The Last Warrior

Elsabeth crouched next to her. “Please. The baby. Go, get dressed for your party, laugh with your brother. Don’t worry about anything. Others will make sure the general is safe.”

“Others will? Who?”

Wrenching hope glowed in the queen’s anguished stare, making Elsabeth regret the words that had just spilled from her lips. She had to be careful or Markam would be executed, Tao would be captured or killed, the ghetto burned and Tassagonia would be no closer to ridding itself of its parasite king.

Elsabeth tried to keep her voice and words as neutral as possible. “Everything will work out, My Queen. You’ll see.”

Their eyes met, and a sort of understanding passed between them. Aza’s shoulders lost some tension, and she drew her daughter closer. Whatever the queen had gleaned from Elsabeth’s gaze was enough.

Elsabeth hoped the knowledge didn’t kill the woman.

“Don’t forget to come fetch me from dinner before the night nurse arrives. I want to see the children before bedtime.”

“I will,” Elsabeth promised.

The queen started to leave, then stopped. “And Elsabeth…?”

“Yes, My Queen?”

“You’re a love for listening to me.”

A pang of guilt. Everything Aza confided went straight to Markam.

The queen left to change gowns and prepare for the banquet. The children were carried away for their naps. Elsabeth remained in the classroom, pulling out a forbidden book and cracking it open to read, as she did many a quiet afternoon in the palace. After all, the children were still too young to endure long hours of learning. Often Aza would find her and ask for a lesson in reading, but always when Xim was far from her chambers. Elsabeth would fill the rest of the boring hours with her nose in storybooks, getting lost in other people’s adventures.

Can I count on you, Elsabeth?

She closed the book and flattened her hand on the cover. The memory of Markam’s request for help ended all hopes of reading. She should be living a safe life as a nice Kurel accountant’s wife, spending the afternoon curled up in a cozy cottage with a favorite book and a cup of honey-tea. Instead she was biding time in a stone fortress, at risk of getting caught in a crime that could see her executed for treason.

At least she’d give them a reason for her execution. Her parents had given them none.

Yes, you can count on me.

CHAPTER FOUR

AFTER WASHING THE ROAD dust from his skin and changing into his formal uniform, Tao arrived in the banquet hall. The bracing days of winter seemed a long way off with such intense light and heat pouring through the windows. Servants had drawn heavy drapes against the suns, blocking out the light but holding in the dense air. A veritable army of other servants perspired as they operated giant cogs and wheels to spin ornate fans overhead, creating a much-needed breeze.

Savory scents made Tao’s belly grumble and his mouth water. He’d eaten reasonably well in the encampments in the Hinterlands—plentiful game, fruits, nuts and vegetables—but it was a soldier’s diet prepared by his men or one of the female camp followers, not palace chefs who’d outdone themselves preparing a boggling array of delicacies. Snatching a piece of pastry-encased roasted meat off an offered tray, he popped it in his mouth, chewing contentedly. Aza was at his side, cheerfully filling him in on the passage of time, the children, her hobbies, yet only the barest details of her marriage, keeping her arm linked with his in the endless crush of well-wishers at the party.

“Savior of us all…”

“Thank you, good sir.”

Dancers spun close. “Warm your bed tonight, sir?” offered a dulcet voice.

“A scented-oil massage,” tempted another with a glimpse of kohl-lined dark eyes.

“I expected gratitude,” Tao confided to his sister, “but they’re treating me like a demigod, for Uhrth’s sake.”

Markam overheard and chuckled. “I told you, Tao, but you wouldn’t believe me.” With a nod at Aza, he turned to leave them. “I will see you later, Tao.”

“You can’t escape, Markam,” Tao said. “Not if I can’t.”

“Some of us still need to work for a living. You, however, are on vacation.”

“Get back here and help me through this.”

Aza pretended to be indignant. “You make my parties sound no better than going to the dentist.”

“Both are a necessary pain, my dear sister.”

Aza pushed at him playfully, her laughter sweet. It did his heart good to see her this way. He couldn’t put a finger on it, but she seemed more relaxed than earlier. “Not to worry,” he assured her. “I’m enjoying myself immensely.”

Markam nodded at Aza, his smile for her gentle, then he strode away, careful to circumvent a troupe of musicians. The singers were belting out a ballad about Tao’s exploits.

They were escorted to a table seating hundreds, Xim at the head, Aza at his right and Tao to the left. Down each side were Xim’s loyalists. The banquet commenced, a circus of food and drink, marred by shallow conversation, overly long stories and competition for the king’s favor amongst those retainers already favored enough to be seated in the hall. Platter after platter was presented, picked over and stuffed into hungry mouths. Limbs from roasted and smoked carcasses were ripped apart and slathered with gravy, and washed down with ale and wine. The pointless excess of palace life, Tao thought, while pretending to enjoy the event for his sister’s sake.

Aza was in her element, making everyone laugh, while Xim alternately tore at his food and studied Tao. Hunting for malice in every word, every action, Tao was sure. As the evening wound down and the amount of wine consumed went up, the king grew more talkative. Out of the blue, he rested his weight on his arms and leaned forward. “Tell me, Tao. You’ve accomplished at twenty-eight Uhrth years what most men haven’t at eighty. What does a man do when he reaches the zenith of his life at such a young age?”

Tao almost choked on the wine he’d just sipped. “I would hope my life is anything but over. While the days of racking up military victories are behind me, the years ahead promise much to look forward to.”

“Like what?” Xim leaned back in his seat, his index finger curving under his chin. “You’ve driven back the Gorr and won me all the lands of the realm. What is left for you to do?”

“I’ll settle on my family’s ancestral lands outside the city.”

“In the hills,” Aza murmured, nodding. “We spent our summers there as children, to escape the monsoon. So lovely.”

Xim scoffed at Tao as if Aza hadn’t spoken. “I can’t see you farming.”

“My focus will be on the vineyards, overseeing the production of wine.”

“And heirs,” his sister put in with a wink. “I want many nieces and nephews to spoil. But first we’ll have to find you a wife.” She squeezed his arm lovingly. Her perfume enveloped them. “There is no shortage of lovelies in the kingdom, but how will I find one to enchant you long enough to commit?”

“I’ve already had this talk once today,” Tao said. “Markam cautioned me against the hazards of marriage.”

“Did he?” A funny look came over her. She shifted her attention to pushing food around on her plate with a crust of bread. She’d hardly touched her meal. “What does Markam know of that?”

Xim watched them like a brooding hawk. “A wine-maker,” he sneered. “The Butcher of the Hinterlands, of all people.”

Tao bristled at the slur as Xim lifted his goblet to the light of a chandelier to study the burgundy liquid. “I wonder, will your wine be sweet…or taste like vinegar?” He narrowed his eyes at Tao.

“My estate will never be able to produce anything to compete with what your sommelier has served us tonight, Your Highness. That is a certainty. Your wine is like silk on the tongue. In a word, magnificent.” Tao lifted his goblet in a toast.

“Hmmph,” Xim said.

Eyeing each other warily, the two men emptied their glasses. Tao’s didn’t have a chance to land on the tablecloth before it was refilled. He waited for Xim’s to be poured before he reached for his. An intricate game, politics was, but in a tedious, manipulative, unfulfilling way. Tao preferred battlefield planning, where the aim was for the greater good, not to further one man’s ambitions.

With dessert, the dancers returned to entertain them. Barely a shred of clothing covered their gyrating bodies. A curvaceous dancer, with her jeweled skin glistening and her eyes glowing with erotic promise, came spinning into his lap and kissed him.

Perhaps some bed sport was what he needed to reacclimatize to Tassagonia. Indeed, followed by a long soak in a hot tub, a massage and the remains of a good bottle of wine, all to be enjoyed without having to worry about Gorr slipping past the defenses to strike while he wasn’t looking.

Tao murmured in the dancer’s ear, “Find me after dessert,” and sent her away with a playful swat on her backside.

He stretched and leaned back in his seat, determined to enjoy himself. As he inhaled, he detected a new scent wafting over him, as fresh as dawn dew, in contrast to the spicy aroma of the entertainer. He twisted in his chair to see a woman with distinctive copper-colored hair walk up to the king and queen.

Well, well. She who thinks me a monster.

She stopped in front of the royal couple, hiking up her skirt hem to curtsy, revealing a few inches of white stockings. As she dipped low, the bodice of her dress gaped just enough for him to glimpse the swell of her breasts cradled in filmy white cotton.

That modest peek did more to fan his desire than any of the dancers in their provocative, barely there costumes. He was utterly aware of this female, who alone amongst the guests in attendance paid him no regard at all, who treated him as if he were as compelling as an ant.

That was the Kurel for you.

She rose and released her skirt, ending Tao’s casual appraisal of what was a very nice set of slender ankles.

“Ah, Elsabeth,” Aza said excitedly. “I want to introduce you to my brother, General Tao.”

Elsabeth’s focus shifted to him. The expression on her face was typically Kurel, as impenetrable as a Barrier Peaks ice cave in winter.

“Hello, Elsabeth,” Tao said dryly, with a hint of a conspiratorial smile. She’d be forced to interact with him now.

“He won’t bite,” Aza teased with obvious affection for the silent girl, “though sometimes he acts it.” Her warning glance at Tao clearly said, Be nice. “Miss Elsabeth is the royal tutor. An extraordinary one at that.”

“I believe it, Aza. We’ve actually met, this morning while Miss Elsabeth was on her way to work.”

“Wonderful!” Aza clapped her hands together.

“Elsabeth was in a hurry. There was no time to stop and talk. But,” he said dryly. “I hope I kept her from being late.”

Everyone was listening now. Elsabeth’s blue eyes bored into his for one brief, dismayed moment. And then she actually blushed. When was the last time any woman turned red around him? The camp followers certainly hadn’t seemed capable, no matter what feats his fellow officers suggested they perform.

Elsabeth explained to the queen, “I was stopped on my way to the palace for a random security inspection. The general graciously shortened the process.” She faced him. “General Uhr-Tao, please forgive my belated thanks. My gratitude is genuine.”

Her cool eyes told a different story.

She returned her regard to Aza, and her expression warmed considerably. “Your Highness, I have come to inform you of the night nurse’s arrival.”

Aza started to rise. Xim’s hand shot out and grabbed her wrist to jerk her back into her seat. His sister’s swift, frightened gasp almost had Tao on his feet, ready to intercede, when her quick glance warned him not to. It’s all right, her eyes said.

Tao’s muscles remained coiled. It was not all right.

“Leaving, Aza?” Xim’s smile was at odds with the tautness of his body. “The party isn’t over.”

“It will soon be time for Elsabeth to go home. I wanted to check on the children before the night nurse takes over.”

“That worthless Kurel will go when you tell her to go.”

Elsabeth stood with her eyes meekly downcast, but Tao wagered they were filled with fear and venom. What terror had Xim roused in his own kingdom? What hatred?

“There’s a sunset-to-sunrise curfew for Kurel-Town,” Aza said quietly, “which you imposed, Your Highness. She cannot be out after dark.”

Xim made a disdainful sound. “I suppose if we let one of them circumvent the rules, they’ll all want to.” He waved irritably. “Go then.”

When Xim made no move to help his pregnant wife to her feet, Tao stood and moved behind the king’s chair to reach his sister’s, but Elsabeth had started to assist the queen at the same time. Aza waved him away. “I’m fine,” she whispered.

“You’re lying,” he whispered back.

Stubbornly, she pressed her lips together, appearing more embarrassed by Xim’s treatment of her than afraid. As a little girl, she’d been fearless. She still was, it seemed.

“I’ll see you on the morrow, dear brother. Go, enjoy the wine.” Her gaze darted to the entertainers. “And maybe a dancer or two.” She bent down to Xim, taking his startled face in her hands, and kissed him on the mouth until his resistance melted into passion. To the delighted applause of those at the table, she smiled down at him. “Thank you, my husband, for this wonderful feast and for welcoming my brother with such generosity.”

Her eyes flicked to Tao, willing him to remain, then she walked away, holding on to Elsabeth’s offered arm. Astounded, Tao watched her go. It seemed his sister was better at politics than he was, by far.

Aza’s departure stole all the levity from the meal, and certainly from Tao.

“Help me up,” Xim demanded of those who seemed to have no more purpose in life than to hover in the vicinity of their king. Aides who had ignored the queen now hastened to pull back his chair and brush crumbs from his clothes.

The king was unsteady on his feet as Tao followed him and the other revelers to the ballroom, scouring the area for Markam. First, violence in K-Town. Now, Aza’s welfare. What else was his old friend keeping secret out of some misguided need to protect him?

Politics, Tao thought with renewed distaste. Too many shades of gray here in the capital.

On the battlefield, life was simple. Everything was black and white. Yes, and red. Memories rippled through his mind, the night shattered by screams…the stench of death, and of the Gorr…

Someone tugged at his sleeve, startling him. “General! I thank you. All in my home thank you.”

A paper-wrapped cake was pushed into his hands as he blinked away the waking nightmare. Peacetime would take some getting used to.

“If not for you, General, where would we be?”

“Dead, I tell you,” said another.

Adoring fans clustered around him, all hoping for a private word or simply a chance to touch his uniform. They pressed him for war stories, tales of heroism and combat with the Furs. What few questions he answered terrified them and only made them insatiable for more. A few even offered their daughters’ hands in marriage, which would have pleased Aza and amused Markam, all while Xim alternately conferred with his cronies and glowered at him. In that moment, Tao would have traded life in the city for one more night under the stars in a Hinterlands encampment.

Firmly declining further pleas for his attention, he escaped the ballroom’s thick, oppressive murk of perfume, sweat and smoky oil lamps, and went in search of fresh air.

ELSABETH CLOSED THE DOOR to the nursery behind her, pausing for a moment to search the shadows and gather her thoughts before leaving for the ghetto. The queen had acted both sad and determined, leaving Elsabeth certain her intent was to lure Xim into her bed tonight to distract him, insurance against potential harm to her brother.

Maybe it wasn’t necessary. Tao wouldn’t be alone tonight. The giggling dancer he’d played with on his lap would be playing in his bed before too long. Many more females would frolic on his lap and between his sheets tonight and in the nights to come. It was rumored Uhr-warriors had sexual appetites as voracious as those of the beasts in the animal kingdom.

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.”

OUTSIDE, BIG LUME 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.”