne remembered himself and pulled himself up straight, thrusting out his chest. Jarrett gave him the briefest nod of approval before turning to the other two men.
“I’d like to introduce you to my brother, Tyne Trauner.”
The Stravad was the first to shake Tyne’s hand. “A pleasure to meet you.”
“The pleasure is mine, Elder,” he said, hoping his inflections in the strange tongue were right.
The Stravad smiled. “Thalandar, please.”
“This is Tasamer Haldane,” said the Nazar.
Tyne accepted Tash’s hand reverently and he bent to one knee, pressing his hand to his lips. Tash’s eyes widened and he reached out to pull the boy to his feet.
“That isn’t necessary, young man,” he said firmly.
“But, my lord, it’s a great honor to meet you. I know well the tale of your feats as a warrior and I have long admired you.”
Tash seemed pleased by the boy’s words, but Thalandar laughed. “Please don’t get him started. We’ll be up all night listening to his fantastic feats if you do.”
Tash glared at the Stravad. “At least my stories are interesting. If I have to hear about the forming of the Temerian Council again, I’ll die.”
“Ah, tough old leather like you doesn’t die, it petrifies,” said Thalandar, placing his arm around Jarrett’s shoulder and directing him toward the parlor.
Tyne followed the men. Would his wonder never cease? A Nazarien warrior would never insult another in that manner. To do so would mean they’d come to blows.
“I’m glad you came, Jarrett,” said Thalandar, motioning for Jarrett to take a seat.
The Nazar eased himself onto the seat and shifted his sword out of the way. Tyne sat down where indicated, like his brother his back straight, his body alert. Even at rest a Nazarien warrior remained alert.
Thalandar turned to a table against one wall where a decanter and a tray of glasses sat.
“I trust the trip wasn’t overly long.”
“No, it gave me time to summon enough courage to pass under the gates of the city.”
Both Thalandar and Tash nodded in understanding, but Tyne stared at his brother in shock. The Nazar was the bravest man Tyne had ever met. He’d never once indicated that he feared coming to the Stravad capital.
Thalandar began pouring out glasses, so Tash picked up the conversation. “We’re all thankful that you were so willing to answer our summons. We know it was difficult for you to leave Chernow, especially since you’re Nazar.”
“I had to come, Tash. You needn’t thank me for doing what I had to do.”
Tash reached up to accept the glass Thalandar offered him. The Stravad held out a glass to the Nazar. Next Thalandar moved toward Tyne and again the boy fought to hide his surprise. He wasn’t yet a man. No boy would dare take a drink before reaching manhood, and even then Nazarien rarely drank, only at the most sacred of ceremonies.
“No, thank you, Elder.”
Thalandar shrugged and took a glass for himself, sitting down on the divan beside Tyne. “How are things in Chernow?” he asked, taking a sip from his glass.
“Things are running smoothly. With Tyla running Temeron, and Kalas in power over Sarkisian and Adishian, Samar has never been so peaceful.”
Tash smiled and drained his glass in one gulp. “My brother doesn’t know what to do with himself in Zelan. I keep telling him he’s too old to be wanting adventure and that when you seek it, it finds you, usually more of it than you really want.”
“True,” said Thalandar, draining his own glass. He reached behind him and grabbed the decanter, filling both of their glasses again.
Jarrett shifted. “How is she, Tash?” he asked in an almost pleading voice.
Tash stiffened and his eyes shot to Thalandar’s face. “She’s well, Jarrett. Worried like the rest of us about this whole thing.”
Jarrett drew in a breath and held it. “I’m still muddy on everything. How did this happen?”
Tash looked into his glass and didn’t speak. Jarrett shifted his attention to Thalandar.
Thalandar settled his glass on the table. “From what we’ve gathered, Jax Paden was an adventurer with a particular love of the ocean. He went to Kazden and learned to sail, or so we think. On one of his trips, he found an island and went ashore. Things get a little muddy for us here as well. By the time he was brought home, he was so far gone, we got only snatches of the story.”
“But he had this illness?”
“Yes, and everyone who treated him got it as well…” Thalandar paused and glanced at Tash. “Tyla believes it has the potential to become a plague if it isn’t stopped.”
Jarrett closed his eyes for a moment. Tyne felt the tension in the room, but he knew better than to fidget. Nazarien warriors didn’t fidget.
“Go back. How did this Jax contract the illness?”
“We’re not sure. His leg was badly infected. In fact, they had to amputate it. They thought it would be enough, but he started coughing up blood. In the end, he drowned in it. No one who treated him escaped it. He breathed it out into the air, he sweat it out through his pores.”
“Didn’t they take precautions to keep from getting infected?”
“Of course they did, but apparently it wasn’t enough.”
“He died?”
“Yes.”
“Have any of the healers died?”
“No. Tyla thinks Jax contracted it through the wound on his leg. She believes those that contracted it from direct contact with him have a slower disease process.”
“Which means it might not be lethal?”
Tash looked up and his expression was stark. “Are you willing to chance that?”
Jarrett didn’t immediately answer. Finally, he leaned back in his chair. “No.”
“We think the island is called Delure. He may have made contact with people there,” Thalandar continued.
Jarrett frowned. “People? Stravad? Humans?”
“No,” said Thalandar. “Other people. His descriptions weren’t like anything we know. People seven feet tall with pale green skin.”
Tyne leaned forward in interest. “Not Orahim?”
“No. He described their strange obsidian eyes and a dome city.”
Tyne felt Jarrett’s eyes on him. He quickly schooled his features and leaned back, gripping the arms of the chair with both hands.
“We can talk about this later,” said the Nazar. Tyne knew the change of topic was deliberate. There was something he didn’t want Tyne to know. “She doesn’t know I’ve come, does she?”
“No, she doesn’t,” answered Tash.
“It won’t be pleasant when she does.”
Tash sighed. “No, it won’t. Not for any of us.”
“Why?” asked Tyne before he could bite back the word. He shrank down in his chair and dropped his eyes from his brother’s stunned expression. All of this talk had unsettled him. Why had they sent to Chernow for Jarrett? What could his brother do to help?
Jarrett started to respond, but the door opened and another Stravad walked into the room.
CHAPTER 2
“Jarrett,” said the Stravad, grasping his arm. Then he moved forward and embraced him. “The guards told me you’d arrived. Sorry for the secretive entrance and all.”
“You don’t have to apologize, Kendrick.” He took in the Stravad’s well-cut uniform and his healthy brown skin. Kendrick had allowed his hair to grow long in the Lodenian style and it now hung in a thick, blonde mane over his shoulders. In the ten years since the two companions had parted, Kendrick hadn’t aged. “You look good.”
Kendrick also surveyed him in return. “You wear the uniform of the Nazar well.” He released him and stepped back. “I’m sorry for the loss of your father.”
Jarrett shrugged, but he didn’t an
swer. He knew that Kendrick understood his feelings regarding Tomlin were conflicted. He motioned to Tyne and the boy leapt to his feet, hurrying to his side. “This is Tyne Trauner, my brother.”
Kendrick smiled and shook the boy’s hand. “A pleasure to meet you,” he said.
“Elder, may Eldon’s light shine on you,” answered Tyne, bowing his head.
Kendrick lifted his eyes to Jarrett’s and a spark of mutual understanding passed between them. “I heard you took your father’s name, Jarrett.”
“It stemmed some of the disgruntlement in the order.”
Kendrick smiled. “I can imagine. Nazarien are anything but adaptable.”
Tyne stiffened beside him and Jarrett placed a hand on his shoulder. Kendrick shot an amused look at the boy. Jarrett was struck with how odd the situation was. Ten years ago, Kendrick was one of the staunchest defenders of the order. They had sparred over it repeatedly. Temeron had certainly settled into his blood.
“When will you let Tyla know I’m here?” Even as he spoke the words, he couldn’t help the rush of heat to his face or the quickening of his pulse. Ten years and she could still make his blood roar.
Kendrick laughed grimly. “If she doesn’t know already, it won’t be long before she does. I wanted you to arrive, to be a reality here in Temeron, before I broached the subject with her.” He paused and drew a deep breath. “This idea of going to the island has all of us alarmed, but she won’t drop it. She insists she had to go herself.”
Jarrett glanced at Tyne. The boy was soaking up everything they said. Jarrett didn’t want him knowing the whole plan just yet. He knew Tyne would disapprove.
His thoughts shifted back to Tyla. The thought of seeing her caused a war of emotions inside of him. “Has she asked about me?”
Kendrick drew a deep breath and exhaled. “No, Jarrett, she hasn’t. It became a closed subject when you left.”
Jarrett’s gaze shifted to Tash and Thalandar. They both looked away uncomfortably. Ten years might have passed, but the wounds were still open. Although Tash and Thalandar had welcomed him into their home, they obviously didn’t understand. He hadn’t left voluntarily, but they thought he had, lured by a pact made with Tomlin. They didn’t understand there had been no pact. He’d been blackmailed.
“I’m sorry, Jarrett,” offered Kendrick.
Jarrett nodded, but he couldn’t speak. Only Kendrick knew the truth, and Kendrick had guarded his secret for the past decade. What good would it do to explain it to anyone else? Ten years were gone, lost, and there was no way to get them back.
Tyne was staring at him, absorbing all of the information. He wanted to ask questions, Jarrett saw them on his lips, but now wasn’t the time to explain the circumstances.
Kendrick shifted and his expression grew troubled. “There’s something you need to know.”
He felt the anxious eyes of both Tash and Thalandar on him, and he knew Kendrick’s information was going to cause him pain. Part of him wanted to run away from all of this, from this flood of bittersweet memories, but he couldn’t. Tyla was in trouble and he had to be here beside her, even if it meant breaking the pledge he’d made to his father all those years before, even if it meant tempting fate.
Kendrick opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, the door opened and a young boy’s voice could be heard in the hall.
“Grandfather?”
Tash and Thalandar both started to their feet and Kendrick turned toward the hall. He stopped the boy before he could enter the parlor and tried to guide him back.
“Kendrick, I thought I saw you head this way…”
“Wait outside and I’ll be with you in a moment.”
Kendrick’s back blocked Jarrett’s view of the child, but he knew. He felt his heart hammering in his ears, blood surging through his body.
“Mama sent me to get you.” The boy tried to peer around the Stravad, but Kendrick turned him toward the door.
“Tell your mother I’ll be there shortly.”
Jarrett’s eyes flashed to Tash’s face, but Tash wouldn’t meet his eye.
“I want to see Grandfather and Thalandar,” persisted the boy.
“Tomorrow, Kerrin, I’m tired...” said Tash.
Despite the raging blood in his head, Jarrett forced himself to speak. “Let the boy come into the room, Kendrick.”
Kendrick straightened.
Intrigued by the unfamiliar voice with its unfamiliar accent, the boy peered around the Stravad. His eyes widened and he moved away from Kendrick into the parlor.
Jarrett gripped the back of the chair. His knees threatened to give way.
The boy was tall for his age and uncommonly handsome. He had thick black hair, which fell to his shoulders, and Stravad brown skin. His eyes were blue, not the common blue of a Stravad, but a strangely brilliant blue.
The boy moved forward, staring at the Nazar with his piercing eyes. Tyne glanced between the child and his brother in astonishment.
Jarrett lowered himself to one knee in front of the boy, searching the handsome, young face. The boy’s eyes moved to the medallions in Jarrett’s ear.
“Are you the Nazar?”
Jarrett swallowed. Nausea roiled in his gut. “Yes. What’s your name?” He managed to force the words out.
“Kerrin. What’s your name?” Then he seemed to remember himself. “Or should I call you Nazar?”
Jarrett’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. He briefly closed his eyes and fought for composure. “You can call me Jarrett. How old are you, Kerrin?”
“Nearly ten, well in a few more months – five to be exact. Are you here to help Mama?”
Jarrett didn’t need to ask who this boy’s mother was. It was there in his features, in the blue cast of his black hair. “I hope so.”
The boy nodded.
Kendrick placed his hand on the boy’s shoulders. “Tell your mother that I’ll be along in a minute.” He turned the boy to face him, but Kerrin’s eyes were still riveted on Jarrett. “Kerrin,” he said gently and the boy looked up at him. “Please tell your mother I’ll be there in a moment.” He tightened his grip. “It’s important that you not tell her of our visitors just yet. I’ll tell her tomorrow, but I don’t want to upset her tonight. Will you promise not to say anything?”
The boy nodded, his eyes drifting back to Jarrett. “I won’t say anything.”
Kendrick released him. “Run along then.”
Kerrin backed from the room, shooting a final look at his grandfather before he disappeared into the hallway.
Jarrett watched after him until the door slammed. Pushing himself to his feet, he locked eyes with Kendrick.
The Stravad met his gaze.
“He’s my son, isn’t he?”
Kendrick grimaced. “I’m sorry, Jarrett, I hoped to prepare you before you saw him…”
“He’s my son, isn’t he?" said Jarrett through clenched teeth.
The Stravad nodded. “He’s your son.”
Jarrett swallowed and shut his eyes, his chest expanding with a deeply drawn breath. He called on all the calming techniques the Nazarien had taught him, but nothing seemed to assuage the fury and hurt that broiled inside of him.
“No one ever thought to tell me I had a son in ten years?” he said, struggling violently to maintain control.
Thalandar and Kendrick both dropped their eyes. Only Tash met his gaze. “Tyla almost bled to death giving birth to him. When she begged us to protect him, we all agreed. For her, protecting him meant that we never tell you of his birth. We didn’t want to do it, Jarrett, but we would have done anything to ease her fear at that moment. We thought we were going to lose her.”
Jarrett’s breathing was ragged. Ten years had passed and during those ten years he’d missed out on having a son. During all of the procreation ceremonies, during each Valhall, he’d fasted and prayed instead of coupling as the other Nazarien did, holding true to his wife and his love for her. For ten years he’d dreamed of having a son of his
own, a child like Tyne, to care for and love, but he’d never once given in to that need, never once taken another woman to his bed.
His eyes shifted to Kendrick. “How could you do this to me?”
“I had no choice. Tyla begged me to keep it a secret, Jarrett. Tell me what you would have done. Look me in the eyes and tell me you would have refused her any request.”
Jarrett swallowed hard, but he thought he’d gag. His throat was so impossibly tight, breathing was difficult. “I never would have left if I had known.” Then realization struck. She hadn’t wanted him to know because she hated him for leaving her, but she didn’t understand. If he hadn’t left, she would have died.
Backing away from Kendrick, he took a seat on the divan and placed his head in his hands. What had he expected to find after all these years? That Tyla was still in love with him as he was with her, that she was willing to renew their marriage? The sight of Kerrin only clarified the truth. There would never be anything between them again. Tyla despised him so much that she had kept him away from his own son.
He lifted his head when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Thalandar stood before him with a glass of brandy. “Sometimes a man needs a little help,” he said gently.
Jarrett closed his hand around the glass.
* * *
Jarrett couldn’t sleep. Kendrick had left sometime before, and Thalandar and Tash had retired without saying much of anything. For a long time, Tyne had sat staring at him, wanting to ask him questions, but he was perceptive enough to know it wasn’t a good time. Finally Jarrett insisted he go to bed.
Now he was alone and for the first time in a very long time, he didn’t want to be. He wandered out of Tash and Thalandar’s cottage to the back porch and stood looking over the gardens, a glass of brandy in his hand.
He couldn’t see much of the gardens since the moon was only a sliver on this night, but he felt Tyla’s presence here. He was sure she had planted each plant herself.
He lifted the glass and drank, enjoying the burning sensation as it ran down his throat and into his stomach. He hadn’t drank this much alcohol in the last ten years and he knew he’d pay for it the next day, but he didn’t care. Leaning against the rail, he turned the glass in his hand and then reached for the decanter, pouring another.
The World of Samar Box Set 3 Page 55
