Free Unleashed by Kate Douglas Page A

didn’t tangle around his legs the way his robes often had. Of course, he’d rarely had to rush as he rushed now, hurrying down the dark and empty utility tunnel toward the training grounds.
    Any other time he would have taken the main passage, but these narrow tunnels, used mostly by the Lemurian Guard, were more practical when one was in a hurry. Besides, there was little risk of being waylaid by any of his fellow scholars. He didn’t want to have to explain why he, a well-known scholar and philosopher, was now training some of Lemuria’s new Paladins.
    He still wasn’t quite certain himself.
    “Who the nine hells do they think they’re kidding?” He would have laughed if it didn’t sound so pathetic. Though well trained in battle strategy and swordsmanship, he was a man who won battles with words, not a sword.
    Gods be damned, even his own so-called sentient blade still didn’t think enough of his fighting skills to speak to him, but times were changing.
    He did have the skills, and he had, after all, volunteered.
    After Roland, the new Captain of the Guard twisted his arm.
    A flash of blue caught his eye as he rounded a curve in the passage. He jerked to a stop.
    It couldn’t be . . . could it?
    “Willow?” His heart pounded as he flattened his palm against the wall and searched for the elusive blue sparkle. He’d never thought to see that amazing little will-o’-the-wisp again.
    He drew his sword and used the light from the crystal blade. “Willow . . . are you there?”
    Carefully he searched the narrow passage. She couldn’t be . . . but there was always a chance, always . . . A small chip—a bit of crystal embedded in the tunnel wall—reflected swordlight with a flash of blue. Gods be damned.
    He let out a big breath and sheathed his weapon. “Of course you’re not here, are you?” What the nine hells was he thinking? Willow was gone, nothing more than consciousness now, that amazing mind, that beautiful little sprite, stuck inside the body of a stupid dog.
    Sighing, remembering Willow, wishing the impossible and feeling like a fool, he continued down the tunnel to the training field.
     
    * * *
     
    “Nine hells, woman. Be careful!”
    Blinded by sweat, Taron lunged to one side. His foot slipped out from under him on the slick stone floor; he ducked his head and rolled to the left. Shoulder first, he hit the ground hard, a hairbreadth ahead of the sharp edge of the Paladin’s sword. The shimmering crystal blade sliced much too close to his throat.
    Lying on his back, gasping for air and absolutely livid, he glared at his opponent. “This is a training exercise, Isra! You’re not supposed to try and kill me!”
    Isra held out her hand in immediate apology. “I am sorry, Taron. Thank the gods you’re so quick! I guess I got a bit caught up in our battle.”
    “Mock battle, Isra. And gods be damned, but quick had nothing to do with it. I fell on my ass or I’d be a dead man. Please, try to remember I’m one of the good guys.” Shaking off his unexpected anger, he took her offered hand.
    She tugged and he stood, but she didn’t turn him loose. Her full lips lifted into a sexy smile. “That you are, Taron of Libernus.” Her voice had gone low and rather husky, and she cocked one dark eyebrow as she studied him with unabashed interest. “You are most definitely one of the good guys.”
    He glanced at their hands—still linked—and back at her face. She continued to assess him in a most forthright manner. He wasn’t quite sure how to react—the average Lemurian woman was not so bold.
    Isra, though, was a Paladin. Once a slave in the crystal mines, now she was a soldier in Lemuria’s new army of woman warriors.
    Paladins knew no fear, nor did they lack confidence.
    Taron could use a little of that confidence himself, he thought, staring uncomfortably at their linked hands. He’d learned long ago that women were not for him, and he wasn’t about to let this one distract him from his