War of the Fathers (2 page)

The last rays of the day lit upon the trees of the forest
and caused the leaves to glimmer. Some of which were already turning orange and
yellow. Even though a majority of the leaves still held their original color,
the reminder of the approaching fall wasn't lost on Jorad Rahid as he made his
way down the trail.  

He looked through the forest to the large clearing
ahead. Clearing wasn’t exactly the right word since it was quadruple the size
of Neberan but he couldn’t think of another way to describe it. Little grew in
the open area because it was covered with paved rock.

The pavement showed little in the way of wear, despite
the fact that Jorad believed it to be well over a thousand years old, maybe
from even before the Severing. That wasn’t what drew his eye though; it was the
tower in the center. He was certain it—people from Neberan called it
Vigorock—was from before the Severing.

At several places in the clearing, rocks had been
mounded up in various formations, the largest of which was several stories high
and shaped like a pyramid. These formations looked much newer.

“We need to get back,” Soret Tedenhel said, breaking
into his thoughts. “It won’t be long before my dad notices I’m gone.” She was a
step or two behind him and was moving carefully, trying to keep her dress from
brushing up against the bushes that were crowding the path; it had been made
for festivals, not for moving about the woods. He figured she was also getting
cold, but didn’t want to say so.

“Besides Vigorock gives me the creeps,” Soret said.
“Wish it wasn’t so close to Neberan. I hate seeing it every day.” She fidgeted,
her green dress shimmering and Jorad couldn’t help but notice her figure as she
shifted, her long black hair twisting around her. She caught him looking and he
returned his attention to Vigorock, a much less impressive view and perhaps
less mysterious.

Seeing Vigorock from this close, and it was still
almost a mile away, was something else. It was like a big metal spike that was
similar to a pyramid at the base, but instead of four sides it had eight. The
sides twisted around the length of the tower giving Vigorock an unearthly look.
How could anybody live within sight of this and not wonder what it was? More
than a thousand years old and the metal hadn’t rusted; its reflected light
would have been visible from Zecarani if there wasn’t a mountain range in the
way.

Adar was convinced the tower was a weapon and had
spent a lot of time trying to puzzle it out. Jorad had wondered about Adar’s
sanity when they spent an afternoon circling the tower, stopping every so often
so Adar could swipe his thumb along the base. Jorad had asked for an
explanation but of course hadn’t received one. Given the fact that his father
Adar had been unable to puzzle out Vigorock’s mysteries, he would get itchy
feet soon and want to leave Neberan. Jorad was surprised it hadn't already
happened. They'd been in Neberan for six months and that was unusual. The
longest they usually stayed somewhere was less than three.

Despite Soret's desire to turn around, Jorad was drawn
to the tower and continued to move towards it. He'd never been here at sunset
before and maybe the changing light would give him a fresh perspective on it. Perhaps
there would be something with the setting sun that would allow him to unlock
its secrets. If it was a weapon as Adar thought, had it been used to fight
humans or Hunwei?

Jorad stopped moving forward and looked around.
Something wasn’t right, but he couldn’t explain why he thought that. As he
scanned the area his eyes settled on a clump of vegetation. He wasn’t certain at
first what it was that drew his eye to it but there was something about it that
was out of place. It looked too thick, as if it had another bush within. He put
his hand behind him, hoping that Soret would stop. He could have sworn that
he’d just seen eyes.

When the bush began to tremble despite the lack of
wind, he unsheathed his sword. It hadn’t been his imagination.

“Watch out!” Jorad said, taking a step back and
bumping into Soret. It was as if a bush had decided to get up and move. Human
eyes were now peering out from the branches and a figure was emerging as it
pushed through the knee-high grass and stepped out onto the path.

Melyah! The man looked like a walking tree. Attached
to his dark clothes were bunches of grass and small twigs. Despite his alarm,
Jorad studied the figure, it was a marvelous job of camouflage and he wished
that Adar was here to see it as well. Perhaps between the two of them they
would have been able to figure out the method associated with constructing the
disguise. Barely any flesh showed and his face had been rubbed in something
black.

The man’s black hair might have been shoulder length,
but it was impossible to tell as it had been worked into his disguise. Grass
and brush were interwoven with the hair to form a covering that ran down to his
shoulders. He almost reminded Jorad of a young girl who had twisted flowers
into a crown and was pretending to be a princess.

As crazy as the disguise looked, Jorad had to admit
that it had worked. Sure, he had noticed that something was wrong about the
bush, but he spent many hours in the forest because Adar was always dragging
him on patrols looking for Hunwei. The average passerby wouldn’t have noted anything
to be concerned about and would have walked by none the wiser. Jorad examined
the rest of the surrounding area looking for any other irregularities. Even
though nothing else moved, he didn't find that very comforting. There were
several significant patches of trees and bushes where almost anything could
hide. The one this guy had come from was big enough to hide several more just
like him. The man kept his arms by his side in a nonthreatening fashion but
Jorad didn't lower his sword.

“Ou Qui!” Soret hissed.

Jorad was glad she couldn’t see his face. He’d been so
busy looking for others and admiring how the man had hid in plain sight that he
hadn't given any thought to who the man was but now he realized that Soret’s
observation made sense. He’d never met an Ou Qui, but he’d heard stories about
their seeming ability to appear out of nowhere. Now that he’d seen it
firsthand, he was impressed. If the Ou Qui could track as well as they hid, he
never wanted to be their quarry.

The Ou Qui tensed. In a single motion, the man
withdrew two short swords from his side and threw them into the ground. The
movement had been fast enough that Jorad didn't have much time to react before
the Ou Qui’s short swords stood hilts up, several feet in front of him. His
first instinct and been to attack, but when he realized what the man was doing
he stepped back and tried to read the man’s mud covered face. The move had been
faster than Jorad had expected, considering the man had moved so carefully when
coming out of the trees.

If the Ou Qui attacked, Jorad wasn't sure how the
fight would go. He didn’t like that feeling of uncertainty. Most of the armed
people he met didn’t scare him but that wasn’t the case with this guy.

The Ou Qui folded his arms and waited. Jorad couldn't see
any emotion on the man’s face.

“I’ve never heard of an Ou Qui throwing down his
weapons,” Soret whispered from over Jorad's shoulder. He could feel her
brushing up against him. In another circumstance, he would have been thrilled
with the contact. It was the closest she’d gotten to him all evening, but now
he could only think about making sure he got her out of this alive.

The Ou Qui weren’t exactly known for being trustworthy
unless they’d taken an oath. If placing swords in the ground was some sort of
custom, Jorad had never heard of it, but he had little experience with them.
They lived in the southern rain forests and they didn't usually come this far
north. Jorad had once talked with a merchant who claimed that the Ou Qui
collected human ears from surprised victims and wore them as jewelry. Jorad
hadn’t believed it because he’d never met anyone claiming to have lost an ear
to the Ou Qui.

The man was staring at Jorad’s sword. The message was
clear, but Jorad was hesitant to put it down. He didn't want to be unarmed and
if he thrust it into the ground as well, he'd need to clean and sharpen it
afterward.

He waited until it started to become awkward. 
Finally, when he could think of nothing else to do, he stabbed his sword into
the moist earth in front of him. He would have preferred to just return it to
his sheath but if the Ou Qui had just made some sort of peace offering, Jorad
didn’t want to offend him. His sword was two feet longer than the Ou Qui's
short swords and wasn’t as decorated. The hilts of the Ou Qui's short swords
were made from wrought gold and shone in the evening light. It was strange that
a man so consumed with not being seen, carried weapons that reflected the light
so easily.

Jorad hadn’t noticed the swords until the Ou Qui had
removed them from their sheaths. If the Ou Qui was close enough to use them,
perhaps it didn’t matter if anybody saw them reflecting light.

The Ou Qui nodded. “Took you long enough. Now that's
out of the way, we can chat. I'm Ruder.”

Jorad quickly covered his surprise. He had been
expecting primitive speech and had been prepared to use his hands to
communicate if necessary. Ruder spoke with the air of an educated man.

“What do you want?” Jorad wouldn’t offer up their names
unless he absolutely had to, and if it came to that he’d probably make
something up. For many years, Adar and he had gone by different names on a
regular basis and normally he had one already in mind. It was only recently
that Adar had relaxed enough that they'd started using their first names. Using
their last names was still out of the question and always would be. It wasn’t
wise, even this far from Rarbon, to let anyone know he was a Rahid.

Ruder gazed from Soret to him as if sizing them up. An
Ou Qui wanting to talk. Who’d ever heard of such a thing?

“Not much on formalities I see. No matter. How many
more are there with you? When was Neberan was attacked?”

The question caught Jorad off guard. “What are you
talking about? Neberan is just fine.” He didn’t answer the first question on
purpose. He didn’t want Ruder knowing they were alone. The questions left him
unsettled and would have raised his level of alertness if he wouldn’t have
already been well past the point of being afraid for their lives. A man that
could have slit their throats without warning was enough to do that.

Were the Ou Qui planning an attack? As a people, they
had a reputation as some of the best warriors around. If they weren’t at war
with themselves, they were marching off to battle their neighbors. That was the
reason why the rain forests hadn’t seen more settlers. The Ou Qui wouldn’t
allow it. There was supposed to be good hunting down there, but even Adar, who
was drawn to such things, hadn’t shown much interest in heading that way when
Jorad had suggested it. He’d said that it wasn’t worth dealing with the Ou Qui.

Ruder might have looked perplexed, but it was impossible
to tell. The dark coloring of his camouflage combined with the failing light
seemed to erase all his emotions.

“I thought it would have been attacked at the same
time as Wasat,” Ruder said as if speaking to himself. He shook his head,
causing his camouflage braided hair to wrap around his face; bits of the
vegetation were flung off. It reminded Jorad of a dog shaking off water. The
movement gave him a glimpse of netting around Ruder’s neck and the method to
the disguise began to make sense. Jorad would relate what he saw to Adar and
they could try developing their own.

The name Wasat sounded familiar and it took Jorad
several moments to remember that it was the Ou Qui capitol. An attack on Wasat
wasn’t that surprising, given what he knew of them.

“I mistook you as survivors,” Ruder said glancing at
his swords, “or refugees.” Jorad inched forward hoping that Ruder wouldn’t
notice. If Ruder suddenly went for his weapons, Jorad intended to see that he
didn’t get them. “You’re both wearing strange clothes for a stroll through the
woods.”

“Just skipping a wedding,” Soret said. “Never did care
for Sarai or Toni, but I suppose it’s good they found each other.” Jorad half
turned towards her but didn't take his eyes off Ruder. She was telling too much
and her tone didn’t sound nearly as alarmed as he felt. Perhaps her glibness
was just how she dealt with stress. He didn’t know her well enough to say for
sure and he made a small waving motion with his hand hoping to stop her from
saying more but he wasn’t certain that she saw it.

“Zictar,” Ruder nodded towards Vigorock, “is a
dangerous place for a stroll.”

Zictar? Jorad hadn't heard that name before. It made
sense that the Ou Qui would have their own name for the tower considering how
prominent it was. He wondered if the word Zictar meant something. He had tried
to find meaning for the word Vigorock but hadn't been able to come up with
anything. He repeated the name several times to imprint it into his memory.
Perhaps it would ring a bell for Adar and prove to be useful information.

“That’s what I’ve been telling him,” Soret said. “He
comes every week.” Jorad suppressed a growl and hoped that she’d be quiet. He
didn’t want it getting around that he was interested in Vigorock. It might be
an old weapon, but it was a weapon. He didn’t want to draw the Ou Qui’s
attention. He didn’t think that she’d been listening when he’d mentioned that,
he’d have to be more careful with her.

“You’re surprised Neberan is still standing,” Jorad
said, eager to change the subject, “why?” A single man wasn’t much of a threat
to a town, even one as small as Neberan. Unless Ruder was a scout for an Ou Qui
army, there wasn’t much he could do to harm the little town.

“Neberan is in no danger from us.” Ruder’s tone was
flat showing that he had picked up on Jorad’s implication. “We’re at war with
somebody else.”