Nuworld.

The Saga Begins.

Lorie OaClare.

Chapter One.

When would she ever learn?

Patha had warned her about taking the Gothman for granted, and Tara cursed her foolishness. She scoped out how the flat plains had now disappeared, replaced by more dominant hills, and she knew without a doubt that she was surrounded. She couldnat see them, but they were there, keeping their distance. The Gothmana"the other warrior racea"hid themselves wellabut her skills were better. Much better.

While she had a moment to breathe, Tara reflected on the information shead gleaned recently. The plains, known as the Freelands, were completely behind her now. And good riddance. Although the land there was healthy, the wildlife plentiful, and the seasons on a continual cycle, the people were boring.

Having been bred from a warrior race, she found it hard to relate to the Freelanders, even though they were polite to Runners. Tara knew from the stories told by her people, that Freelanders were more inclined to welcome her people than other races. But that didnat mean she felt comfortable around them. She still had a hard time imagining a race working the land and making no effort to develop a militia. Their weapons were primitive and used mainly to hunt.

aOh yes, I can just picture it, invaders creeping across the land and they draw a rake and quiver out a slight Halt,a she said aloud. She couldnat contain the chortle catching in her throat. What a way to protect a race! She nodded her head in agreement with her initial a.s.sessment. The agrarian society of the Freelanders was definitely a little too dull for her liking.

Ever since shead grown out of adolescence and arrived at the Age of Searching, Tara had begun to crave knowledge of the world, just like all her fellow Runners. The tales told by clan elders about other races were no longer enough; she wanted to see these people and their lands for herself. Tara knew of no other way of doing it than by striking out on her own.

Tara sighed. She had always moved with the clan, traveling from one territory to another, learning the skills of the warrior and racing on her motorcycle with the other children. Shead also helped to raise the younger Runners, and cooked and cleaned along with the other girls and boys. While these activities had always contented her, they did no longer.

Of all the stories told around the fire, Pathaas stories of the Gothman intrigued her the most. Runners and Gothman had a hatred for each other that transcended the winters. She had asked the elders time and again why this was so, but no answer ever satisfied her. For many winters shead thought about the causes. The only reason she could see for Runners and Gothman despising one another was that each race thought the other inferior.

Tara meant to find out for herself which race was correct.

Now that shead made her decision, Tara realized she had the perfect opportunity to see what kind of warriors the Gothman actually were. Of course entering Gothman wasnat what most Runners would view as an opportunity. More like a suicide journey. She shivered as icy fingernails traced patterns along her spine. The growing hills spread around her. Rugged countryside was a sure indication she had entered Gothman territory. She checked for her laser, running her fingers over the smooth metal as the weapon rested, secure, on her belt. Not for the first time, Tara hoped her plan would prove productive and not be her demise.

She wove in and out of the protruding rocks half-buried in the ground and navigated her motorcycle with expertise, keeping most of her attention on the surrounding area. All of a sudden, her leisurely jaunt became much more than a drive through a new countrya"it became a lesson in survival.

An explosion vibrated the air, causing her to nearly crash her motorcycle into a tree.

aAhhh!a The daughter and heir of the leader of the Blood Circle Clan couldnat believe shead just screamed.

Shead heard stories about the weapon that exploded when shot, leaving a foul smell in the air, but shead always thought them ridiculous. But nowanow she realized it was true. It was actually true. Taraas heart pounded in her chest.

aStay focused, warrior,a she whispered under her breath. aDonat let yourself be distracted.a This was no time to think about her past. Theyad seen her and then actually fired one of those bang sticks shead always thought were mythical. By the grace of her schooling as a warrior, shead managed to evade the legendary weapon. But for how much longer?

Another shot flew through the air, and a large branch crashed to the ground.

She screamed again and leaned closer to the body of her cycle.

Where were the Gothman? Behind the rocks? Somewhere in the approaching forest? How far could they shoot?

aPrimitive or not, these Gothman weapons can do damage,a she muttered quietly. Tara licked her dry lips. Shead looked forward to meeting the Gothman, but she hadnat expected to encounter them this soon, or under such savage conditions.

Quickly, she propelled her motorcycle into the cool, sweet-smelling forest, and dismounted once the woods surrounded her. She parked the cycle between two embedded boulders and pulled her personally encoded landlink off the handlebars, slipping it in her pocket. She left her bike, hoping it would be safe for the time being. Tara knew the Gothman would find great pride in retrieving a Runneras bike. No other race in the world had achieved the perfection her machine represented.

As she searched for a place to hide, some of the Gothman lore shead heard occupied her thoughts. Gothman only taught their men to fight. Gothman women werenat educated.

aWhat a waste!a she snorted. aImagine! Half of a race needing protection!a This made no sense to her. Runners viewed men and women as equal. All were taught the same skills.

More bang sticks ripped through the air. Tara broke into a run.

aYou men want to play with this woman? Then come get me!a She moved easily through the scattered trees, adrenaline flowing from the thrill of being the hunted.

Her Runner breeding was apparent when she managed to live through the second round of fire. She turned quickly to see two more Gothman approaching on foot, moving stealthily from protruding rocks to a large tree. She could smell the explosives and could feel her heart racing as she watched part of the tree next to her disappear after one of their bullets attacked it. She returned fire with her laser weapon, the silent weapon giving no clue of her location, and two Gothman lay dead on the forest floor.

Tara ran through the pines as fast as her small agile body would allow. Within minutes shead eliminated another three Gothman. Patha was right; these people loved to fight but hadnat mastered the art of being true warriors.

She slowed to a trot and listened to the breeze as it carried the scent of the pines through the air. Trees stood far enough apart to allow wide sunbeams to graze the ground. Gra.s.s and patches of moss glowed an emerald green, offering a bright contrast against the patches of crisp, clear sky. It was a deep blue and she knew the sun would set soon. With twilight, the long shadows would make it more difficult to spot a sole traveler, especially one clothed in the color of night. Still, she had to be cautious.

Tara studied every bush, tree, and rock. Hearing a sound she stopped, wondering if more Gothman waited to waylay her. No. It was nothing more than a forest creature. The Gothman had so successfully controlled these lands for hundreds of winters she found it hard to believe there werenat more lying in wait for her. Where was their skill?

She continued walking at a slow pace, getting her bearings by studying the sun shining through the trees. The silence grew eerie in its stillness, and Tara knew something was very wrong.

The Gothman werenat gone. She could smell them, sense them watching her. But why just watch? Why didnat they try and kill her? Instinct told her to run. Run like h.e.l.l. Get away as quickly as she could. But those same senses also urged her to go on. After all, the Gothman had seen her plenty of times in the last few minutes, yet they kept their distance. Shead even taken out a handful of their men, yet they didnat retaliate.

Why?

The smell of the pine invaded her thoughts, telling her she was now deep in Gothman territory. Her chances of walking into another ambush were significantly higher.

Taking her training into account, she used the natural shield of the rocks to her advantage and switched her laser to scan for life-signs. The Gothman controlled large amounts of land. They certainly couldnat do so if it werenat adequately guarded.

Something caught her attention.

Wood burning.

She searched the pines in front of her for its source.

A small wooden house with a stone foundation appeared through the trees.

Yes! I found it! Tara gloried in how well shead listened to Pathaas stories.

Had he known she would use his tales to explore the different nations? Of course. He must have. All good Runners used the accounts of their peers to learn about places theyad not yet explored. They could move through anyoneas land with that knowledge.

The old Runners would retell the information they had heard from others. If there were several old Runners around an evening fire, they would always try to outdo each other with their tales. A good listener could always discern fact from fiction in their stories.

Tara was young, just a few more than twenty winters, but even she knew Patha had elaborated on many of his stories. Shead heard some of them numerous times, and noted the changes as he told them around the fire to any new Runner visiting their clan.

Before her stood the house Patha described over and over again. It had to be.

Tara approached it cautiously, making sure to stay hidden by the trees until she was sure of its occupants.

Light flowery, faded curtains covered gla.s.s windows. They were closed however, prohibiting Tara from seeing into the house. Voices trailed through the night air, and the front door of the house opened.

She moved nimbly through the natural camouflage until she could see inside the house.

aIt will go well for you to notify us immediately if you notice anyone, it will.a The loud grumbling voice broke the night air.

While the thick Gothman accent had been described to Tara before, it still sounded strange hearing it for the first time.

aOf course, Iall call immediately if there be any disturbances, to be sure. I daresay youare too kind to protect an old lady, you are.a Tara could see two large men appear out of the shadows as they moved toward motorcycles. A pet.i.te woman stood on the porch of the house and wrapped a knit shawl tightly around her shoulders.

aTell his Lordship that Iall be sure to have a warm pie to his house in time for lunch, I will. I look forward to seeing his mama. Is she well?a The two men grunted in answer and took off down a gravel road, raising dust into the night air.

Tara studied the woman who stood on the porch and watched the Gothman warriors until the sound of their motorcycles was barely audible.

The woman continued to stand there, looking up into the sky, apparently surveying the first of the stars as twilight faded to darkness.

She tightened her grip on the shawl and finally turned toward the trees. aYou can come out now, you can. Iam a simple woman and Iam no threat to you, thatas for certain. I know the Runners, and you didnat come to my house by accident, so come out and allow me to be hospitable, yes.a Tara didnat move.

Patha had talked about the Gothman woman, Reena, many times. This lady definitely fit the description. She was a small woman, her features pet.i.te but in nice proportion. Dark gray hair wrapped around her head in a wide bun. Her skin wasnat wrinkled although laugh lines could be seen next to her eyes. The lone light hanging from the porch ceiling accented the womanas features with graceful shadows.

Tara needed to be cautious, though. She could defend herself if this woman did try to call the Gothman back, but she couldnat tell if there were more in the house. Even with a thorough scan of the area, the Gothman could have any number of places to hide their motorcycles.

The old woman must have read her mind. aNow, I know youare there, Runner. I can smell your leather, I can. I know youare armed, and I daresay I donat have a gun. I donat feel like going back into my house, wondering who be outside watching me, no. That much is certain. So, come out now!a The old ladyas voice had become authoritative.

She had thought her Runner attire would aid in hiding her, but the old ladyas comments made her rethink that decision. She needed to blend in. But apparently with her dress, anyone in Nuworld could recognize her instantly. Tara glanced down at her clothing. Her black leather boots laced to her knees and thin black gloves fit like a second skin, adding to the practicality of clothes required for the lifestyle of a Runner. The thick leather protected her skin in battle. The black Runner material, known throughout Nuworld as being virtually bulletproof, was woven with a thread made from crushed gla.s.s.

Tara shrugged. Ridding herself of her Runner clothing would be helpful. Maybe the old lady could prove useful.

She moved out from behind the rock and walked up to the porch. She didnat watch the woman, but instead focused beyond her through the open door, looking for movement. She needed to rea.s.sure herself that she wasnat walking into a trap. She ascended the porch stairs as silent as a cat and faced the old woman.

aWell now, you are a Runner, you are. The black leather does hide you well in the shadows, doesnat it? Come on in. I promise Iam quite alone, I am. So tell me your stories. How do you know of me?a The old woman spoke without taking a single breath even as she turned and walked back in to her home.

Tara followed her.

Reena stepped to the side, allowing Tara to view the interior before she shut the door behind them and moved to a kitchen that was merely a wall along the side of a small living room. She put a tall thin pot onto the stove and lit a match to start the fire underneath it. A pie was produced out of an off-white icebox and the old woman pulled a plate out of the freestanding cupboard. Reena placed a large slice of the pie on it.

aItas apple. I reckon Iall make another one in the morning for the Lordas family, I will. It helps to show my loyalty, you know. Lord Darius knows Iave entertained Runners before, but I like to keep peace in the family, so to speak.a She placed her hand over the pot, then reached for a rag hanging on the icebox and removed the container from the stove. aDo you like your coffee hot?a aThatall be fine. Thank you.a Tara couldnat believe it. The woman had coffee. That was a coveted treat. The plants making the rare drink didnat grow in their nation and could only be obtained through the right connections. How did a Gothman woman have such connections?

Reena picked up a wooden knitting needle and gathered together a project shead obviously been working on for some time. It appeared to be a sweater, and Tara wondered at the patience required to take on such a task.

Crowas feet appeared next to the old ladyas eyes as she smiled, then used one of the knitting needles to point to a lumpy couch with a multicolored quilt thrown over the back of it. aSit. Iall be curious to see how you plan on eating that pie with your Runner headscarf wrapped around your face, and Iall be mighty offended if you refuse my food, I will. My pies are known throughout Gothman and if you traveled through the trees with the usual Gothman hospitality to greet you, I daresay you should be hungry, yes.a Tara unwrapped the black scarf from her face as she stroked her finger across the red circle that surrounded the embroidered red drop of blooda"the symbol of the Blood Circle Clan, to which she proudly belongeda"and she sighed. The symbol meant so much to her, she only hoped she was worthy of all that it entailed. Very carefully she set the scarf on the couch next to her.

She placed the mug of coffee on the wooden table in front of the couch and eagerly tasted the sweet dessert. It was as good as promised and she quickly took bite after bite.

aIam thinking if the Gothman guards knew they were chasing such a beautiful wench as you, theyad have fought a bit harder to capture you, they would.a The womanas laugh tempted the corners of Taraas mouth.

If a person could be judged by their home, then Reena was a warm, caring person with patience and a solid foundation in her culture. The small cabin offered several different aromas that Tara easily distinguished.

The wooden walls and floors offered the spicy scent of the forest. The pungent smell of brewed coffee mixed with the sweet bouquet of baked apples. Other aromas floated through the air as well, not as easily defineda"the pungent tang of spices and herbs used either for cooking or medicinal purposes, and a sterile smell, possibly soap used for laundry or bathing lingered in the air.

Tara also noticed a variety of handcrafted items in addition to the faded patchwork quilt on the sofa: a knitted afghan hung over the back of a rocker that waved back and forth as Reena gently rocked, and several embroidered wall hangings framed the walls. These items shared a bit of the woman sitting across from her, smiling peacefully and glancing at her occasionally with gentle blue eyes.

Reena tried hard not to stare at the beautiful young woman. Her light brown hair fell gracefully past her shoulders and was as supple and shiny as silk. Her complexion was fair although she had a red tint much as a person would from the sun. Reena realized it probably came from riding without a headscarf. Her skin was smooth, at least what Reena could see of it, with no scars or marks of battle on the young face. A novelty among Runners. The girlas sapphire eyes took in everything around her, conveying intelligence and a bit too much wisdom for her age.

aMy goodness, youare barely a woman, and so beautiful. The men of these parts wonat take kindly to knowing a looker like you avoided them so skillfully, Iam thinking. Their women donat learn the skills youave learned, they donat.a aSo Iave heard.a aWell now, whatas your name and whose stories bring you here?a aIam Tara of the Blood Circle Clan.a aAh, Pathaas stories sent you here, they have.a Reena nodded and started to rock a bit faster in her chair.

Sheas finally come to me.

So overjoyed was Reena to have the young woman sitting in her home, her heart forgot to beat for a second. aIam Reena and you may call me that. Now, are you Pathaas daughter?a aI gained that honor at the age of four, but not by birth.a Tara chewed as she spoke. aIam at the Age of Searching and have heard the stories about you. Those stories also told me that Gothman donat like women.a Reena noticed her laugh interrupted Tara as the youngster stopped to look up from her pie with inquisitive eyes. It was hard not to get up and move closer to this young Runner.

aGothman like ladies just fine,a she said, still laughing. aThey like them in the kitchen and in the bedroom. An unclaimed woman such as you will be plenty liked in this world, I fear.a The woman stopped laughing. aSo, Tara of the Blood Circle Clan and daughter of the leader of all Runners, I would think youave come here with your head full of stories of Gothman, you have. I know a Runner doesnat enter a land aimlessly without a plan, so letas hear it.a aIa"a aYou must be an excellent warrior, I would think,a Reena continued on, ato get past the guards. But if you display your abilities youall be detected instantly, to be sure. Gothman women donat fight, that is true. Youare young and unclaimed, yes. I daresay your destiny here is to be raped continually until youare claimed, it will.a aIam no stranger to being attacked, and I donat fear Gothman men.a Tara gestured with her fork. aI came here to see if you had clothing that will help me mingle among the Gothman and learn their ways.a aIam sure your skills are outstanding, but ten men against one woman arenat good oddsaeven if that woman is a Runner, no.a aI thoughta"a Tara began.

Reena didnat hear her. aI might be able to find some clothes that will fit you, yes. Youare small, like me you are.a Reena chuckled again.

aWould you be willinga"a Taraas rush of words were cut off once more.

aI daresay in my youth I had much of your beauty. But the more you change to fit in, the more trouble youall bring on yourself, that much is true.a aSo youall help me?a Taraas expression brightened.

Reena could see her warning had been ignored, but she answered just the same. aYes.a Reena tried to hide the excitement in her voice. Patha had sent Tara to her; she just knew it. There was no way she could let this young woman out of her home without getting to know her first. aIave known a Runner or two in my day, I have. You want to know the Gothman, and if I donat help you Iam sure youall resort to a backup plan, you will. Youall stay the night here, though. Iam sure Lord Dariusa guards will be keeping an eye on the woods for a Runner through the rest of the night, they will.a *

Tara watched the old lady get up from her rocking chair and open a door leading to a bedroom. Tara didnat move, but the woman continued to talk to her. From what Patha had taught her of Gothman society, Tara wondered why the woman didnat have a man around.

aIam sure Iave an extra nightgown for you, I do. We need to get you out of those clothes immediately, yes. Iave many visitors and to be certain weall have to come up with a story to explain your presence, we will. The women around here use me for a midwife and the Gothman like to reproduce. I stay quite busy, that much is sure.a Reena laughed again as she retreated down a hall and into a dark room, her voice trailing off as she moved.

aLetas see.a She returned a minute later holding up a long paisley nightgown with white ruffles around the collar. aThis is quite becoming, and I do think it might fit, it will. Iam thinking Iall have to wash some clothes for you to wear during the day. Not to worry, Iall provide you with a modest wardrobe, yes. Go change into this. Weall figure out the rest in the morning. Tomorrow is a new day, you know. Now move along, get going.a Tara took the feminine nightgown to the bathroom and slowly disrobed. She felt ritualistic as she shed the black leather pants and jacket of her Runner heritage. She told herself, as she discarded her sleeveless black undershirt, that along with her clothes she also needed to shed the actions of the Runner. From this point forward she would be a Gothman woman, outwardly void of any rights, pa.s.sive and submissive. Somehow she would do her best to be subservient and domestic. Oh boy! Talk about choosing a foreign lifestyle!

Her thoughts drifted back to her first encounter with the Gothman in the forest.

She hadnat planned on making such close contact with the brutal race so soon. Now they knew she was here. It still didnat make sense to her that shead managed to get through the soldiers unscathed. Considering the close range when they used the bang sticks, she should be wounded or captured, if not killed.

Tara couldnat help but wonder if leaving her unharmed hadnat been the plan all along. When she heard the knock on Reenaas front door, those thoughts quickly flew out of her head.

Chapter Two.

Tara opened the bathroom door quickly. More Gothman soldiers? She hoped not. She began moving into the hallway when she stopped in her tracks. What happened to her vow of submissiveness? Her goal of blending in? Here she was, ready to protect the old lady who had been so hospitable toward her by barging in to the living room. And giving herself away in the process.

Pa.s.sive, she warned herself, be pa.s.sive. Slowly and quietly she left the bathroom and tiptoed to the end of the hallway.

aJoli, my dear, youare not here for a social call at this houraam I right?a There was sincere concern in Reenaas tone.

From her post at the end of the hallway, Tara caught a glimpse of a very pregnant young woman standing in the middle of the living room, her gaze focused on the ground.