The door slammed before I could respond. Locks turned quickly afterward.
I turned around wearing a frown. Myra and Zadok wore expressions that matched. I handed the shoes over to Zadok. “C’mon. Let’s get your clothes and get out of here.”
We skirted around the cobbler’s place, moving through an alley to Main Street in order to approach the tailor from the front. The hard jingle of the bell tied to the door announced our arrival as we hurried inside Sivan’s place.
Damaris appeared, smiling.
“Perfect timing,” she said, coming around the counter. “Father just finished Myra’s trousers.” She came over to grab Myra’s hands. “Come this way and I’ll help you change so we can determine what the final adjustments will be.”
“No.” I glanced out the window at the front of the shop, looking for potential trouble. “I’m sorry, but we won’t have time for that.”
She tilted her head. “But it will only take a few moments, and it is crucial to ensure the clothes fit properly.”
“They’ll just have to do as is.” I moved away from the window. “We’re in a hurry.”
I tried to keep my expression neutral, but I couldn’t hide the tone in my voice. Damaris let go of Myra’s hand. “Just give me a moment, and I’ll be right back.”
As she ducked inside the back, I turned to Zadok. “Get on those socks and boots while you have the chance.”
He ran over to a chair and hurried along. When finished, he stood and took a few steps, almost awkwardly—like a boy unused to wearing footwear.
“Well?” I asked.
“They’re more comfortable than I thought they’d be. Though they’re also a little big.”
“You’ll grow into them.”
Damaris reappeared carrying a bundle in her arms that she plopped onto the counter. “Father is wrapping up your boy’s clothes. He’ll be out shortly.”
I walked over and began pulling the agreed upon amount from my money pouch when a voice called out from the back. “Here is the other bundle. I wish I could persuade you to stay sir. A better fit is—” An older man with a bald pate and neatly trimmed salt and pepper beard came out.
I paused in my counting and looked up at his worried expression. Damaris turned around and frowned.
“What’s wrong, Father?”
Sivan cleared his throat. “I wish you would have told me who this man was, Damaris.”
“What does it matter?”
“Because I’m a soldier. Or was. You won’t do business with me either, right?” I grumbled, growing ever more tired of this routine.
Sivan shook his head. “No. I understand what it means to be in the army. I fought in the Byzan wars in my youth. I also lost a son in the early years of the Geneshan conflict.”
I felt a tug in my chest for him. I had lost a lot of friends, but I couldn’t imagine losing a son. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“What is it then?” asked Damaris.
“Sered came by earlier when you were sweeping out back. This is the man who struck Jareb and stole his property.”
“News travels faster than I remember,” I muttered.
Damaris frowned.
Sivan nodded to my children. “I’m assuming they are the property in question.”
I nodded. “I stole nothing, though I could have. I paid more than their contracts called for. Things only got physical when he refused to release my daughter.”
Sivan tightened his jaw. “I’m not surprised.” He looked over his daughter’s shoulder at the pile of coins resting on the counter. “That should cover the cost of materials. No other payment is necessary.” He handed over the other package.
“Father,” Damaris snapped in a hushed voice. “We can’t afford to give our goods away.”
He reached under the counter and came up with a wool blanket, throwing it on top of the pile. “We don’t have the money to make our next payment to the bank anyway, Damaris. If we’re going to lose the place. Might as well do something good first.”
Damaris stared, dumbfounded, looking like she didn’t know how bad things were for them.
“Sir, I—” I started.
“Just say thank you. Then take it and go. Jareb will be here soon if what I heard from Sered was true. Come on, now isn’t the time for pride.”
I nodded. “Thank you. Both of you,” I added, looking toward Damaris.
I picked up the packages and left, quickly hugging the shadows.
The sun was rapidly descending, its remaining light showed hues of dark purple and red. More legitimate places of business like the tailor started closing up for the day, while those places dependent upon the nightlife prepared to entice everyone coming in after a hard day in the fields.
We passed a youth changing the lettering on the sign outside of the local theater, detailing the start time for the show tonight.
Women appeared in the doorway at one of the newer pleasure houses. They had dressed themselves in exotic paints and powders, while wearing as little as possible, despite the cool weather. They suffered for their trade.
I wondered how they got away with presenting themselves like that. Before I left for the army, the women in the town, as well as the more religious men, would have never put up with that sort of spectacle on the streets. It was one thing to have a whorehouse. All towns did. It was another thing to flaunt one so openly to all who passed.
Watching how the women advertised their services made me shake my head in disgust.
Then I imagined Lasha having to do the same thing for Myra and Zadok. My disgust shifted to sorrow.
The debates Ava and I had so many times before ran through my mind. I still had no idea why many of those women did what they did. Sure, some were just out for money, but more than ever I understood some were not.
And even if they were out for money, who was I to judge them?
I tore my gaze away from the women as I needed to be alert. I felt the stares from people as we walked and I stared right back at several. Few had the courtesy to appear embarrassed by their gawking. At this point, everyone knew who I was. I just hoped that no one would decide to find their courage and act on their own to win over some influence with Jareb before he got into town.
Shouting and cursing from half a dozen voices roared inside a saloon just up ahead. The doors to the place swung open with such force they slapped against the outside walls. A body flew into the street as if hurled. With the door open, the clamor rose even higher in volume and I wondered if someone was about to get lynched. A man similar in size and appearance to the one who’d been thrown into the street exited the saloon, walking over to the first. Their blond hair was instantly recognizable.
The yelling died down and the doors closed. I came to a halt, dumbfounded.
Ira climbed to his feet. He looked almost like he was ready to fight his brother as he dusted himself off. “What did you go and do that for?”
“To save you,” said Dekar, in his calm, even voice.
“From what? We could have taken those fools easily. By the gods, I could have probably handled them without you.”
“Maybe. But I don’t need you getting injured. You said you were only going to have one quick drink.”
“So, I had two more. Three mugs of ale ain’t nowhere near drunk. You know that. Besides,” Ira inclined his head back at the saloon, “they’re the ones that started it. I only—”
By that point, I had recovered enough to interrupt. “By the gods.”
They both whipped their heads in my direction.
A wide grin formed on Ira’s face. He slapped his brother in the arm. “And you were worried we wouldn’t find him.”
We all embraced. It had only been a little over a day since I last saw them, but it felt like half a lifetime considering all that had happened to me since. The stress and worry of what would happen next eased in the presence of friends.
“What are you doing here? I thought we said we’d meet up in a month or so.”
I frowned as Ira’s smile faded. “Things ain’t what they were, Ty.” He paused and eyed his brother. “Dek’s wife thought him dead and remarried. She saw us and more or less told us to go back to being dead.” He spat. “Man, the stuff they’re saying about us and what we did in the army. It’s like they have no idea what war’s like or what we all gave up for them.” He spat again. “All that crap from Damanhur followed us too. That didn’t help things.”
I sighed. “Yeah, things aren’t any better here.”
Ira nodded back to the saloon. “We figured out as much. We came here looking for you after we stopped at your farm and learned someone else owned the place now.” He chuckled. “I take you were the cause for him being all hunched over and groaning.”
I winced, feeling bad for having taken down a man who really had done nothing wrong.
Dekar raised his head upward and closed his eyes. “They all threw us a big send off in support when we left Tamra. They told us to make Turine proud. The women had shouted they’d treat us like heroes when we returned.” He gritted his teeth. “Adwa had told me in private I already was a hero in her eyes and nothing would ever change that.” He swore. “It was all a bunch of crap. They’ve forgotten everything. They’ve forgotten us.”
That took me aback. Dekar must have really been hurting inside. The man wasn’t known to say a whole lot about himself. Actually, he wasn’t known to say a whole lot, period.
“Just a bunch of forgotten soldiers, Ty. If we had stayed in Tamra that’s all we’d ever be.” Ira paused. “Well, if they didn’t get sick of our company and kill us first.”
“Anyway,” said Dekar, composing himself. He nodded to Myra and Zadok. “We figured you might be dealing with similar stuff and considering you have a family to look after, we thought you might need a hand if trouble started.”
At a time when it felt like most of the world had turned against me, it nearly brought tears to my eyes when I thought about them considering my situation in spite of the stuff they both had dealt with.
“We’ve been hearing something about a fight between you and some guy named Jareb,” said Ira. “That’s what I was discussing with them folks in the tavern when Dek thought to intervene.”
That name jarred me away from my reunion among friends. “I’ll explain later, but yeah, things could get ugly. We really need to get out of town.”
Ira pointed. “We still got the wagon with us over there.”
“Where do we need to pick up Lasha?” asked Dekar. I saw him eyeing the kids.
I cleared the lump from my throat. “Nowhere. She’s dead.”
His eyes widened. He put a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Tyrus.”
“Me too.”
A meaningful “I’m sorry” offered more support to someone grieving over the loss of a loved one than some long speech or thin philosophical phrase ever would. Unfortunately, too many people hadn’t yet reached that conclusion. I was especially thankful then for Dekar being smarter than most people.
“Let’s just get out of here.” I nodded to my kids. “I’m taking with me the only things I can’t leave behind.”
* * *
Ira and Dekar led the way through town toward the wagon. Knowing we had a quicker way to travel than simply huffing it on foot, did wonders for my mood. Only Molak knew how far we’d have to go to find a place like Treetown.
Good old Captain Nehab sure had it made.
Zadok eased up beside me. “Pa, these are the people you were telling us about last night?”
“Some of them. They were in my unit.”
“I imagined them to be different.”
I raised an eyebrow. “How so?”
“I don’t know. Less dirty and more heroic.”
“They aren’t any less dirty than I was before we fell in the creek. And I’m no more heroic than them.”
“That’s not true.”
“Why not?”
Myra muttered from behind, “Because then Zadok would have to admit that all those crazy things he’s imagined you doing in the war were wrong. If dragons weren’t just some mythical tale, he’d be convinced you had slain one.”
“Shut up,” Zadok hissed.
I rested a free hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I hate to tell you this, son, but I’m not a hero.” I felt him deflate. “That isn’t to say I haven’t met my fair share of them.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, they aren’t the sort of people you might have heard from fairy tales though. Each and every one of them had their own sad tale to tell. The heroes I knew dug ditches and sharpened stakes until their hands bled in order to quickly fortify a position against the enemy, only to die from some infection brought on by the broken blisters. The heroes I knew stayed up for almost two days straight, keeping watch and protecting their injured friends, only to later die of a bug bite. The heroes I knew stepped in front of a sword stroke so that their friend might live, not because of the promise of glory or the possibility of having songs written about them.”
Zadok frowned. “But those can’t be heroes. They all died.”
“So?”
“Heroes are supposed to win.”
“No. Heroes are just supposed to do the right thing.”
“Hey, Ty. If you’re done being all philosophical with your boy, we got trouble.”
I looked up. Ira had paused at the corner of a building. Dekar stood next to him. I slowed.
“What is it?”
“Look for yourself. Friends of yours?”
I peered around the side of the building. Illuminated by the evening sun, two men waited at the wagon, looking over the supplies strapped in the back. Both were of medium height and build. Other than the long, thin beard worn by the man on the right, neither stood out.
“Never seen them before, but that doesn’t mean anything. There are few people I know here anymore.”
Dekar grunted. “Think they might be working for that Jareb fellow?”
“It’s possible.”
“If so,” said Ira. “They hadn’t learned much from last time. They only sent two to bring you in.”
“They could just be there to keep an eye out and slow us down in case we met up with you,” said Dekar.
“How would they know we planned to meet up with Tyrus?”
Dekar gave his brother a look. “You weren’t exactly discreet in that saloon.”
“Oh, yeah. Well, all we’re doing is making their life easier by waiting around like this.”
“You’re right,” I said. “Let’s go.”
Ira led the way, carrying a bagful of attitude that would have weighed most people down. “Can I help you two dung heaps with something?”
The men wheeled, neither making a move for a weapon. They didn’t seem worried. That behavior confirmed Dekar’s assumption that their purpose had not been to apprehend us so much as to keep an eye on the wagon.
“Hey, I’m talking to you two idiots,” Ira said in the hopes of eliciting a response.
With each step we took forward, they shuffled two back. The man with the beard shifted his glance away from us and to a spot behind him on his left.
“Ira. Bushes,” I said.
We all drew our swords, forgetting about the two men who retreated in a run. Ten people emerged from the bushes. Another attempted to stay hidden. I recognized three of them right away—Jareb and his two friends. All looked pretty bad off, Amalek on a crutch. Jareb’s face was swollen and darkened with bruises. A bandage covered half of it.
The others I hadn’t seen before though I could piece them out.
The man to the far right wearing the king’s crest on his chest was obviously the sheriff. The two men next to him probably deputies. The small man behind those three didn’t have a weapon. But that didn’t stop him from thinking himself something special by the way he carried himself, thrusting out his dimpled chin. I guessed him to be the mayor.
The others gravita
ted more toward Jareb, watching his movements. Likely more men that worked for him. The last person, who realized hiding was useless by the way I stared at her, came out of the bushes. She carried no steel, and her fingers twisted and turned about themselves as her lips mumbled. She looked right at me, growing ever more frustrated as she did so.
I grinned at her and then Jareb who shot the mage a look. She shrugged, dumbfounded. It was obvious she had never come across anyone resistant to sorcery before. The fact that I didn’t even feel her attempts made me think she knew little more than a few parlor tricks. Because of that I wasn’t worried about her trying anything on Ira or Dekar. They had faced far worse.
I glanced over my shoulder at Myra and Zadok. I wasn’t sure if they had any experience with sorcery, but I doubted it mattered. Jareb wouldn’t waste any of his mage’s efforts on them.
We all stared at each other. Each side waited for the other to start things off.
I got tired of waiting. “Mayor? Sheriff?” I asked looking in the direction of the men I pegged. They focused on me. “Would one of you mind telling me what’s going on?”
The sheriff cleared his throat. “I’m gonna need you to put your sword down and disarm yourself.” He gestured to Dekar and Ira. “All of you.”
“That ain’t gonna happen,” said Ira.
“Shut up, Ira,” snapped Dekar. “Let Tyrus handle this.”
“Sorry, Sheriff. As my friend said, that’s not going to happen. I know everyone’s heard stories about the war and even about Damanhur, but none of you know the facts. We did nothing wrong.”
“That’s for me to decide,” piped up the mayor before shrinking back down.
The sheriff nodded. “What Mayor Rezub means is that your friends will be able to go free. However, you’ve got some things to answer for unrelated to what happened in Damanhur.” His eyes flicked to Jareb.
Jareb spat venom, shouting and jabbing the sword in his hand at me. I couldn’t make out much of what he said since his jaw and nose were so swollen.
Ira chuckled. “Gods, you did a number on him, Ty. Can’t understand a thing he’s saying.”
That shut Jareb up, but it just made him stare daggers at Ira as well. Ira returned the look with a wide grin. He lived for these sorts of moments.
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