Warrior of the Ages (Warriors of the Ages) (43 page)

It was the first Tuesday in August, time to review schedules and rotate his men, but he hadn’t gotten verbal updates on happenings within the village in over two weeks now. Despite The Mother’s wishes, Kahtar knew all that would keep him going was duty. Heading into his front room he was surprised to see Honor Monroe come through the front door. Regret etched lines into his young face, lines that should not have shown even a ghost for another twenty years. Kahtar stiffened, a hand reaching towards his waist for a blade that wasn’t there. The motion wasn’t lost on Honor.

“Would my death ease your pain, Chief? I think I would give it to you if there was an honorable way to do so.”

“If there was an honorable way I would already have had the satisfaction.”

The pain on Honor’s face should have moved him. It didn’t.

“What do you want?”

Honor pushed his dark hair off his forehead, the usual stiff spikes gone, it hung limp and messy. His blue eyes were regret and sorrow. Kahtar didn’t care. He wanted him out of his house.

“Beth’s father has called the station for you dozens of times in the past two weeks. We got a call from Chagrin Falls police that he’s reported her missing and wants you questioned. Kahtar, they want to talk to you. Ted White has friends in Washington, we need a believable story. A—a body.”

Kahtar sagged against the doorway and closed his eyes. Wouldn’t it be rich if he ended up in a Seeker prison for Beth’s disappearance? He hardly cared, but he couldn’t let even Beth’s death draw attention to the village.

With his eyes still closed he asked, “Why wasn’t I notified he was calling for me weeks ago?”

“The Mother said to leave you alone.”

Kahtar sighed and knocked his fingers against his forehead in exasperation.

“And no one thought to have someone call them? Several people are quite adept at pretending to be…” He couldn’t get the name out, hadn’t said it out loud yet and wondered if he ever would.

Honor hurried to answer, “The Mother refuses to allow anyone to lie so blatantly, to pretend that…she’s alive.” The last two words were a whisper, an agony to both men. Kahtar turned his head away, squeezing his eyes tightly shut.

“I’ll go see her parents. They deserve the truth, what we can give them anyway.”

“And the—body?” Honor’s voice was a whisper.

Finally opening his eyes he focused on Honor. The young warrior stepped back instinctively, and Kahtar pushed past him without answering.

DRESSED IN A fresh, neat, police uniform Kahtar pulled into The White’s little driveway. A large riding lawn mower sat in the small front yard, and Ted’s sedan was parked in the tiny garage, but a quick scan revealed he wasn’t at home. Kahtar hadn’t thought to call first.

Carole knelt in the backyard, weeding her vegetable garden. Kahtar knew she’d heard his car when he sensed her stand up and brush dirt off her hands and knees. Within moments she hurried around the house, the look on her pretty, smudged face, hopeful.

As soon as he unfolded himself from the cruiser Carole stopped moving towards him and froze. Taking a step backwards, her eyes riveted on his face, she shook her head.

“No, you. You’re wrong. I’d know.”

For awhile he simply stood there looking at Carole, seeing only Beth in her and unable to compose himself enough to speak. After a time Carole glanced up at the sky and hissed at him, “Get out of here! Ted will be back soon, I can’t have him seeing you. He’ll believe you.”

“It’s true.” Kahtar managed to croak. “She’s gone on, Carole.”

“NO.” Carole shouted at him, crossed the space between them and shoved a hand against his chest so hard he stumbled backwards. She was a strong woman. “You get out of here, right now. Don’t come back here! I’ll think of something to tell Ted, but don’t come here again with your lies!”

“I’m not lying, Carole.”

“You’re not telling the truth either! I’d know!” Carole slammed a fist against her flat chest and it made a dull thud. “I feel her still! She’s my daughter, I’d know!”

All mothers thought that. So many times when he’d brought women this news they’d insist they could still feel their children. Surely it was ilu’s gift to them. What Kahtar wouldn’t give to still feel Beth. His own heart was ravaged, bloodied, useless and irreparable. Carole stood across from him, shaking with anger, her expression fierce—a shieldmaiden defending her last hope. Unable to bear it he looked away from those blue eyes and whispered, “She’s in a good place, might we all know such bliss in the end….” Ah, even ruined his heart still felt. Pain really had no edges. It went on forever. Swallowing he continued, “Do you want her remains brought here?”

Carole made a horrific sound, but when he instinctively went towards her she backed away, again fierce and angry.

“YES! Show me! You can’t and if you do I will kill you! Now get out of here right now! GO!” She screamed the words, her low voice sounded strangled.

Sliding into the cruiser Kahtar knew then how he would end this time. At the hands of the woman he should have called Mother. Death at the hands of a shieldmaiden would be new. It would take planning to make certain she wasn’t punished for it.

THE VILLAGE POLICE were busy. A tour bus had gotten lost and wandered in off the highway. Unable to find a gas station, it ran out of fuel on Main Street. Warriors from the police force directed light traffic around it. Several men were working to get it operational and on its way. Unfortunately the fifty-four senior citizens on board had taken to the street. Cramming the coffee shop or wandering through town, exclaiming over peculiarities that caught their attention. Parked across the street from the bus, Kahtar climbed out of his cruiser. He scanned for his men who had gone to get fuel for the behemoth. The elderly Seekers didn’t hesitate to verbalize their thoughts and comments drifted towards him.

“I don’t remember this place, and I was raised not thirty miles from here.”

“They don’t even have a supermarket, and Martha said there’s no school either!”

“There’s one shop down that side street, but it’s not even open!”

The remark about Beth’s shop hurt, Kahtar hadn’t even thought of the place in the past weeks. A rheumy eyed, white haired man trotted towards him with a huge smile. Small of stature, he moved like a man much younger than his obvious years and he stopped short of Kahtar, leaned back, squinting, trying to get a good look at him through cataracts.

“Well, I’ll be. You haven’t changed a lick in all these years!”

“Sir?” Kahtar glanced down at the man, wishing he could do something for those cataracts. It would be effortless, but the man was a Seeker and it was forbidden, odd how much Beth had changed him in such a short time.

“Mr. Asher!” A young woman called to the old man from the shade of an awning, her coral colored blouse and name tag pegging her as the one in charge of the group. When Mr. Asher ignored her, she ran after him. Kahtar didn’t even focus on her, though he knew she was smiling up at him and completely ignoring Mr. Asher. The Mother had been right. It was too soon for him to have returned to police work. Pretending simply took more effort than he had to give.

The woman addressed Kahtar though her words were for the elderly man.

“We don’t want to bother the nice officer, now do we?” The tone was condescending to a man of such years and Kahtar bristled to hear him spoken to like a child.

But Mr. Asher informed her. “Hah. Montgomery and I fought together at Normandy! He saved my life!” Turning from the young woman he continued, “Never had a chance to even thank you! Bullet in the back takes the words outta a man, that’s for sure. D’ya remember? Ya carried me like a sack of potatoes the whole time, taking bullets yourself. Always said a prayer for you, every day since then, a real blessing to be able to say thank you this side of the grave. I mean it, Montgomery. Thank you soldier, glad to see you made it out too.”

The man’s words brought the experience back clearly—the storm, the beach, the slaughter. Montgomery hadn’t made it out alive, not really. Separated from his clan, with no one to help heal him, he’d died from a belly wound not long after pulling the young pilot from the tangled wreckage of a glider. Coupled with the horror around him, that death had been indescribably painful. Physically there was none of the young flight officer left in this old man, but Kahtar remembered searching through the wreckage of gliders for his people and finding the only survivor, a Seeker. Now, over seventy years later here he was, thanking him from the heart. For the first time in his existence Kahtar felt the touch of a Seeker in his heart. Unshed tears almost choked him. He didn’t want to feel their hearts too. He didn’t want to feel anything.

“Mr. Asher!” The woman admonished, “You’re being silly! Normandy was a long time ago, wasn’t it?”

How soon the past was forgotten. “I remember.” Kahtar told the man gruffly, not caring who heard him.

Asher smiled while the woman stood behind him shaking her head in disapproval.

“Got married, had five kids, twelve grandchildren and seven greats—so far. Still got that bullet though it never bothered me until a few years ago, shifted they say, right up against my spine now.”

Kahtar took the old man’s hands in his and held them. Tears blurred his vision as he looked down at Asher and the old man squeezed his hands, his grip surprisingly strong.

“Anything I can do?” Old Asher offered. He didn’t ask why Kahtar still looked like a man in his prime. He simply offered help, his heart open and giving.

Shaking his head Kahtar admitted, “I lost my—wife.”