Nuworld: The Saga Begins

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Nuworld: The Saga Begins Page 4

by Lorie O'Clare


  Tara passed a gap between two of the stores. It was wide enough for a vehicle to move between them. The tall buildings cast shadows, and she realized this was not a place where the townsfolk walked. It was full of trashcans and the smell reflected that fact, along with the flying insects hovering over the bins.

  Tara’s keen eye caught the movement of several figures at the other end of the alley, and she stopped to watch them. Young boys obviously hoping not to be detected clung to the shadows. They were probably supposed to be in school. She started to look away, a smile creeping up on her face, when she spotted several other children entering the service road behind the first group.

  “There they are!” one of the boys yelled.

  She slipped easily enough behind a large trashcan and squatted unnoticed as she continued to watch the boys on the dark road.

  “You’ll be dealing with me now.” A large youth of thirteen or fourteen winters walked with sureness toward the group Tara had first noticed. “Let’s see if you can fight, Torgo.” He was almost twice the size of the younger boy whom he addressed.

  Tara realized quickly that the younger boy had very few fighting skills as he backed awkwardly down the alley.

  His comrades spread away from him, the hope of escape obvious in their faces.

  “Don’t be telling me we have a coward here?” The large boy laughed, lunging at the younger one as he feigned a punch. “It couldn’t be, I would think.”

  Torgo turned and made an attempt to run, but he was quickly overtaken and thrown to the ground. He tried to yell.

  But the older boy sat on him and put one hand over Torgo’s mouth. With the other, he started hitting Torgo. “Not only can you not fight, you would cry like a baby for help, would you?” The large boy laughed again; the other boys stood around watching.

  Tara removed the small laser from her dress pocket and shot at a trashcan next to the group of boys. The metal can sliced into two pieces that flew down the alley in opposite directions. Its lid slammed against the wall. The pieces made a horrific sound, the screeching sound echoing off the buildings, which intensified the effect.

  The frightened boys jumped and scattered down the side street.

  Torgo tried to get up and run, but fell awkwardly back to the ground.

  Tara rose from behind the trashcan and walked over to the boy.

  “You know, son, often if you act like you’re willing to take a challenge, a bully will back down, he will,” Tara said, in her best Gothman accent. “Let me see you now.” She held up his face and looked at the scratches that were starting to bleed. “It’ll be hard to explain how you got those while studying in school.” She smiled at the child.

  He smiled back cautiously. “How did you do that?” Torgo sputtered.

  “I’m not rightly sure. I threw a rock. I was trying to hit the boy that was pounding you. That trash can had to be rotted clear through.” Tara rolled her eyes and the young boy laughed. She hoped no one inspected the destroyed can too closely.

  His laughter stopped quickly as he looked past Tara toward the sidewalk.

  Tara turned and saw a man sitting on a motorcycle, watching. Blond curls fell to his shirt. His expression revealed none of his thoughts, and dark, penetrating gray eyes stared at her without blinking. His appearance was rugged…distracting…but more than that.

  He was captivating.

  The man shifted his attention to the boy, then looked at Tara again with a bit more interest.

  She returned the gaze with an equal amount of regard. She could tell by the size of the motorcycle he was straddling that he was fairly tall. He wore a dark plaid shirt with a brown leather jacket over it. It was unbuttoned and successfully displayed a broad, muscular chest. She noticed a crest embroidered on the sleeve of his jacket and the matching crest on his motorcycle.

  “They challenged me. What was I to do?” Torgo stood as tall as his young body would allow as he spoke to the man.

  “Back to school with you. We’ll talk about this later, we will.” The words were barely out of the man’s mouth before the boy took off running as fast as his legs would take him.

  Tara stood silently, continuing to watch the man’s eyes as they surveyed her. She assumed the boy was his son, and she would never allow herself to show interest in a married man, but his look possessed her and it was hard to look away. After so long, she was finally standing face to face with a Gothman warrior…a gorgeous one at that.

  “Who might you be, lass?” The man’s voice was softer now. He studied her, as if memorizing her features, or perhaps trying to remember where he might have seen her before.

  “I’m Reena’s niece. My name’s Tara.” Tara finally remembered to lower her eyes and quickly did so. For some reason, her heart pounded, and she felt her palms grow damp.

  “I haven’t seen you before, that’s for sure.”

  “I’ve just arrived and came into town with her today for the first time.”

  “I see. Well, Tara, Reena’s niece, I’ll be thanking you for breaking up the fight for my younger brother’s sake.”

  Tara returned her gaze to his before she could stop herself. Younger brother, not married?

  His expression didn’t change nor did he bother to say who he was. He also gave no indication if he thought it odd that a Gothman woman prevented a fight. He looked at her a minute longer and then drove down the street.

  Tara exhaled slowly, willing her heart to stop pounding as she walked to the sidewalk and stared after him. Had he said thank you for breaking up the fight? Had he seen her shoot the trashcan?

  Reena walked down the sidewalk toward Tara, the older woman’s attention moving from the departing man to her niece. “Well, child, don’t it figure, your first day in town, and you’ve the honor of meeting Lord Darius himself.” Reena sounded absolutely delighted.

  “That was Lord Darius?” Tara asked quietly as she stole another glance at the handsome man disappearing down the stone road.

  “Yes, my dear. What’d he say to you?” Reena handed the bags of yarn to Tara and started walking to the car. “Come now, tell an old lady everything. He hasn’t claimed anyone yet, although I daresay the rumors are that he’s been with each girl in this town, he has. Now he’s seen you, maybe that will change. Ha, it’s plain to see you are a mite prettier than any other girl this town has to offer.”

  “He said ‘thank you’.”

  Reena turned to Tara, a puzzled look on her face. “A bit strange, but then he always has been odd, he has.”

  The two reached the car, and Tara put the bags on the floor behind the two seats. Her mind raced. What should she do if the ruler of this land had seen her with a laser that was more sophisticated than any Gothman had ever created? He had to be the same man who instigated a search for a Runner on his land the night before, and she credited the man as intelligent.

  Eventually, he would put two and two together and uncover the identity of the Runner who had eluded the guards.

  Letting out a gasp, Tara realized her next move in this community had better be carefully thought out if she were to stay alive.

  Chapter Three

  “There were some children fighting in the alley. One of them was hurt and I was going to help the child when Lord Darius showed up and told the child to go back to school,” Tara explained as Reena drove through the remainder of downtown. “I didn’t know it was Lord Darius.”

  “Well, now you know who he is and he most certainly knows who you are, there’ll be no mistaking that.” Reena seemed quite pleased. “Imagine the lord, himself, taking a fancy to you. And I might add, I saw the way you were looking at him, I did.” She nudged Tara with her elbow and let out a low chuckle.

  “You act as you want me married, or claimed, as you call it.”

  “Well my dear, you can’t very well experience our culture as a female if you’re not claimed, that’s for certain. There’d be nothing else to do with you at your age but to show you off for a claiming.” Reena smiled at t
he young girl. “I’m an old lady, my dear. I daresay you’ve brought excitement to my life.”

  “I don’t want to be claimed.”

  “Ach, shh, you better keep thoughts like that to yourself, love. You’d be suspected as odd for sure if you say thoughts like that out loud.” Reena chuckled some more and glowed as she glanced at Tara.

  The two were silent as Reena drove slowly through the town.

  Tara looked out the window at the community, watching the people she saw on the streets. Young women worked in gardens with children running around them. The houses appeared clean and well kept, for the most part. She wondered at a lifestyle in which the people lived in a home all of their lives and raised children.

  This was all so new to her. She’d spent months in one location before, but there was always a sense of excitement when it was announced that her clan would be moving to a new location. She couldn’t imagine living in the same place all her life.

  The thought wasn’t too appealing.

  “I daresay this must all seem so strange to you.”

  Reena brought Tara back from her thoughts. “I was just imagining what it must be like to live in one spot all your life.”

  “You’ll probably never know that feeling, sweet child. You’re a Runner, you are. I can dress you like a Gothman and teach you how to act like a Gothman, but the Runner is in your blood. You must forgive an old lady. I’ve spent the morning going on about my niece come to stay with me. It’s a pleasant thought, and you’re quite the young lady to be showing off, you are. I guess I’d say I got a bit carried away. I wouldn’t know what to say if I weren’t talking about getting you claimed. That’s what we do with our young ladies, it is.”

  Reena had now driven through the town and was turning onto a paved road winding up a hill. Their next stop would be Lord Darius’ house.

  Tara wondered if he would be there. The man appeared strong, not only physically, but mentally as well. He ruled all of Gothman and hadn’t been the designated heir. He had taken the right to rule. Tara imagined he would be intelligent, manipulative, and shrewd in his methods.

  There were problems also. This man believed women didn’t have the intelligence to do anything but birth babies and raise them. He was not a fair man. And hadn’t she already determined that the warrior skills of his men were inferior to her own? Tara frowned as she chastised herself for her previous thoughts of finding him appealing. Obviously he had a lot to learn.

  The road ran past beautifully landscaped scenery. The grass on the ground was cut short and tall pine trees were scattered through the yard.

  As they approached the house, Tara was aware that Reena watched for her reaction. After all, Tara had grown up living in trailers, never having a piece of land to call her own. Reena would know that the Runners were proud of their nomadic existence, but Tara sensed that the home she was about to visit might alter her perspective.

  She was right. Perfectly nestled among the foliage, a large stone house stood proudly before them. A wide front porch wrapped around both sides of the front of the house. Porch swings hung on each end, and sharply carved stone stairs led down to a pebbled walkway that traveled out to greet the road. The house itself was several stories high with a large veranda off the third floor.

  Tara studied the vantage point offered by the veranda, guessing that it enabled soldiers to survey the land and ensure its safety. Standing watch on that ledge was probably considered a significant achievement for Gothman warriors.

  The two men on guard duty in the front yard walked to the car, and Reena slowed to a stop. “My apple pie as promised.” She smiled to the large man leaning over, peering through the car window. Tara remembered seeing him at Reena’s cabin the previous night. He had been one of the men looking for her.

  “Who do you have here?” The man tossed a toothless smile at Tara. “I daresay his lordship will like this a mite bit more than your apple pie, he will.”

  “She is my niece,” Reena said coolly. “Will you announce us or are you going to stand there with your jaw hanging?”

  “How you’ve lived to be an old lady with that mouth of yours is a mystery to me.” The man snarled and stood up to speak into his walkntalk.

  * * * * *

  Reena knew how she’d lived to be an old lady. She was protected. Her one and only love had seen to that. She wasn’t sure if Lord Darius knew the history behind why his papa had declared her unavailable for a claim. He’d upheld his papa’s wishes though, and for that she was grateful.

  She looked at the beautiful young woman sitting next to her in the car, whose sapphire eyes made her appear too wise for her winters. Tara was watching the guard speak to the lord through his walkntalk. Reena wondered if Tara had ever seen the Gothman communication device before. This was a young lady who digested and analyzed everything she saw, and Reena could see qualities of a natural-born leader in Tara. All the Gothman attire in Nuworld wouldn’t hide that quality in the lass.

  Reena knew Lord Darius would claim Tara instantly. In fact, he might already have done so. A man didn’t always tell a woman immediately after he claimed her. She would find out soon enough. Tara would fight it, but Reena knew it had to happen. They were meant to be together. Tara could help Lord Darius realize his potential.

  * * * * *

  Tara struggled to hear what the guard said into his walkntalk, wondering to whom he might be speaking, but the car motor made it impossible to hear. She watched with fascination as the man held the black box to his mouth, and his thumb moved to press a button on the side when he spoke.

  A minute or two passed before the man returned to the car window. “Pull your car over to the side, Reena.” The guard pointed to an area off to the left.

  “Of all things I know where to park, I do.” Reena waved the guard away and drove her car to the side of the house.

  “Grab the basket out of the backseat, child,” Reena instructed Tara as she stared toward the grand house. “You ever seen anything so magnificent?”

  Tara reached for the basket then turned. “It looks so permanent.”

  The front door opened and a lady about the same age as Reena walked out onto the front porch. “Reena, I’ll be, it’s so good to see you again, my friend.” The woman reached out and hugged Reena. “I daresay it takes the scare of a Runner intruder to bring you to my doors these days. What to think, I wonder.”

  “I stay quite busy with the way this town is populating itself,” Reena said, and the two women laughed out loud.

  “Ah, so here she is.” The woman took Tara’s chin in her hand and turned the girl’s head from side to side. She glanced sideways at Reena and then wrinkled her brow. “She’s the spitting image of you at her age, she is. And she’s your niece, you say? Well now, you’re definitely related, that much is true.”

  Tara smiled politely and glanced at Reena. She thought she saw a worried look on the old woman’s face.

  “I’m Hilda Bryton.”

  The lady either didn’t notice the look on Reena’s face or didn’t pay attention to it. She was a large woman, taller than Reena. She wore a long loose frock flowing below her knees. Her silver-gray hair wrapped in a bun behind her head.

  Tara pictured Hilda raising Darius and the young boy from the alley. She wondered how much influence the Gothman woman had in their upbringing, or had their papa controlled the way in which they were raised?

  “My Lady,” Tara said quietly with her eyes lowered as she offered a slight curtsy.

  “I’m sure you know how the gossip flies through this town. I had heard she was quite the beauty, but the words do her no justice, that’s for certain. You’ll be mighty proud of this one, won’t you?” Hilda patted Reena’s arm.

  “I hadn’t seen her, myself, since she was a baby. Until this night past, of course. She’s the beauty, she is.”

  “Ah, my manners, to entertain you on my porch, I am sure.” Hilda laughed and opened the front door wide. “Please, do come in for a visit. Reena, when h
ave we last sat and had a good talk of the goings on, I’m sure I don’t remember.”

  Tara followed the two old women into the house. She gasped as they entered the foyer and caught her first glance at the magnificent home. At that moment, she figured if someone were looking for a Runner in disguise they would have immediately suspected her because she couldn’t get over the vastness of this dwelling. Never before had she been inside such a structure. The most shelter she’d had from the elements throughout her life was the trailers Runners lived in while with their clan.

  Tara wanted to run her hands along the walls. They had to be solid. This house had been built to stay right here on this land, never moving. Runners moved when the weather changed, when trade agreements improved in a different area, or when news of a dispute or challenge in another area came forth.

  But not the people of Gothman.

  They ignored Nuworld and focused only on themselves. And this house would be an excellent place to ignore the outside world. The arched ceilings allowed for a wide curving stairway to show all of its glory as it climbed in front of them to a second floor. Tara remembered seeing windows outside indicating more rooms on a third floor. She wondered where another staircase might be.

  The hallway above could be seen from downstairs. Dark mahogany doors along the second floor hallway left Tara to imagine what might be on the other side of them. As they left the entryway and walked through two glass doors, Tara found herself in a large room with glossy wooden floors and a large area rug so thick she could feel her feet sink in it through the thin cotton material of her shoes.

  This living room was as large as her entire trailer.

  Beautifully carved wooden chairs had forest green cushions resting on them. There was a long sofa made out of the same dark green material. The wood on the tables on either side of the couch, as well as the oval one in front of it, were polished to the point that Tara could see her reflection in them. She almost did a double take at the strange-looking woman staring back. It wasn’t often she gazed at her own reflection, let alone without her headscarf.

 

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