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Authors: Elizabeth Vaughan

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Dagger-Star

Star Book 01

Elizabeth Vaughan

Praise for Elizabeth Vaughan’s

Chronicles of the Warlands
WARLORD

“A superb climax to an excellent saga…Romance and fantasy readers will appreciate this terrific trio as Elizabeth Vaughan provides a fabulous finish to a superior story.”

—Midwest Book Review

“An outstanding conclusion to an inventive and riveting trilogy with a passionate, powerful love story at its core.”

—The Romance Reader

WARSWORN

“A moving continuation of the wonderful Warprize. Bravo.”

—Jo Beverley

“I loved [this] sequel…I can’t wait for number three!”

—Anne McCaffrey

“The dramatic tension is riveting, and the emotional stakes are high in this excellent novel.

Vaughan is an exceptional new talent, and the next chapter in this series will be highly anticipated!”

—Romantic Times

“Readers will be delighted…Unusual and thoroughly enjoyable.”

—Booklist

WARPRIZE

“Possibly the best romantic fantasy I have ever read!”

—Anne McCaffrey

“I loved Warprize! Keir is a hero to savor, and Elizabeth Vaughan is an author to watch.”

—Claire Delacroix

“Vaughan’s brawny barbarian romance re-creates the delicious feeling of adventure and the thrill of exploring mysterious cultures created by Robert E. Howard in his Conan books and makes for a satisfying escapist read with its enjoyable romance between a plucky…heroine and a truly heroic hero.”

—Booklist

“The most entertaining book I’ve read all year.”

—All About Romance

“Simply mesmerizing. The story is told flawlessly.”

—ParaNormal Romance Reviews

“Wonderful…Run to the bookstore and pick up this debut.”

—A Romance Review

DAGGER-STAR

ELIZABETH VAUGHAN
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

Published by the Penguin Group

Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.) Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.) Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.) Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi—110 017, India Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.) Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa

Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

DAGGER-STAR

A Berkley Sensation Book / published by arrangement with the author Copyright © 2008 by Elizabeth Vaughan.

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

ISBN: 1-4362-0300-7

BERKLEY® SENSATION

Berkley Sensation Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

BERKLEY SENSATION and the “B” design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

This book is dedicated to

Patricia A. Merritt,

who read every word and always asked for more;

and

Denise Lynn,

who took every phone call, listened,

then convinced me to get back to work.

Thank you both so very much.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I wish there was some way to list all the people who helped me during the writing of this book.

But for once, my words have failed me. So please know that I am deeply grateful to all of you for the love and support, and please forgive the lack.

But I must say a special thank you to my agents, Meg Davis and Merrilee Heifetz, and my editor, Anne Sowards, for their understanding, support, and confidence in me.

ONE

WATER squelched between the fingers of Red’s glove as she pounded on the door.

The wet wood seemed to give under her attack, and she eased back a step, cursing under her breath. Best not to be too fierce, seeing as how she was begging shelter for the night.

Her feet squished in her boots as she stepped back. Some water from the roof of the small hut dripped under her cloak and down her neck. She cursed again as the wet chill rolled down her spine under her armor.

Impatient, she raised her gloved fist and pounded again.

Rain fell in sheets around her, obscuring the cleared area around the hut. She cursed the rain, cursed the night and the cold. She glanced back over her shoulder at Bethral, who was holding the horses, her hood pressed against her head by the weight of the water.

Red was certain that they’d never been this wet, cold, and filthy. The horses’ heads were hanging, poor tired beasts, their legs and bellies caked in muck. Beast was favoring a hind leg, and Red feared he’d strained it badly. They needed shelter, needed it now. Only the faint trace of woodsmoke had brought them here. There was no other sign of shelter for miles.

She turned back to the door, raising her gloved fist to pound on it again, when the door was pulled back, scraping against the dirt of the floor. A wave of blessed heat and the smell of food and fire pressed against her cold face. The hot air was thick with the scent of stew and spices she didn’t know. Her mouth watered.

A figure blocked the door, a big man. Red tilted her head to look into brown eyes flecked with gold, glaring at her, questioning, and full of something she knew only too well.

Pain.

She swallowed hard and her stomach clenched. “Shelter,” she croaked, her throat raw. “We ask shelter for the night.”

“We?” A deep voice rumbled softly, and the door swung open wider, as the man peered over her shoulder and out into the rain. A fire crackled on a hearth behind him and the fragrance of his dinner filled her nostrils.

“My friend and I and our horses.” She swallowed her pride and anger, for asking did not come easy. “We offer peace and honor the household.”

The man snorted softly, as if at a jest. “Such as it is.” He gave her a long look, then nodded once.

“Bide.” The door closed.

Red snarled, letting her rage bubble up. She backed away and squelched over to where Bethral stood patiently in the rain. Her sword-sister looked out from under her hood and raised an eyebrow.

“The man said to ‘bide.’” She took the reins of her horse. “Not sure, but I hope that it means—”

The door creaked open, and the man came out, wrapped in a cloak and carrying a small lantern.

He pulled the door closed behind him. “Come.”

Red took the lead, tugging on the reins to get her horse moving. Beast let his neck stretch out to its full extent before he heaved a sigh and lifted his feet out of the mud to follow. Bethral waited a pace or two before following with her horse.

The man led them around the hut, passed an old stone well, and moved into the night. Red peered ahead, surprised to see a large stone structure appear in the darkness. He moved carefully to open an enormous wood door, sliding it off to one side. She led her horse into the dark barn, far enough to allow Bethral to bring Steel in as well.

They stood there, dripping, and gaped. The man lit three lanterns that hung from posts. The building was huge, with box stalls lining both sides of the wide aisle. The place smelled dusty and disused.

A rustling noise came from one of the boxes and a small white goat stuck its head out, blinking sleepily in the soft light. It bleated softly, as if asking a question.

“Visitors,” the man’s voice rumbled. “Go back to sleep.”

The white head pulled back.

“I’ve never seen the like,” Red spoke in the echoing darkness as she took off her dripping cloak.

“It’s huge.”

“From the days when this was a rich and foolish man’s breeding farm.” The man pulled back his hood and hung his lantern on one of the hooks. “The fool is gone, the barn remains.”

“And you?” Red asked. In the light of the lanterns, she got her first good look at the man. A good strong face, handsome even, but etched with lines of sorrow. Dark brown curls, with traces of silver, and those brown eyes, flecked with gold.

“And me,” he replied, not really answering her question. He gazed at her with tired eyes. Not so old as she’d thought he was, but his pain was.

“I go by Red Gloves.” Red said.

His eyes flicked to her gloves, but thankfully he made no comment.

“My friend is Bethral,” Red said.

Bethral pulled off her hood and gave the man a nod. His eyes flickered over her blonde hair and blue eyes.

“Our thanks for—” Red continued.

He waved off her words. “See to your animals. Make free with what you find, for I keep no horses. Down that way is a foaling room. There’s a small hearth there for heat. I’ll bring you wood and such as I can spare.”

“Again, our….” Her voice trailed off as he flipped his hood up and left the building, leaving them standing there. She glared at the door. “Rude pig.”

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