by Dan Decker
Chapter 8
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. Jorad couldn’t blame her for her anger and confusion. 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.
“I can't come with you,” Soret said.
“I don’t know if I can convince Adar to wait any longer,” Jorad said. “He's adamant about getting to Zecarani as fast as possible.”
“He wants to get that weapon or whatever, right?” Soret asked, she 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.”
“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 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.
“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?
“That’s not an answer.”
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.
“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. 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. 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.”
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 the 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 sweating as bad as Jorad by half. 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.