The Silent Tempest (Book 2)

  “Don’t blame him,” said Tyrion. “He knew if he didn’t get you here I’d make sure there wasn’t enough left of him or his family to bury.”

  “The forest gods are coming for them. Daniel is here to take them to safety, to hide them. There isn’t a better option,” said Kate, raising her voice to be heard above the crowd.

  Dalton Brown spoke then, “I wouldn’t trust my David with him. He’s a monster.”

  At that point someone near the back threw a stone, arcing it over the crowd to bounce off of Tyrion’s personal shield. A scuffle ensued as the wiser heads near the stone-thrower wrestled the man to the ground.

  Tyrion laughed, “I’m not here to kill anyone today, not even stupid people.”

  “Then you should leave, ‘cause you’re not taking my daughter!” shouted Rachel Moore.

  Showing his teeth he strode forward, until he stood directly in front of Rachel. The woman almost collapsed, but he gripped the front of her dress before she could fall. Her daughter, Abigail, cried fearfully as she stood behind her mother.

  “That doesn’t mean I won’t stoop to other forms of persuasion,” he growled into the frightened mother’s face. His nose picked up the scent of urine, and his magesight confirmed his suspicion, Rachel Moore had lost control of her bladder. He released her, letting her fall backward.

  “Let the devil have them. They’re demon-cursed anyway,” muttered someone from the crowd.

  “Children to the right,” commanded Tyrion, “the rest of you over on the left.”

  Some moved to obey, others stood dumbly. He nudged and herded those who were in shock, using invisible planes of force to separate them. Like sheep for the shearing, he thought silently. Many of the teens cried, while others glared angrily at him. Some cursed, but he ignored them.

  “Why are you doing it like this?” asked Kate. “You’re making it worse. They might understand if you just talked to them.”

  He gave her a warm smile, “There’s no time. My way is faster.”

  Kate looked away, unnerved by his bizarre expression, “This isn’t right.”

  Tyrion was counting the youths he had winnowed away from their parents… thirteen, fourteen…

  He should have fifteen. Their tally earlier had been sixteen, counting Haley who was in Sabortrea. There was one missing. “Who isn’t here?” he asked.

  “Gabriel Evans,” said Kate. “We were sorting that out before you got here. He and his mother hadn’t shown up yet.

  Evans… The name seemed vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t remember the woman.

  Kate sighed, “Mona Evans. She lives at the end of the road, past the Price house. Her husband left her after he found out she was pregnant. She’s been raising Gabriel by herself.”

  The name “Mona” he remembered, but he still couldn’t think of what she had looked like. “Well, we had best send someone to fetch him then.” He looked over the crowd of upset men and women he had separated from the teens. Pointing at five men he called out, “You, you, you, you, and you… go find Gabriel Evans and bring him here. I don’t really care if Mona comes along or not.”

  They looked at him uncertainly, then one of them spoke up. “She won’t listen to us.”

  “I’m not asking you to talk to her, Mr. Baker,” said Tyrion.

  One of the others, Gary Carter, protested, “You don’t expect us to drag him from his home?”

  Tyrion gave him a cold stare before gesturing at Wilma Carter, “Do you like your wife, Mr. Carter? If you do, I suggest you make certain you return with Gabriel as swiftly as possible. That goes for the rest of you as well.” He opened the shield behind them.

  They shuffled for a moment until he shouted at them, “Go!”

  The men began running, and he looked at the others, “The rest of you can leave.”

  People scattered.

  The crying of the teens left behind grew louder. The sound annoyed him, and his stomach was rumbling. “I’m going inside to eat,” he told Kate. “Shut them up, so they don’t disturb my appetite.”

  Her anger flared again, “Or what?!”

  Leaning in close to her ear he whispered, “Or I’ll burn their tongues out.” He turned away and ushered Alice and Tom Hayes back into the store, leaving Kate and the children in the street. He enclosed them in a new shield to make sure none of them ran.

  Kate spat into the dirt behind him as he left, and he heard her mutter something almost inaudibly.

  It sounded as if she had said, “Liar”, but he let it go. “Alice, I’ll expect a better lunch. No more of that pig-swill you called porridge this morning…”

  Chapter 11

  The men returned while he was still eating the ham Alice Hayes had brought out. They brought Gabriel Evans in through the front door of the store while his mother, Mona, screamed at them from the street.

  It was enough to ruin his appetite. I feel nothing.

  He kept eating, hoping none of them would realize his heart was no longer in it. His hold over them would be weakened if they knew his stomach was churning. Years among the She’Har had taught him the deepest secrets of intimidation. They must never suspect that anything remained of the person he had once been.

  I feel nothing.

  “Leave the boy and escort his mother home,” he commanded without looking up from his plate.

  He made a point of taking his time with the rest of the food. When he had finished, he addressed Tom Hayes who sat awkwardly at one end of the table, “I’ll need a wagon, a sturdy mule, and provisions to last at least a week. Make sure you include blankets, water, food, and the rest of that delicious ham.”

  Tom’s eyes bugged a little, “I only have the one mule. I need it for the store or else…”

  “Seth Tolburn has a new mare,” suggested Tyrion, interrupting. “He might trade it to you if you need a replacement.”

  “But the wagon, and the rest, I can’t…”

  “Have it ready within an hour. Those kids out there will need it. Make sure they aren’t left wanting. Understand?”

  Tom Hayes closed his mouth, unhappy but afraid to protest further.

  Tyrion smiled. “I will be back again. If I feel that your packing and provisions were lackluster, I will make certain to visit you.”

  The store owner left, and Alice spoke up, “Is there anything else you…?”

  “Pack up the rest of this pig and go help him. Make sure the cheap bastard doesn’t let his stingy nature get the best of him,” he ordered.

  Gabriel Evans still stood in the corner, watching him silently with wide eyes. The boy was afraid, but he kept his fear under control. Tyrion couldn’t help but be impressed with the teen’s composure. Rising from the table, he walked over to inspect the youth.

  Long limbs and wild hair were the first things that stood out. Gabriel’s hair was brown, a gift from his mother no doubt, most of Tyrion’s other children had dark hair. He was still thin, but he would probably fill out with time. His bones indicated he might be quite tall when he had finished growing.

  “You seem calm,” he told the boy. “Are you always so cool, child?”

  “N—no, sir,” answered Gabriel.

  “You’re worried, then,” said Tyrion, nodding. “It must feel something like facing a mad dog, eh lad? Stand still, don’t run, no sudden moves, otherwise the beast will be on you.” He leaned in, until his face was only an inch from Gabriel’s nose. “Is that what you’re feeling?”

  The boy nodded, his head bobbing almost imperceptibly. “Yes, sir,” he almost whispered.

  Tyrion straightened up, “You could have run. When they left, while I was eating. Nothing held you here. Your mother was still calling for you outside, but you didn’t move. Were you too afraid to move?”

  Gabriel swallowed, “No, sir. I was thinking about my mom. I didn’t want…” His words trailed off as the teen realized his words might offend the man in front of him.

  “You didn’t want me to hurt her, did you boy? Is that right?”
br />   Gabriel nodded.

  “At least you’re honest,” said Tyrion approvingly. “I can appreciate that, so I’ll give you some advice. Fear isn’t always bad, but it isn’t always good either, it’s a tool. Master it and you can use it to become stronger, faster—sharper. Let it rule you, and it will make you a slave in a way that no chain could ever do. Do you hate me, Gabriel?”

  The teen shook his head, “N—no, sir.”

  “Then you’re either a fool, or that was your first lie. You should hate me; I expect you to. You can use that as well.”

  Emboldened by Tyrion’s seeming rationality, the boy spoke up, “What are you planning to do with me, with all of us?”

  Tyrion started to answer but then paused, “Let me get the others, so I don’t have to repeat myself.”

  He went outside and released the shield around the other teens, thinking to order them inside, but as soon as the invisible wall vanished, one of the males started running.

  “Damnitt all!” muttered Tyrion. He sent his will outward, forming a long rope-like line of force to wrap itself firmly around the youth’s ankles. The boy fell, slamming his chin on the hard packed dirt surface of the road.

  The boy screamed as his captor dragged him back toward the others, flailing his arms and crying for someone to help him. The few windows facing the main street that weren’t already closed were shuttered as people sought to block out the view or perhaps the sound of the scene in the street.

  Tyrion grabbed the boy by the collar of his shirt, causing the fabric to rip slightly as he hauled him to his feet.

  Frantic the young man twisted in his grasp, turning to face the man who held him. One arm half raised to strike at Tyrion. He froze as he saw the look in his captor’s eyes.

  “Time to calm down, boy. Let’s not do anything you’ll regret.”

  The teen stared at him, wild-eyed, but he didn’t move. Blood dripped to the ground from the split skin on his chin.

  Tyrion placed one finger under the boy’s chin, lifting it, and then sealing the wound. “You’ll have a scar there. Next time could be worse. I expect you’ll make better choices from here on.”

  The kid nodded, still fearful.

  “What’s your name, boy?” He knew the names on the list they had come up with, but he couldn’t yet match the faces to them all.

  “Blake,” said the youth after a short pause.

  “Blake what?”

  “Blake Cruz.”

  That meant he was Samantha Cruz’s son. Tyrion remembered her, thick hair and dark eyes, Samantha had been one of the more beautiful women he had wronged. She had been unmarried when he had beguiled her, and the pregnancy had probably ruined her chances of finding a husband.

  “You don’t look much like your mother,” noted Tyrion. The boy was a tangle of skinny arms and legs. He looked healthy, but his bones were too prominent. Blake showed little of his mother’s grace and poise.

  “She said I look a lot like you did,” admitted the youth.

  Was I that ugly once? Tyrion wondered. “Go stand with the others.”

  Once they were all together again, Tyrion raised his voice, “We’re going to be together for a long time, and there are some things you need to understand, so you don’t make a similar mistake to young Blake here.

  “The first thing you should know, is that I can see in the dark. I can even see through walls. There is no place you can hide. I can reach you from great distances, whether to paralyze or to punish. I have been tolerant so far, but my patience is in short supply.

  “Most of you live here in town, so I expect you should know it well. Who can tell me what lies behind the Brown’s house over there?”

  No one spoke.

  Tyrion sighed, then picked out one of the few he already knew on sight, “Thaddeus. What lies behind Mr. Brown’s house?”

  Tad swallowed, then answered, “A small shed, sir.”

  Tyrion nodded, “That’s correct, but I’d rather not destroy Mr. Brown’s shed. What else is back there?”

  “They have an outhouse,” volunteered Tad.

  “Yes, they do,” agreed Tyrion smiling as he focused. He sent invisible streamers of force outward, guiding them around the small home and past the shed. When they reached the outhouse he changed their nature, and with a sudden pulse of energy the wooden outbuilding burst into flames. Smoke rose from behind the Brown home. “Or I suppose we should say, ‘they did’.”

  Shock registered on some of their faces, while others continued to stare dumbly at him. He supposed they’d had a lot of surprises for one day. Tyrion knew from the past that there was a point at which people simply couldn’t register any more fear or surprise. At some point the mind would just go blank.

  He glanced at Brigid, “Go look behind the Brown home, and then come tell the others what you see there.”

  She nodded and then began quick stepping in that direction, uncertain whether she would be allowed to run or not. They waited for a long minute until she returned. “The outhouse is on fire,” she told them.

  “Good,” said Tyrion. “I think all of you should be able to learn from that. Now, let’s go inside the store. I’d like to talk to you all a little further before we leave.”

  Brigid piped up then, “What about the fire?”

  “I’ve already suppressed it,” he reassured her. Dalton and Fiona Brown would have to endure the smell of smoke for a long while whenever they used it, but he had made sure the damage was mostly cosmetic. “Move along, we don’t have all day.”

  Once they were inside, he had them all line up along one wall before asking them to name themselves. He did his utmost to memorize their faces, and when they were done he repeated them back to them. He forgot one or two, but after another repetition he was sure he had them all firmly in his memory.

  “Today we will be taking a trip, away from Colne, away from your parents, away from everything you’ve ever known. We will be entering the deep woods, treading upon the domain of the forest gods. Do any of you know why?”

  One of the girls raised her hand, “She told us that the forest gods are bad, that you’re really trying to protect us from them.” The girl’s name was Sarah Wilson, and she was indicating Kate as she spoke.

  Tyrion nodded once, “That’s partly true. The reason they’re coming is because you may have inherited the same powers that I have. That would make each of you very valuable to the She’Har, but not in the way you might think. They don’t want you for a higher purpose. There are several different groups of them, called ‘Groves’. They use humans with abilities like mine in their games.

  “Games isn’t really a good term either,” he said, continuing. “They compete with one another, using human slaves as their proxies in arena combat. When they discovered that I had produced children before I was taken, it sparked a rush to find you. Each of the Groves is sending teams of wardens to come and try to claim some of you before the others do.”

  Sarah raised her hand again, and Tyrion nodded at her. “If we don’t have any powers, like you do, can we go home?” she asked.

  Tyrion grimaced. None of the teens in front of him showed any sign of special ability yet, but he suspected it was only a matter of time before some of them began to manifest their gift. Whether they would all develop magical ability, or whether none would, he had no way of knowing. “Once they put the collar on you…” he shook his head. “I don’t know. If some of you turn out to be normal—it’s just too hard to say. It’s possible I could convince them to let you go, but I won’t lie, they may just as well decide to keep you for breeding experiments.”

  “Experiments?” That was from Kate.

  He nodded. “I cannot keep them from taking you, so instead I am claiming you for the one who owns me. What she will do with you, is not for me to decide. My only consolation will be that if you all share the same owner you won’t be forced to fight one another.”

  Another boy, Ryan Carter, spoke up then, forgetting to raise his hand, “We
don’t have to fight, do we? I mean, those of us who don’t want to—they can’t make us, right?”

  Tyrion gave him a flat stare, “If you manifest the same gift I have, then you will probably be forced to fight. If you refuse, they will kill you. If you don’t manifest the gift, then you’ll be used as a servant, unless I can somehow convince them to let you go.” He glanced over them, studying their features. It was obvious that they still hadn’t fully accepted the truth, but only time would help with that.

  He lifted his hand to his throat, indicating the spellwoven collar there, “This is what they will put on you. It marks you as their property, it ensures your obedience. Once it is on, you cannot remove it without dying, you cannot run. You will be their slaves, just as surely as I already am.” There was more he could have added, more that he wanted to say, but it would have only been false hope.

  Whatever I plan, the reality is that I will probably fail. It’s best they accept the truth sooner rather than later. Hope will only get them killed.

  ***

  Tyrion drove the wagon up the small road from Colne, heading back toward the Tolburn house. They passed it after an hour, but he didn’t stop there. The wagon was slow and, with so many walking they were making poor time.

  The provisions filled most of the bed of the wagon, but there was still enough room for two or three of the teens to ride in the back. Rather than decide on favorites, though, he had forced them all to walk—including Kate. She had wanted to ride on the front seat beside him.

  She was hurrying now, speeding up so that she could come abreast of him. Looking up at him, she spoke, “We could have stopped at my house.”

  He didn’t bother to answer, keeping his eyes on the road ahead.

  “I could have seen my son again,” she added.

  Tyrion looked down disdainfully, “You can go back now. I don’t need you.”

  She looked back, uncertain. “What about them?”

  “They aren’t your concern,” he told her. “Their future is going to be a hard one. The last thing they need is you there, reminding them of what they have lost.”

  “Are you sure you’re talking about them, or about yourself?” she challenged.