intended, his own tone cruel and
snappish.
“How old were you when your father cheated Trevor Saur out of his lands?"
“It doesn't matter how old he was."
Paddy spun around and his face hardened with anger. “Weir promised me he'd let me handle this,
Genevieve,” he warned.
For a moment she didn't speak. Even from where he stood, Paddy could feel the anger directed Sorn's
way, feel the implied threat in the way Genny was standing, her hand on the hilt of the dagger at her thigh.
“You owe us, Sorn,” she said, her words tightly clipped, lethal as she glared at Syn-Jern Sorn. “You can
pay with your life!"
“Genny!” Patrick scolded, taking a step toward the young woman, intent on getting her out of the cabin.
She backed away from Paddy's advance, yanked the door open behind her, and then swung around the
heavy portal, banging it shut behind her.
Paddy looked quickly to the bunk. “I'm sorry,” he began, but he could see a faint smile on Sorn's face.
He was puzzled by it until the thick, emotionless words came.
“I have that effect on women."
“Genny's young. She sees things in black and white. Galrath was hard on her."
“The convent?” Syn-Jern asked with shock.
“Aye. She was there from the time she was three until just a few years ago. She's twenty-five, now."
“And Saur?"
“Fealst,” Paddy answered. “He had it real good compared to his sister."
Syn-Jern sighed heavily. “Tell him I'm sorry about his lands. Tell him if it's any consolation, they were
taken away from me, too."
“You couldn't have been more than eleven when Weir's lands were taken. How old were you when you
were sent to the Labyrinth?” He didn't wait for a reply. His agile mind remembered Stevens saying the
young man had been in the Maze ten years. He looked around. “Twenty-one, twenty-two."
“Twenty-one.” There was softness, hopelessness in the voice.
“You're thirty-one now?” He saw Syn-Jern nod. “So you must have been sent to the colony right after
your father died on board the Lady Tasha."
“Aye,” came the soft reply.
“What happened to the lands? Who took control of them when Giles Sorn died?"
The first real emotion showed on the sad face. “Me."
“Did you know they had been stolen from Trevor Saur?"
“I knew they had been his lands."
“How did you think your father had come by them?” He had to find out and he hoped against hope Sorn
would give him something to work with, something to take to Weir that would prevent a tragic ending to
all this.
Sorn took a long breath, seemed to gather his thoughts. “I was told he was awarded the land for
payment of back taxes."
“Who has control of them, now?"
At first Paddy didn't think Sorn was going to answer. He was silent for so long, he began to wonder if
the man was trying to think of some plausible lie; if he was fabricating some excuse that would clear him
of any of his father's wrong doing. But the words he spoke at last, the look on his features, gave evidence
that his words were true, if painful.
“As far as I know, the Tribunal has all the lands.” There was bitterness in the words, hatred in the tone.
“They took everything when I was sent to Tyber's Isle. I have nothing to give him, Master Kasella.
There's nothing left.” He lowered his eyes.
“But..."
“But, what?” came a sharp question from the doorway. Weir stood there, his mouth tight.
“If you want my life, I will gladly let you take it. I have no further use for it."
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Chapter Seven
Weir Saur had grown up in an atmosphere of love in the orphanage at Fealst. The Charitable Sisters of
Compassion who ran the home for abandoned, orphaned and abused children, had done a marvelous
job of raising the rambunctious boy. They had afforded him every opportunity to grow in wisdom,
tolerance, truthfulness, honor, and compassion; and they had taught him the basic rule of humanity: treat
others as you would like to be treated.
Maurizio de Giovanni, Antony Shugaar