Free Tahn by L. A. Kelly Page A

the air for a moment, and she felt a knot in the pit of her stomach. Taken with her? The thought stirred a churning discomfort in her, but she brushed it aside quickly to grab onto something else Vari had said. “The Dorn?” she asked. “Is that what you call him?”
    “Sometimes.”
    “What does it mean?”
    “Don’t know. It’s his name. Tahn Dorn.”
    “You said you would fear him. Would he hurt you? Does he?”
    Vari laughed. “I suppose he’d do what it took if one of us was trouble, but otherwise I don’t suppose he’ll hurt us none. You never know for sure, I guess. But I don’t expect it.”
    Little Duncan crept up beside her and sat down. “Don’t worry,” he said, his big sad eyes looking up at her. “We’ll mind him good. There won’t be no trouble.”
    Netta felt like crying. A flock of children pledging allegiance to a killer and afraid to do otherwise. “You don’t have to stay with him, do you?” she ventured. “Don’t any of you want to leave?”
    Temas slipped forward toward Duncan, shaking her head.
    Nine-year-old Stuva spoke up. “Where would we go? Back to the streets to freeze next winter or starve if we can’t steal enough? Or maybe get caught and beat to the bone?” The memory was noticeably intense in him. He was almost trembling. But his face was set, not willingly betraying the emotion. “Or we could go back to Valhal,” he continued. “And be locked up and beat on, if they don’t kill us for leaving. We’re not like you, Miss,” he said. “None of us ever saw no fine house. Most of us don’t remember no family to mourn over. All we ever been is hungry and scared, till Samis. Then not so hungry but scared lots worse.”
    She looked around at their dirty and solemn faces. So many of them were nodding in agreement. Were they all orphans? Or abandoned in the streets?
    “What’s moral strength?” Doogan suddenly asked.
    “Yeah,” Tam said. “Something we gotta learn?”
    Netta smiled. “Everyone needs it, yes. But sadly, some never find it.”
    “Is it hard?” Rane asked.
    “No.” Netta looked around at them. “It is simply knowing right from wrong and the proper and godly thing to do whatever your situation.”
    “It sounds hard,” Temas remarked.
    “I’m hungry,” Duncan said.
    “Shut up,” Tam whispered to him urgently. “No complainin’, now.”
    Netta looked at them both and took the smaller boy’s hand. “If you’re hungry, dear one, it’s all right to say so.” She looked up at all of them. “I don’t know what he has told you about that. But with me, if you need something, just say so, and we’ll do the best we can and ask the Lord to make up the difference.”
    “But we only got one loaf left, Miss,” Stuva told her. “And he said that was yours. He’ll be back soon enough bringing more for us.”
    Netta shook her head. “Not for quite a while, I’m afraid.” So that’s where he went in such a hurry. Without even allowing himself rest. “Let’s share what we have in the meantime, shall we?” she suggested. “Fetch the bread for me.”
    She reached in her own bag and pulled out the two remaining apples and the knife Tahn had left with her.
    But all of the children were reluctant to eat, hungry as they were. “Come on now,” she told them. “If it is mine, I can do what I wish with it, can’t I?”
    Rane smiled at her, and it was good to see that from one of them. “I guess so,” he said.
    She cut the apples and bread till there were eight pieces of each. It was so little for so many, but she didn’t want to be troubled about it in front of them. Let them learn that God shall provide. “Is it all right with you if I bless the food?” she asked.
    “You mean pray?” Rane said with wonder.
    “Of course she means pray,” Vari said impatiently. He turned his eyes toward Netta. “Do what you want.”
    She said her brief thanks and passed around the meager meal.
    “None for you?” Temas asked.
    “No. No, I