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Authors: Susan Grant

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BOOK: The Last Warrior
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They couldn't help themselves, supposedly. It was how they were bred and trained. Their lives were destined to be short, men cut down in battle before they had the chance to make a union proper, legal or permanent.

She pressed her lips together. Why on Uhrth was she even thinking about Tao in
that
way? Her curiosity about the matter was disturbing.

The sound of men's voices approaching stopped her cold. King Xim was striding toward the queen's chambers, his hands behind his back, the half-blind Colonel Uhr-Beck at his side, a gaggle of cronies following in his trail. It would not have been a sight for a second thought, until she saw the expression on the king's face.

Markam's warning echoed in her mind.
“Until all this is settled, Tao must tread carefully. I need you to keep your ears and eyes open for any hints his safety is in jeopardy.”

She dove into an alcove outside the light of the torches, flat up against the wall, holding her breath, her pulse drumming in her ears.

The men paused outside Aza's chambers, so close, but unaware of her presence. “Your Highness,” Beck said, “I don't blame you for not wanting to leave the ballroom tonight. All the fuss. You'd think the man
would show a little humbleness, but he's lapping it all up like a kitt given a bowl of sweet cream.”

Elsabeth strained to eavesdrop, as she'd so often done over the years.

Xim's expression wavered between uncertainty and annoyance. “He gets all the credit, when I funded everything.”

“If only your subjects would see that.”

Tinged with fear, Xim's frown made his young face look old. Beck's one eye narrowed, missing none of the king's unease. “More worrisome are all those soldiers, loyal to him. A dangerous thing, Your Highness.”

“It's my army, not his!” Xim blurted this out in an indignant whisper.

“Yes, My Liege. But, beware. While the army may legitimately be your weapon, as long as Tao's hand is wrapped around the hilt, it's aimed at your heart.”

 

O
UTSIDE
, B
IG
L
UME WAS
nearly out of sight, Little Lume following obediently in its showier companion's path, like two egg yolks dropped in soup. The first stars had already appeared. A half hour remained, no more, before all the Kurel would have to return to the ghetto, according to the new Forbiddance. Tao hadn't had time to hear the new code in its entirety, but confining all capital-dwelling Kurel every night was one of the more dramatic changes.

He found a vantage point by an open window to
look out over the city, including K-Town. The ghetto, as always, took on a strange, soft glow at night that didn't seem to flicker like typical candlelight, or lanterns. It was one more reason Tassagons were fearful of the place—and the people. Then there were the windmills, clusters of the spindly things, catching the stiff breezes coming off the plains. Also odd. What was life like behind those walls, where Elsabeth would soon return?

Woefully deprived of his company, poor girl.

Bah, she wouldn't know what to do with a man like him.

But perhaps he could venture across the cultural divide to teach her, spoiling her for all other lovers once she'd had a warrior in her bed. She wouldn't want to go back to her own pacifistic, intellectual kind once she'd tasted real Tassagon passion.

Behind him, purposeful steps on the polished stone floor ended in abrupt silence. He turned. Elsabeth was in the midst of catching herself from approaching any closer.

She backed away so swiftly and with such dismay that he wondered if she'd somehow seen his thoughts. His bravado of only moments ago turned into bashfulness, making him want to offer apology for the carnal direction of his thoughts. Was it a spell?

She must have come directly from his sister's quarters. “Aza,” he began to say, walking toward Elsabeth,
consciously controlling his stride so that it didn't appear he was chasing her down before she could escape—although he was. “How is she?”

“The queen is as well as can be. I left her with the children, and under the care of the night nurse.” Clutching her blue skirt, she hiked it up to reveal her pointy, laced shoes, a clear sign she was about to run.

“Wait.” She had information he needed. As exasperating as she was, he was determined to get it. He was also damn curious about her. In twenty-eight years alive, these were the most words in a row he'd exchanged with any of her kind. “My sister trusts you, and seems to very much like you. I want to know about her health and her state of mind, both of which you seem to care about more than her husband does.”

Her lips parted slightly at his apparent criticism of Xim, her wary gaze sweeping the alcove for eavesdroppers before she answered him. “She needs to rest. The pregnancy has been hard on Her Highness.”

“And King Xim? Has he been hard on her, too?”

“It's not my place to say, General.”

She didn't want to forfeit her job, he realized, but her expression told him his answer. He wanted to squeeze Xim's scrawny neck in his hands. He'd come home expecting a quieter existence. It didn't seem he'd get his wish any time soon.

The drunken laughter of a large group of men
echoed from nearby. The tutor's jaw was tight. “General, I cannot stay here.”

“We'll finish this in private,” he decided. “My quarters. I myself have had enough wine tonight, but I can certainly offer you a glass.” Fascinated, he watched her peach-colored freckles disappear one by one as a deep blush spread over her cheeks.
Did
Kurel drink? He didn't know.

“Or tea,” he offered.

“General—” she tried.

“Tao is my given name. Both of us serve the realm, we may address each other as equals.”

Her gaze flickered, that hooded, supercilious Kurel regard. He was the commander of a vast legion, and she just a Kurel girl; he was Uhr-born and bred, and she a daughter of sorcerers from the ghetto. Yet, it was clear that she considered herself the superior one, not the other way around, and certainly not his equal.

Hiding his irritation, he gestured for her to come with him. “This way.”

“No. General—
Tao
—the curfew begins at nightfall. This means I must leave the premises.” She enunciated each word with perfect diction, as if he were slow to comprehend. He was a general, damn her, the best strategist in generations, yet she treated him like her preschool charges.

“Do you think I'm so stupid that I don't recognize you can't be out after dark—?” He caught himself
midbellow, dragging a hand over his face. No sense feeding her impression about Tassagon soldiers. “I'll see you escorted safely home afterward. Personally.”

She shook her head. “It's against the law.”

A shield had come down over her expression, but it failed to completely hide her stubbornness—and something else. Apprehension? He understood her dismay at missing the curfew, but he was the highest-ranking soldier in the kingdom; didn't she trust him to keep her safe?

Or, does she see you as the danger?

Of course, that was it.

The Gorr are the monsters, but in this woman's eyes I am a monster.

Frustration threatened to swamp him. For what had he fought so hard, when the peace he'd won meant so little to the rest of humanity? They were all on the same side. Couldn't they see? He'd barely gotten his army back from the Hinterlands intact. Men had died along the way, Uhrth rest their souls. Even those few survivors who didn't bear physical scars suffered from invisible ones that would haunt them the rest of their lives. And this Elsabeth, this Kurel, this mere tutor to children, dismissed all of it by dismissing him.

“Impossible is expecting your assistance, even after asking for help. Impossible is expecting help from any Kurel. Go on, run along, so you can sleep in peace night after night without any appreciation for the
soldiers whose sacrifices are why your kind can lead safe lives in the first place.”

“Safe.” She spat the word as much as said it. Her fists closed in her skirt's blue folds. “Life for the Kurel in this kingdom is no longer safe. There are random raids by the Home Guard. People jailed and never seen again. Senseless killings.” Her voice was low and passionate, and it echoed in Tao's ears. “Don't tell me you haven't heard.”

“Until today, I hadn't.”

Her eyes were dark, her jaw firm. “If you were as smart and capable as everyone says you are, you would have known what was happening.”

“My hands were full battling the Gorr—”

“Chasing glory on a faraway battlefield—”

“Saving the human races from
extinction.
It wasn't my choice to be kept in the dark. I was being protected, apparently. By Markam. Away in the Hinterlands, I was dependent on messengers for my information.”

“Even so.”

They glared at each other, and he gave his head an uncomprehending shake. “Even so? Even so
what?
That I sent our mortal enemy running, tails tucked between their hindquarters?” Dumbfounded, he couldn't fathom how she could dismiss such a thing.

“By your own choice or someone else's you were insulated against atrocities at home. I have no patience for men who bury their heads in the sand, Kurel or
Tassagon. That kind of ignorance killed my parents.” Her anguished eyes misted over, and she turned her head.

“Elsabeth,” he started, in his shock unsure of what to say.

“They went out to the gates to reason with the soldiers,” she whispered. “I tried to get there as soon as I heard. I knew what would happen. But I was too late. Your army got to them first.”

Bloody hell.
“Those weren't my men. They were Beck's.”

She shook her head. “I have to go.”

“Wait.” The pain of losing one's parents he understood. He almost reached for her, but her glare stopped him. She wanted no sympathy from him. “I'm sorry for your loss.”

“What do Uhr-warriors know of loss? Your role on this planet is to destroy life, not create it.”

Wincing, Elsabeth pressed her lips together, but the hateful words were already out, her Tassagonian blood once again overtaking her hard-won Kurel composure.

The general's face had turned hard. He wore the veneer of good manners very well for a Tassagon, but she saw how formidable he could be, if he ever loosed the outrage he seemed to keep in check so well.

He spoke quietly. “Have you smelled the stench after a Gorr attack, human corpses completely emptied
of blood? Have you ever tried to sleep after hearing the Furs' unholy jackal screams in the night, or the cries of your men being ripped apart?” His eyes narrowed against some inner agony. “No, you wouldn't know. Or of losing three brothers on the battlefield, one by one. Then my parents were taken right here in Tassagonia by a swift and stealthy enemy no weapons could fight off.”

The plague. She wondered if he blamed her people for the epidemic as King Xim did.

“I thank Uhrth for my sister. She's all I have left.”

Elsabeth forced herself to meet his eyes, seeing for the first time the man behind them. How could she possibly share anything in common with this Uhr-warrior, this
Butcher of the Hinterlands?
But she did. His family had been decimated, too.

“I would never have supported nor carried out atrocities against other humans,” he finished.

He told the truth. She heard it in his voice. She saw it in his eyes.

She pushed loose hair off her face. “Markam told me that you had nothing to do with the violence. I want to believe him. I…want to believe you,” she added grudgingly.

The general's hackles went down somewhat, but a powerful heartbeat pulsed in his throat.

“I apologize for implying Kurel own the rights to loss,” she said.

“Grief and anger are close companions. Both have a way of overtaking reason. You are my sister's children's tutor. It says a lot about you if Aza trusts you. As for the actions against the Kurel, I will get to the bottom of this insanity, I swear to you.”

The sound of beads tinkling and the swish of slippers cut short their tense standoff. The dancer from dinner swayed toward him, flicking a dismissive glance at Elsabeth. Her breasts strained against filmy netting that barely contained them. She'd applied fresh perfume, a come-hither musk, and it filled the air. Dark, painted lashes fluttered at Tao, her full lips curving as she dragged her finger across the bottom of his chin. “Good Sir, I do believe it is time for your dessert.”

Elsabeth hoisted her skirt, her focus shifting to the dancer. “Stay with him until morning.” The remark came as much to the woman's surprise as Tao's, making the dancer smile like a kitt that had just been thrown a whole fish.

It wasn't until Elsabeth turned to him that Tao saw she was serious. She stepped up to him, her voice a whisper. “Don't let down your guard tonight, even with her.” She backed away from him quickly.

He swiveled his head to keep her in sight. “Explain.”

“Just…do as I say.” She took off in a dead run.

“Elsabeth!”

“Let her go.” The dancer circled behind him and
slid her arms around his waist. Even as he felt his body react to her seductive touch, he took hold of her wrists and untangled her.

“You wish a Kurel over me?” She sounded stung.

It was true that he'd imagined teaching Aza's tutor a few lessons of his own, but she'd just revealed that he had unfinished business to attend to. Amorous play of any sort would have to wait. He pressed his chamber key into the dancer's hennaed hand. “I wish
you
in my bed, sweetling. Wait for me.”

Tao strode after the tutor, but reaching a confluence of several corridors, he couldn't be sure which path she'd taken. Likely out the first exit and to K-Town.

BOOK: The Last Warrior
2.19Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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