Markam wanted her to help keep General Tao safe. Of all the Tassagons, he understood most what this promise would cost her. Inside these walls, the chief of the Palace Guard knew everyone’s strengths and weaknesses. He had to. His life depended on it.
As now did so many others in the palace.
A glove belonging to Aza lay on a table. Elsabeth picked it up, savoring its softness between her thumb and index finger. Thick, sumptuous satin, such luxurious fabric was never seen in the ghetto. It held the woman’s perfume, a whiff of fresh flowers. In the palace, the queen’s presence was colorful and unexpected, like a beautiful, fragile flower poking up between the cold, hard slabs of a fortress.
Elsabeth turned Aza’s glove over and over in her hands, then crushed it to her chest. “Damn it, Markam, if I’m caught doing anything that appears to protect Uhr-Tao, if he suspects anything, Xim will blame Aza. He’ll say she put me up to it, and he’ll—”
“I know,” Markam cut in bleakly, and with real pain. If he thought his unrequited love for Aza was a secret, he was a fool. He ran a finger along the inside of his collar. Beads of perspiration glittered on his furrowed brow as he regarded her. It was warm in the palace, but not that warm. He was nervous, a condition unprecedented for him that she could recall. “Can I count on you, Elsabeth? Will you put aside personal feelings about the general and stand ready to help if necessary, for all the reasons we’ve pledged ourselves to?”
To keep the darkness at bay…
She wiped suddenly cold hands on her skirt. “Yes. You can count on me.”
A quick nod, a squeeze of her arm, and Markam strode away to complete more secret meetings with other collaborators, all of them treasonous by definition, and all of them at risk of discovery and capture with General Uhr-Tao’s unexpected, utterly complicating return.
CHAPTER THREE
“UHR-TAO, UHR-TAO…”
The cheering was thunderous as the army entered Palace Square. Tao looked up in reverence. He could see this sight every day and never tire of it. The palace was a visual masterpiece, a fantastical creation built in much darker times, perhaps as a testament to the power of hope, or a way to show the Gorr that it wasn’t as easy as they might think to kill the human spirit. Balconies festooned in carved stone ringed the lowest floors, the entire building narrowing to four towers where blue-and-white flags of the kingdom fluttered. Underneath, invisible to all, was an elaborate system of drainage pipes, many wider than a man was tall, to divert the deluge from the yearly monsoon. They emptied into the vast expanse of the moat, home to a pod of voracious, deadly tassagators, reptilian water creatures native to this world. The moat was the palace’s best defense against Furs and humans alike. If a human were to actually survive a tassagator attack, the venom would kill, slowly and excruciatingly. There was no known antidote. No need for one, really. Anyone who fell in the moat was presumed eaten for dinner.
Before he’d been taken to train as an Uhr-warrior at age twelve, he, Markam and even Aza would explore the pipes on dares as children. They’d toss stones and the occasional dead rodent into the moat to attract the terrifying interest of the gators, then run, shrieking, into the deeper safety of the pipes. The humid and slightly sour air arising from the waters sparked memories of those carefree days.
My past, my present and my future, all meeting here and now.
He raised his hand to halt the army. As the men spent long moments soaking in their deserved acclaim, the royal family and various dignitaries awaited him across the drawbridge spanning the moat.
He let out a soft laugh of joy when he recognized his sister, her slender frame swollen with child, her bright gaze longing and urgent. Aza. A dazzling smile lit up her face when their eyes met, hers the vivid pure green of their mother’s in contrast to his, the more hazel green of their father’s.
Tao’s combat-hardened heart softened at the sight of her. Too few moments in recent years had been spent together. That was about to change.
He dismounted and stroked a hand down Chiron’s muscular neck. The great horse dipped his head, blowing softly. “Being put out to pasture won’t be so bad, Chi,” he told the beast. “You’ll see.”
He handed the reins to an aide. His armor was removed by his master-at-arms, Pirelli, his helmet given to yet another officer, his second-in-command, Mandalay.
“Sir, it’s been an honor,” Mandalay said, emotion in his eyes.
Tao glanced from Mandalay to a clearly moved Pirelli. “The honor’s mine, gentlemen.”
With emotion of his own swelling in his chest, he squared his shoulders. Standing tall, he strode across the drawbridge to the palace steps where the blessing ceremony would take place.
Although Aza smiled with love and pride and was as lovely as ever, up close he saw details he hadn’t expected. Too-pale skin, lines where there hadn’t been any before, tired shadows under her eyes. Where was the carefree girl he remembered? Palace life seemed to have sucked the spirit out of her as thoroughly as a Gorrish bloodsucker emptied a corpse. Two small children and another on the way—clearly his sister was exhausted. He imagined Xim was not an easy man to live with.
But it was Aza’s duty to do so. Their family had always served the royals, from supplying commanders to lead their armies to providing beautiful wives for their princes.
Tao sought his brother-in-law’s eyes and nodded. Pouting, as Markam had predicted, the man looked as though he’d swallowed a melon before finally acknowledging Tao with a reluctant lift of his brows.
Look within my soul, Xim, and you will see I have no interest in your throne.
As Tao approached the waiting priests, he tried to clear his mind of doubts, of hostile Kurel, weary sisters and impetuous kings, for he wanted to remember this moment for what it was. With all resentment purged from his heart and only the humility of a servant of the realm, he plunged to one knee.
The crowds grew hushed in anticipation. The hot breeze felt cool as it ruffled his hair. The picture of deference, he lowered his head in anticipation of Uhrth’s blessing.
A priest sang as he dribbled holy water over Tao’s head and neck. Liquid spattered and pooled like gemstones on the marble, a fitting nod to Uhrth’s angels.
Born on their watery world beyond the sky, they journeyed across the mystical ocean of stars in great arks to the chosen lands of Tassagonia, thriving until the arrival of Gorr invaders. The two sides fought to near-extinction, until all the arks were destroyed on both sides, stranding the two enemies on Tassagonia forevermore.
They’d been fighting ever since.
Each shivering droplet reflected the sky. The holy water used in the ceremony came from the only artifact to survive from the days of the Old Colony: the Seeing Bowl. It was said that within its waters the rightful ruler of Tassagonia could be viewed and the future revealed. Tao couldn’t help but wonder what Xim saw when he stared into its depths.
“I DON’T KNOW WHAT to do, Elsabeth.” The queen was pacing nervously after returning to her private apartments to change clothing for the banquet. Several handmaidens waited in her chambers next door for her to return, but she’d sought out Elsabeth in the adjacent nursery classroom as soon as the blessing was over.
The room was darkened with thick curtains, the children playing with their toys as naptime approached. “Xim is so jealous of Tao,” Aza said. “He’s always been. Since they were boys. Tao was always stronger, better at everything, but my brother is Uhr-born and bred, you see. Born to do battle.” She swallowed hard, whispering, “Born to die for us, Elsabeth. But Xim, he was born for another path. Only, he’s never been able to value what qualities are his alone.”
“Hush, now. Sit.” Elsabeth helped Aza onto