War of the Fathers (7 page)

Jorad could hear a chicken clucking as it searched for
food and the squeal of a pig coming from somewhere, but other than that Koope
farm had become rather silent. The men and women who'd been working had stopped
to watch the fight. Many had kept their distance and gathered into groups.
Several had approached as if intending to offer aid. Jorad was glad that they'd
been smart enough to not get involved. The head of a young girl was peeking out
the second story window of the farmhouse. Her mother had come to the front
porch and stood with her hands on her hips, she wore an apron covered with
flour.

Most of the bystanders wore confused looks. Jorad
could relate, he was stumped as well. These men had been trying to kill Adar
and he’d spared their lives. Why? The others might have been surprised that
Adar had been able to hold his own with these men using a hoe, but that’s what
Jorad expected from Adar. In another circumstance, Jorad would have found it
comical that Adar’s sword was strapped to his back and his weapon of choice had
been a long handled hoe, but he wasn’t in a laughing mood.

Jorad had survived the fight without a scratch. While
Adar had blood dripping down his face from his injured ear, that was the worst
he’d suffered. He had numerous cuts in other places but stood with vigor and
energy. Of the Radim men, the only one that looked like he could continue
fighting was the last one to stop. He was a very short man and looked like he
was considering an attack even though he'd been ordered by their leader to
stand down.

The crunch of gravel from behind indicated that Soret
was heading towards them. Her hair was in tangles from their frantic ride and
there were streaks of dust on her face. Jorad turned and motioned for her to
stop. She did, but she didn't look happy about it.

Couldn’t she see the danger was far from over? The
fighting could start again at a moment’s notice and Jorad didn't want to worry
about something happening to her. He had just been fighting for his life and
despite that, if her frown was any indication, she was still furious with him.

“Tere, we can either come to an arrangement,” Adar
said addressing the man that Jorad had almost killed, “or we'll kill you. Your
choice.”

Tere snorted and set his jaw. “Returning Jorad to make
his claim is paramount to killing you. What are your terms?”

Soret gasped. This wasn’t how Jorad wanted her to find
out. He'd dodged Soret's question about what he would do after Zecarani and now
he wished that he hadn't. Strangely, the anger had left her face. That wasn't
the response he'd been expecting. Well, truth be told, he'd expected that she
wouldn't have believed him.

Adar looked at Jorad. “Put your sword away.”

“Not as long as they're trying to kill us.” Did Adar
expect Jorad to go with them to Rarbon? He wouldn’t go at the point of a sword.

“Not us, just me,” Adar said. “Do it.” Jorad did as
Adar asked. Tere motioned to his men and they put away their swords as well.

Without his sword in hand, the anger left Jorad as if
he'd been plunged into cold water. He shivered as he realized how close he’d
come to killing another person. What would that have been like? He knew that
Adar sometimes had restless nights when memories of the men he killed tormented
him. When Jorad joined the Radim and made his claim to become Ghar, it was
inevitable that he would kill and be responsible for the deaths of many. Jorad
wasn’t sure if he could live with that or not. One night, in a rare moment of
openness, Adar had shared with him the visions that haunted him. It hadn't been
a comfortable conversation.

 “I need to talk with my son.”

Tere nodded. Adar tossed his hoe to the ground,
motioning for Jorad to follow. He didn’t have any qualms about turning his back
on the three men, or at least if he did, the concern didn’t show.

“Stay on guard, but you have little to worry about,”
Adar said when they were out of earshot. “They’d be executed for harming you.”

“Could have fooled me.”

“You attacked Tere and he defended himself. Don’t you
think it odd that you fought one of Rarbon's best swordsmen and you survived
without a nick?”

“He was trying to kill you.” Jorad had been a little
bit proud of the fact he hadn't suffered a scratch. He realized that Adar was
correct. Tere had been fighting defensively. Jorad should have figured that out
himself.

“I appreciate your help. We should allow them to
escort you back to Rarbon. You were already planning to return anyway. This
will save time because you won’t have to convince the Council you're a Rahid.
Tere and his men can vouch for your heritage. ”

“Let's hope so.” Jorad didn't think he would ever
trust Tere to do anything.

“You'll go with them?”

 Jorad hated feeling roped into this. True, he'd made
the decision already, but there was a big difference between going alone and
being escorted by armed men to make sure he went through with it. Adar did have
a point about not having to prove who he was. He hesitated. Timing was
important and they needed any leg up they could get.

“If it's clear I'm not their prisoner.” Jorad didn't
like this decision and it was only because the Hunwei were breathing down their
necks that he agreed.

Adar nodded and they returned to where the others were
waiting.

“We travel together to Zecarani,” Adar said. “After
that, we part ways and Jorad will go with you to Rarbon as your guest. He is
free to leave at any time and we enter a truce that lasts until I say goodbye
to Jorad and send him with you.”

“Travel with you?” Tere asked, rubbing his face and
muttering something that Jorad didn't hear.

“Or we end the conflict.”

Tere wasn't happy about the offer and the struggle was
evident on his face. At length, he nodded and held out his hand. Adar took it.
There was something exchanged between the two men that Jorad couldn't read and
there were a few tense seconds while their eyes were locked on to one another.
It looked like it would end in a tussle. Tere released his grip and Jorad found
that he'd been holding his breath. He exhaled, glad that it hadn't come to
blows again, and wondered how in Melyah's name they would make it to Zecarani
without killing each other.  

Soret shifted one of her hands from Jorad's waist and
touched his arm, hoping that she could get him to calm down. Even though he’d
agreed to go along with Adar’s plan, he didn’t appear to be happy about it. He looked
over his shoulder and gave her a tight smile, before turning his attention back
to the horse.

Typical. Whenever a woman tried to reach out to a
troubled man, he pushed her away. She squirmed, trying to find a more
comfortable position, but it was cramped with both of them on the horse. Unable
to find anything more comfortable, she sighed and resigned herself to waiting
it out. The sun wasn't making things any better and she wished that she had a
hat.

They were in front of the others as they made their
way back to Neberan and it was taking a special effort on her part to avoid
looking back at the men from Rarbon. She was confused about how the fight
between Adar and the others had ended suddenly without warning. It hadn’t been
more than five minutes later that they were entering a truce. Adar wasn’t a
trusting man and for him to enter into an agreement with men that had almost
killed him—or rather tried to kill him—was unthinkable. Tere had seemed to take
Adar at his word that the Hunwei had returned, which also seemed strange given
the circumstances.

She shuddered as she remembered the fight. Her anger
with Jorad had become sheer terror when she saw how recklessly he'd thrown
himself into the fray. When she had the nerve to watch, she’d been surprised to
see Jorad alive and holding his own with a man twice his age.

With all the stupid things that Erro had done recently
to Jorad, he was lucky that Jorad hadn’t broken an arm or a leg. She’d felt her
face flush as she remembered thinking during the confrontation with her parents
that Jorad should stand up for himself more often. She hadn’t realized that
he’d been holding back on purpose.

She had screamed when Jorad had gone to kill Tere and
couldn’t begin to describe her relief when Adar had intervened. She was
beginning to wonder if there was there something to Erro’s poster after all. Had
Jorad mentioned that he and Adar had been to Colonipo? She couldn’t remember
but it seemed familiar.

 “Wait until I tell my parents that you are the next
Ghar of Rarbon,” Soret said playfully. “They’ll forget all about Erro. They may
even start to like you.” She felt his arms tense.

“I wouldn't bet on it,” Jorad said. “Besides, it won't
be as simple as it sounds. Many have tried and so far nobody has succeeded.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have to pass a number of trials before I can become
a Rahar. After that, I have still more testing before I can be made Ghar.”

“What will the tests be like?”

“It depends. The Rarbon Council decides all that. It's
never the same thing. Many of my ancestors have died during the testing.”

“Oh.” Soret had never heard about any of that.

“My father passed all the tests and somebody killed my
mother to keep him from ascending. It happened on the eve of what would have
been his inauguration.”

“That’s terrible! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to dig up
the past.”

“It’s ok. I barely remember her. Most of what I know
about her I learned from Adar.”

She sighed, her mind awhirl with questions, but now
she was hesitant to probe him further for additional information. There was so much
to sort out. How did she feel about Jorad? Should she go with him to Rarbon?
What about the Hunwei? There was a lot going on, but like fish swimming below
the surface of a lake, she was able to catch only a few glimpses.

Earlier, Soret had been convinced that Jorad was lying
to her about the Hunwei, but now she wasn't so sure. Both Jorad and Adar were
adamant about the Hunwei returning. Tere and those with him had believed them
without question. Apparently, the Radim soldiers set aside all differences when
it came to the Hunwei.

The thought of the Hunwei made her shiver despite the
heat of the late evening sun. The stories that she’d heard about them as a
child had made it impossible to sleep until her father had explained that they
were made up. Without realizing what she was doing, Soret scooted closer to
Jorad. That was even more uncomfortable and after a bit, she shifted back
again.

Jorad was leaving today and Soret wouldn’t see him
again if she didn’t go too, she was certain about that. Rarbon was more than a
month’s journey away, possibly two. How long before a pretty Rarbonian girl
would make Jorad forget all about her?

But what would Soret do if she went? Join the Radim?
Her pulse quickened at the thought. Jorad had said that it was true that the
Radim accepted women and had whole armies comprised of them, but there weren’t
any women with Tere. Had Jorad been serious or joking around? Sometimes he
could be so dry it was hard to tell.

Soret tried to imagine strapping on a Radim sword, but
it was a strange thought. Still that might be a better life than staying in
Neberan and marrying a farmer, or even a wealthy merchant’s son like Erro.
Nothing ever happened in Neberan. The exciting things always happened in a far
off place. She sometimes wished that they would happen here too.

When rumors would come from places like Colonipo or Paroux,
she dreamed of seeing the events firsthand. Paroux, now there was a city that
she wanted to see! Paroux’s shining walls and towers that climbed to the clouds
were supposed to be taller than Vigorock and far more beautiful. Jorad had
mentioned that he’d lived there but hadn’t talked much about it. To him, it was
just another place.

She remained lost in thought for the rest of the trip
and was surprised when she looked up and saw that they were at the Gartel
boarding house. After Jorad, Adar, Tere and the others had seen to the needs of
the horses they headed in to the common room. It was largely empty because it was
still a little while before dinner would be served.

Soret recognized Wes talking with one of the serving
girls in a corner but she couldn't tell who it was because the girl had her
back turned to them when they entered. As always, Anny Gartel did a good job of
keeping the boarding house clean, which was surprising given the type of
clientele that usually frequented the Gartel establishment at night.

There were three strangers talking with Anny. The
first, a pretty woman, turned when they entered. Without realizing it, Soret
pushed back several strands of her hair that had gone askew. The woman’s smile
was stunning and she looked appreciatively at Jorad’s shoulders. Soret cringed
and found herself baring her teeth at the stranger. She tried to change it to a
smile of her own but wasn’t sure that she succeeded. It was rare that Neberan
had visitors other than merchants. These three strangers, combined with Tere
and his men from Rarbon, all at once? This was going to cause quite a stir.

The woman looked relieved to see them and started
towards them but stopped when Tere and his men entered the room. There were
astonished looks exchanged by everybody but Adar who was frowning at the
newcomers.

“Melyah take me!” Tere spoke first, addressing the
woman. “Xarda, what are you doing here?”

“Uncle Tere,” Xarda said, “I could ask you the same
thing!”

Tere didn’t reply as Soret looked between the two of
them. They were related? Xarda was taller than Tere and while he was haggard,
she was beautiful, despite her worn clothes and the sword strapped to her back.

Soret did a double take and couldn’t help but stare at
the weapon, it was smaller than Tere’s, but it was a Radim sword. No doubt
about it. It was true that the Radim allowed women to join their ranks! The
other two strangers with Xarda approached. The first was a large man who stood
a head taller than Jorad and Adar. He might even be bigger than Thon. The
second was a younger scrawny guy. He was Jorad's age, maybe a little older.

“Xarda,” Adar said, “You’re as beautiful as your
mother and Karn you’re just as big a man as you were a boy. Who’s the kid?”

“Leron,” said the scrawny guy. “To think I thought
Xarda was crazy to drag us out here. It’s an honor to meet you.” He had
recognized Adar without an introduction. How had he done that? Soret had
overheard that Adar hadn’t been to Rarbon in over fifteen years. There was no
way this kid was old enough to remember him.

“It seems that you have just as many supporters as you
always did.” Tere gritted his teeth. “Never mind the fact that you’re wanted
for murder. Do I need to remind you all that he was stripped of his title and
there is a standing death order on his head? An order that any Radim is duty
bound to fulfill?”

Xarda looked indignant and cut Leron off from making a
response. “Come now uncle, I don’t care what happened with you two. You can’t
really believe Adar murdered his own wife? Your mother never understood it and
neither do I. You two were like brothers.”

Adar was accused of killing Jorad’s mother? His wife?
That was something that Jorad hadn't mentioned. Tere’s hands balled into fists
and Adar folded his arms. Soret had a feeling it wouldn’t take much to break
apart their pact.

“I was there,” Tere said. “I saw the bloody dagger and
her blood on his hands. Nelion’s lover lay at her side, gasping in the throes
of death. I’d kill him now if I didn’t need him.” Tere looked as if he wanted
to spit but then noticed how clean the floor of the common room was so he
swallowed instead.

“Even with two men you couldn’t kill Adar,” Jorad
said, his voice was firm but he looked confused. Soret wondered if this was the
first he’d heard that Adar was accused of killing his mother and that she had
been found with another man.

“Nelion was faithful,” Adar said to Tere. His voice
was calm and the tone was even, but there was fire in the words that even Soret
was able to pick up on. “You never explained how you found me so fast.”

Soret felt Jorad stir beside her and realized he was
reaching for his sword so she stepped away as she tried to puzzle everything
out. She noticed Leron staring at her and grimaced when he flashed a toothy
smile at her, never mind all the tension in the room. The others could have
been talking about the weather for all the attention he was paying them. She’d
have to keep an eye on that one.

She stopped. She hadn’t even realized what was going
on. Jorad was reaching for his sword? All of the sudden her mouth went dry and
she felt queasy.

“What are you accusing me of?” Tere took a step
forward.

“Are you backing out of our agreement?” Adar almost
looked hopeful.

The two men stood staring at each other until Tere
lowered his hand. Soret hadn’t even noticed him reaching for his sword. Adar’s
arms were still folded but he looked the more dangerous of the two by far.

“Our deal stands!” Tere said. “I don’t know why we
bothered to find Jorad. The years I’ve wasted, only to learn Xarda knew where
to find him all along!” Tere stormed out. His men followed him several moments
later.

“Don’t worry about him,” Xarda said. “A lot of people
never believed his story. Some even say that he was more likely to have killed
Nelion than you.”

“You’re late,” Adar said. “I expected people more than
two months ago.”

“So this is why we came to Neberan?” Jorad sputtered.
The air in the common room seemed to get colder still. Adar met Jorad’s glare
as Xarda shifted uncomfortably.

“I made these plans years ago, before you even knew
anything about your duty.”

“And why didn’t you tell me?”

“It hadn't come up yet.”

As the two men faced each other, Soret became afraid
it might come to blows. She took Jorad’s hand and he looked startled, as if
he’d forgotten she was there.

Karn, the big man, cleared his throat. “Uh, it’s my
fault that we are late. While on the road, I heard a rumor that,” he paused to
look around the room, “we had to investigate.”

“Give me a full report.” Adar motioned for Karn to
follow him outside.

“This conversation isn’t over.” Jorad held Soret’s
hand tight enough that it was beginning to hurt.

Adar pulled the door closed behind him without
answering.

Xarda touched Jorad and Soret found herself bristling.
Xarda was older than Jorad, but she was very pretty and men didn’t care about
age. That golden brown hair and those wide eyes had no doubt attracted many
men. “Jorad, you look like your father but I can see your mother in you as
well.”

“You knew my mother?” Jorad muttered as he stared
after Adar. Soret could feel his heartbeat racing through his hand. “Was she as
infuriating as my father?”

 “Hard to say,” Xarda said lightly as if making a joke.
“I only met her a couple times.” Her tone was completely lost on Jorad.

“I barely remember her.”

 “Well, the portraits still hang in the Council
Chambers. Perhaps that will help.”

There were portraits of Jorad’s mother? That meant there
were portraits of Adar as well. No wonder Adar didn’t need an introduction; his
people would know him on sight. Soret had never known anybody wealthy enough to
have a portrait done. Not even Erro’s parents had portraits.

Soret couldn’t help but stare at Jorad as if she was
seeing him for the first time. His dark brown hair was tussled and standing on
end, the clothes he wore were filthy and wrinkled, but he suddenly seemed
something more.

That’s a stupid thought,
she told herself.
Why
would his appearance change just because I know he comes from wealth and power?
She felt a little foolish that she was so easily impressed and tried to push
away the feeling.

Xarda turned to Soret. “Are you Jorad’s wife?” The
question caught Soret off guard. Why would Xarda think that? She and Jorad had
only just started spending time with one another; surely they weren’t bad
enough to be mistaken for that?