“Tamnais Nathrach, traitor to his king and his people,” Nath said.
“What’s the small print?”
Nath waved a dismissing hand. “Property of the king, trespass under pain of torture, death, dismemberment, etcetera, etcetera.”
“And that’s where the Resistance is holed up?” I asked. “Uh, isn’t that a little obvious?”
“The Khrynsani have searched it more than once,” Jash said. “And they continue to keep it under occasional surveillance, which is why we’re never seen on the surface. Sometimes the best place to hide is the most obvious.”
Nath flashed a huge grin. “We could hardly call ourselves the Resistance if we didn’t spit in the king’s eye every chance we get.”
Words had been painted on the boards covering the windows. I could see those just fine. “Murderer” and “traitor” were some of the nicer things written about Tam on his own home. The others made my blood boil.
Tam was completely unruffled—at least on the outside.
“Khrynsani penmanship?” Mychael asked.
“Unfortunately not,” Imala said. “The king has organized our youth into a feeder organization for the Khrynsani. You join or your loyalty and that of your entire family is suspect. Sathrik sees it as a way to get new blood from the old families. Young minds, easily influenced. Young men and women who are held up by Sathrik as the models of our next generation. The king honors them, promises them power, and fans the flames of hate and bigotry—then handsomely rewards those who act on his poisonous ideology.”
All signs of playful humor were gone from Nath’s eyes. “More than a few of them have turned in their own parents as traitors to the crown.”
“And people think I’m trouble,” Talon muttered.
The door opened into a wine cellar. Though there wasn’t any wine here anymore; I guess that just made it a cellar.
Tam looked around, bemused. “Been drinking much, Nath?”
“On the king’s orders, Sarad Nukpana confiscated all of it when you left,” Nath said. “As well as anything else he liked. The house has been pretty much stripped.”
Tam didn’t say anything, but I could see the additional items added to the tally of what Tam planned to take out of Sarad Nukpana’s hide.
Racks lined the stone walls and ran in rows everywhere else. They were all empty. One rack had been made to hold casks. Likewise empty, except for a few smashed ones on the floor. The cellar was lit by small torches. Looked like we were expected. There were fine crystal lightglobes suspended from the ceiling, but they were dark. I guess even small light magic could attract Khrynsani patrols.
The torchlight was barely bright enough to reach the floor, but it was enough to see that the floor was covered with broken dark glass. Wine bottles. Someone had tried to clear a path to the stairs on the far side of the cellar, plies of glass shards mounded on either side of a path of exposed flagstones.
An elderly goblin stood motionless at the end of one of the racks. His clothes were dark and formal, and looked like a uniform of sorts. They had been carefully mended, and were as neat and proper as they could be, but they had clearly seen better days.
The old goblin stood straight and dignified.
Tears stood in Tam’s eyes. “Barrett.”
The butler indicated the wooden tray he held holding a single bottle. “The king appropriated the silver and the crystal, and either took or destroyed all of the wine. However, I managed to hide a case of your favorite port. I didn’t think you would be inconvenienced by partaking from the bottle.” He bowed slightly from the waist. “Welcome home, Your Grace.”
Tam crossed the floor to Barrett in three strides, taking the port in one hand, and wrapping his other arm around the old butler’s thin shoulders, pulling him into a hug.
Barrett’s voice was muffled against Tam’s chest. “Sir, this is unseemly.”
“Yes, it is,” Tam agreed, his voice thick with emotion, hugging him harder.
A voice came from the shadowed stairs.
“Will I get such a warm greeting?” said a low, feminine voice from the shadows. She stepped forward, the torchlight illuminating a silken sheet of hair so black that it had blue highlights. Her dark eyes shone with a sharp wit and keen intelligence. The goblin woman held herself with exaggerated dignity, as if she was uncertain of the reception she was going to receive—or undecided on what reception she was going to give.
Tam released Barrett, but other than that, he didn’t move.
“Mother,” he said quietly.
Chapter 7
“Are you?”
“I am.” Her half smile came tinged with sadness. “Though if I were not, could you blame me?”
Tam didn’t hesitate. “No.”
No one said anything for one long and very awkward minute. At least. Anything I could have said wouldn’t even have put a knick in the tension in that air, so I kept my mouth shut. And yes, it is possible.
I didn’t need any kind of link with Tam or to be a mind reader to hear the words between the words. Tam had hinted over the years at the damage done to his family when he embraced black magic, and again when he’d been forced to flee Regor after his wife’s murder.
Wordlessly, Tam gave the bottle of port back to Barrett and walked slowly toward his mother, stopping just out of arm’s reach. Wise man.
“I have shamed my family, my family name, and the ancestors who gave it to me,” Tam said. “I do not expect nor deserve forgiveness for my choices and actions. I have come home to offer my service, my devotion, and my life if need be. I only ask that you would do me the honor of accepting it.”
Lady Deidre Nathrach took one step toward her son and, for a few silent moments, did nothing. Then she gently put her hands on either side of Tam’s face, drew his forehead down to her lips, and kissed him softly. With a trembling sigh, she touched her forehead to his.
Tam’s breath shuddered.
I sniffed. A couple of others sniffed from the shadows.
Tam’s arms remained by his side, and he bowed his head farther.
Deidre Nathrach’s hands dropped from Tam’s head to his shoulders, wrapping her arms around her son in a fierce embrace. With a soft cry, Tam returned the embrace, lifting his mother’s feet off of the floor.
“Candle smoke,” Nath said, noticing my sniff. “There’s no accounting for cheap wax.”
I dabbed at my eyes. “So that’s what it is.”
Deidre released Tam, but their heads remained close, whispers between a mother and son that no one else needed to hear.
When they parted, Tam introduced Mychael, Piaras, and me. No doubt, Lady Nathrach knew Imala and Prince Chigaru.
Once again, he stopped when he got to Talon.
Talon was standing in the shadows, as close to the door we’d come in as possible. Tam glanced at him and
