Dark Thane

Then, with a sharp intake of breath, Tarn shoved past Tor's nanny and entered anyway. Crystal angrily whispered after him, "Don't you wake him, Tarn Bellowgranite!" swiftly echoed by Aunt Needlebone, who was busy collecting her bruised dignity.

Tarn ran his hands along the wall behind Tor's crib until he felt what his eyes had seen-a small dark crack. He followed it to the floor, where it widened to a finger's width beneath the crib. "What's the matter?" Crystal whispered from the doorway. Like the Hylar and Daewar, their closest cousins, the hill dwarves did not have the gift of darkvision and could not see the danger. Tarn appeared suddenly before them, the sleeping baby in his arms.

"Now wait just a damned minute," Aunt Needlebone protested.

"Where are you going?" Crystal asked.

"I'm taking Tor to our bed," Tarn said, elbowing his way past them. "There's a crack in the wall and floor."

Alarmed, Aunt Needlebone stepped across the hall and snatched a candle from its wall sconce. She entered the nursery with Crystal at her heels. Together, they examined the crack. It seemed harmless enough, a weakness of the masonry, nothing that couldn't be repaired with a slap of mortar. Aunt Needlebone shrugged. "He's a mountain dwarf. Maybe those weird eyes of his saw something we cannot."

Crystal sat back on her heels and ran a hand wearily though her hair, pushing a loose strand out of her face. "Auntie," she said in a soft voice. "I don't know what's come over him of late. Ever since that accident during the Festival of Lights, when Mog was killed, he hasn't been the same. He's afraid of shadows, and all he seems to want to do is be with Tor."

"He's a new father, my dear," Auntie said in soothing tones, patting her on the shoulder.

"No, it's more than that. I can't put my finger on it. I don't know what to think anymore," Crystal sighed.

"You listen to old Galena, now, like you used to do," Auntie Needlebone said. "You know Tarn, but there is something about him that you have to realize. You know it in your heart, but you never really considered it. He's lost everything he's ever loved-his mother and his father, his first betrothed, his good friend Thane Bloodeye, all his fine young army that you and he trained, and most recently, his right arm, Mog Bonecutter. Why, those two were inseparable even before we came to the mountain."

"I know all that," Crystal said sullenly.

"So what's he looking at now? He's got you, Tor, and this place. Every day, that insufferable one-eyed prig steals just a little more of this city from him, turns the hearts of a few more of his subjects away from him. The dwarves he sacrificed everything to save now look at him with suspicion."

"Not all of them. Not even half of them. It's just that the few who hate him seem to be the only ones talking," Crystal said.

"And then there's the two of you. He knows you can take care of yourself, lass. You are better than he is with the spear and staff, if truth be told, and you can command in battle nearly as well as he. But how did that Belicia Slateshoulders die? Restoring Hybardin, that's how. They weren't married, yet she was actively involved in rebuilding the kingdom. Are you?"

"I do my part," Crystal said defensively.

"Were you with him at Qualinost?" Auntie snapped back. "She would have been. He keeps you here, inside the Fortress where it is safe."

"I train his guards," Crystal protested. "I fulfill a vital role."

"There's no one else in all of Norbardin who can train his guards, then?" Aunt Needlebone asked. When Crystal made no response, she continued, "You see what I mean. He wants to keep you safe. And now he has Tor to look after and worry over, too. Never has a father loved a child so dearly. I've never seen the like in all my years. Tor is so very young, and dwarf babies die every day of one malady or another. As king, he knows that better than any of us. He grieves along with the mothers and fathers."

Auntie stood and dusted the knees of her tattered woolen nightgown. "It's living shut up in this mountain!" she finished, swearing. "The clean air can't get in here to flush the place out. Pestilence breeds in the dark, and it is so very dark here sometimes. This place could use a good dose of sunshine. A bolt of lightning wouldn't do it any harm, neither."

"I'd better go see what Tarn is doing," Crystal said as she started for the door.

"You mind what I told you, girlie," Auntie called after her. "He's suffering inside, but he can't let it out or he won't be a leader of his people anymore, he thinks. But don't you coddle him. You'll ruin him for sure if you coddle him. He needs a swift kick more than a soft word."