The Last Warrior (18 page)

“Yes. But my father took it a step further. He became the first to offer aid out here in the orchards, and on a set schedule, so the Tassagons could come to rely
on the care. This is his legacy, and my mother's, too. Chun carries it on now.”

“Beth, your father was an incredibly selfless man. This could have become a lucrative black market, but he gave it all away.”

“He never once charged a Tassagon for seeking out his care.” Her brows drew together, her expression grew colder. “They repaid him by taking his life.”

“Not honorable men like my officers, nor I. Not men like Markam, and all those who came to the orchards and never gave away the secret. Xim and Beck, and the ignorant, cowardly men under their command, are to blame. Surely you see that now.”

For a moment she simply searched his face, silent, thoughtful and with classic Kurel reserve—and he despaired of her ever letting go of her bitterness long enough to differentiate between the good and bad soldiers of the kingdom. Then she reached for him, coming up on her knees, her warm finger tracing the outline of his jaw. “I do see it, Tao. Every time I see you.”

Without waiting for permission, he drew her into his lap, then slanted his mouth to hers and kissed her. Lesson number two.

 

W
ITH DISTASTE
, K
ING
X
IM
studied the pile of charred bones the priest had presented. “You are certain, then.”

“Yes. I swear before all the angels of Uhrth that the cracks read true. These are not the general's bones.”

Xim slammed a hand flat on the table. The bones bounced. Even after they stilled, in the flickering torchlight they seemed to be dancing. Mocking him. It was all he could do not to sweep them off the table and onto the floor. “What does it mean, then? He's alive?”

“It means only that these aren't his bones.”

Roaring in frustration, Xim paced away from the priest, wrapping a cape made of forest-kitt fur around his shoulders. A chill had settled into the old fortress and would not abate until the long cold season was over, many months from now. By then, Aza would have given birth to another child, proof of his continued virility and power. The spring thaw would symbolize a new beginning for his reign, and his plans to send the army into Rider territory would begin.

Spring was too far off. He needed answers now.

“You will say nothing about this, shaman.”
Or, I'll have you killed,
was his next thought. But he didn't dare speak the sinful deed, lest a curse fall upon him. It was bad enough having to deflect the Kurel's wicked spells.

Xim peered out between the columns of the temple at the ghetto far below. It was after dark. All the Kurel were behind their walls, where a soft, eerie glow emanated—and not due to the moonlight. It was the glow
of wizardry. Wickedness. Only the spires of the slowly rotating windmills and a few of the taller buildings peeked above the walls. The memory of his suffering, of being wracked with a nearly fatal fever, haunted him. Frightened him.

Aza had wanted him to accept treatment from the visiting Kurel healer. Chun was his name. But he didn't like the way the man had looked at him, as if Xim were weak, a trembling, sweating object of pity. They'd never looked at his father that way. No one had, not the Kurel, and not Tao. Orion had everyone's respect.
Why don't I?

Xim's upper lip curled. He'd refused to be touched by that Kurel and had called for a Tassagon healer. For all he knew, the Kurel had created a spell to make him sicken and die in the first place.

Now, he thought of Markam's warning to Beck about the consequences of angering the Kurel and shivered. He wanted the sorcerers out of the capital. Resentment burned that they frightened him too much to exile them. But if they were found harboring a fugitive in direct violation of royal decree, he'd have the excuse he needed to rid Tassagonia of the parasites.

“Tassagonia for Tassagons,” Beck always said. Yes, it was how it was supposed to be, what the angels of Uhrth intended when they drove the Kurel and the Riders from the Old Colony. Xim would bring back the intended purity of his people, the only real humans
and true descendants of the angels of Uhrth, and he'd be viewed as a hero for doing so. It would define his reign and secure his place in history.

In that moment, he chose to conquer his fears and doubts. Never had he felt so proud and so strong for making a decision all on his own. “Bring me a messenger!” he bellowed.

One of the guards standing outside the temple door hurried inside. “I am here, Your Highness.”

“Summon Colonel Uhr-Beck to the palace.”

The man snapped his heels together then ran off. Beck was away in the countryside inspecting the army, seeing what was needed to train them to march on the Riders come spring. But Xim needed him here. Now. The colonel always made everything so much easier. Markam's presence soothed him as well, but Beck offered more clarity, focusing on the simple rather than the complex, giving him confidence.

As soon as he had both his colonels here, he'd launch a search for General Uhr-Tao—amongst the Kurel. With any luck at all, he'd find evidence of their betrayal and use it to justify his plans. He'd see that all of those inhuman sorcerers were sent packing back to the Barrier Peaks, where they belonged.

A
SEARCH OF THE GHETTO
was imminent. Crushed in Tao's fist was the red note carried home by not one but two pigeons. A note with a written warning Elsabeth had translated for him: BONES READ. NOT GT's. K-TOWN SEARCH IMMINENT.

“Of course they weren't yours,” Elsabeth said. “It was a lucky guess, nothing more than a priest's hunch. No science, no basis in fact or truth.”

“You dismiss our ways as easily as I once dismissed yours,” he scolded. “Our best priests can be uncannily right.” He grabbed his amulet. “One of our combat shamans blessed this talisman. I believe it saved me, more than once.”

She turned her hand palm up, acceding his position. This was no time to argue religion versus science. Whatever their people's beliefs, the result had led to the first organized hunt for him in Kurel Town since his escape. Tao had no intention of being anywhere within the ghetto walls when the guards arrived. His
presence brought unacceptable risk for the Kurel who lived here.

There was precious little time. “I'll need a rucksack. Some food, water.” Mentally, he listed the other gear he'd bring. It was barely light but growing brighter swiftly.
If this was the Hinterlands and a threat to safety this grave loomed, even my lowest-ranking sergeant would have had his squad packed and gone an hour ago.

Elsabeth pumped water into a bladder, wiped it dry and wrapped in it a cloth, then found a rucksack on an upper shelf to load with supplies. She seemed to have an uncanny instinct for what to pack, choosing boiled-wool blankets, rope, cord and matches without him having to direct her. “You pack like an experienced trekker.”

“I just remember everything I've read. I love survival guides.” Watching him choose his coat off a hook, leaving hers behind, she sobered. “I'm going with you, Tao. Outside the walls.” Before he could form a protest, she argued, “I'm the only Kurel banned on sight from the palace—by order of the king himself. That makes me a convenient target for Beck's men. I'd be easy to arrest, because I've already proven myself a troublemaker.”

“The elders will hide you.”

“Pash. They can hide you, too, if that's your argument. Hiding is a last resort. More, it brings the risk of
being found, which increases the chances of violence. I can't—
I won't
be the cause of that.” Strands of hair fell over her shoulders and she shoved items in the rucksack. “Besides, I promised Aza and Markam I'd keep you safe.”

“Me safe?” His laugh was a quick, disbelieving bark. “What about you?”

“I'll be safer in your company than anywhere else.” She said it with such conviction, it demolished all question of whether she trusted him. “You know where we can hide, and how to live off the land. It's not like the Hinterlands. Shepherds go out in the countryside every day to tend the flocks. We'll only be gone for a day.”

“Two,” he said. “And one night. We'll need at least that.”
We.
By the arks, he hadn't uttered any agreement yet and already he was speaking as if she were coming along. In truth, he wanted her with him. He felt more in control of events outside these walls than inside—and he'd focus more easily with her in his sight, rather than out of reach with him left wondering about her welfare. “That's two days in the wilds, Elsabeth. You've lived a sheltered life. Do you have an understanding of what you're asking to do?”

She stuck a hand on her hip. “My sheltered life ended three years ago, the day I found my parents shot and killed. As for understanding what it is to escape the city, let me just say I've been preparing for this since I was a girl.” She thrust the rucksack at him.

“By reading books,” he scoffed, taking the bag.

“Yes.” That stubborn little chin, the erect spine, those fierce eyes, all told him there would be no dissuading her. But then, her reasons for wanting to accompany him were sound. The more threatened Xim grew, the more unpredictable he became. Markam would be watching, ready to step in, but no one really knew what would happen when they came and searched.

“All right. We'll both go.”

At least she gave him the respect of not cheering her victory. He finished packing, then asked her to inventory the gear. “Cook pot,” he said.

Elsabeth rummaged through the rucksack. “Check.”

“Ball of string.”

“Check.”

“Slingshot.”

She hesitated. “This?” She held up a forked stick tired with leather and string. “Where did you find it?”

“I made it. When you've gone off to do your chores, I've been working on mine. There are pitifully few weapons in K-Town. Navi's proved himself quite helpful in procuring what little there is, but where I can, I fill in the blanks. My arsenal…” He went to his bed, pulled out a box from under it, where he retrieved two fine blades, thrusting one in a sheath on his belt before
wrapping the other in a piece of leather and handing it to her. “Yours.”

“Mine?” Her brows shot up, her regard of the carving knife now doubtful upon hearing it described as a weapon.

“Yes. Once we're under way, you'll wear it at all times.” One place where the Kurel's ridiculous aversion to weaponry didn't belong was out in the wild. He'd make sure of that.

 

T
HE ELDERS ARRIVED AS
they were ready to board a cart driven by Chun and Navi. Tao cursed the delay. It was almost full light. Farouk leaned on his cane with one gnarled first. “You're leaving,” he accused.

With as much patience as Tao could muster, he briefed the elder on his decision and the reasoning behind it. “When we granted you sanctuary, we did so accepting of the risks,” Farouk said, as if offended.

“I know this, and I'm grateful, but I believe my presence during the search may raise that risk to an unacceptable level.” As if to punctuate the statement, the sound of children laughing down the street drifted to them. “The king will punish all of you if I'm found here. It's best I wait out the search outside the walls.”

“Outside,” Gwendolyn repeated, obviously horrified at the concept.

“Your act is one of honor, General. Selfless honor.
We won't forget this,” Farouk said. A compliment from a Kurel. An elder, no less. Imagine that. “We can't hold you here if you choose to go, General. But the girl, Ferdinand's daughter…do you believe you can keep our Elsabeth safe?”

Tao took in the concerned faces of all the Kurel. Having gotten to know them, he saw true emotion behind their wall of reserve. It had always been there. He'd simply needed to look harder. That revelation was no less surprising than their apparent willingness to allow Elsabeth to leave with him. “I do,” he said. “And I will.”

Elsabeth swept her shawl around her shoulders. “Then no more talking about it. They'll be here very soon.”

Gwendolyn wouldn't allow Elsabeth to leave without a hug. Marina stood near, contributing to whatever warnings the old woman was likely issuing. Undoubtedly to “beware the Uhr's desires.” They'd be relieved to know he hadn't yet touched her in an intimate fashion.

But if they knew how difficult that had been, all their worst imaginings would be confirmed.

He cleared his throat. Elsabeth broke free of the women. Her eyes were moist. For the briefest of moments, she met his gaze, and what he saw there was not what he expected—not sadness or fear, but defiance and, incredibly, exhilaration. He should have known
she'd be excited, yet his experience with other females had shown time and time again that they didn't crave risk and adventure to the degree Elsabeth did.

Then, with Kurel calm masking her true emotions, she boarded the cart. Following, Tao made the sign of Uhrth over his heart and hoped he wouldn't rue the day he'd suggested she'd be better off getting out to experience what the world had to offer than burying her nose in paper.

 

A
SHORT WHILE LATER
, they were climbing down from the cart. Tao hoisted the rucksack over his shoulder, took Elsabeth's warm hands in his and helped her down.

“See you in a couple of days,” Navi said, nodding. A look of longing hinted at his desire to come along. But with the boy's propensity to finding trouble—and man-eating carnivores—Tao would have no part of it.

Chun handed Elsabeth a pouch. “Medical kit.” His mouth compressed. “Just in case.” For a typical Kurel, it was a powerful display of emotion.

Soon he and Elsabeth were under way, leaving her friends—and everything else she'd known—behind.

He knew every inch of the fortress walls surrounding Tassagonia. It was required of every Uhr. A short distance away was a leafy hardwood grove, and on the other side of the trees, the impassable northern wall
loomed high. Impassable to those who didn't know the secrets he did.

In this deserted area, the wall was crumbling in spots, in as much need of repair as this kingdom. But then the wall had always served more as a reassurance than as an actual protection against the Gorr invaders. No attack had ever been launched on Tassagonia itself. Tao forced away the thought of Furs inside the capital. He'd spent his career ensuring it would never happen.

Kicking away stones and brush, he uncovered an iron ladder, each rung set between the stones and mortared in place. “A spy deck,” he explained, pointing to a ledge above them open to the outside. “They were put in long ago to increase visibility on certain sections of the walls.”

They climbed the ladder up to the spy deck, ducked through it, and walked out onto the narrow ledge. Elsabeth gasped in wonder at the view, the soaring wall to each side, the Plains falling away below them and onward to the Barrier Peaks. Behind them, the smoke of morning cook fires rose into the fair sky; ahead were free-grazing horses and cattle, growing fat and content on early autumn grass, and on rare occasions, the lone shepherd unafraid of risking the danger of life outside the protection of the city, and then nothing but empty lands for countless miles, an entire world
abandoned in fear after nearly all its inhabitants had been destroyed.

Fear had for too long ruled these lands. It was never as clear to him as it was now. Fear between the human tribes, fear begun long ago in the First Colony and perpetuated down through the ages. Fear that he'd make damn well sure ended with King Xim.

“The view…it's breathtaking,” Elsabeth said, hushed.

“You've seen a fine view like this from the palace hill.”

“But not from here—from outside.” Her eyes shone with gratitude and wonder. He'd like to see a little more caution in those eyes, even a smidgen of fear; nevertheless his chest swelled with her joy.

“You'll be far more outside than this.” A chain ladder was coiled against the wall. “We'll climb down using this.” He unrolled the chains as he dragged the ladder to the edge and lowered it a little at a time, testing its hold. The rust-encrusted links hadn't been disturbed for years. “Wait until I reach the bottom, then follow when I say so.”

They rendezvoused below. Taking her hand, he led her as they raced into a grove of shade trees, Elsabeth holding her simple brown traveling skirt clear of the grass with her other hand. As she caught her breath in the shelter of the trees, Tao grabbed a loop of rope from the rucksack. “Wait here. I'll find us a horse.”

Elsabeth peered through the branches to watch Tao stalk a herd of grazing horses. He moved like a predator, easy, slow, picking his target from the edge of the herd—a beautiful buttermilk buckskin mare with a long, flowing black mane and a full blaze running down the center of her face.

Only a few horses lifted their heads at his approach. A lifelong horseman, Tao was able to move amongst them without causing alarm. She understood their calm; he had the same effect on her. By the time Tao looped a figure-eight rope bridle around the buckskin mare, the horse was as besotted with the general as Elsabeth had been after their first kiss. With some hand waving and hat waving, Tao chased off a few curious followers, then jumped on the horse and rode her back to the trees.

“Now you'll be wanted for stealing a horse,” Elsabeth said, stroking a hand down the horse's silken muzzle.

“Borrowing,” he corrected as he dismounted to stand next to her. “That's no crime. Now, hike up your skirt.”

It pleased Tao that she didn't require more than a moment or two of thought before lifting her skirt to her knees, exposing her white, frill-trimmed petticoat and those long bare legs—what had become in a matter of weeks one of his favorite sights under the suns.

He lifted her up and dropped her onto the back of
the horse. She laughed, half in delight, half in shock. “I've never ridden bareback.”

“Never been outside the walls. Never ridden bareback. What else will you have done for the first time by day's end?”

He noticed that she'd gone silent. She was sitting on the mare, clutching the rope, her gaze alarmed but speculative.
Did she really think I'd meant making love to her?
Great Uhrth. Did the Kurel idea of the savage Uhr have no bounds?

He tried to pretend the mere thought of being with her didn't come with an interested heat in his loins, so he frowned as he hoisted the rucksack on his back. “Be still, girl,” he soothed the mare, smoothing a hand down the side of its creamy neck. “You will like this, as well.” He believed that in every beast was the yearning for a break from day-to-day drudgery, including a workhorse.

He used a fallen log to swing up and behind Elsabeth, taking the rope reins with her snug between his arms. “Let yourself relax,” he murmured in her ear. “I won't let you fall.”

Slowly, the tension went out of her. “Hold on with your thighs. Squeeze. Yes, like that. Follow the natural movement of the horse, don't fight it.”

Her skirt had ridden up, revealing the soft skin of her thighs. That place right above her knees would be a perfect spot to kiss, he thought, sliding one arm more
securely around her waist under the guise of keeping her safe. The fragrance of her hair was intoxicating. He thought of moving aside the curls to kiss her neck, but feared it might send both of them off the horse.