by Susan Grant
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.
“YOU’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 p
robably 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.
TAO 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.
A grinding, grating rumble told Tao the bad news: Big Lume had barely peeked above the horizon and the entrance to Kurel Town was already being pulled open for the day. By the arks! Of all mornings to be opening the gates early. Hadn’t the guards heard the howls?
Even if they had, they wouldn’t know what they meant, likely assuming the howls were a sorcery of some kind. Gorr were familiar to soldiers and few others. “No!” he shouted to the guards in the gate shack. “Keep them closed!” But the men stared at him, stupidly, too baffled by the sight of a bare-chested Kurel on horseback, armed with a crossbow, chasing after two monsters from the Hinterlands.
A group of Kurel formed a hasty blockade bristling with clubs, homemade spears, rakes and hoes. Tao’s chest swelled with pride at the courage of the spontaneous militia, and also alarm; they were civilians at the mercy of their inexperience.
Fangs snapping, the Furs clawed their way through the Kurel to reach the gates. Tao had feared he’d see many more fall to the Gorr, but those who’d taken a blow from a passing claw were being pulled out of the way by the others.
Home guards waited in the street on the Tassagon side, likely drawn close to the gates by the howling and chaos in K-Town. But they were unprepared for what was coming at them.
The larger of the two Furs took a guard down. Horrific snarling ended the man’s scream abruptly.
“Move aside!” Tao warned the remaining, shocked guards. Like the Kurel, they’d never fought or even seen the Furs. He wanted them out of the way and the streets cleared for battle. “Stand back.”
Automatically in the confusion, they responded to the military authority in his voice. Meanwhile, shouts of “Gorr” had sent screaming townspeople scurrying.
Tao kicked the mare and rode out the gates after the Furs. A tall, lanky Tassagon guard remained in the middle of the street, in the path of the loping Gorr. His comrades called to him but he didn’t respond. The blade he’d been brandishing had fallen from his fist to the ground.
Charmed. The man had caught the eye of the Gorr as it came away from feeding off the fallen guard. The creature fell into a crouch, bright blood dripping from its fangs. It coiled, then sprang. As it launched its body on powerful hind legs to attack the paralyzed Tassagon, Tao let an arrow fly. A satisfying thwunk—the arrow sank into its ribcage with a spray of black-red blood. The leaping Gorr continued to fly at the man’s throat, but it was already dead.
Tao’s last glimpse of the near-fatal attack was the guard sitting up, blinking in astonishment as he shoved a limp Gorr off his chest.
Tao gripped the prancing mare with his thighs, waiting for a clean shot at the last Gorr. By the time he could safely take aim, the Gorr had taken a spear in the withers. Navi’s whoop was unmistakable.
“Good shot, Navi!” Tao reloaded to fire on the wounded Gorr. His mare stumbled. The arrow went low, skidding over the dirt. The fleeing Gore turned on him, panting. The vaguely human face and ears, the flat snout and fangs, the thin tail swishing in warning—it was a scene burned in his memory, a nightmare he’d lived for much of his adult life. Usually there were hundreds of them, relentless, indescribably vicious attackers. Now just this one last monster.
Tao lifted the bow and took aim in the name of all the men he’d lost, all the lives over all the long years that had been ended too soon because of them. The Gorr.
“Uhr-Tao,” it growled. “Uhr-Tao.”
Tao jolted with shock. Everything about this one indicated it wasn’t an alpha, thus it should not be able to speak the human language, let alone know his name. It wasn’t supposed to be any more than a mute foot soldier, a brainless beast.
Was something happening amongst the vanquished Furs that he’d never anticipated? Had the alpha blood become so concentrated that the traits of speech were being passed on to all pups?
No time to worry about that. If it got away, it could reach the palace in too few leaps, and he couldn’t have that. Tao let the arrow fly as the Gorr came at him in a suicidal leap. It met its end in midair and fell to the ground. A few twitches, and it lay still.
Tao turned sharply back through the gates into the ghetto. He was still a fugitive, to be arrested, and likely shot, on sight. Shock on the part of the guards had been the only thing saving him so far.
The pounding of hoofbeats met him inside the gates. Clearing dust revealed a makeshift, ragtag cavalry coming up the main street of K-Town. Kurel had mounted horses and even a mule. Others were driving a motley assortment of carts and wagons, s
peeding toward him. Behind them, a second wave of Kurel militia came on foot.
His reinforcements. When they saw him thrust a triumphant fist in the air, a gesture emulated by Navi and the many Kurel who had created the blockade, they cheered.
Tao soaked in the feeling of victory that was made even sweeter when he saw a woman running toward him, holding a spear with bandaged hands, flame-red hair streaming behind her.
He jumped down from the horse, his heart still kicking hard from battle. Seeing her agonized, tear-streaked face kicked his pulse up a few notches higher.
She crashed into him, the spear clattering to the ground as he crushed her to his chest. His hand was spread on the back of her head as he drew in her scent, her essence, using her to anchor him to the real world, and away from death and the pounding, blinding, bloodlust of battle.
Only belatedly did he realize she was speaking to him. No, yelling at him. “Don’t ever do that,” she was saying, her voice muffled against his neck as she pounded him with a bandaged fist. “Never again. I looked and you were gone.” Her voice shook. “I ran… I didn’t know if I’d find you alive or dead.”
He gently caught her injured fist, feeling helpless in the wake of her tears, the first he’d seen. “I had to fight them. There was no time to say goodbye.”
“They never said goodbye, either.” Her body shook. “I ran. I ran to this very place, and I found them.” Her voice was a ragged, anguished whisper. “I found them here. Dead.”
She meant her parents, of course. She’d run the same route again, today, chasing after him. Reliving the trauma of the day her parents were slaughtered.
The intensity of her reaction proved how much she cared for him. The intensity of his feelings for her shook him to the core.
He took her face between his hands. “Beth, I’m alive, not dead. This is the present. We’re the future.” He pressed his forehead to hers as she nodded, absorbing his words. “Take this moment, this day, this memory, and replace the other.”
