War of the Fathers (6 page)

Soret was a step ahead of Jorad and the street was
crowded with people so he had to strain to hear her words. The dust kicked up
from all the traffic was sticking to his sweaty face. Using the back of his
hand, he wiped off his forehead. It came away grimy and he cleaned it on his
pants. He wanted to take a few minutes to rest and calm down but couldn't
afford the luxury.

His blood was still racing from the encounter with
Erro. If Erro tried something again, Jorad would give him the beating he
deserved, whether the town guard was there or not. He didn’t know what else to
say to Soret about the Hunwei. At least Erro’s poster hadn’t seemed to faze her.

 Jorad couldn’t blame her for her anger and confusion
about the Hunwei though. Ruder hadn’t been able to convince him, Jorad had
needed to see it for himself. He wished that he had evidence to show her but
all he could do was tell her what he'd seen.

“Save your breath, I’m not coming with you,” Soret
said when he caught up to her. “Not for something like this.”

“Once I leave, I won’t be coming back, Adar is adamant
about getting to Zecarani as fast as possible.”

“He wants to get that weapon or whatever, right?”
Soret looked like she was thinking of slapping him. “Why the rush now? It
sounds like he’s known about it for years.”

“It won’t be the first time we’ve tried, but this time
is different. He’s not going to leave without it now that the Hunwei are back.”

“And where will you go after that?”

“I don’t know,” he lied. Much as Jorad hated to admit
it, Adar’s logic made sense. If there was even a slim chance that something in
the Portal could help, it was worth Jorad making the effort to access it.
Assuming of course that Rarbon hadn't already been taken over by the Hunwei.

As they passed Timor’s tanner shop, Jorad noticed an
armed man that he didn’t recognize. The man was a bit shorter than most but he
looked like he knew how to fight. A merchant guard or a mercenary? It was rare
to have mercenaries in Neberan. Merchant guards were more common. There wasn’t
much unusual about the man’s clothes but the sword slung on his back was out of
place. Swords were rare and those that had them wore their swords at their
sides.

Jorad studied the weapon for as long as he dared. It
looked familiar, even with the hilt wrapped in red cloth. He tried to make the
connection but it didn’t come. He was too focused on trying to make Soret see
reason.

The man regarded him with cold eyes. A mercenary then.

“You going to answer my question?” Soret asked. “Or
are you going to continue holding back?”

“Yeah,” Jorad said. “Sorry, that man just looks
familiar.”

“He's just some merchant guard. What will you do after
Zecarani?”

 “I'm not sure.” A mercenary in town was rare but not
alarming and the man was alone. How much harm could he cause?

Soret growled. “Why won’t you tell me?”

Jorad remembered now, it shouldn’t have taken him so
long to make the connection. Adar’s Radim sword was similar to the one the
mercenary wore. It had been a quick look, it wasn’t wise to show too much
interest in an armed man, but the longer Jorad thought the more certain he
became. The hilt of the man’s sword had been wrapped on purpose to cover the
insignia of his Radim army.

Adar rarely carried his Radim sword because it was too
distinctive. Jorad walked faster. What was a Radim doing here and why was he
trying to pass himself off as a mercenary? Was he searching for them?

Jorad felt a chill run through his body.

The Radim had come for Adar. The last thing they
needed now was to have the Radim tracking them while they were trying to find a
way to fight the Hunwei.

“Jorad, why are you speeding up?” Soret demanded. They
were almost to her father’s shop and Jorad didn’t have any more time to
convince her. Adar was in danger.

“I need to find Adar. I’ll tell you everything later.”

The look on her face showed she didn’t believe him,
but she’d have to wait. Jorad burst into a run once he turned the corner. He
had only seen one Radim soldier, but he was positive that there would be more.
Adar had been one of the best swordsmen in Rarbon and they'd know that it would
take a group to bring him in. Jorad couldn't let that happen.

Several minutes later Jorad charged into the common room
of the boarding house, his sides heaving as he gasped for breath. Adar wasn’t
there and their room upstairs was empty as well. Jorad scribbled a note and set
it on Adar’s bed. Downstairs he found Mac, the stable boy, laughing with Harri
the cook.

“Have either of you seen Adar?” Jorad asked, still out
of breath. He was wheezing.

“Not since he left for old man Koope’s place earlier,”
Mac said. He smelled of manure and had a loose piece of straw in his hair.
Harri's large apron covered her girth and was smeared with flour and grease.
There were several burn marks as well. In Jorad's experience it was rare for a
cook to be slim. “He said something about getting money he was owed. What’s
wrong? You’re covered with sweat! What’s got you so worked up?” Mac edged away
from Harri. They’d been standing to close for just casual conversation. Was
something going on between them? Jorad pushed the thought away. He didn't care.

He wiped the sweat from his face. He would have
removed his coat if he didn't need it to cover the daggers he kept hidden.
“What’s he doing at the Koope place?”

“Just told ya,” Mac said.

Jorad nodded. Mac had just told him, and he took
several breaths and ended up in a fit of coughing.

“Look,” Harri said, “you need to have a talk with
Adar. He tried to convince me that the Hunwei are planning an attack on
Neberan. He even mentioned he was going to talk to the mayor about it. Has he
lost it? I mean seriously, Hunwei?”

With a final cough, Jorad was able to breathe a bit
more normally and moved to the door.

“The Hunwei are coming, but I gotta go. If Adar
returns make sure he sees the note I left upstairs.” He could see Harri’s
expression of disbelief but didn’t have time to continue to convince her.

Jorad ran out the door and smacked into Soret, sending
her flying to the ground.

“Ouch!” she cried. That wasn’t going to help her mood.

Jorad jumped to her side and tried to help her up but
she ignored him as she stood. She did her best to brush off her pants between
glares. It reminded him of a look he'd received from Hira the other night and
made him feel like she wanted to skin him and use it for a rug.

“Why the hurry?” Soret demanded. She was sweating and
covered in dust, but she wasn't nearly as sweaty as him. He was surprised she'd
run after him. Maybe she had more feelings for him than he thought. He felt a
flash of hope but pushed it away. Adar was in danger; he didn't have time for
this. “You leaving right now?”

“I’ve got to find Adar. I don't have time to explain.”

“Well, I’m not done with you. We need to talk.” Soret
looked even more stubborn than she had before. Of all the times!

Jorad headed to the stable. “Adar’s in danger. Come if
you want, but I’ve gotta find him.” Soret looked angrier than she had all day
but she followed him to the barn.

Tere examined the field and wondered if they were
chasing Lous’ daydreams again. The rows of corn were shoulder high and unless
he missed his guess, some would be ready to harvest soon. Men were working
between the rows, a few of whom had stopped and were watching them. Tere guided
his horse over to the path that led through the middle of the field to the
farmhouse. He was torn between caution and wanting to verify Lous’ claim so
they could get back to Neberan.

Lous was adamant that Adar had passed by minutes
before Tere had arrived. If Tarner had seen him as well, then Tere would have
been a bit more trusting. He was beginning to regret his decision to come this
way because Jorad had been staring at him. Had Jorad figured out who he was and
what he was up to?

Tere slowed when he saw a group of men chatting in
front of a two story stone house. In the back were a stone corral and a large
barn. Somewhere nearby a cow mooed and he caught a scent of the farm animals on
the wind. It was more of a breeze really, and it felt good against the heat of
the day. He zeroed in on the back of a man a short distance ahead.

Is that Adar?
Tere asked himself. The height
seemed right, but it was hard to tell since Tere sat on a horse. Adar’s build
looked much the same that it had fifteen years ago. The sword on his back
wasn’t Radim, but that wasn’t a surprise. People would ask questions; too many
knew a Radim sword when they saw one.

Adar took a hoe from another of the workers and Tere
relaxed, he hadn’t recognized them and was preparing to join the other laborers
in the field. The closer they got, the more convinced Tere became that it was
Adar. He dismounted, motioning for Lous and Tarner to do the same.

After all these years, Tere had found him.

Something was wrong. The conversation among the group
of men just ahead had stopped.

He knows we’re here
, Tere thought. He couldn’t
explain what it was about the way that Adar stood or the casual way that he was
holding the hoe, but he knew he was right. Tere wrapped his fingers around the
hilt of his sword. The hoe, despite the blade intended for weeding, would not keep
Adar from using it as a staff. How had Tere missed that?

With a staff, Adar might have a chance of winning. Why
hadn’t Tere brought more men? He’d thought to spare others the trouble of the
trip, but now it turned out that they would have been useful indeed.

The other men backed away as Adar turned to face them.

“You’re as arrogant as before,” Tere said, he felt his
breath quicken as he spoke. The fury that had been dead for so long, flared to
new life in a way that was unlike anything he’d felt before. His frustration of
years wasted searching for this man, watching his daughter grow from a
distance, and feeling the distance widen between him and his wife reached a
focal point. The cause of all that stood before him.

Tarner and Lous were visible to either side but Tere
didn’t take his eyes off Adar. Tere’s mind flashed back to the night when he’d
found Adar bent over Nelion’s body and Tere felt his anger burn brighter
wishing that at that moment he’d slain Adar. It would have been a simple thing
to do and Adar would never have expected it. With a shake of his head, Tere
returned to the present and focused on Adar who stood almost a full head over
him.

“How’ve you been old friend?” Adar asked. “Hope the
years have been kind.” He planted the hoe in the ground and used it for support.
Pretending he wasn't threatened by Tere and the others as they advanced, ready
to attack.

“Adar you’re under arrest for the murder of Nelion and
for kidnapping Jorad.” Tere’s voice quavered as he spoke and he felt a stab of
remorse as he remembered the bond the two once had shared. The friendship was
gone now and in its place ashes swirled.

“You know I didn’t kill Nelion,” Adar said. “How can a
man be charged with kidnapping his own child?”

“If you don’t submit,” Lous said. “We’ll kill you and
return with Jorad.”

“You’ve come to kill me and take my son?” Adar asked
softly. “Did Abel send you or somebody else?”

“We’re here at his direction,” Tarner replied, there
was no emotion in his voice. That man could be cold. “The Rarbon Council
stripped your title and accomplishments from you and you’ve been declared a
murderer and traitor. We can bring you back alive or your head in a sack, the
choice is yours.” Tarner’s voice reminded Tere that he needed to relax or he
risked losing control. If he did, Adar would provoke him and take advantage.
Tere spread his feet, took a breath and focused on the blade of his sword, and
pictured it piercing Adar’s chest.

Adar nodded and brought his hoe to a defensive
position, which he had still been holding casually despite their advance. The
fool was still cocky. The other workers were starting to gather around at a
safe distance, but none of them looked like they intended to help Adar.

“You’re out of practice,” Tere said. “Fifteen years
ago you might have taken us with a staff, but not today.”

Adar waited, looking as calm as a lake of undisturbed
water.

Tere charged forward with Tarner and Lous closing from
either side.

Adar ran to the right putting Tarner between himself
and the others. Tere cursed. The movement was not that of a man in his mid
forties, it reminded him of a much younger man. Feinting with the handle of the
hoe, Adar brought the blade in between Tarner’s legs and then pulled Tarner
down as he howled in pain. Tere rushed to get in front of Tarner to keep Adar
from bringing the hoe crashing into his head.

“Get up!” Tere yelled. It was already going badly and
they needed Tarner or this would be over too soon. Lous circled around as Adar
attacked, the hoe swirling fast enough that Tere had a hard time following its
movement.

Tere wasn't sure how long it lasted, but as the
fighting continued, he became covered in sweat and his breathing was labored.
Adar hadn’t lost a step as he defended their attacks and brought his own. He
too was covered in sweat but his breathing was normal.

Tere knew he couldn't do this for much longer as he
moved forward slashing with his sword. Adar was faster, dodging his attack and
bringing the blade of the hoe around and into Tere’s feet, it hooked a foot and
knocked Tere off balance. The next thing he knew he was flying forward right
into Lous’ sword who just managed to move it out of the way so that the sword
only sliced Tere's left side instead of skewering him. He felt a stabbing pain
in his back and crashed to the ground with his breath knocked out of him.

The sounds of the fight continued to play out behind
him. He rolled until he was far enough away that he felt safe getting to his
feet.

As Tere moved forward towards the men, there was a cry
from behind. He turned to see Jorad charging him. As he brought up his sword
and prepared for the attack, he reminded himself to be careful. He wouldn’t be
given a chance to explain if he killed Rahar Abel’s grandson.

Jorad’s howl of outrage grew louder as he spun his
sword while he charged, at the last moment Jorad slid to the ground. Out of
instinct Tere jumped forward and over Jorad. By the time he scrambled up, Jorad
was already on his feet charging again. Tere didn’t have a chance to prepare a
defense and ducked to keep his head.

He fought off Jorad’s next attacks but wasn’t able to
get in any attacks of his own. From the beginning, he knew he was going to
lose. Fighting Jorad was like fighting a younger version of Adar. Tere
continued to parry the attacks blow after blow, but he knew he was getting too
tired. Jorad had managed to score several hits. The cuts on Tere's arms were
bleeding and he continued to collect more.

Despite the fury of Jorad’s initial attack, it was
clear that he spent a lot of time with his sword, and once the fight had
commenced the anger was barely noticeable as Jorad went through the motions
he’d done many times before when sparring with Adar.

It was a strange feeling now as Tere realized that he
was going to die. After many years of struggling to keep going, to do his duty
to Rarbon and his family, he was going to find peace. He thought about his wife
as he deflected Jorad’s next attack. It had been his actions that had pushed
her into the arms of another man. He hadn’t paid enough attention to her on
those infrequent trips home. Maybe his death would be a release for her as
well.

As he struggled to throw off the next attack, he
thought about Sharu. She’d become a woman that he could be proud of, despite
the fact that he hardly knew her. Pride filled him as he thought that although
she was very different from him, she would carry on his legacy of service. The last
time he had seen her she was in the Radim uniform of Korew army.

He didn’t see how he tripped, but Jorad was already
charging as he fell to his knees. With a scream, Jorad prepared for a final
swing as Tere brought his sword up knowing that he could not block it and
closed his eyes.

Peace at last.

Tere felt the sword rushing toward his throat. There
was the clank of metal hitting metal and then the sword slid into Tere’s neck.

He felt a slight pain and then nothing.

Why am I still breathing?
Tere opened his eyes
and looked up into the astonished eyes of Jorad. The blade of Adar’s hoe had
snagged the sword when Jorad had made the final pounce for the kill.

“You can’t kill him,” Adar said, sweat and blood
running down his face.

Despite the peace that Tere had felt as he embraced
death, he gripped his sword.
Does Adar want to kill me himself?

There wasn’t time to figure it out because Tarner took
advantage of the distraction to attack Adar, who wasn't able to completely
dodge the strike, Tarner’s sword glanced off Adar’s head, leaving a small cut
and taking with it the tip of his ear.

Adar howled, yanking his hoe back while pulling Jorad’s
sword away from Tere’s neck, and attacked Tarner with a ferocity that he had
not yet displayed.

Tere watched Jorad carefully as he wiped his blade and
sheathed it. There was no sense in encouraging Jorad to attack again. If his
sword was put away, Jorad wouldn't attack him. He hoped.

Tarner and Adar continued their dance of death, and it
was clear that Adar was going to win. Lous was getting to his feet and held his
sword at his side as he watched Tarner and Adar maneuver in and out looking for
an opening against the other. The sun flashed off the metal of Tarner’s sword.
The ringing of it hitting the hard wood of the hoe filled the afternoon air.

“It’s over!” Tere called. Adar dodged a thrust from
Tarner and stepped away as he watched for what Tarner would do. The frustration
on Tarner’s face was evident as he stepped backward. It was the most emotion
he’d shown today. Adar gave Tere an unreadable look.

“Are you all mad?” a young woman asked as she
dismounted from a horse a safe distance away. Tere recognized her as the woman
who had been angry with Jorad. Tere wondered if this was his wife. Things would
get a lot more complicated if it turned out she was pregnant with his child. She
sniffed, like she was the teacher that had just discovered misbehaving students
and Tere had to keep from rolling his eyes.