by Dan Decker
“What are they going to do with the men?” Wes asked.
“Kill them.”
Wes shook his head. Jorad couldn’t tell if Wes didn’t believe him or didn’t want to believe him.
“What do they want with the women and children?”
“I don’t know.” Probably food, Jorad thought. Some of the stories said that the Hunwei took people and raised them the same way that men did cows but he refrained from saying this aloud. Wes had probably heard the same thing, but he didn’t need to be reminded of the gruesome details.
Jorad continued to scan the crowd for Soret.
“There she is.” Wes pointed towards a group being herded into a ship on the other side of the square. Jorad looked where Wes pointed and recognized Carli Bruno. On more than one occasion, he’d mistaken her for Soret from behind. He’d learn to recognize the subtle difference in the shape of Carli's head, the cut of her hair, and her slightly thinner figure.
“That’s Carli.” He watched as she boarded the ship, wishing he were able to do something to help her.
“Hey, you’re right, that is her.”
Jorad hadn’t seen one Hunwei corpse the whole evening, and he subconsciously massaged his shoulder as he remembered what it had been like crashing into the Hunwei at the guardhouse. If he had known he was charging into a boulder, he wouldn’t have been so cavalier.
“If you find Soret, what will you do?”
Jorad continued to scan the crowd as he didn’t answer.
“You can’t just go down there, it's suicide!”
Jorad turned to Wes. “If I find her, don’t follow. Go south. I think the Hunwei have already been there, so it should be safer.”
Despite Jorad’s suicidal plan, the remaining women and children were herded onto the ships before he could find her. The men were agitated as the last ship prepared to leave. They had a good idea of what was coming next. During the boarding process, several had tried to escape, and they’d been shot. In the early morning light, Jorad noticed that a shot from a blaster distorted the air, leaving a trail behind as it went.
“We should go,” Wes said, a slight quaver in his voice.
Jorad didn’t answer. He wasn't able to tear his eyes away from the scene unfolding before him. As the last ship took to the air, the Hunwei began firing into the men. The sound of screaming mixed with the blasts of those infernal weapons.
Wes pulled on Jorad’s arm, but he stayed in place. Where was Adar? Before he realized what he was doing, Jorad had stood and unsheathed his sword. He’d been so busy looking for Soret that he hadn't given his father much thought. Adar wouldn’t have let himself be taken, would he? He might not have had a choice. There was no fighting those weapons.
“Stop!”
Jorad recognized Adar’s voice and spun around, half expecting that Wes had managed to mimic his father, but it was indeed his father. He was covered in blood, his face was blackened, and his eyes were gleaming in the early morning light. A man ready to kill or willing to die, without hesitation.
“Glad to see you,” Adar said. “Soret’s safe. I sent her out with Karn first thing. They’re with Xarda by now.”
The relief that washed over Jorad filled him with shame. Men were dying, good men, and innocent women and children had been taken captive. He turned back to the massacre. “We can’t just leave them.”
“It’s that or go and die with them,” Adar said. “And if you’re stupid enough to try, I’ll knock you out. We don’t have time to waste; we still need to stop for our stuff at the boarding house. You're needed in Rarbon; a stand here will do nothing.”
“It’s too late.” Jorad’s voice cracked. “I should have gone to Rarbon months ago.”
“Maybe, but do you have a better plan?”
“Hide,” Wes said. “Now!”
They ducked. One of the men from the crowd was running their way. Jorad didn’t recognize him, but the man had seen them and was yelling and waving as he ran in their direction. His head disappeared into a mist of blood and pieces of skull.
Adar was right, they couldn't do anything. As Jorad turned his back to the massacre, he caught a glimpse of Vigorock glinting with the first light of day. If only they had more time, Jorad was sure they could have figured the tower out; perhaps the trip to Rarbon wouldn’t have been necessary if they had.
“Let’s go,” Jorad said.
“About bleeding time.” Wes was already several steps ahead.
Chapter 17
Several beads of sweat rolled into Jorad's eyes, and he blinked, trying to get the stinging to go away. He wrapped several fingers of the hand he was using to hold his bow around the arrow he kept ready so that he could free up his other hand to wipe his forehead. While the bow wasn't much use with the Hunwei, they'd had a close call with a group of marauding bandits several days ago. The bandits hadn't been expecting a group of survivors from Neberan to be so well armed.
Jorad's hand came away sweaty, but he was still perspiring, and several minutes later sweat ran into his eyes again. As he blinked through the sweat, he examined an opening in the forest to the meadow ahead. He almost wished that winter would come a little bit sooner. The heat was miserable, and his heavy backpack, sword, and arrow quiver weren't helping matters. The sweat drizzled down his back, and his shirt was already wet. The forest was muggy, and there wasn't as much as a breeze to help him cool down.
The heat was enough to drive a man insane. He could smell his body odor and wished that they had time for such luxuries as baths.
The clearing ahead was large enough that they'd stopped to observe it before crossing. There hadn't been anything alarming to keep them from crossing, but the sheer openness of it gave them pause. Jorad wondered if it would ever be safe again to travel on the road. They were making good time to Zecarani considering that they'd covered most of the distance traveling through the woods. It had almost been a week since the attack on Neberan, and they were a little less than halfway to Zecarani.
“Nice day for a walk through the fire,” Leron said. Jorad wasn't sure if he was referring to the heat or the new reality they faced. Either way, Jorad agreed. It could have been a nice day if it weren't for both those things.
Leron’s grim face matched what Jorad was feeling, but Jorad cringed at how loud Leron's voice sounded in the quiet of the forest. If Adar had been here, he would have admonished Leron for speaking too loudly. Jorad considered reminding Leron but thought better of it. He'd already warned Leron earlier this morning. Maybe one of these times, Jorad would take Adar's place in the front patrol. Adar would shut Leron up quick.
After their frantic flight from Neberan, they’d broken into three traveling groups. Adar and Karn ahead, Tere and Tarner behind, the rest were with Jorad in between. Tere and Adar were taking great pains to avoid one another, and both appeared to be more concerned about putting distance between the two of them than anything else. While their arrangement had several benefits, it had one main purpose. If they came across any Hunwei, it increased the chances that one of the parties would be able to escape. Everybody agreed that getting word of the attack to Rarbon was more important than anything else.
“Best enjoy it,” Wes whispered cheerfully. He was sitting with his back to a large fallen log, and his eyes were closed. “Could be our last.”
“Quiet!” Xarda hissed, her voice barely above a whisper. She was sitting on the same log and leaned down to smack him. It hadn't been gentle, but Wes took it in stride. He'd taken to Xarda and wasn’t usually more than several steps away from her. Jorad had overheard Karn teasing her about Wes yesterday, and she hadn't taken it well. In retrospect, her irritation was quite comical. At the time, dusk had just been setting in, and Jorad had been more concerned about surviving through the night.
“Don’t talk like that.” Xarda didn’t look at Soret who was sitting a little further down on the log. She didn’t need to; everybody knew it had been for Soret’s benefit. Nobody else in the group had lost anyone in the attack.
&n
bsp; Jorad went to Soret. She was staring at nothing and had a faraway look on her face. He touched her arm. “You ok?”
Soret had her hair pulled back into a ponytail, and there was a sheen of sweat on her face with a smudge of dirt underneath her chin. It didn't appear she'd heard the exchange between Wes and Xarda. The daggers she now wore on her belt comforted Jorad. It wouldn't be much good against the Hunwei, but out here Hunwei were only one of the dangerous things they might come across. It had taken some convincing to get her to take his daggers, and it hadn't been until he'd gotten Xarda involved in the conversation that Soret had relented. He'd felt bad for pushing her so hard, but it had been the right thing to do. She couldn't be left unarmed.
“I'm making it,” she said, her eyes coming into focus as she looked at him.
Soret hadn’t said much since Neberan and Jorad still hadn't been able to get the whole story from her. Based on what little he'd pieced together from her and the others, he assumed she'd witnessed the destruction of her home and the deaths of her parents. Sometime after that, she'd been taken captive and had been rescued by Adar.
At night, when Jorad wasn't on guard duty, he could sometimes hear her sobbing as she lay beside him. He didn’t know what to do or say. He had tried several times to comfort her, but the words all came out wrong. Eventually, he'd given up and kept by her side as much as possible, hoping that was enough.
“There hasn’t been any sign of pursuit for days,” Leron said again, his voice closer to a whisper this time. “We got away,”
“They haven’t cared to chase us.” Jorad wiped his brow again. Confounded sweat.
The clearing had opened suddenly when they had reached the top of an incline; the uphill hike was part of the reason why they'd waited so long at the clearing. Several of the others had needed the rest but it was past time to get going. They’d been staring at it now for close to fifteen minutes. It was wide enough that they would be exposed for a quarter mile while they crossed. If the Hunwei were looking for survivors, Jorad didn't relish being on the field when one of their ships flew by overhead.
The grass in the meadow was waist high and the forest at the other end was much thicker than the trees currently around them. A whole army of Ou Qui could be hiding in either the grass or the trees. It was possible that they could walk right by the Ou Qui and never know it. Jorad looked for bushes that looked too bushy, but nothing stood out.
“Think Adar and Tere might be willing to let up a bit?” Wes asked. “It’s been three days since we’ve seen a ship.”
“No,” Jorad said, a touch of annoyance in his voice. Wes just didn't get it. This was their new way of life now. “And you better not start slacking either.” He waved his hand to gather everybody's attention. The only person that didn't look his way was Lous. That man was strange. Lous rarely spoke. Jorad had overheard Tere muttering about Lous' crazy imagination more than once.
“Anyway, I think we’re safe to move.” Jorad shifted his pack and moved his sword to a more comfortable position. “I'll go first. Wait till I've made it across.” He gave Soret what he hoped was a confident smile. “See ya soon.”
Jorad took several steps into the meadow and stopped. He could hear those behind him holding their breath, waiting for something to attack him. When nothing happened, he started moving again, careful to keep his bow in front of him with the arrow at the ready. The long grass that reached his elbows was doing little to ease his mind and as he made his way across, he looked for signs of life.
Even though he couldn't find tracks indicating that Adar and Karn had passed this way, Jorad was certain they'd crossed here. Adar tended to move in a straight line until something got in his way and the meadow was too wide to waste time by going around. When Jorad had made it to the other side without any problems, he gave the signal for the others to follow.
He scanned the tree line and recognized one of Adar’s markings on a pine tree at eye level. He was right, they'd come this way. The small carving was of a cross, with a slash underneath. It was a warning of danger ahead and an instruction to wait. Cursing under his breath, he brought up his bow and arrow, putting a small amount of tension on the string.
The others were already too far into the clearing to signal a return to the other side. Leron was almost too him, the fool had run the whole way. Jorad would have preferred Leron to stick with them, but it was too late now.
As Jorad's level of alertness increased, he noticed that there were tracks on the ground that didn't belong to Adar or Karn; he knew their boot prints well enough by now he could tell at a glance. As he examined them more closely, he determined that there were a great number of them. Because the boot print wasn't one he recognized, he guessed that a band of Ou Qui had been through here recently. Jorad wished he had noticed what Ruder's track had looked like. He'd been so enthralled with the man's disguise that he had noticed little else.
As he tried to guess how many Ou Qui could be hiding nearby, he considered taking his sword out and stabbing it into the ground. Adar had known a little about and was able to explain Ruder's actions when he'd stabbed both of his short swords into the ground in the woods of Neberan. The Ou Qui were serious about their customs. It was apparently a great crime among their people to kill a person who'd disarmed in that fashion. Jorad thought better of it and decided he would rather have his sword in hand, in the event they needed to flee.
The air here was a bit cooler because of the thicker foliage. A small breeze rustled the branches of the tree up ahead and he turned and regarded it suspiciously. If the other tree limbs around him wouldn't have started to quiver from the breeze at the same time, he would have signaled the others to stop while he investigated.
Leron approached. “I wasn’t supposed to come on this trip, you know.”
Jorad noticed with chagrin that Leron was barely sweating. It made Jorad want to give Leron some of the rations Jorad was carrying. “Look alive, there's Ou Qui about.” Jorad continued to keep his eyes peeled, afraid something would happen to the people in the meadow.
“I took my father’s place when he broke his foot.” Leron held his bow up, but didn't look alarmed. “People are counting on you to make a claim, you know that, right? Most believe that Adar fled to protect you and always meant to send you back. They know your father would never abandon them.”
Jorad wasn't surprised to hear this, but it increased his anxiety. He'd already been feeling a lot of pressure because he'd assumed this already, but there was a big difference between knowing and assuming. It felt as though the large weight pressing down had just doubled.
“Protect me from what?” Jorad asked, his curiosity getting the best of him. Xarda was walking beside Soret, whispering something into her ear. He was glad that Xarda was trying to comfort her, but he wished they would hurry.
Leron looked surprised. “You don’t already know? Abel. His jealousy is the stuff of legends! Some say he murdered your mother. Many fear for the life of Cor.”
People thought Jorad's grandfather had killed his mother? Certainly, that couldn’t be true. Adar hadn't talked about Abel much, but Jorad had never heard anything like this.
“Cor?” Jorad asked as he turned toward a bird that took off from the branches of a nearby tree. He didn't get a good look but was certain that the bird was a crow. He exhaled and tried to relax. Worry would cause him to make mistakes.
“Abel’s other son.”
That got Jorad’s attention. “Adar has a brother?”
“Abel remarried shortly after you guys left.”
Jorad felt a surge of hope. Was there somebody else who could make a claim if something happened to him? The hope was fleeting, though. Cor couldn't possibly be old enough. “What is he, fifteen?”
“Fourteen.”
It would be five years before Cor was able to make a claim but it was good to know there was somebody else if Jorad failed. The only problem was that the war would be over by the time Cor was old enough.
Lous was the fi
rst to join them, looking as aloof as ever. He was closely followed by the others. Jorad pointed out Adar's warning. While they waited, Xarda and Lous both drew their swords. Wes pulled out a dagger, and Soret got closer to Jorad.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Jorad mumbled so only she could hear. She didn’t say anything. Her eyes were big with fear. He let go of the arrow and patted her on the shoulder. “It’ll be okay.” As soon as he said it, he wished he hadn’t. It wouldn’t ever be okay again.
When Tere and Tarner caught up to them a few minutes later, they noticed Adar's warning carved into the tree. Without speaking, they drew their weapons as well.
When the silence started to become overwhelming, Jorad had to restrain from pacing. The others had gravitated to hiding places among the thick foliage, and he didn’t want to be the one to give away their position. Xarda was several feet away, crouching beside a bush and she was looking more concerned by the moment. Jorad knew her well enough now to know that it was for Karn.
It was almost an hour later, and Jorad had been about to suggest that he and Tere scout ahead when Adar and Karn appeared. Adar was covered with sweat, but Jorad knew that he'd be able to go for hours still. There was a smudge of blood on Adar's face, but otherwise, he looked the way he had when they'd started earlier in the morning. Karn was covered with perspiration as well and looked a touch more fatigued than Adar.
“We're smack dab in the middle of several traveling bands of Ou Qui,” Adar said in answer to the questions he expected. “They’re moving the same direction as us and traveling fast. Their bands are much larger than normal; otherwise, we wouldn’t have noticed they were here. We’ll need to travel more closely together.”
Soret paled and Wes muttered something about wanting to keep both his ears. The others took the news with stoic resolve. The Ou Qui were skilled warriors, and there were many stories of their exploits.
Tere’s face tightened when he looked at Adar, but he kept silent. Jorad wasn't certain if Tere was bothered because Adar had assumed leadership of their group or if it was Tere's hatred that was keeping him agitated.