All For One [Nuworld 3] (6 page)

“He’s standing right in front of me.”

“I look forward to hearing of your adventure…if you live long enough to tell me of

it.” When Andru spoke with authority, he sounded dangerously like their papa. “Come

home now.”

Ana laughed and Roth gave her a questioning smile. “You worry like a woman. But

I’m in your debt, and I’ll leave now.”

Ana turned off her comm, and looked at Roth. “I have to go now.”

“Is there a problem?” Roth sounded sincerely curious.

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“Only that no one but my brother knows my true whereabouts,” Ana admitted,

suddenly feeling like a very young girl in front of this handsome man.

“Ah, I see. You have a brother who will lie to protect you. And you, most likely,

would defend him to the death.” Roth nodded understandingly.

“You are right. I wish I could stay and share stories of our people and hear those of

your people.” Ana glanced at her glider parked by his guards.

Roth waved a hand and immediately one of the men grabbed the handles and

guided it to where Ana stood.

“I’d like that, to share stories, that is. Will you come back?” Roth took another step

toward her so that he was a few feet in front of her, towering over her.

“Would you like me to?” She looked up with what she hoped for some strange

reason was a rather passive look. She couldn’t explain how she felt to herself, but she

very much wanted to see Roth again.

“I would, but could I make one request?”

She looked at him without responding and then froze as slowly he raised his hand

toward her face.

“Why do you wear this?” His fingers brushed her headscarf and her skin tingled

under the material where he had touched her. He flirted with her, she knew it, but her

body had never reacted like this before.

“It is a Runner headscarf. It protects in battle and is part of our heritage.” She

looked down at his chest, focusing on the fuzzy dark red hair that teased her from the

collar of his smock.

“But you didn’t wear it the other day.”

“My blood is also Gothman.”

“And Gothman women don’t wear this cloth over their heads?” he asked.

“Gothman women do what they’re told to do,” Ana muttered with more disgust in

her voice than she’d planned. When Roth literally laughed out loud, she looked up in

amazement.

“And you don’t like to be told what to do, am I right?” He smiled down at her and

the intensity of those piercing green eyes overwhelmed her.

“I must go.” She turned from him quickly, wondering if he’d just made fun of her,

and quickly jumped on her glider.

“Meet me here tomorrow. I promise—no nets.” She looked up and realized he’d

moved with her and now stood by her glider. “And if I may humbly request, tomorrow

don’t wear the scarf.”

She wasn’t sure what compelled her. In fact, later, as she shared her adventure with

Andru, she was embarrassed to tell him what she did next. But as she looked up into

those beautiful emerald eyes, she pulled off her headscarf and handed it to Roth. He

accepted it without a word and smiled gently as he studied her face.

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“You are beautiful.”

She heard him whisper the words and they vibrated through her as she quickly

flew away from the mountain and toward her home.

* * * * *

Ana had devised a very good version of the truth that she would share with her

parents when the inevitable occurred. She made excellent time with the wind behind

her, aiding her speed. Once again, she didn’t seem to notice her beloved homeland as

she gracefully flew over its curves.

This time it wasn’t the taste of adventure that distracted her. Incredible green eyes

caressed her insides and whispers of praise distracted her. A warm sensation, similar to

the one she’d experienced when she and Andru obtained a bottle of Gothman wine one

time, crept over her body. Roth of the Barringswood tribe so completely absorbed her

thoughts that she hardly noticed the small camp until she was nearly on top of it.

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Chapter Four

Darius and Tara flew away from the small group of white tents where the Tree

People had set up camp. The two leaders were surrounded by six of their men, three

Gothman and three Runner guards. Lord Darius wore the brown leather of the

Gothman warrior, with a purple sash crossed over his broad iron chest. His expression

appeared alert, yet calm. Tara rode next to him and although she chanced a glance at

him as they pulled slowly away from the heir to the Barringswood tribe, he didn’t

return her look.

Jolee flew on her glider following Tara, and Geeves followed Darius. They’d agreed

to each bring their first assistants so discussion, when they returned, would be easier.

Tara desperately wanted to talk to Darius or Jolee about the Tree People. They flew too

slowly for her taste and she felt frustration grow with their ceremonial pace. She

wanted to get home so they could share their feelings and reactions to this strange, new

race.

Sorg of the Barringswood tribe had been civil. In fact, he’d welcomed them into his

humble camp as royalty. Jeth had escorted Darius and Tara, with their assistants

following, into a large white tent. Inside, they’d been offered large pillows to sit upon

and servants appeared to offer sweet-tasting wine and plates full of a variety of nuts,

and fruit similar to apples. Sorg sat at the end of the tent on a gloriously adorned

pillow. He’d stood as they entered and although tall, he was not the muscular giant that

Darius was.

The conversation had been polite and formal. Sorg told them they’d been aware of

Gothman for many winters now but hadn’t possessed the technology to reach them

until after their battle with the Lunians. Oh yes, they’d encountered the Lunians—in

fact, lost a fair number of their people to them. He shared that the war with the Lunians

went on for several winters. They’d worn them down, though.

The Tree People believed that since the Lunians had no sense of military strategies,

having had no reason to develop them while living on the moon, they fought only out

of desperation and not for the glory of victory. Sorg announced no victory could ever be

obtained if warriors weren’t trained to fight together and die for each other if needed.

The Lunians fought as many individuals and not as a nation.

Tara noticed Darius nod silently in agreement with Sorg’s words. And why

wouldn’t he? Sorg just described the basic belief of all Gothman. They were warriors

who were part of a whole.

Sorg eventually turned his attention to Tara, giving praise to the stories he’d heard

of her great warrior abilities. One of the few facts he knew of the Runner race was how

their leader defeated many great warriors in the Test of Wills.

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“I can only imagine how you obtained such information,” Tara said politely,

although she felt guarded toward this man and couldn’t say why.

Crator, shouldn’t I introduce You to as many races as possible? Her question went

unanswered as all of her questions to Crator had through the winters since the Lunian

invasion. Once, the dog-woman, a messenger from Crator, spoke to her through visions.

That had been a time of war, a time of survival and a time of growth. There had been no

confrontations since then. The River People and the Cave People swore their allegiance

to the Runners and Gothman. The Neurians in Southland had little association with

them, although no disputes had risen from that part of the world.

Gothman and Runners were incredible warriors, with a confirmed reputation of

being undefeatable. The Neurian’s technology was beyond comprehension to most

other races. Over the winters, Runners had obtained information from Neurian sites.

However, over recent winters, the Neurians had upgraded their security making it

almost impossible to link into their technology without risking serious damage to

programs. Their traps were so sneaky even Torgo had become leery of linking with

them.

Then, of course, there was the Neurian oil. Darius would not hear of begging for

trade rights. And ever since their war with the Lunians and Tara’s sister’s untimely

death, there had been little to no contact with the Neurians.

That time period was the beginning of The Waiting. The dog-woman had instigated

the beginning of the period. Tara and Darius didn’t know what they were waiting for.

And as the winters passed, thirteen of them to be exact, they had given less thought to

the matter. However, as Tara sat wondering how this Tree Person had obtained

information on them, she couldn’t help but wonder if this was some kind of sign, an

indication, that The Waiting was nearing its end.

“Have you met some of our people before?” she asked, as she shoved her worries to

the side for the moment.

Sorg looked at her. His dark red hair showed faint streaks of white and there were

more streaks in his thick beard. His forest green eyes penetrated hers and she felt them

pulling at her. Instinctively, she looked down at his hands, folded politely on his lap.

They looked callused and rough as if he’d spent his life working with them.

“If I have met any of your people I didn’t know it.” He seemed to choose his words

carefully. “Our intention is to do that during our visit with you. I’m not sure where the

stories of your greatness originated in our society. The elders tell the stories of their

great battles. Stories of battles with the Lunians still take precedence. Those warriors

seem to know that the Lunians came to us after being chased out of your nation. I was

much younger when those battles occurred.”

He paused and rubbed his forehead then squinted at her. She frowned and looked

again at his eyes. Their intensity seemed to grow the longer she stared into them.

“Did you fight against the Lunians?” Darius asked.

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“Yes, I was part of those battles but I was barely twenty fallings old.” He continued

to stare at Tara although he answered Darius’ question easily enough.