The Last Warrior Read Free Page A

about his flashy return changed her mind.
    With the bag of books snug against her hip, she walked briskly out the ghetto gates and into the crowded streets of the capital.
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    A DORING CITIZENS LINED the road as far as Tao could see. The faces and voices extended in all directions, filling and overflowing the main square. A band of minstrels cavorted alongside him, singing ballads in his honor. Tao waved, soaking in the moment: the spontaneous celebrations, the music, the flowers and confetti flying, all under a sky empty of burning arrows and smoke.
    A world finally without war.
    A flower sailed up to him, thrown from a group of pretty women. He caught it and stuck the stem in his armor, causing them to shriek with glee. One tried to climb up to Tao’s lap to kiss him. He laughed, making sure she landed safely back on the road. Her eyes were shining, her cheeks flushed, as if his mere touch were magic.
    â€œIt is safe to say you have reached god status, my friend,” Markam said, grinning. Tao followed the sweep of his friend’s hand across the throngs lining the road for the celebration of his victorious return. “Why, today even Uhrth himself would stand and offer you his chair.”
    Tao snorted. “Blasphemy!”
    â€œThe truth! Look at them. They worship you.”
    â€œThey’re celebrating our victory.”
    â€œYour victory, Tao. You’re the most successful military commander of all time, a hero of mythical proportions.”
    â€œMythical,” Tao spat. “Ask my ass if it feels mythical after weeks spent in a saddle.”
    â€œThey love you, Tao, and not their king. Just say the word, and the Tassagonian throne is yours.”
    The throne? Tao looked at Markam askance. The conversation had pitched off course as abruptly and perilously as a wagon with a broken wheel. “Your mouth is moving, but only nonsense is coming out of it.”
    â€œAre you sure of that? You have what Xim doesn’t—the people’s love and the army’s respect. Two keys to lasting power.”
    â€œLegitimacy being the other key—the missing key.” The implication that he’d use the momentum of victory to launch a coup was disquieting. Tao couldn’t overlook the fact that Markam was Xim’s chief adviser for palace security. To remain in such a position took Xim’s trust—a slippery fish of a thing, Tao imagined—but it wasn’t inconceivable that Xim had put Markam up to seeing what Tao’s intentions were. “I can’t tell if this is a joke, a test or a warning.”
    â€œPerhaps,” Markam said, “it is a little of each.”
    A prickle of unease crawled down Tao’s neck. He might not care much for politics, but he recognized itsdangers. Tread carefully. Everything he said could go right back to the king. “No one need gauge my ambition. Once I’ve had my fill of feasts and parties, I’m stepping out of the public eye for good.”
    Tao conjured a favorite, infinitely pleasant dream of tending the ancient vines on his family’s estate in the hills, and the simple satisfaction of adding his own vintage to the rows of dusty bottles in the wine cellar, a task he couldn’t wait to steal from the hands of estate caretakers. He would grow old with his family around him. It was the kind of life his military father and grandfather had dreamed of but never lived long enough to realize. A life no one seemed to believe he desired. “I’ll retire as soon as the king grants me permission.”
    â€œGeneral Uhr-Tao—retiree? At twenty-eight? ” Markam threw back his head and laughed.
    â€œMy officers had the same reaction. I’ll remind you as I did them that a soldier’s life ends in only two ways. Retirement is a far better fate than the alternative.”
    â€œDon’t be so sure. Retirement requires a wife. If that’s not life-ending, I don’t know what