The Last Warrior (11 page)

“We left on our own.” Wiping her hands, she walked closer, standing above him, her skin fragranced with the sweet, fresh scent he'd come to associate with her. He could detect it even with the heavy spice of the cooking in the air, much the way her appearance had stood out on that crowded street the day of his homecoming. “General Arakelian wasn't yet king of Tassagonia when he first called science a crime, blaming us for the bad end to the war. We may have made the glove, yes, but ours wasn't the fist that was in it when it threw the punch.”

Tao blinked at the play of words. He'd never thought of it that way.

“Arakelian and his warriors needed someone to blame after they'd destroyed everything they had in their arsenal, everything they threw at the Gorr. The Gorr weren't any better off, but he couldn't see it, or he refused to. No different from now, with King Xim blaming us—Kurel Town—for his woes. So the Kurel
left, a great exodus to save civilization. We were the teachers and researchers, the scientists, physicians and writers, the drivers and mechanics of the arks. We took the knowledge from our birth-world beyond the stars with us for safekeeping. If not for our daring, the legacy of Uhrth would have been lost. Both our people's legacies, Tao, and the Riders', too.”

He took a moment to absorb the vast amount of information she'd divulged. “How can you possibly know all this?”

“It is written,” she said.

Written,
he thought. In books he could not decipher.

“Where are these books and what do they say?” How did he know this so-called Log of Uhrth wasn't a fable, meant to teach the Kurel the virtues of being passive? Even if it was a description of actual events that happened so long ago, without being able to see it, he could not tell for himself.

“Only the elders know,” she said mysteriously. “But they exist. I've seen the Log,” she trembled, “when I was a little girl. At my Reckoning.”

“What Reckoning?”

“It's when we learn where we came from. All of us. When we're told the story I'm telling you now.”

“Story. See? Not real. A fairy tale.”

She shook her head. “No. I saw it—the Log. I saw
what it was. It's the one copy left of the original in the Barrier Peaks.”

“A log… A book?”

“And more.” She turned her back on him to resume her work in the kitchen.

He exhaled. There would be no more Kurel secrets revealed.

According to Elsabeth, the Kurel had left the Old Colony on their own accord rather than dig in and defend their beliefs, their science. Why? Because they thought they'd lose? What happened to taking a risk for an uncertain reward? That leap of faith was the spice of life for him. Or did their voluntary exodus demonstrate exactly that—a leap of faith? A grand risk. If preserving Uhrth's legacy had indeed rested on their shoulders, then they'd managed something extraordinary. They'd given up their personal safety, their home, for the greater good. Altruism was one of the basic values of the Uhr ideology.

He'd long thought the Kurel incapable of such grand deeds, and had pitied them for it. They were wizards who practiced the dark arts and thus belonged behind the walls of this ghetto. But what if there were more to their pacifism than cowardice or convenient morality? What if as the guardians of knowledge they held the last links to Uhrth in their safekeeping? Whether or not the rest of humanity agreed with it, they'd put that responsibility above all else.

And thought themselves superior for it. Uhrth's favored children.

Perhaps deservedly so.

He gathered his folded arms close.

“Are you going to share the reason behind that frown?” Elsabeth asked.

He managed a smile at her probing, though a small one. “I can't help think of Tassagonia's shunning of the technology you claim you saved. A knee-jerk reaction based on a war gone bad? A weak leader looking for a scapegoat? If so, we followed such teachings blindly for all the centuries since, never questioning.” He thought of the plague, all the deaths. Could they have been preventable? “Did my parents die for nothing?”

Are we Tassagons really as ignorant as the Kurel think?

“We have to hope they didn't, any more than mine didn't die for no reason,” she said quietly. “We have to hope we can conquer the ignorance that led to their deaths.”

Starting with those who perpetuated it.

Xim.

Tao dragged his hands over his hair and exhaled with weariness. “I returned home believing I led the last warriors, that ours was the last march of the last war. I believed, truly, that I'd won peace. But there can be no peace unless a king understands the consequences of war. Xim is too rash. Too selfish.
Shortsighted. I was too long out on campaign to realize the extent of his failings as a ruler.”

She tipped her head down, her expression as soft and kind as he'd ever seen it. He had the oddest thought of cupping that sweet face in his hands to kiss her. “Do you know what Markam told me about you?” she asked, quieter. “He said your personal sense of honor is so great you sometimes neglect to believe the lack of it in others.”

“An oversight all the same,” he said gruffly. He couldn't afford any more mistakes like that. “But am I Xim's replacement? No. No more campaigning for me to be king. There's another way, and we will find it.”

We.
The word might be misconstrued as evidence he was throwing support to the rebels. But these humans were playing a very dangerous game. Aligning himself with them was premature.

“Oh, dear.” She threw a worried glance outside at the coming dawn. At least she shared the same concerns of what might happen in the palace as soon as the empty dungeon was discovered. “I have to get ready.”

She quickly went into the one adjoining room. He listened to the sounds of a woman dressing for the day, familiar from his youth, unfamiliar from his years at war. In minutes, she returned with her hair pinned up, wearing a blue skirt much like the one she'd worn
on the day he'd first seen her—one, no, two days ago. By Uhrth, had he spotted her during his homecoming parade only the day before
yesterday?
She knew more about him now than any other woman, including his sister.

She spoke quickly, hurrying about as she tidied up, putting the entire room back in order in a dizzyingly short amount of time, finally slowing down enough to pick up her messenger bag. “No one will much be in the mood for learning, and I'm in no mind to teach, but my absence will be more noticeable than my presence.”

He caught her wrist in his hand. “If the truth of my situation emerges while you're there, you won't be allowed to leave. You can be sure two escapes in a row through the spillway won't happen.”

She looked away from him. “At least I would be confined with Queen Aza and the children.”

Tao didn't like that option, either. He hated that Aza was in danger, but if Elsabeth were there, too, then damn it to hell, she'd also be in danger. The tutor was courageous but she was no trained warrior; she could not protect his sister and the children. She would only share in whatever fate befell them.

Of course, harboring him in her tiny home put her in danger. She risked banishment, or worse, simply for helping him. The idea rubbed like a pebble in a boot. He, known as humanity's greatest warrior, was
endangering a woman.
Not for a minute longer than necessary,
he vowed to himself.

Cuh-choo-coo. Cuh-choo.
The sound of pigeons suddenly swelled in volume. Then a commotion of bird wings came from the roof. “Prometheus is here,” Elsabeth announced.

She hurried away from the front door. Tao tensed and looked for anything in his reach that could be used as a weapon. The crutches could make decent clubs. “Who is Prometheus?”

“A messenger,” she said. “With news from the palace.”

E
LSABETH TOOK HOLD OF
one of the rungs on the ladder up to the aviary. Her hands shook. A message, just as it was getting light. She'd have to see it before she left, which was no doubt Markam's intent.

Something has happened at the palace.

Tao stumbled out of bed, grabbing a crutch on his way, and hobbled after her, bare-chested, tugging on the waistband of a pair of baggy black pajama pants.

She gave her silent thanks to Chun for his consideration in not leaving her with an entirely naked man. “Tao. Get back in bed.”

“I will hear the news.”

“There won't be anything to hear. Prometheus is a pigeon. He will have carried a message back. I have to go up and get it.”

He almost dropped the crutch. Swearing, he tucked it more firmly under his arm, trying to pretend his freshly stitched wounds didn't hurt as she knew they must. Yet he was eyeing where the ladder ended
above his head as if he were actually considering the climb.

“You're not coming. Back under the blankets.”

“It's better for healing that I stretch my legs. I'll wait here.” He leaned jauntily on the crutch.

He might think she didn't notice the tightening of his abdominal muscles to brace against the discomfort of his wounds, but she did, and frowned at him. “Your legs will swell.”

“You'll work your Kurel magic and fix them.”

“Medicine can't fix everything. That's why it's not really magic, or sorcery, like you Tassagons think.”

“I was joking, Elsabeth—”

“It can't cure every sickness. It can't overcome any injury. It won't bring people back to life, no matter how innocent they are of any intrigue.” She stopped herself, biting her lip.

“I know,” he said, gentler. “I'm worried about her, too.”

They exchanged a look of concern for Aza.

He hunched over the crutch. “I'll wait in bed.”

“I won't open the message until I come down.”

A staccato knock at the door. “That's Chun,” she said. “Shall I give you a few seconds to hobble back to bed before I let him in?”

“The man saved my legs. I owe him the appearance of obeying him, at least.”

“And me. I went through a lot of trouble to get you back here.”

Tao dipped his head. “And you, yes.” Stiffly, the wounded general, in all his godlike, half-naked magnificence, returned to bed.

She let Chun in. The physician's energetic steps and purposeful expression gave no hint to the night he'd spent treating Tao after they'd fled from the palace. His brows lifted quizzically at the sight of the general sitting up on the edge of the bed.

By the time Elsabeth returned with the tube carried home by Prometheus, Chun had examined Tao and told him what the soldier already knew from far too much experience with wounds: his legs were healing. “I'd rather you stayed off your feet today,” he advised before he left them to start his routine day.

Elsabeth could tell by the exasperated look on Tao's face that he had little intention of complying. “He saved your legs, remember?” she said, sitting down on the footstool.

“What about when the elders come?”

“You'll greet them from this bed. You're hurt.”

“I will not lounge abed to meet these elders.”

He was tossing out commands like a general again. “A chair, then,” she conceded, but in the same no-retreat tone. “As long as you're off your feet.”

“We'll discuss the matter later.” He flicked a finger
at the small brown tube she held in her fingers. “What does it say?”

“It probably won't say anything at all. To be cautious, we send what we call flags to each other, colored squares of cloth with nothing written on them.”

“Markam can't write, anyway, or read.”

“Actually, he can and does.”

“Markam?” Tao seemed stunned.

“Yes. Aza, too.”

“My sister reads books?”

“Simple texts. She's still learning.”

Tao's brows drew together and his frown had returned. It was as if he were ashamed. “Open the message,” he said curtly.

What troubled him so much about knowing how to read? It was nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, for any Tassagon, especially a Tassagon soldier like Tao, to be literate was considered a rare and wonderful thing, in her people's view.

“I sent him a green flag last night to let him know you were safe.” She upended the tube and spilled the contents into her palm. Crimson filled her palm like blood.

Her terrified thoughts spun like leaves caught in a cyclone. Clearly Xim knew about the escape already, but had he guessed the Kurel role in it? Would she be arrested? Would soldiers be unleashed on the ghetto
once more? To fire their arrows inside the gates at innocents?

“Red.” Tao narrowed his eyes at her.

She bit her lower lip. “Red means danger. He must be telling me to stay away from the palace.”

“Then you will, until we know more. You'll remain with me.”

Without hesitation, and with the kind of confidence born in a man, Tao had assumed protection of her, and it hit her what an advantage it could be having a warrior here to defend her. And the ghetto.

More pounding on the door, no code this time.

“I don't know who that is.” Elsabeth stepped back as Tao jumped up. This time, he didn't hide the pain it caused him to put his weight on his injuries. “You're going to rip open the wounds if you keep getting up. You're not in charge here. I am. Stay in bed.” She reached up and pushed on his shoulders, a sizzling second of contact with smooth skin and hard muscle. Down he went down to the mattress, almost taking her with him. A part of her wished he was badly behaved enough to do it.

She straightened, stepping backward as she held up a warning finger. “Stay.”

His brow went up, his eyes dangerous, his slight smile even more so. “Like a good dog.”

“No. Like a good general.”

More knocking. Who could it be at this uncivilized
hour?
Please, not the elders.
There was one good thing about not going to the palace—it gave her more time to get Tao ready for their scrutiny, and she'd need every minute of it.

She smoothed her hair and skirt with nervous hands before opening the door. Navi stormed inside. “I was on my way to work when they told me,” he said. “The king closed the palace to Kurel, even palace workers. None of us can report for our jobs today.” The accountant marched past her and around the screen to speak to Tao. “Out in the capital it's crazy. A massive search is under way for you, house to house.”

“Furs.”
Tao spat the name of his enemy like a curse as he dragged a hand over his head. “Has any attempt been made to come inside the ghetto?”

Navi shook his head. “So far, no.”

“We'll hide you in the crawl space if we need to, Tao,” Elsabeth assured him. “You'll be safe.”

“It's not me I'm worried about! It's all of you. My presence here brings risk.”

“I told you, I'm not afraid.”

Navi puffed out his chest. “Nor am I.”

“What of everyone else? The other Kurel. Those who don't raid dungeons in the middle of the night, or pull warriors out of moats seething with tassagators? If guards come into the ghetto and start killing, I'll have a hard time taking cover like a coward.”

Her heart flipped at the thought of him giving up
and turning himself in, returning to an almost-certain death. “You'll have to. Everything hinges on you staying alive.”

“Everything…” Tao crossed his bare, muscular arms over his chest to ponder them, no less the intimidating war hero for being confined to his sickbed. “Like Xim's demotion?”

“Humanity's future,” she insisted.

They exchanged stubborn, challenging glares.

Clearly skeptical of his individual value in the rebellion, Tao shifted his focus to Navi. “How long will the palace be off-limits? Did they say?”

Navi shook his head. “None of us wanted to ask the guards and provoke them.”

Elsabeth threw the empty messenger bag off her shoulder. “This is the way we've lived ever since King Orion died. Like sheep in a pen. We can do no more but wait for something bad to happen to us.”

“You didn't wait,” Tao pointed out. “You took action.”

She stopped, a fist on her hip. “Yes, I did. I'm going to keep doing so. This won't stop us. Those who work in town can pass us information on what's going on inside the palace.”

“I tally the books for a baker and blacksmith,” Navi volunteered. “I'll see what I can find out.”

“Wait for the turmoil to die down,” Tao cautioned. “To do otherwise is to court danger. Markam will keep
a tight rein on his men, but Beck's Home Guard is a young and inexperienced force. No telling what they might do.”

She knew this better than anyone. Tao was right. They had to wait for the storm to pass. “We'll use the time to our advantage. To rest—” she shot Tao a pointed look “—and to prepare for dinner with the elders.”

“That's right—it's tonight.” Navi gave Tao a sympathetic shake of the head. “That's not good news—for you.” Then to Elsabeth, he muttered, “Or you.”

“Navi,”
she whispered through gritted teeth. “Hush.”

“I just meant the general could use all the practice he can get.”

“Navi,”
she whispered again. “Hush!”

“No. Navi's right.” Tao's mouth curled with the kind of smile that broadcast he wasn't at all intimidated by the prospect. “Since we have nowhere to go today, we're going to use the time to teach this Tassagon dog a few new tricks.”