The Last Warrior by Susan Grant Page A

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.”
    â€œJust…do as I say.” She took off in a dead run.
    â€œElsabeth!”
    â€œLet her go.” The dancer circled behind him andslid 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.
    â€œYou 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.
    Don’t let down his guard? Why?
    He suspected that no one had given him the full story since he’d returned home. How serious was the Kurel unrest in the ghetto? What drove his sister’s unhappiness in her marriage? How likely was Xim to grant Tao’s men land and wives when he seemed to view them as a threat? Or was only Tao the threat?
    It was time he found out the truth.

CHAPTER FIVE
    â€œD AMN THAT ONE-EYED bastard,” Markam hissed.
    As he escorted her to the palace exit, they spoke in low tones, their manner casual to anyone who would have observed, the routine of chatting at day’s end no different from what they’d done for years, no matter that her heart was kicking so hard it felt as if it would leap out of her rib cage and draw attention to her treasonous deeds.
    â€œBeck was very nearly mortally wounded at the front, left blinded in both eyes. But the hotheaded fool survived—and regained sight in one eye. Tao should have let the man fall on his sword when he became useless on the battlefield, the way it was always done.”
    Never had such open anger roughened Markam’s voice. His temper was always under tight control.
    â€œAlways done?” Appalled, Elsabeth glanced sideways at him. “Where is mercy in all this?”
    â€œTo an Uhr, the circumstances of his death are as important as his deeds in life. A warrior must diehonorably, even if that end is hastened at the hand of his fellow soldiers to speed the boarding of the angels’ arks. But, Tao had Beck sent home to the Barracks for Maimed Veterans.”
    â€œTao being Tao?” she prompted.
    â€œHis personal sense of honor is so great, he sometimes neglects to believe the lack of it in others.”
    â€œAs in Beck…”
    â€œYes. Beck blames Tao for stealing his warrior’s death.”
    â€œBut Uhr-Tao saved him.”
    â€œOf course. But to Beck, Tao dishonored him in the worst possible way. Beck recovered enough sight to train recruits here in the capital, yes, but he doesn’t see himself as serving a useful purpose—he sees himself as an object of shame, and Tao as the one responsible for his plight. Tao allowed a fellow Uhr the chance to resume being an essential part of the Tassagon army, but all he did was create a bitter enemy.”
    Tao being Tao. “Because his personal sense of honor is so great, he sometimes neglects to believe the lack of it in others,” she said under her breath. Now she could see why Markam had described his friend that way. Her confrontation with the general had led to this conversation, and to something she hadn’t expected: a revelation.
    At the exit, Markam stopped, his heels clickingcrisply together as he wished her good-night. “Thank you for