War of the Fathers (17 page)

The smell of roasting meat from a nearby farmhouse
tickled Jorad's hunger, reminding him that he hadn't had a decent meal in over
two weeks. It was too much to hope for a night of rest in an actual bed, but
getting a good meal in Zecarani should be a possibility. As much as he wanted a
soft bed and a hot bath, it was foolish to take the risk with the Hunwei so
close.

Adar and Karn had scouted ahead and reported that
Zecarani hadn’t been harmed yet, so they had continued on to the city. They
needed supplies and Adar was still adamant about recovering the tablet, perhaps
more so now that Zecarani had days left, if not hours. Jorad didn't hold on to
the hope that Adar did of finding out that the tablet was a weapon, but he
understood Adar's perspective. When you were already grasping at straws, why
not grasp at a few more?

They were traveling on the road again because they
were close enough to Zecarani now that it was their only option. The Zecarani
city wall was several stories high but from Jorad's vantage point on the hill,
he could make out the town hall and governor’s palace resting in the center.
The governor was supposed to be an elected official, but as far Jorad knew,
there hadn’t been an election in years. That wasn't an uncommon happening here
on this side of the world.

His eyes focused on the town hall where Deren's tablet
was supposedly kept. It was a tall building with a large indoor assembly center
that had been built before the Severing.

If he remembered correctly, the stonework of the
building had been chiseled with intricate scenes of stories long since forgotten.
Rarbon's Palace and Council Chambers had been built for the specific function
of protecting people. In contrast, the Zecarani town hall and the governor’s
palace were meant to display wealth and grandeur. It was nothing short of
amazing that these buildings still stood, unscathed more than a thousand years
later.

As they descended the hill, he noticed a considerable
group of men on horses approaching from the other direction. As they drew
closer, he was able to make out the deep red brown uniform of the Zecarani
guard. The leader wore a helmet with three metal spikes at the top. His horse
was a large gray stallion that bore a lengthy scar down his neck. Men with
lances followed behind.

Jorad and the others were forced to move to the side
of the road as the group passed. The leader stared at them as he passed. When
he saw Xarda's sword, his eyes narrowed. A Radim sword wasn't common in these
parts. That, added to the fact that Rarbon was one of the few cities to recruit
women into its armies, told the leader where they were from. He looked like he
was thinking of stopping, but he continued on.

Jorad counted five dozen cavalry and couldn't help but
wonder where they were going that required so many men. Were there troubles
with brigands or had the Hunwei done something to draw their attention? He
wished that they had enough blasters to arm them. That, or Ou Qui weapons. If
these soldiers were chasing Hunwei, they would only find death.

Jorad moved to stretch and stopped halfway through
because of the pain in his lower back. Nobody in their group had much skill
with healing. It turned out that Xarda had once apprenticed with a healer but
hadn't picked up very much. She'd done what she could for him, but her skills
were limited. Although he was grateful for her efforts, he was having trouble
sleeping. If he wasn't able to find a healer today to examine his back, it
would have to wait until Rarbon. He didn't relish the idea of facing the Rarbon
Council with a lower back that burned with pain every time he moved. Or worse,
beginning the trials in such a condition.

As they got closer, Soret was trying hard to keep the
look of wonder from her face. Her open mouth as she took in the city made him
smile. In truth, Vigorock was far more impressive, but she’d grown up within
its shadow. If Zecarani impressed her, Jorad couldn’t wait to see her reaction
to Rarbon. Not even the glimmering towers of Parout could compete with the
grandeur of Rarbon’s walls and the palace tower.

The guards looked them over as they approached the
gate but their captain waved them through. They looked bored and their uniforms
were unkempt. Several of their spears were rusting and all of them appeared to
be dull. If they knew what was in the bag bouncing off Adar’s pack or what the
blasters could do, they would not have been so relaxed.

They hadn’t made it very far that night after the
fight with the Hunwei before Adar told everybody to wait. Jorad had accompanied
Adar back as he explained that he wanted to collect the head of a Hunwei. Jorad
hadn’t been looking forward to cutting off the head with their dull Ou Qui
daggers, but they’d found that they were able to touch the skin of the Hunwei
now. Whatever had been protecting it before was gone. When Adar had made quick
work of the head with his sword, the helmet had fallen off, revealing the small
horns covering the top of the corpse’s head.

Now as they entered Zecarani with less than a couple
hours of daylight left, Jorad would like to have thought that he was looking
forward to a relaxing night. Instead, they needed to be out of the city before
dark.

When he saw a large banner hanging between two
buildings, his face lit into a smile. He’d forgotten about the Festival of
Stars. Zecarani must have spent most of the day, if not the week, preparing for
its celebration. Numerous banners hung from the buildings. Soret grabbed his
hand smiling in anticipation and for a moment, everything seemed right.

“I’ve heard merchants talk about the Festival of Stars
in Zecarani,” Soret said. “They say it’s like nothing else. I never thought I’d
be in Zecarani during the festival! The food, the music, the dancing. Will you
dance with me?” It was the first real smile he’d seen from her in weeks, she
bounced with anticipation.

“Of course.” It there was time, he didn't say.

“Don’t forget to be at the gate before dark,” Adar
said as he left. “If you’re late, you won't get out till morning.” Adar was
going to have a look at the town hall while Jorad found a healer; he had recruited
Xarda and Karn to come with him. He had said that his plan was to look around,
but Jorad knew that Adar would go for the tablet tonight if he could. With the
Festival of Stars, the town hall would be locked up and it might be their best
chance to break in.

Tere warned them all that they’d better avoid trouble
before he and Tarner disappeared. Jorad was hesitant to let them go without
following. He was glad that Xarda and Karn had accompanied Adar because he
didn’t trust the truce to hold if Tere found Adar alone.

Soret tugged him towards a street vendor, the smell of
sweet scones was enticing and his stomach churned with hunger. It had been a
long time since they’d had a decent meal.

“That just leaves us,” Leron said with a smile for a
passing woman. She was twice Leron’s age, but his smile was as if she were
years younger. The woman returned it while Wes looked on in admiration.

The last thing that kid needs is to pick up habits
from Leron,
Jorad thought as they purchased some scones. Jorad bit into
his. The warm sweet bread tasted better than anything he remembered having in
awhile.

“We’ll catch up to you later.” Jorad said to the
others as he pulled Soret away. Leron nodded, but Wes didn’t appear to hear
them. He’d just spotted a group of women and his jaw had dropped. Jorad smiled,
no doubt, it was his first time experiencing the more revealing clothing city
women wore. Leron was a little more circumspect in his appreciation.

Soret covered her mouth. “Is that allowed? If a woman
dressed like that in Neberan, well, it wouldn’t be allowed. That’s what.”

Jorad shrugged. “Things are different here. Come on,
we need to hurry. Most places will close early because of the festival.” With a
final look at the women, Soret followed him further into town.

Bright ribbons of red and gold shaped stars hung from almost
everything. Women wore bows in their hair and Jorad even saw some of the men
wearing them. As he munched on his scone, the smell of cake coming from a
bakery distracted him. It had been months since he’d had a piece of real cake
and his mouth watered. He made a mental note to introduce Soret to it before
they left. He’d had what they called cake in Neberan, and it was no comparison
to the real thing.

It took a few attempts but they learned the name of a
healer and directions to the healer’s home. Jorad had to pay triple before he
convinced the old man to see him. It wasn't until Mirlan Ladama had the coins
that he let them enter. Mirlan didn’t have an office, as he normally made house
calls, so he led Jorad into the parlor to examine the burn.

Jorad just grunted when Mirlan asked how it had
happened once he’d removed his shirt. Raising an eyebrow, Mirlan used metal
tongs to remove several remaining pieces of his coat from the burned skin. Xarda
had been hesitant to remove the last pieces because they were embedded. Jorad
clamped his jaw shut and the yell of pain became more of a loud snarl. The
wound started to bleed and Mirlan covered it with salve and bandaged it up. The
salve had a cooling effect and the burned area was tingling but the pain had
lessened a bit.

Mirlan handed Jorad the jar of salve and instructed
him to apply it twice a day. Jorad tried to pay for it, but Mirlan wouldn’t
have it, saying the amount already paid more than covered the cost. Jorad
imagined Mirlan with a hole burned through his back as he followed Mirlan into
the living room where Soret and Mirlan’s daughter waited.

Sighing, Jorad picked up his gear and showed the
blaster to Mirlan. He couldn’t leave without a warning, even if it went
unheeded.

“This is a blaster. It shoots fire and can rip a melon-sized
hole in a man. I got this burn when somebody tried to kill me with it. Zecarani
isn’t safe. An army with these weapons is about to attack. You should take
everyone you know and run.”

“That’s quite a claim.” Mirlan eyed the blaster.
“Who’s going to attack? I’ve heard that Ou Qui have been spotted outside the
city.”

“Not Ou Qui, but it is an army that can move without
detection.” Jorad was determined not to mention the Hunwei. Maybe if he had
Adar’s bag, he would have tried. “They’re close.”

“We’re telling the truth.” Soret said. He was glad she
hadn't mentioned the Hunwei and assumed she had noticed that he was staying
away from their name. He held the door for Soret and followed her into the
street.

“Thanks for the warning,” Mirlan said, looking more
distrustful by the moment. “Enjoy the festival.” He slammed the door and locked
it.

Jorad stared at the door and wished there were
something more he could do. Most wouldn't believe until they saw the Hunwei for
themselves. By then it would be too late to run.

They stopped to make some purchases, glad to find a
few stores still open. Jorad picked up a new coat to replace the one that had
been destroyed when he'd been hit with the blaster. He'd also bought a pack and
coat for Soret, gloves and clothes for both of them, a length of rope, and
other supplies. Before settling on some clothes that suited her, Soret examined
several dresses like those they had seen worn by the women earlier. When she
muttered “scandalous” under her breath, he hid a smile. The styles in Zecarani
were downright modest compared to other places.

Jorad's nose was being assaulted by all sorts of
delicious smells from street vendors as they walked toward the center of town
where the festival was located. If he wasn't careful, he would eat too many
sweets and regret it for the rest of the night.

When they turned the corner and entered the festival,
he wondered if it was a celebration or a riot. Everywhere he looked, there was
chaos. Along with several impromptu boxing matches, there were entertainers
juggling, musicians playing, and many people dancing. Children ran through the
crowds with paper stars on strings dangling behind them. There were so many
musical instruments being played at once that he couldn’t discern any
particular tune. Men, women, and children were dancing in every available
place.

Jorad had just set his pack and blaster next to a
brick wall when a pretty woman ran up to him, grabbed his hand, and pulled him
out into the dancing. Soret was laughing as the woman grabbed his other hand
and started spinning in circles around him, which was quite a feat considering
the sword poking up over his shoulder. He tried to keep up with her the best he
could, but he felt his face turning red. Dancing with his sword was awkward. He
glanced at Soret who waved.

The next time he saw her was beside him, a young man
had dragged her out into the crowd as well.

Jorad stumbled because he was trying to see if his
gear was still where he had left it. A big smile danced across the woman's face
and she cackled with glee. She wore a blouse colored with red, yellow, green,
and blue. Her white dress ended just above her knees. The paint on her face was
wild and crazy, obscuring her identity. He would have had a difficult time
picking her out from a crowd if she removed the makeup.

Apparently, the song they’d been dancing to ended
because the woman threw her body into him and he found himself catching her as
she went for a dip. Jorad couldn’t tell a difference in the noise, but
everybody else had stopped as well. He brought the woman back to her feet and
she planted a kiss full on his mouth before running away giggling. The man that
Soret had been dancing with went in for a kiss too, but she turned her head and
he got her cheek. Looking disappointed but mischievous, he disappeared as well.

Jorad took Soret by the hand—the others around them
were pairing up and he wanted to avoid being dragged in again—and led her to
their gear. She was disappointed; clearly, she’d been expecting a dance. He was
willing; he just wanted somebody to watch their stuff.