The Last Warrior (13 page)

Elsabeth folded her hands on the table. “I would gladly die to keep General Tao alive if I knew it would assure Xim's downfall and peace for our people,” she said softly.

Several elders audibly gasped, but Farouk acted unruffled as he addressed Tao. “You have won the loyalty of our Elsabeth, I see.”

Elsabeth's quiet pledge had struck Tao deep. That she would trade her life for his…personally, he did not think he could bear it. But as a general, he recognized her words as being those of a warrior. “Miss Elsabeth's loyalty is a worthy prize if I have indeed won it. I hope to earn the trust of all the people of Kurel Town. Know this—our peoples must not battle each other. As we speak, the Gorr are scattered, demoralized, running scared, but if we go at each other's throats, they'll sense the turmoil as swiftly as they do the scent of our blood. And then they'll regroup, motivated by the damage that human has done to human, emboldened by the way we've weakened ourselves, and they'll finish us, once and for all.”

A few of the elders recoiled. Others turned colder, repulsed by his frank words. Tao wasn't sorry. Only fools glossed over the realities of war then stumbled right back into it for their folly.

“Elsabeth tells me that your holy book, the Log of
Uhrth, warns of the danger of divided human tribes. With your asylum or without it, I'll do everything in my power to keep the peace.” His voice grew quieter. “So I can get back to what I came home to do—retire, work the land and, yes, grow old. I'm weary of war, Elder Farouk. Let this be its end.”

Farouk set one clawed hand on the table. “You present yourself as a man of peace, but you led countless men into battle to achieve your victories. What if one of them refused to fight?”

“My men knew what they were there to do—and why.”

“We have heard of stories of soldiers who refused to pick up a weapon.”

Tao frowned. “That was rare.”

“But it happened,” the elder prompted. “What did you do to them?”

“I had them flogged for dereliction of duty or for disobeying orders, depending on the circumstances.”

“And if that didn't work?”

“That, too, was rare. Very rare.”

“General…”

“They were put to death by a firing squad.”

The elders breathed a collective gasp of dismay. Tao gritted his teeth at their shock. Elsabeth had warned him. To the Kurel, any spilled blood was horrific, even that of an enemy. This line of questioning was leading them away from the important issue. The only issue.
How to prevent Xim's paranoia from pitting human against human. Without vanity, Tao knew he was essential to that cause, and so it was also essential that he make these elders understand.

“War is an ugly thing,” he said evenly, “but not the ugliest of things. Worse is the person who has nothing for which they're willing to fight. Who finds nothing more important than their own personal safety. Cowardice or desertion can't be rewarded. If a soldier runs when he's being counted on to protect his comrades, he's as dangerous as the Furs themselves. The Gorr were a known, deadly threat, but a coward amongst us? That was an unseen, unpredictable threat. Far worse to find an enemy where you expected an ally.”

“Like General Tao discovered when he returned home,” Elsabeth said. “An enemy in his king. Elders, I once again humbly request sanctuary for the general. He has put himself at our mercy. His presence here is no trick. I stake my reputation on it, my standing in this community. I've already staked my life.”

Leaving her powerful statement to linger in the silence, she sat back in her chair. Only her bloodless knuckles gave any hint to her inner strain. The elders turned away to confer, grumbling amongst themselves.

Tao waited. His fate was up to these Kurel. And in the hands of Uhrth, if he were to look at the far bigger picture. Still, men made their own destinies. If he were
to be turned out, he'd stay alive and survive to save his sister and his kingdom. And if Elsabeth, Chun and Navi were turned out with him?

At his side, his three rescuers waited in tense silence. If they were banished for his sake, he'd honor their sacrifice by not forsaking them as they continued the fight to restore sanity to the throne.

Finally, Farouk turned back to their group. “First, we elders have made a decision regarding the palace ban for Kurel workers. We will not be split apart at the whim of the Tassagon king. We will not be separated into classes, those who are under suspicion and those who are not. All Kurel will remain in the ghetto until the ban is lifted. A messenger will be sent to the palace in the morning to deliver the news.”

From Elsabeth to Chun, there were collective gasps of surprise. Tao could imagine the effect the elders' decision would have on Tassagonia's citizens, not having the Kurel around to do the myriad chores they couldn't or wouldn't do. Passive resistance—the Kurel had just reaffirmed their expertise at the practice.

Would it give Xim new appreciation for these people or convince him of his apparent desire to subjugate them?

“As for General Tao…”

Tao lifted his gaze, slowly, to meet Farouk's. When the elder issued his verdict, it would be done looking into his fellow human's eyes.

“He will be granted conditional asylum in Kurel Town.”

A powerful release of tension in his body made him realize how much he'd been bracing for bad news. Elsabeth gave his thigh a quick squeeze under the table.

His heart leaped at sharing the victory with her, until he remembered that the only reason she was happy was because she was one step closer to avenging her parents' deaths. Kindness had nothing to do with it. It was as much a self-serving gesture as when she'd saved his life. She needed to use him against Xim.

“If the general agrees to adhere to our ways, to abide by our laws and refrain from influencing any Kurel to commit acts of violence,” the wheelchair-bound elder added.

Tao set his jaw. Elsabeth was their greater worry when it came to that.

Farouk held his gaze. “Any violations will result in immediate banishment.”

“I will comply, Elder.”

“Thank you, Elder Farouk,” Elsabeth gushed. “Thanks all of you.”

The elders prepared to leave. “Take care around him,” the old woman with the white streak warned Elsabeth.

Gwendolyn nodded. “Your own mother is not here to warn you, so I will. Dependent as he is on our
generosity, he is what he is. An Uhr. You have heard the tales.”

Tales? Tao caught Elsabeth blushing so fully that her ears turned pink. He was dying to know what these tales included.

“I can control him, Auntie,” Elsabeth said, pointedly ignoring Tao's near-silent snort.

White Streak bounced a disapproving glance off Tao. “But, can you control yourself? Beware your mixed blood, Elsabeth. It may lead you down unwanted paths.”

“Marina,” Gwendolyn exclaimed. “Are you insinuating my Elsabeth's sensibilities are in doubt because she's a halfie? Any Kurel girl would need to take care. Any human girl.”

Elsabeth was of mixed blood? This paragon of Kurel virtue? He knew even less about her than he'd thought.

Tao folded his arms over his chest as the women discussed him and his apparent threat to women—or his apparent temptation to women; he wasn't sure which—as if he weren't there.

“It will be more difficult for her, yes.”

He could only hope.

“Pash,” Gwendolyn spat. “She'll be stronger for that Tassagon blood. You'll see.”

“Elders, please.” Elsabeth sounded mortified, insulted. Angry. “I won't be led down any path I don't
choose.” The tone of her voice left no doubt of that in Tao's mind. He wondered what kind of path, exactly, she feared to tread with him.

“Which is precisely what I worry about,” Marina muttered.

Farouk's cane tapped on the planked floor.

“Good night, all. Elsabeth, the sumsala was every bit as good as your grandmother's.”

Tao's stomach rumbled. The mention of food reminded him how empty his stomach was.

Goodbyes were said, leaving him alone with Elsabeth.

“We did it, Tao.” Her eyes shone. “You have sanctuary here.”

Conditional sanctuary. If he didn't comply with the terms, he was out. How hard could that be, pretending to be a Kurel? “A victory,” he agreed, longing for a little chilled ale with which to toast their success.

“Markam will be so relieved. Now we can plan. We need to reestablish contact with Markam, and keep that channel of communication with the palace open. Damn this confinement. How will I see Aza now?”

Her focus on what steps they'd take next drove home the point that her excitement at saving him had nothing to do with him as a man, and everything to do with her plans to oust Xim. She'd told him as much in the pipes. He had to give her points for sticking to that damned Kurel frankness.

Elsabeth rose from the table in a whirlwind, cleaning up the disarray left in the wake of the meal. He grabbed a crutch and pushed to his feet. “Surely there is something I can do to help,” he said. “I've had to clean up around the cook fire while out on patrol.” As if that qualified him somehow to assist Elsabeth with her kitchen chores.

“Not until you're healed.”

He grumbled at that. “I'm not a cripple.”

“But you will be if you don't get off those legs.” She rolled her sleeves up and sank her arms into soapy water, elbow deep, and gave him a warning glare when he sank back onto the chair at the table. “Not there. In bed.”

His stomach rumbled again. He was so hungry he felt hollow. “Elsabeth. I need food.”

She paused, water dripping in soapy rivulets down her slender arms. Her blouse had gotten damp in spots as well, clinging to her curves, parts of the proper white cotton now allowing a near-transparent peek at the flesh underneath. “You're still hungry?”

Unfortunately the kind of hunger he had in mind was the furthest thing from her mind. “I've not stopped being hungry. I need food. I need to eat…a lot more than this.” A lot more than the men in her experience did, obviously.

“There's some leftover sumsala…”

He supposed he could eat it, now that the elders
weren't watching him. It wouldn't matter so much now if he sneezed and wept.

“Wait. You're still acclimating to the spices. I have a better idea.” She went out back with a basket, returning in moments with it filled, unloading the contents on the counter. “This was in the cool box in the clinic. Chun won't mind. Bread, butter, eggs, cheese.” She threw a chunk of the butter in a pan, set it over the fire, and soon it was sizzling. Beaten eggs splashed in next and were covered with thick slices of cheese.

His mouth watered as he inhaled the aroma. Within minutes, she was sliding a large platter of food toward him to eat. He took in the sight of a mountain of scrambled eggs and melted cheese surrounded by thick slices of buttered bread and tried to remember the last time he'd consumed a full, uninterrupted meal.

Too long ago. Years, really. Battlefield fare, usually consumed while discussing war plans, had been followed by the political machinations of a formal palace dinner. He tore off a piece of bread and dredged it through the scrambled eggs, scooping them up and into his mouth. “Heaven,” he mumbled, going back for a second pass.

He looked up to compliment her cooking, but the look on her face made him freeze, his hand halfway to his mouth. A hard gulp, and the mouthful went down like a stone. He reached for the fork. “I wouldn't want to violate the terms of my parole the first night.”
And then he was filling his belly the Kurel way. He'd never tasted food so satisfying. Was it his hunger over so many days, or the fact that Elsabeth had made it personally for him? That she'd understood him, at least in this.

He felt her eyes on him, her curiosity. “What exactly do they say?” he asked, swallowing. “About Uhrs?”

“Excuse me?”

“The elders, the two women, they warned you about Uhr-warriors. What do they say about us?”

“It's not relevant.” She pushed up from the table and returned to the kitchen.

“Indeed it is. If I'm to adhere to your ways, I'd best know what they are.”

She was scrubbing dishes with vigor now. “If you really want to know, it's said that Uhr-warriors have insatiable sexual appetites. Like the animals in the forest.”

He realized he was still shoveling in food like a ravenous beast, and she was watching. Drawing parallels? He paused, dabbing his mouth with a cloth with as much civility as possible. “We're compared to animals…in bed?”

She nodded and stacked another washed plate on the growing pile. “It's all right. They say you can't help it. You were bred for war.”

“I
trained
for war. An honorable profession. To say I was bred—for anything—does make me seem like
a beast.” He frowned, his fists resting on the table. “If their implication is that I'd force myself on you—”

“I
don't think that.”

“Then what are they worried about?”

Her expression closed as she grabbed a cloth to dry off her hands. “Marina brought up my mixed blood to insinuate I have no control over my actions.”

“Rather like a Tassagon.”

His tone was almost playful, but hers wasn't. “Exactly like a Tassagon, yes.”

“Who was the Tassagon, your father or mother?”

Her mouth twisted, making it clear the subject made her uncomfortable. Was she ashamed of this “stain” on her past? “Mother was Tassagon, but she was born here, in Kurel Town, raised as one of us. She considered herself Kurel, and everyone saw her as one. Her mother was a Tassagon, a runaway, and died soon after giving birth to her. We don't know who her family was—or is. No one ever reported her missing.” She muttered, “No one seemed to care.”

“The Kurel couldn't save the woman?” He'd begun to see their methods as infallible.