The blankness continued. "Ah yes, Roge. I was looking for him. He left. I had to find him and talk about Karin. Did you have children, Atavist? Be careful if you do. Be very careful."
"My name is Tchardo, Principal." He bit down hard on his next response, but he was rapidly running out of things to say. "Roge is gone. He was killed in an accident."
"Yes, yes," said Men Darnak, and glanced back over at the man who was suddenly fussing with the tea preparation. He turned back to Sandon and gave him a long hard look. He lifted one hand. Sandon noted a slight tremor in it. "I do know you. I've seen you before. You remind me of?there was someone who worked for me once, a close and trusted friend, I think?" He continued peering at his face, as if trying to worry the memory from the depths of his consciousness.
Sandon got slowly to his feet.
"Principal, I?" he said.
"Enough. I can't wait for this tea. You're too slow, man. There's too much to do." He shook his head.
Just then, a sudden furious gust shook the entire lodge. Sandon drew air through his teeth and looked over at Kovaar, who was slowly shaking his head. He caught Sandon's scrutiny, held his look for a moment, and then tilted his head in Men Darnak's direction.
The Principal was on his feet. Outside, the wind had finally been joined by rain. Large drops were beginning to spatter against the windows and the roof. Sandon glanced outside, but all that was there was blackness. A gust threw a sheet of rain against the side of the lodge, and it drummed against the side wall and roof like hundreds of sharply pointed fingers. A sudden flash lit up the outside, followed a few moments later by a deep rumble, clearly audible over the sound of the wind and rain. He turned back to Men Darnak. The old man was standing there staring into space. His mouth was working. Sandon frowned, leaning slightly forward, trying to make out what he was saying.
It was one word, over and over. "Roge," he was mouthing. "Roge."
Without any warning, Leannis Men Darnak dashed for the door. He flung it wide, and stood there, his arms outstretched as a blast of wind and rain whipped against and past him. Sandon, Kovaar and the others shied away from the sudden intrusion of the elements. Then just as quickly, Men Darnak was gone.
"Principal!" called Sandon, but it was too late.
"Damn you, Kovaar," said Sandon. "Go after him!"
Caught suddenly off guard by Sandon's outburst, rather than questioning, the priest ducked his head and raced out the door, forcing it shut behind him. It shouldn't take him long to find the old man and drag him back.
The brief respite against the weather was giving Sandon time to think. A suspicion had been growing, and now, he thought, might just be the time to put it to the test. He believed he could trust the young man, Fran. There was nothing wily about the boy at all. It was about time that Sandon came back. The Atavist, Tchardo, had just about served his purpose.
"Fran," he said. "Can I talk to you?"
The young man broke off from his worried observation of the door. He was looking as if any moment, Kovaar and the Principal might burst back in and he'd have to deal with some fresh onslaught. Come to think of it, he was looking decidedly shaken. He nodded. Sandon looked around. There were several bedrooms leading off from the wide common room, and he inclined his head in the direction of one of these. Fran gave a brief frown, rubbed his hands on the back of his trousers and then headed for the room that Sandon had indicated. Sandon looked at the other two, but they were now sipping on mugs of tea -- how Sandon would have loved one -- and peering out the thick windows. He grabbed a lantern, followed Fran into the room, and closed the door.
There was nothing fancy in the room, a bed, some shelves, a cupboard, a lantern on a low table, but it would suit his purposes. What he needed now was privacy. He placed his own lantern down, looked Fran full in the face, and pulled back his hood.
"Fran, I'm going to ask you something, and then based on what you tell me, I might have to ask you to do something for me."
The boy nodded, his broad features guileless.
"Does the name Sandon Yl Aris mean anything to you?"
Fran thought for a few moments. "No, I don't think so."
"Good. But that's not important for the moment. You've seen Principal Men Darnak. You must feel the same way I do. There's something not right there. He needs help. Do you agree?"
