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Authors: Susan Grant

The Last Warrior (23 page)

BOOK: The Last Warrior
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CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

W
ORD OF THE
G
ORR ATTACK
raced through the ghetto like a torch touched to lamp oil. As the horizon silvered with the coming dawn, a bell clanged from the tallest windmill, issuing a warning.

“Keep calm.” Tao was directing the crowd gathering outside Elsabeth's house. He'd grabbed the creature by its tail to drag it out of the street.

The Gorr had been a mature alpha, judging by its size and ability to speak the language. They were usually robust and muscular, but this one was practically fur and bones, half starved to death. He made the sign of Uhrth over his chest, brushing his fingertips over the amulet and bringing them briefly to his lips. It had not been his night to die, thank Uhrth, nor Elsabeth's. They owed the fact they were still alive to the Gorr's weakened condition—and also that loose hatch door, waking him in time. Now the question remained—was it a lone alpha? Rare, but possible due to the Gorr being in retreat. If there was a larger attack looming, there'd
not be time to properly prepare anyway, but in the immediate moment, quelling panic was paramount. Else he'd not be able to teach these generations of pacifists how to set up a proper defense.

“Just a few cuts,” Elsabeth said bravely as she emerged from the clinic, where Chun had treated her wounds. She'd changed out of her stained and torn nightgown into a plain, blue wool dress, her tangled hair twisted into a bun at the base of her neck. “The blood made it look worse. What about you?” She tried to pull his arm back to see his blood-spattered skin. He'd donned a coat over his bare chest, a hasty concession in deference to Kurel modesty. “Go see Chun,” she said.

“I'm fine,” he muttered, pulling free, the crossbow gripped tightly in one hand. He paused, seeing her dismayed expression. Didn't she know that when a general said he was fine, no one doubted his word? No one had fretted for him on the battlefield. “I really am,” he assured her, gentler.

She was as pale as he'd ever seen her. “It killed two pigeons. Blood and feathers everywhere. The rest are uninjured, but agitated.” She reminded him of a field captain reporting casualties—one who had suffered a great loss of troops.

She had no idea of how much life a battle could extinguish.

“Imagine that hundreds of Gorr had attacked in
the night, perhaps catching your regiment by surprise. Think of the lives lost, men you knew, friends, even family.” He found her troubled gaze. “Is it so difficult to understand now why I went to war? And why hearing the Kurel call me a monster when these were the true monsters was so galling?” He gave the dead Gorr a shove with his boot. Those closest in the crowd took a collective step back. “Monsters I tried to keep from your doorstep,” he added angrily. How did it get here—and with apparently single-minded purpose—to find him?

Nearly killing Elsabeth to get at him. The loss of her one life would have shattered him as the thousands of others had never completely done. Sliding his arm over her shoulders, he gathered her close. “I am sorry about the pigeons.”

She shook her head. “No, you're right. They were birds. They could have been neighbors.” She leaned into his embrace. “They could have been you.”

He closed his eyes, murmured into her soft hair, “I didn't mean to lose my temper.”

“You were worried.”

More like terrified—of losing her. He also needed to let his anger go, and stop rubbing it in Elsabeth's face that she'd once thought he was a monster like the Gorr.

The elders arrived to view the scene. Farouk's distinctive hair bobbed like a ball of white fluff above the
other heads. “Move aside. Let me through.” He used his cane as a battering ram to push people aside until he had a clear view of the corpse.

The ancient viewed the dead monster, his gaze traveling from the Gorr's sharp, yellowed fangs to the furred limbs, the claws and whiplike tail, and the thick, callused pads on the feet that facilitated nimble travel without shoes.

As advanced as Farouk was in years and experience, he'd never laid eyes on a Gorr. It was obvious in the horrified amazement contorting his withered features.

He shifted his attention to Tao. “This is your area of expertise, not ours. Tell us what to do.”

“Allow me to address the crowd.”

“Do it.”

Tao cupped his hands around his mouth, calling out, “We don't know if this Gorr is acting alone. There could be others. We can fend them off, if we're prepared. Arm yourselves. Have your neighbors do the same.” He stopped himself. By the arks, these were Kurel. They had no weapons. “Big sticks to bat away claws and jaws,” he told them instead. “Anything you can use as a shield—a table, a stool. Assign one member of each family to carry a torch, the oilier the better. The Furs don't like smoke. But for the love of Uhrth, be careful. We don't want to burn down Kurel Town. When that is done, meet in the town center
with your weapons to be assigned your defense station locations.” He squinted at the swiftly lightening sky. “When Little Lume is at one hand. No later.”

The crowd dispersed. He'd told them frightening news, given them even more terrifying instructions, yet there was no screaming, no panicked pushing or shoving. If they felt fear, they controlled the symptoms well. He turned to Navi. “Repeat what I just said to as many others as you can.”

The boy ran off to do his bidding.

“Why help us?” a woman asked, tugging a wide-eyed child behind her as she stepped nearer. A circle of curious Kurel gathered around to hear his answer.

He suspected this was the first time any of them were willing to speak to a warrior. “Because we're
humans,
and every last one of us counts—Tassagon, Rider and Kurel. We can't afford to lose a single one of
us
to
them
.”

From that point forward, Tao focused on preparing the Kurel to defend their enclave against the Furs. It wasn't as difficult as he'd predicted, not with Elsabeth by his side, setting the example for her people, and Navi acting as able messenger. The effect of the Gorr attack had been galvanizing. Tao knew the war had always felt very far away for the Kurel. No longer.

After gathering in the town center, everyone was sent to his and her stations. The streets filled with Kurel darting this way and that, torches smoking, to
be carried to the edge of town on all sides. The scene seemed chaotic at first impression, but the seriousness of their faces showed their focus on their tasks. He assigned a trio of capable-looking men to observation duty at the top of the windmill. “Do you have spyglasses?”

“We have binoculars.” One of the men, a self-described “engineer,” showed Tao the odd, double spy glass, helping him focus the lenses to see through it.

“By the arks.” Tao gaped through the dual sights. “It's magic.” He caught himself and winced at the gaffe. It had been some time since he'd explained away Kurel science as magic or sorcery. “To use a figure of speech,” he corrected, taking a pair for his use, slinging the strap over his neck. “Ring the bell if there's a sighting. One for north, two for east, three for south and four for west.” Once he was confident the men understood his instructions, he ordered them up to the top, the tallest point in the ghetto—and in the entire capital, save the palace hill.

He cast a look in that direction. The fortress stood alone and lonely, overlooking the city. Was Aza all right? And where was Markam?

Elsabeth raced back from her task of readying the clinic with Chun, in case there were injuries. They knew there were insufficient resources for mass casualties, but they had to prepare as best they could.

He welcomed her with an arm slung over her shoulders to draw her close. He was no longer caring of who saw them as a couple. Nor did Elsabeth seem to be concerned. They were together now and that was that.

The bell pealed, three rings shattering the still morning air.

A familiar rush went through him, a call to extreme readiness, allowing absolute composure to take over. It was time for battle. “South,” Tao said with urgency. “There are Gorr in the southern part of K-Town.”

Elsabeth went pale. “That's the market.”

Nodding, Tao took her by the shoulders, looked into her eyes. “I don't know how many Gorr yet. Get Chun, and the wagon. Load it with bandages and medicines. No delay.”

What about you?
She wanted to plead.
Where will you be?
But she knew the answer: he'd be with everyone else, the unlikely defenders of Kurel Town, guarding their home with everything they had.

He squeezed her shoulder. The Tao she'd come to know, the tender lover she was falling for—whom she
had
fallen for—was gone, stowed behind the fortified wall that was the legendary General Uhr-Tao. “Meet you there.”

Turning to jog away, his bow at the ready, he reloaded with an arrow from a supply stored somewhere in his coat. The arrows looked homemade, like his
slingshot. He seemed to have built an arsenal while she wasn't looking, preparing for a day she never knew would come. Maybe that was the real reason for armies—not for shows of power, the love of violence or the sheer arrogance of flexing muscle, but to ensure that the defenseless were protected.

No delay.
She wheeled around and sped off to do as her general had ordered.

 

“Y
OU'RE GOING TO KILL
someone.”

Elsabeth drove the wagon through the streets like a madwoman, even as Chun warned her to slow down. “We're at war, Chun. People have to watch out for us, not the other way around.”

She yanked hard on the reins, steering the horse around a trio running hard to catch up with those answering the bell's warning. She barely missed them, but they didn't appear to notice. Carrying clubs and a broom, they were running toward the market and the disturbing sounds of shouts and screams.

Gorr.
There were monsters in the city. The Kurel's true enemy were the Gorr, not the Tassagons. She felt shame at the way her species had conducted themselves since the Gorr first invaded, fighting each other, not focusing on the real threat. Their attention had been on the difference with their fellow humans for far too long.

It was time to learn never to make that mistake again.

Ahead, Tao rode a nervous mare, apparently called into unexpected action like everyone else in the ghetto. That horse had probably never carried more than a placid farmer on its back. Now it bore Tassagonia's most decorated war hero into battle.

“Here is good,” Chun said, and she stopped the wagon. The physician had called no less than a half dozen nurses and another doctor into action. But she couldn't make herself feel part of the group as Chun gave them instructions; her attention kept returning to Tao and his effort at setting up effective military defenses in a pacifist ghetto. Her skills lay more with the group of healers than they did the volunteer soldiers, but she felt useless waiting for someone to be wounded in order to act.

Tao's horse whinnied and reared up as he lifted a pair of binoculars to his eyes, his coat flapping behind him. He'd seen something.

What and how many, and were they headed his way?

He took off riding, and her whole world tunneled. She was back in the streets of three years ago on that desperate run to see if her parents had been killed by the guards. Inside her mind, she saw the grasping hands of her neighbors as they tried to stop her from reaching them, and she relived her choking horror
when she had. Now Tao thought he could ride off and leave her here? She refused to stay behind when others, even some other women, had already answered the call to fight. No, she had to obey the primal instinct inside her that commanded her to defend and protect what she loved—her city, and her man.

“Take one.” Hashimoto the blacksmith was handing out crude spears made of blades lashed to sticks.

Elsabeth jumped down from the driver's seat, slinging a medical supply bag over one shoulder and snatching one of the spears from the smith with her other hand. “Thank you, I will.” She left Chun gaping after her as she ran into the crowd, following in Tao's wake.

 

T
AO SMELLED IT ON THE
wind. Musk. He pulled around the skittish mare and peered past a line of Kurel defenders bristling with sticks, rakes and clubs, whatever they could grab. “Be ready,” he shouted. “Do not look them in the eye.”

A crash—the crunching of wood and shattering glass—and two abandoned produce stands collapsed. Something was inside them. As several melons rolled over the dirt, the stench of Gorr sharpened. The musk was a warning, a battle cry. The creatures were poised to make their attack.

He was ready for them.

He aimed the crossbow, sweeping it from stall to
empty stall. Movement in the corner of his eye. Then another crash. Three dark shapes streaked out of the morning shadows, racing across the eerily empty marketplace.

Their gold eyes were honed in on him. He angled his gaze away, tracking the advance obliquely. Gorr—an immature alpha and two smaller betas. They, too, looked emaciated, but being all fangs and claws, they'd be no less dangerous for the lack of body mass.

“Fire!” Tao bellowed and let his arrow fly.

His arrow caught the alpha through the torso. He'd missed the heart, but the creature bled out within a few leaps, falling in a twitching ball of bloodied fur.

The howls released by the remaining two were as plaintive as they were ear piercing. Despite the bell in the windmill, that caterwauling was going to be heard throughout the capital.

Panicked without their alpha, the pair fled, heading in the direction of the ghetto gates. Tao rode hard after them.

The street leading up to the palace hill would soon be bustling with townspeople starting their day. He couldn't let the two Gorr enter the capital proper and wreak havoc. While the Kurel had been semiprepared, a Gorr attack would take the Tassagons completely off guard.

BOOK: The Last Warrior
8.26Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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