Tara The Great [Nuworld 2] (50 page)

Tara didn’t say anything for a minute. She sniffed and wiped her eyes. “Is Crator

mad at Darius or me?”

The dog-woman laughed. It was a gentle, loving laugh. She looked at Tara, then

over at Darius, who held Andru in his arms. When she turned back to Tara she clasped

her hands together and smiled, a motherly smile, full of wisdom. “Darius is a product

of his culture. He feels no remorse for his actions and acts only upon what he believes to

be true and right. He would not be a good tool for Evil.” She chuckled. “Crator gives all

his creatures free will. You are His tool. He instructs and you carry out. If you falter, He

will guide you, if you let Him. Crator loves his people.”

Tara decided the answer was no.

“Your work is laid out before you. Build a strong army and be prepared.” The dog-

woman raised her hand and disappeared.

Chapter Twenty-Four

The morning smells of coffee brewing and bacon frying awakened Tara. Sore

muscles racked her body and made movement slow. She’d flown back with Darius to

put Andru to bed, then had returned immediately to bury her sister.

Tasha had been easy to find again. The birds of prey led Tara to the corpse. She’d

gathered branches, working through the night in order to give her sister a proper

Runner’s cremation, saying the entire ceremony herself. The sun wasn’t quite up when

she’d returned to the house, showered and climbed into bed next to Darius.

She entered the kitchen, greeting Darius, then stopped dead in her tracks at his

gentle teasing words.

“Two days I’ve been sleeping?” she asked, staring at Darius’ smiling face. She

couldn’t possibly have slept that long. “Is that what you said?”

“You needed the sleep, you did. You slept yesterday away. And, my lady, you look

fabulous, I’d say.” He reached and pulled her to him. She submitted to his powerful

kiss. “You taste good, too.”

“I love you,” she whispered and wrapped her arms around his neck.

The grin that crossed his face was better than anything he could have said in

response. It was charming, boyish. All domination and control vanished from his face

with that one smile. That was when it dawned on her that love was new for them.

Their relationship hadn’t been about love. It had been about control. When had all

that changed? All she knew right now, was she felt more at peace with him than she’d

ever felt before. Felt more like they were a team, one part of a whole.

“I love you, too.”

Breakfast was excellent. The four of them sat as a family while Fulga, the new house

servant Hilda hired, brought bacon, boiled eggs, pastries, and fresh fruit to them.

Andru told his sister about his adventure one more time, how he’d ridden on the

glider with his bad aunt, then returned with his papa. His animated version had Ana

listening to him wide-eyed, though she’d heard the story before. When he finished, she

demanded her turn on the glider.

Darius told Tara that the entire day she’d slept, all he heard from his daughter was

that she wanted her ride on a glider.

Tara giggled. “That’s my daughter.” She told Ana she’d take her for a ride after

breakfast.

And she did. Andru rode with his papa. They flew low, over the rolling hills to the

east. They didn’t go close to the mountain range, turning around long before the

children could see them and wonder what they were. The unpleasantness of what their

people had endured while over there made that direction unappealing for Tara, and she

guessed Darius had sensed her feelings. Several hours later, they pulled into their yard.

“My lady?” Fulga stood at the back door. Her large figure nearly filled the

doorway.

She wasn’t old, but she had five grown children. She’d work well as a nanny, too.

Tara liked her.

Tara looked up after placing Ana on the ground.

“Reena’s here to see you. I have her waiting in the living room, I do.” Fulga

disappeared back into the house quickly.

“Hi, Mama.” Tara entered the living room all smiles and extended her arms to hug

the old woman.

Reena’s swollen eyes and shaking hands brought Tara to a halt. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, Tara-girl.” Reena choked on tears and ran to her daughter’s arms.

Tara held her mama as she cried. After several minutes, she gently pulled the

woman to arm’s reach and looked down into her face.

“Patha is dead.” Reena could barely utter the words.

The words hit Tara like a steel beam in the gut. She blinked twice, the burning

already starting in her eyes. Her mouth fell, but words didn’t come. She looked into

Reena’s eyes, searching. For what, she didn’t know. “What? How?” Tara couldn’t

understand how her papa could be dead.

“He passed in his sleep, he did. We, um, had a wonderful night last night. I fell

asleep in his arms, I did.” Reena whispered the words.

Tara rubbed her arm to let her know she shared her pain.

“He died happy, Tara-girl.”

The two women collapsed into each other’s arms and cried.

Tara had never discussed death with her papa, well not a natural death. More than

once, while sitting around a campfire, they had mulled over dying in battle. Tara

always remembered Patha being the one to reassure the other warriors that a death in

combat would be a proud way to pass on. But Patha didn’t die in such a manner, and he

had never shared his feelings on a Runner dying under other circumstances.

She hadn’t had the chance to tell him about Tasha. Oh, Crator. Her heart was

breaking. After so much happiness from the morning, she couldn’t handle the pain.

When had she last spoken to him? Why hadn’t she gone to him the second she’d buried

Tasha?

She’d been afraid, that’s why.

Reena said he died happy. Would she have said that if he’d known one of his

daughters had killed his other daughter?

Patha forgive me.

She didn’t hear Darius enter. He approached from behind and his strong arms

provided the strength she couldn’t find at that moment. He held both women,

remaining silent while they cried.

Tara finally pulled away. Without speaking, she went upstairs to her room. She

should be doing something right now—organizing, delegating, preparing, something—

she just couldn’t figure out what.

Walking aimlessly around the room, she stopped to stare at the pictures of her

children Darius had hung so long ago when he thought her dead. Time was an odd

thing, she thought. Sometimes there wasn’t enough of it, and other times there was too

much. Over the span of a lifetime, so much could be accomplished, but when all was

said and done, there was always more to do.

Had Patha died satisfied? Had he been pleased with his life’s work? Was there

anything he felt he hadn’t accomplished? Oh, if only she’d made an effort to see him.

But she’d been exhausted. She’d been so wrapped up in dealing with the Lunians,

then her sister.

Why couldn’t she keep a bigger perspective on things?

She always focused on the task at hand and ignored the circumstances going on

around her in the bigger picture. She hadn’t gone to see her papa, and now he was

dead.

Another thought struck her. Her stomach tightened as she turned from the pictures

and walked to the double glass doors. The balcony offered none of its usual hospitality.

Her thoughts plagued her as the new realization sunk in.

She was the leader of all the Runner clans. The entire Runner nation was her

responsibility.

Her thoughts took her back to the age of twelve. She remembered Patha

complaining to Tasha’s mama that he felt he had no real heir. It was right after Tasha

had been caught stealing a motorcycle from one of the adults in the clan. She’d been

caught red-handed and simply laughed it off. Patha said she had no scruples. But Tara

did.

Now, Tara realized she’d work hard to earn the right to be Patha’s heir. She’d

learned all the laws, the history, and the heritage of the Runners. They were a people to

be proud of. She was their leader.

I’m their leader, she said to herself. Or she thought she said it to herself.

“Yes, you are.” The voice came from behind her, quiet and calm, in Darius’ usual

manner.

“Oh, Darius.” Tara moved quickly and found comfort in his strong embrace.

“Contact Jolee,” he whispered into her hair. “She’ll come straight here when she

hears the news about Patha, she will. Have her send soldiers to prepare him for burial.

Do it.”

“Yes, of course.” She pushed herself away and tugged her shirt.

She walked back into her bedroom and stopped. Oh Patha, you can’t be dead. I’m not

ready.

Tara watched Darius walk past her. He picked up her comm from her dresser.

I was going to tell somebody to do something. Patha, come back. I’m not ready to be in

charge. You didn’t give me any warning. I’m not sure I’m ready.

“Tell Jolee that your papa has died. Have her send soldiers to prepare him for

burial.” Darius smiled gently as his eyes met hers.

He handed her the comm. Could he see her fear? No. She wouldn’t let him.

“Jolee,” Tara said.

“I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about me.” Jolee sounded cheerful. “How

are you doing?”

“Jolee.” Oh Crator, can I do this? “Jolee, Patha is dead.”

Silence on the other end.

She thought she heard Jolee clear her throat.

Darius studied her and she wanted to collapse into his arms again.

“I’m so sorry.” Jolee spoke quietly. “Where is he? I’ll send someone to him. The

ceremony should be held day after tomorrow. Is that good for you?”

“Yes, that sounds good.” Oh, Jolee, what would I do without you? She managed a smile

for Darius. Stay in control. “An announcement will need to be made.”

“I’ll make the initial announcement, if you like. The family needs the Time of

Sadness. You can make your speech at the burial ceremony.” Jolee paused, then