by Susan Grant
The crowd went wild at the sight of the new royal family. Tao had heard cheers and applause on the day of his homecoming, but it hadn’t come close to the thunderous approval greeting the new king. Today, the Kurel were clapping, too.
“MAX! MAXIM.” AZA SHOOK her head in exasperation, exchanged a suffering glance with Elsabeth and went after her young son, who had run off with his sister to chase float flies, leaving the adults who’d gathered to eat a post-coronation brunch.
Laughing, Elsabeth followed. Markam and Tao strolled out after them, for the day was fine and everyone was in high spirits.
“Max,” Aza scolded, her walk more of a waddle as her birthing time neared. “Just because you’re king doesn’t mean you can run off whenever you please.”
“But I want to see inside it!” Max climbed up on a chair and took hold of the rim of the Seeing Bowl, its radius too large for the breadth of his skinny arms to encircle.
The adults grew quiet as the child rose up on his toes and peered into the water. For long moments, he was utterly still, unusual enough for a three-year-old boy, but when he looked up at the sky as if to confirm what he’d seen wasn’t a reflection from above, Elsabeth knew they were witnessing something astonishing.
Max turned and waved to his sister. “Sofia, come see, too.”
With the aid of her brother’s hand, the beautiful little girl climbed up to share the chair. And squealed. “I see you, Max!”
Aza caught Markam’s arm, and he drew her close. Tao wrapped Elsabeth in his arms as he watched over her shoulder.
“And ships!” Max exclaimed. “Look at them all.”
Sofia was nodding. “So pretty…”
Then the pair jumped down.
“What did you see?” Aza asked the question that they all seemed to share.
“Stuff.” Max swatted at a float fly drifting close, and scampered off with his sister to chase them.
Aza’s brow went up, her lips pursing. “Stuff?”
Markam commented, “Clearly Max saw himself, so he’s the rightful ruler, but ships…”
“‘Pretty’ ships,” Aza put in with a mother’s baffled shrug.
Tao stepped to the side of the bowl, keeping his hand on Elsabeth’s back. “I’ve seen the ships of the Scourge. I wouldn’t consider them pretty. Though, a few of the vessels were exceptionally well crafted.”
“Ships could mean a number of things,” Elsabeth said, and the three full-blooded Tassagons turned to her. “Anything. From pirate craft to star craft. Arks.”
“Or it was just a reflection of a flock of birds flying over,” Aza suggested hopefully.
But unease had taken hold. Ships, what did it mean? Pretty ships.
Elsabeth wished she hadn’t mentioned arks. She hadn’t intended to trouble them on the one day that was supposed to be free of trouble. “You know my imagination,” she said with a laugh.
“A vision of our future nonetheless,” Tao affirmed, his thoughtful gaze lingering on the Seeing Bowl.
They left the relic behind to return to the reception. Tao stopped her with a hand on her shoulder, his breath caressing her ear. “By the way, your imagination is one of the best things about you.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
THEY WAITED UNTIL springtime to marry, when Tao knew the sky above the vineyards would be scattered with fat white clouds resembling sheep, and the freshly sheared grass under his boots would be deeply fragrant. The hills surrounding his family’s estate were the shade of green that could bring a tear to a man’s eyes, especially a warrior who’d spent a good deal of his life never knowing if he’d see these lands again.
When he leaned close to kiss his bride and seal their vows, and her loveliness stole his breath, he knew deep in his soul that this was the day he’d held in his heart all those wretched nights in the Hinterlands, when such dreams were the only thing that had kept him sane.
Later, with family and friends putting a dent in the massive amount of good wine and simple country food set out for their enjoyment, and with the lusty wails of Aza’s baby, a new prince, carrying over the more muted sounds of happiness, Tao took Elsabeth by the hand and led her up a small hill overlooking the grassroofed stone house where they planned to raise their own family. In the adjacent meadow, his warhorse, Chiron, grazed.
“I don’t think he minds his retirement any more than you do, Tao,” Elsabeth said, her blue eyes shimmering as she gazed out over their lands.
Turning to her, he took her hands in both of his. “I told you once that my aim was to find a compatible female using the same logical, carefully considered methods with which I conducted my military campaigns. Emotion would play no part in it. Remember?”
Surprise flickered in her eyes at the topic. “You said marriage was based on deliberate effort, not true love.”
“That’s correct. To which you replied you hoped someday I’d find a woman who’d love me so powerfully, so completely, that she’d prove every silly belief I had about love completely wrong.” Tenderly, he brushed his knuckles across his wife’s cheek. “I did,” he said, and dipped his head to kiss her smiling lips.
ISBN: 978-1-4592-0158-3
THE LAST WARRIOR
Copyright © 2011 by Susan Grant
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