Warrior of the Ages (Warriors of the Ages) (16 page)

Kahtar’s heart sank into the pit of his stomach and a hundred curses flitted through his mind. The phrase ‘sick and tired’ did not even begin to cover how he felt about Covenant Keepers falling in love with Seekers.

Unable to hold The Mother’s eyes, Allis’s head dropped into his hands, the pain in his heart shared by his entire clan. It was huge, and familiar to Kahtar, he had sensed it many times before. So many men succumbed to women forbidden to them. Without looking at the faces of the other warriors in the room Kahtar knew that half were sympathetic. They understood. The other half were furious that Allis would risk exposing them all. Kahtar knew without looking, because that was always the way.

Perhaps The Mother understood Allis’s dilemma, perhaps not. She never elaborated or explained. She obeyed the way and her words were firm.

“You have no choice, Allis. If you do not give your word you will both go into The Mists together. She cannot be part of our world. If you cannot leave her be, that will be her fate.”

“Denise is not well, she would die there.”

Kahtar wanted to groan, to shout at Allis that he had known the woman less than two weeks! How could he give up everything for a woman confined to a hospital bed? How did he even know her well enough to love her?

The Mother replied calmly. “Likely you would both die, Allis. It is not an easy life and eventually you would cross paths with a clan much less understanding than ours. How many laws would you break by then?”

Allis cried as he gave his word. The Mother looked up at Kahtar. They both knew Allis had to leave. Despite the strength of his honor, he was still only a man. They could all feel his shaky resolve as the touch of his aching heart brushed their own. Kahtar went to his side and squeezed the warrior’s shoulder, trying to impart strength.

“Land or sea, Allis?”

Not even bothering to look up, his shoulders heaving in silent sobs, Allis struggled to answer.

“It doesn’t matter. Send me where I’m needed most.”

“The Middle East then. You will be missed.”

The Mother leaned towards him and put a hand under his chin forcing his head up. Tears were running down his cheeks, dripping onto his police uniform. For a moment she leaned her forehead against Allis’s and she whispered to him in a voice so low that Kahtar barely heard it.

“Don’t be ashamed for feeling, Allis. Be ashamed for acting when it was forbidden. I love you.” She kissed his lips, lingering, a farewell gesture and Allis wrapped both his arms around her and held on for a long time.

When Allis finally rose, Kahtar put an arm around his shoulders and led him away. As they traversed the path out of the cave he wanted to tell Allis that time would heal his pain, but he couldn’t. Kahtar had no idea if that was true. He’d never loved a woman like a wife. He felt sorry for Allis, but thankful no one had to die, thankful that the Old Guard had stopped the warrior before he’d betrayed his entire clan and joined with a Seeker.

BETH’S CELL BUZZED with a text and she opened her eyes and dug it out of her bag to look, 11:54 a.m. and the incoming text didn’t identify the sender. She dropped the phone back in the bag and rolled out of bed. Crossing to the bedroom window, she tried to force it open wider. What she wouldn’t give for air-conditioning, or electricity to run a fan for that matter. At least she finally had gas hooked up, so while a hot bath was a possibility it didn’t even appeal, it was disgustingly humid. The pretty silk sheers she’d hung over the window had no breeze to billow in, but she plunked back on the bed appreciating that shade of blue next to the peeling old flowered wallpaper.

Digging in her purse Beth pulled out the cell, realized it was the wrong one, and rooted another moment for the right one. She figured if the cops were going to steal phones from her, she’d save time and she’d bought two. Going without electricity was one thing, going without a phone another entirely. Her tunes were on here. Officer A. Drake would hear about his thievery next time she saw him. It wasn’t really even the phone. Dang it, he’d taken her best music. She wondered why the hijacked iTunes account and her missing gadget seemed more personal than her vanishing money.

Nobody messes with my car or my phone. We all have our lines in the sand.

This phone was an upgrade, so after fiddling with it for a half hour, Beth found herself almost forgiving the theft. Then she realized the incoming text had been from her Dad.

Dang! I lost my contact list. A. Drake is a jerk!

There were four messages from Dad. He wanted her to come for dinner after church on Sunday. Mom didn’t text. She hated technology of any kind. Beth replied, telling Dad she’d be there, and that she loved them both.

At one in the afternoon Beth still sat in the baggy concert t-shirt she slept in, paying for and downloading songs that she already owned. Except iTunes had inexplicably locked her account, and she couldn’t go without music. She hauled herself off the bed to cross the room. Dropping her purse over her desk chair, she plunked into the chair to fiddle with her laptop. It took a full minute to get a satellite connection so she could confirm deliveries of incoming goods for that afternoon, and the battery sat at half power already.

The day looked to be shaping up nicely, coconut oil and fresh spices would be on time. Then she clicked on her international bank account, the balance now stood at zero. She slammed the lid down and crossed the room to her closet. Rooting for a lightweight dress, she wondered why she wasn’t afraid. There had been times in the past when people had frightened her, intimidated her, she was hardly without fear.

It’s because they’re not bad.
Even if they steal? When do good people steal?
I don’t know, but it’s a good thing I transferred half the money out of that account yesterday.

WITH THE HELP of Old Guard, Kahtar reappeared in the alley behind the police station. He took a few minutes to compose himself, disoriented from the trial at the cave and escorting Allis away. The Drakes would be bereft, Kahtar dreaded when Consider found out what his brother had done. Scanning into the police station he debated what his story would be for his disappearance. The investigators were still inside, still drinking coffee. Intestinal trouble seemed like the best excuse. After all, he hadn’t been gone that long.. As soon as his hand reached for the back door he felt the familiar pressure on his upper arm as an Old Guard grabbed him again, and the door vanished.

Instantly Kahtar reappeared on a highway on the west side of town. Before his eyes even adjusted to the change in venue or he scanned, he knew why he was there. He felt it.

The death of one of his own bore down on him. The weight of the hearts of his surviving kinsmen told him before his eyes or scan found Consider Drake and Squire Tupper. Consider would never know the fate of his brother Allis, because Consider Drake and Squire Tupper were both dead.

Kahtar wondered why, after all his years, the deaths of those he loved still burned as intensely as it ever had. Shouldn’t time have dulled it? Shouldn’t all the death he’d known have made him calloused? It hadn’t. It cut through him like a blade. Consider lay in the middle of the asphalt roadway, recognizable only by his stocky build and hairy arms, his head no longer recognizable as human. Most of it splattered across the road in an obscene arc, a macabre rainbow of blood, flesh and bone. Moving forward, unable to feel his feet, Kahtar assessed the situation dutifully. Reading the evidence like a story, he tried to reenact the crime like Consider and Squire had always done.

Consider had stopped a vehicle, had opened the door of his squad car and stepped out of the driver’s door. The door still stood open, and Consider’s electronic notepad lay next to the car. Two bullets had been stopped by his vest, but they had laid him flat, long enough for the assassin to approach and shoot him point blank in the head. Kahtar could sense bullets lodged in the asphalt road. Squire’s body still sat in the passenger seat, slumped against his seatbelt. He’d taken a single bullet through his right temple, fired through the windshield of the car. His head was turned towards his partner, a look of horror on his face. Kahtar pushed away the fact that Squire had seen his partner shot and turned his mind back to the facts of what had happened. There had surely been two assassins. Caught by surprise Consider never had time to sound a battle cry. Squire’s horror had slowed him only seconds before death took him too.

If Consider and Squire were still alive they would have pieced together more details, but their giftings were gone forever, with them.

A warrior moved forward to meet Kahtar, his voice cracked.

“We were on a loop, three cars five minutes apart. Honor and Willet had driven past here right before it happened.”

“Why?”

“Chief?”

Kahtar looked towards the thin warrior with the pale face, s
o young,
his hands were shaking and he was trying not to look at the bodies of his friends. Francis Snickerbacher, the name floated into Kahtar’s mind, new to the force, fresh from the Arc and unused to life among Seekers.
Unused to sudden death from a gun.

“Why did Honor and Willet drive past here? They were to be shadowing the Orphan.”

“Yes, Chief, they were, and Ansel and I were following behind them to take the next shift, but we came upon—this…” Francis’s voice trailed off and he motioned towards the murder scene of two of the most talented Warriors of ilu that Cultuelle Khristos could boast.

“This took place in the space of five minutes.” The young warrior’s voice shook.

Kahtar gripped the man’s shoulder. It felt slight.

“Notify Honor and Willet of the deaths. Beth White will have the evening free of us. The entire clan will meet at the cave tonight to grieve our loss.”

THERE WAS NO difficulty in tending to the remains of Consider and Squire, in twenty minutes almost no sign of the shooting remained. The two best friends rested on limestone slabs in the cool humidity of the cave, with only their grieving families at their sides, until nightfall, when the entire clan would gather with them for the last time.

There was no difficulty in giving orders, and issuing commands to secure the village as best could be done, before all gathered for the Gloria Tribute. There was no difficulty in temporarily shoving aside the emptiness that two of his best had left in their wake. There was no difficulty in shoving aside the heaviness of knowing he had failed them, it was neither the first nor last time he would fail. It was not the worst failure. It was another failure in millennia of failure.