Gateways 07_ What Lay Beyond - Diane Carey [87]
“Father, I…” Suddenly overwhelmed by emotion, Calhoun took a step toward Gr’zy, his arms wide. But immediately his father retreated, his face darkening. “Father, what …?”
“Are you insane?” his father demanded.
“What? I don’t…”
“Look at you,” and this time there was no jest or gentle jibe in his father’s voice. “About to embrace me? Me? Has this Federation of yours made you softer than I thought?”
For a moment, Calhoun felt anger bubbling within him, but he suppressed it. “No, sir,” he said firmly.
The clanging of swords outside was getting faster and faster. Gr’zy ignored it. “Good. Because this is Kaz’hera, my son. Such… delicate emotions are inappropriate here. Softness of body and spirit are not rewarded, as you well know. For that matter,” and he took a step toward Calhoun, his voice low and confidential, “I am concerned about the female you came with.”
“Shelby?”
“If that is her name, aye. The simple fact is that she may not fit in here, M’k’n’zy. She may not fit in here at all.”
“I… I don’t understand. She’s a warrior at heart, Father… you just have to see that”
Suddenly from outside, Calhoun heard metal slide against metal, and an abrupt female shriek which Calhoun recognized instantly. “Eppy!” he shouted, and immediately pushed past his father.
The blinding brilliance of the sun didn’t bother him. Instead he skidded to a halt and focused, to his horror, on the body of Elizabeth Shelby. She was lying flat, her arms and legs flopping about like a stringless puppet, her head to the side with a face of permanent surprise etched into it. There was a sword lying near her, having just slipped out of her lifeless hand. Standing over her was a burly master-at-arms, gripping a sword still dripping with blood. He was looking down at Shelby with mild frustration and, even as her blood pooled around her, turned to Calhoun and said with amused annoyance in his voice”Slow learner, but she’ll get the hang of it.”
Calhoun did not hesitate. He strode quickly across the ground to Shelby. He gave her no outward sign of affection, did not kneel over her, shut her sightless eyes, cry out, beat his chest, rend his garment, or in any other way, mourn her. Instead he simply picked up her fallen sword, turned it around, and ran himself through with it.
“You lasted long enough to see a sunset!” Gr’zy told him approvingly, taking a step back. His voice was so boisterous as to be deafening, and his breath smelled like burnt animal flesh, since Gr’zy usually preferred his meat thoroughly charred. “That’s good! That’s good! And that, as you know, entitles you to an eternity of sunrises!”
“Father, I…” Suddenly overwhelmed by emotion, Calhoun took a step toward Gr’zy, his arms wide. But immediately his father retreated, his face darkening. “Father, what …?”
“Are you insane?” his father demanded.
“What? I don’t…”
“Look at you,” and this time there was no jest or gentle jibe in his father’s voice. “About to embrace me? Me? Has this Federation of yours made you softer than I thought?”
For a moment, Calhoun felt anger bubbling within him, but he suppressed it. “No, sir,” he said firmly.
The clanging of swords outside was getting faster and faster. Gr’zy ignored it. For some reason, though, it caught Calhoun’s attention. He wasn’t sure why, but he was quite positive that it was… important somehow. “Good,” said Gr’zy. “Because this is Kaz’hera, my son. Such… delicate emotions are inappropriate here. Softness of body and spirit are not rewarded, as you well know. For that matter,” and he took a step toward Calhoun, his voice low and confidential, “I am concerned about the female you came with.”
“Shelby?” He hadn’t been thinking about Shelby for the past moments, but now that her name was mentioned, it hit him with