War of the Fathers: War of the Fathers Universe: Volumes One - Three Box Set (War of the Fathers Series Box Set Book 1)

by Dan Decker

  “My leg.”

  “Which?”

  “The right.”

  Jorad carefully let go of the branches and examined the leg with his hands. He let out a quiet sigh when he determined there weren’t any breaks. Karn should be able to stand without a problem. Jorad looked around, expecting Tere to have come but he didn’t see the man.

  “Tere!” Jorad called. “I need help.”

  “I can get out,” Karn said, trying to roll onto his side. He was kept from doing so by the vegetation hanging over his body. Jorad held up as much as he could hold, allowing Karn to scramble out from underneath.

  “Be glad it was me and not Xarda who found you. She’d send you to the lowest level of the ninth fire for coming that close to death.”

  Karn made only a noncommittal grunt in response.

  Chapter 3

  Linel Liup paused and bit off a curse when the gravel crunched underneath her feet. At the same moment, there was loud cry from the bottom of the cliff below that cut through the late morning air, causing her to clench her fist.

  Those were her squad mates dying down there while she bumbled her way through the sagebrush.

  She looked at her foot and saw the rocks she had disturbed were the same deep red color as the dirt and had blended in. She had no excuse. If she’d been paying closer attention, she would have noticed the outlines and stepped around them.

  Confound it, she thought, I hear sword fighting coming from camp and all the sudden I’m rushing through the underbrush like a young girl.

  It wasn’t her first patrol, but it would be her first time seeing any type of action first hand, if the ringing of the swords were any indication of what was happening below.

  The guard who had been on duty at the top of the cliff was missing.

  Now was certainly not the best time to be traipsing through the underbrush like a recruit out on her first patrol. Something was happening, and Linel needed to be at her best.

  She felt her face redden when she turned to see if Veron Madder had noticed.

  Veron was looking straight ahead, down past the cliff. She squinted, the wrinkles in her face more pronounced than normal as if trying to catch a glimpse of what they were hearing even though they both knew the cliff was high enough to preclude a view until they looked over the edge. Veron didn’t appear to have heard Linel’s blunder.

  Linel let out a quiet sigh of relief and pulled several loose strands of hair from her face that she tucked behind her ear. She’d fix her hair later, once they’d figured out what was going on.

  A yell of retreat punctuated the fight, and Vernon scowled. The older woman’s curly black hair was cropped close to the side of her head and was a match for the black hilt of her Radim sword.

  Linel had always envied Vernon’s dark brown skin because she was able to hide far more easily. In an effort to better camouflage her own pale complexion, Linel had rubbed dark powder on her forehead and neck when she’d awoken. She’d also tied a brown handkerchief about her head, but it was no match for Veron’s natural features.

  There were now trickles of sweat trailing through Linel’s powdered skin, and she had to keep from reaching up to rub her cheek. The sun was barely up, and already she was going to need to apply a second coat if this kept up much longer.

  Veron signaled with her hand, indicating that they were going to quietly move down the hill to investigate.

  Linel blushed and couldn’t keep a grimace off her face. Veron had indeed noticed; otherwise, she wouldn’t have repeated the order she’d given when they’d first heard that something was amiss below.

  The repeat of the hand signal was as good as a biting curse. When things had settled down, Vernon would then take the opportunity to chastise Linel for her mistake.

  It was enough to make a woman want to pull out her hair.

  Peering closely at the ground for the next several steps, Linel let Vernon move into the lead.

  When they’d recognized that something was happening at camp, Linel’s first thought had been that several of the other women must be going through their sword forms, but as they had drawn closer, it had become apparent by the tempo of the fight and the accompanying sounds that something else was going on.

  Linel examined the ground as she took her next step, careful of anything that might make a sound should she step on it. The redness in her cheeks was going away, but it would be awhile before the sting of the memory had faded.

  Vernon was a stickler for following protocol. If she wanted, Vernon could send Linel to the whipping post without much to go on, such was Linel’s station.

  For now.

  Assuming Linel could learn to move without making noise.

  They hadn’t made it far before Vernon stopped and shook her head, taking several slow steps back while making a zigzag shape in the air with her hand.

  A viper. Why’d they have to stumble onto something like that now? Of all times.

  If Linel had been sent out with anybody other than Vernon, they would have rushed to the edge of the cliff to see what was happening and likely risked getting bitten.

  The viper was going to slow them down even more.

  Linel came to a stop while Vernon grabbed a stick from the ground and prodded the waxy brush to the side of her. Once she’d determined it was safe enough, she made her way forward.

  As Linel followed, she looked at the spot where Vernon had been standing. It took several seconds for her to see what it was that had made Vernon backtrack.

  There was a pale blue snakeskin on the ground. That wasn’t just any snake, no, that was a scor viper.

  Despite the musky heat of the morning sun, Linel’s blood ran cold, and she could feel goose bumps forming on her arms.

  The scor viper wasn’t even a one-step snake. It was said a woman would be dead before she felt the bite.

  Without realizing what she was doing, Linel brought her hand to her cheek and rubbed it. As soon as she did, she realized what she’d done. The smudges of the brown powder on her fingers had combined with her sweat, making a brown goop. She wiped it on the back of her pants. What she wouldn’t give for darker skin.

  They traveled the next thirty feet without incident. The sounds of fighting had dwindled while they’d moved and a quiet had settled over the hilltop.

  Linel had liked it better when she could hear the noise ahead, now that it was gone, the possibilities of what might have happened below danced around her mind. Had their camp come under attack from bandits?

  Thieves and their ilk usually avoided the Korew territories. It was a matter of pride for the Korew soldiers that they preferred to travel in the territories of the other armies.

  Linel almost snorted until she remembered where she was and what she was doing. Bandits know better than to mess with us, she thought, it’s common knowledge that the territories run by the men aren’t as well patrolled.

  The last time a robbery had happened along a road through Korew territory, the perpetrator had been captured and hung in the same day. As it turned out, he’d been from the other side of the Krauk Mountains and hadn’t known Korew territory was a dangerous place for a man like him.

  Veron signaled for Linel to stop, a panicked look on her face. It took Linel several seconds to figure out what was happening. Then, she heard it. A large group of people was headed their way.

  They both went for cover. Linel found herself behind a large kull bush. Its waxy blades formed a bunch that was about four feet in the air. The base was dense enough to hide her, provided she stayed low enough to the ground. Once she was in position, she belatedly thought about the scor viper and examined her surroundings to make sure there wasn’t one right beside her.

  When she saw she was in the clear, her breathing slowed until she saw the column of approaching people. She edged deeper below the bush but not so far she wasn’t able to make out what was happening through a gap in the foliage.

  There were four large men at the front of the group. She’d never
before seen people with this type of armor. It was black and appeared to be made from various plates that were seamlessly connected. It fit snugly to their bodies. The helmets covered their heads but left a place for their faces.

  She froze.

  Their skin was gray, and she couldn’t be certain at this distance, but their eyes appeared to be orange as well.

  Nine burning fires, she thought. Even though she’d been preparing all her life for the return of the Hunwei, she was having trouble believing her eyes. She glanced over at Veron, who was several feet away behind another bush. She too was peering at the oncoming group, the expression on her face a mixture of surprise and fear.

  The closer they got, the more certain Linel became. There could be no doubt. Through the gaps in their ranks, Linel could see that there were several captive Korew soldiers in between them. They weren’t close enough yet for Linel to distinguish who they were, but she could easily see they’d been stripped of their light armor and swords. The one at the front had blood running down the side of her head.

  It’s Carin! Linel thought. She could tell by her short cropped blond hair. Last night around the fire, Carin had been giving Linel a hard time about how she hadn’t chopped hers off in a similar fashion. Linel had smirked and wanted to say something about how men found her hair attractive but had refrained. Carin had a long scar down the side of her face that disfigured her to the point that it was probably a rare occurrence for her to catch the eye of a suitor.

  If Linel had spoken her mind, she might have found herself in a circle of her sisters with naught but a knife for protection as Carin danced around her.

  One by one, as they got closer, Linel recognized the others. When she noticed Captain Sherly Kancor, Linel swallowed and found herself blinking back tears. Sherly’s face was bruised, and blood dripped out of her nose.

  Linel clenched her fist. She didn’t know what the Hunwei would want with her fellow soldiers, but by Melyah, she wasn’t going to let the Hunwei have them. There were too many to fight, but if she ran, she could be to Rarbon by sunset. Veron could follow behind the Hunwei, leaving markings in trees and rocks so that Linel would know which way to bring the women she would fetch.

  There weren’t more than ten Hunwei, if she were to come back with a mounted platoon, they’d make good time and could catch them by the next morning.

  “Veron,” Linel whispered. “I’ll fetch help. You follow and leave behind a trail.

  “Careful girl.” Veron hissed. “Don’t move yet. We can’t let them know we’re here.”

  Linel glanced over at Veron and was surprised to see Veron hastily covering a smile, which seemed strange, but it didn’t bother Linel. People sometimes had strange reactions to stressful situations. Linel could sympathize.

  The last time she’d been at a funeral, it had been hard for her to quit giggling. She couldn’t explain why she’d felt that way and had felt ridiculous for every chuckle that she hadn’t been able to suppress.

  Veron had moved so her feet were underneath her as if she were ready to sprint away the moment the Hunwei had passed. If she wanted to be the one to run back for help, they would lose time. Linel was faster than Veron and had greater stamina. It would be better for Veron to follow the prisoners.

  Linel opened her mouth and was about to speak when she noticed how close the group had come. While they passed, she counted the numbers. Twelve Hunwei and ten Korew soldiers. The soldiers had been bound by a metal device Linel didn’t have a word for.

  The Hunwei had managed to capture all the women in the squad. The observation made Linel pause. None of her sisters had escaped, and the Hunwei hadn’t killed any of them.

  A chill ran from her neck and down her back when she looked closely at the Hunwei for signs of how the battle had affected them. Not only did she not find a wound on a single one of them, there wasn’t a scratch or a ding in their armor.

  When the Hunwei passed without finding them, Linel exhaled and flexed her back. She’d been curled over, and it was beginning to hurt.

  She’d been in such a hurry that she hadn’t given any thought to finding a comfortable position. It was a lucky thing the Hunwei hadn’t stopped.

  Linel turned towards Veron, intending to put forth her reasons why she should be the one to run back to Rarbon. A blade flashed through the air towards her, and she rolled out of the way.

  She came to her feet while removing her sword at the same time.

  “What in the nine fires are you doing?” Linel hissed.

  In response, Veron lunged forward and brought her sword down. Linel met the attack and frantically raced through her options. She and Veron had sparred countless times, and nine times out of ten, Veron usually won.

  This was different. They had always fought with practice swords, and Veron had never before tried to take off her head from behind.

  Linel met Veron’s next attack and was afraid the ring of their swords would bring the Hunwei back.

  “Bleeding Melyah!” Linel said. “What’s going on?” Veron still didn’t respond, and Linel noticed her superior officer had a broad smile on her face again. Things started to fit together. “You’re Kopal, aren’t you?”

  Linel lunged, bringing her first attack and wiping the smile of Veron’s smug face. “How daft are you? They’re not here to save us. You know that, right? None of our forebears ever even had a conversation with them because they refused to talk.” She punctuated each word of her last sentence with a strike. Her defiance had taken Veron off guard, and she backed up several steps.

  A few more feet back and Veron would walk right off the cliff.

  Veron smiled, meeting Linel’s attacks and bringing her own. Linel’s confidence faltered until she thought about how somebody needed to get back to Rarbon to spread the word.

  That was why Veron had attacked. She intended to keep this from getting back to Rarbon. The thought made Linel grip her sword tighter. She screamed out with her next lunge and Veron stepped back. One or two more like that and she’d walk right off.

  Veron looked over her shoulder, saw how close she was and pushed forward. “Are you afraid you can’t beat me in a fair fight? Have to get a cliff to do the hard part for you?”

  “I don’t fight fair with traitors.”

  “Put down your sword and swear an oath of fealty to me. It would be a shame for somebody with such raw potential to die so young. We cannot stop the Hunwei. The only thing we can do is submit.”

  Linel didn’t respond. Veron kept looking over Linel’s shoulder. Refusing to fall for it, Linel pressed on, bringing an attack as quick as she could after meeting one of Veron’s, but she wasn’t making any headway. Veron’s grin was becoming more infuriating by the moment.

  Linel stepped back, lowering her sword. “I’m not swearing an oath, but tell me what you’re thinking. I’ll listen, I’ll swear to that much.”

  “That’s better.” Veron lowered her sword and approached.

  Linel didn’t hesitate, she rushed forward, impaling Veron through the chest. The look of surprise on Veron’s face made a small part of Linel’s heart cringe in pain.

  When Veron tried to bring her sword up, Linel kicked it out of the way and walked Veron back to the cliff until she was at the edge. Linel twisted her sword, yanked it out and pushed Veron off the side.

  Veron’s scream as she fell seared Linel’s heart, but she turned. Without even pausing to clean her sword, she dashed away.

  Chapter 4

  A hawk circled overhead, making Jorad look up sharp while reaching for his blaster. When he saw that it was only a bird, he relaxed and instead pulled on the strap of his water skin, grabbing it as best he could with just one hand while his shoulder protested the movement. He took a long pull while watching the bird of prey circle high above.

  It was lucky there had been just the one clincher the night before. They were said to travel in packs of two or three, but one wasn’t unheard of. The memory made Jorad turn at any movement in the sky.
<
br />   Not a bad habit these days, considering. He wasn’t the only one to have noticed the hawk. The traveling party which had already been in a bad mood the day before had spiraled to a lower location.

  The fact that the clincher had been so far south in the first place nagged at Jorad, like an itch he couldn’t quite reach. He also hadn’t been able to puzzle out why Karn had been so paranoid in the first place. When Jorad had asked Karn about the camp’s layout, Karn hadn’t wanted to talk about it. The very mention of clinchers made him look to the sky.

  Jorad had pushed a bit further and got the man to admit he’d seen something when they’d been preparing camp, but he’d refused to say anything more than that.

  Rather than push further, Jorad had decided he’d ask Xarda about it. He assumed Karn had prior experience with the clinchers and this was the reason for the irrational way he’d approached the problem. Karn had faced down Hunwei, walked into Zecarani with Tere and Adar, not showing the slightest hesitation even though the Hunwei were coming. It was strange that the clinchers had got to him. There was a story here, and Jorad needed to know what it was. If he was going to put his faith in the man, he needed to be aware of his weaknesses.

  After the clincher had been dealt with, Jorad and Karn had split the refugees who’d come back and sent them to the other camps. They’d decided they were safe enough and had instructed the people to restart their fires but keep them smaller, even forming new fires to minimize the amount of freezing. It was the prudent thing to do since there might be other clinchers about. Karn had been hesitant about forming so many groups, but Jorad had insisted, and Xarda had backed him up.

  Jorad had ignored the grumbling of the refugees with greater patience than he might have otherwise, all the while encouraging everybody to huddle together as much as possible to stay warm.

  When they’d arrived at the last camp, they’d found the two men who’d been sent to warn the others arguing about putting out the fire, which had been burning brighter than ever.