by Dan Decker
The next came right on top of it and was followed by the another. By the time the count reached ten, all he knew was pain. It was all he’d ever known. All thought of anything else fled his mind as the time between the lashes seemed to stretch out, each an eternity of pain.
His eyes closed of their own accord and he slowly became aware of a dull, wordless scream he recognized as coming from him. The crowd was gone. The sun that had been beating upon his face was gone. Even the pole to which he grasped was gone.
Pain was all there was. He was pain.
Each lash came and went until it was over.
When the lashes stopped, the pain continued unabated. It was sometime before he recognized there wasn’t going to be another. Hands grabbed him from the side, a blade cut through the rope.
He would have fallen if two men hadn’t been holding him up on either side.
“You should have mentioned the wounds on your back,” the guard on the left whispered in his ear.
“Would it have done any good?” Jorad asked, his voice slurred and far away, sounding strange to his own ears.
“Fool,” whispered the other, “you poor fool.”
“Once your shirt ripped apart, he aimed for the uninjured places, but the damage was already done. You must have blacked out at the end.”
Jorad wasn’t sure of that, he remembered the pain quite well. With great effort, he pried open his eyes, as if reawakening to a new world. The pain was still there and would be for some time, but for the moment he was able to at least process some of what was going on around him.
As he looked at the crowd, some were still jeering, others were talking and laughing, ignorant or not caring of what he’d just experienced. There were others—only a few—who looked at him with understanding and maybe even pity.
Don’t give me your pity! He wanted to scream. I came to help, and this is what you do to me! He became aware of the fact that he was grasping for breath and tried to take control of it. Only with great effort was he able to calm himself.
Then he saw Abel. The man’s eyes glittered with amusement though his face was a stone. Jorad thought of how he had screamed during the whipping. Everybody had heard it, witnessed it.
Jorad wasn’t an expert in leadership, but as he saw the faces of the generals, he could tell they didn’t think highly of how he had responded. The soldiers in the crowd looked the same.
If it was going to be bad before, it just became a lot worse, he realized. He wanted to head over to Abel and give the man a pummeling, but he could barely move. Abel had orchestrated this, but Jorad would still need the man’s help. He couldn’t fight the Hunwei alone.
The man wanted to see Jorad suffer, but would he do what was in the best interest of Rarbon? That was the question he needed to answer. If Abel put Rarbon ahead of his own needs, perhaps they could work together.
Jorad growled as he stared back at Abel, understanding for the first time why Abel and his father had never been able to get along. Abel made it impossible.
He took a breath.
No, I must still give him the benefit of the doubt for a little while longer. If Abel did turn out to be an enemy, Jorad would have to destroy him.
Chapter 12
A tear streamed down Soret’s face as Xarda kept hold of her arm. The woman’s face was grim, but she hadn’t flinched once while the lashes had been administered. While it was evident Xarda felt some emotion while watching the event unfold, it wasn’t written all over her face in the way it was for Soret.
At least I’m not crying like a baby, she thought. One single tear is all. That’s something to celebrate. Soret had been unable to watch after the first few, looking at the ground, at Xarda, at Karn. Anywhere but at Jorad. His cries had been muffled, biting down on the icky leather the guards had shoved into his mouth.
If she was honest with herself—and it was hard to face the truth with the way the world was falling apart these days—a part of her had been happy to hear of his impending punishment the night before. It was what Jorad deserved after killing Gorew and Thon.
That feeling had fled when the beating had started, and while she hadn’t forgiven Jorad for what he’d done, she hadn’t found as much satisfaction in his punishment as she would have thought.
She shifted, touching the tablet in her pocket and going motionless. With everything else going on she’d almost forgotten it was there. She’d expected Tere would have been back for it by now. Surely, he’d have been able to track her down. The man had resources. He was well-known.
Nine burning fires, she thought. He represents the Rahar. If appearances were any judge, the Rahar was practically a king, most appeared to treat him as such. She’d looked for Tere last night at the Council meeting but had not seen him.
She’d have expected he would be with Abel today, but he was not. She hadn’t seen Tarner either. A man jostled her as he made his way through the crowd, brushing up against her as he did.
She confirmed the presence of the cool metal tablet by putting her hand into her pocket. Relief flooded through her. If somebody had been aware she had it, now would have been the ideal time to take it. She’d been distracted, conflicted with guilt and hatred.
It was difficult to not check to see if Karn or Xarda had noticed her actions. She forced herself to stare forward at the scene in front of her. Jorad’s shirt had been ripped to pieces, exposing the new wounds with the old.
“Melyah,” Xarda muttered. “He won’t be able to lie down for weeks.”
The two guards who had tied him to the pole cut him free, each grabbing a side to keep him from collapsing.
Jorad’s head perked up as if surprised it was over. The screaming had stopped near the end, and the crowd had watched the remaining lashes in silence.
Soret had looked up, thinking it was over, in time to see the final lash remove flesh and blood. Averting her eyes, she now regretted eating breakfast.
Both Karn and Xarda hadn’t looked away.
Jorad’s face was twisted as he looked out at the crowd. For a breathless moment, Soret thought he’d recognized her, but his eyes moved on by without stopping.
He killed Gorew and Thon, she reminded herself. There was a reason why she hadn’t gone to Jorad with what she’d known about Tere. It was no accident the tablet felt like it was burning a hole in the pocket of her coat.
In this new world, Soret had to look out for herself. Nobody else was going to do it. This was her first real step forward. Tere would be in her debt, both for alerting him to Jorad and for holding the tablet.
“The punishment is over,” Abel said. “As Jorad was punished for my son’s crimes, let us never speak of this again. It was just, but it wasn’t fair. Always remember that.” A low growl came from Jorad, but Abel pretended not to notice.
With a curt nod towards Abel, Drake hopped onto the platform. He nearly fell as he did but caught himself at the last moment. She was surprised the platform didn’t have stairs, but perhaps the Radim army didn’t see the need. Drake approached Jorad.
“The Council has accepted your claim,” Drake said to Jorad. “The first oath you’ll take is the oath of the Radim. If you’d been with us as a boy, we’d have administered the various segments to you at the appropriate time. Now, you will take them all at once. Raise your right arm and repeat after me.”
Jorad moved as if to follow his instructions but his arm faltered. Drake nodded at the guard on Jorad’s right who helped him into position.
“No,” Jorad said, yanking it free and going white with pain as he did. He took a step forward and with great effort brought up his arm of his own accord. Abel gave a small start that Soret doubted she would have noticed if she hadn’t glanced at the man to gauge his reaction.
Drake frowned as he spoke, his disagreement with the moment evident. Soret had kept a tally of the man’s votes the night before, and he’d voted against Jorad every time. How it must have bothered him to be the one to administer the oaths.
“I sw
ear loyalty to Rarbon,” Drake said, waiting for Jorad to repeat the words. He continued after Jorad had spoken. “To protect all within her walls who are not her enemy. To fight all her enemies to my last breath. To live honorably and virtuously all my life. To uphold virtue and self-restraint, eschewing lasciviousness and folly. Always will I obey valid orders from my superiors. Forever I will stand between war and the free people of Rarbon. My life is nothing unless given in service.”
Once Jorad had finished repeating the words, there was a smattering of stomping, but most the crowd remained silent.
One thing is sure, Soret thought, they don’t see him as a savior. They’d seen that stinky head Jorad continued to insist on brandishing as proof of the Hunwei invasion, but it just didn’t compare to the real thing. If he’d have asked for her opinion, she would have told him to stop using it, but he didn’t consult her on things like that.
And I don’t care if he doesn’t. The man could go to the nine burning fires for all she cared. And it would be no less than he deserved.
Drake’s frown deepened. “Now I will require the oath of a general.” He paused to let the words sink in, waiting longer than necessary. Was he hoping that something would keep this from happening? He glanced at Abel as if expecting Abel to speak, but all he received was an impatient look from the Rahar.
“I swear before Melyah that my life is not my own. It belongs to the Radim armies, it belongs to my Ghar, it belongs to my people, it belongs to Rarbon. As long as I have breath in my lungs, I will serve. My men before me, Rarbon before my army. As one we live, as one we fight.”
Drake didn’t pause in between as he had the last time. Once he was done, all eyes turned to Jorad. Soret expected him to trip up and miss a word or two, but he repeated it verbatim, something that most were clearly not expecting him to do considering the beating he’d just received.
Drake’s face was as expressionless as a stone when he spoke next. “General Rahid has taken the oaths and will now be presented with Napael army.” He paused, working his mouth for several seconds, searching for words. An evil smile appeared. “May he do a better job than the last General Rahid to lead this army.”
His final words were drowned out as the crowd stamped the ground in unison. It wasn’t until Xarda and Karn joined in that Soret realized the Radim soldiers were leading the movement. A chant followed that she couldn’t understand. It was soon on the lips of all the people.
“Rarbon musch lebel. Rarbon musch lebel.”
Xarda leaned over and whispered in Soret’s ears. “It’s the old language. It means Rarbon will stand.” She had to speak louder as the chant grew in volume and more people joined in. “If Adar did his job well, Jorad will know this is a token sign of support but not a full showing. He is yet to be proven. The people are showing their loyalty to Rarbon, implying they approve of this action for now.”
Soret nodded. “Can he be removed as general if they don’t like him.”
“Only by taking his head.”
Xarda joined in the chant once again. Just as Soret started to feel awkward because everybody was saying it but her. It finally stopped, and silence remained.
Soret turned to Xarda, but the woman put up a hand and shook her head.
As the crowd dispersed, Soret realized they were doing so quietly, not a person spoke or laughed. The movements were those of people cautious to not make much sound.
With a look back at Jorad, who stood on the platform studying the crowd, Soret followed Xarda. Whatever happened to the man now was of no concern to her.
She put a hand into her pocket, seeking reassurance the tablet was still there. Something about having it made her afraid that somebody would try to steal it when she wasn’t looking.
A man bumped into her as she held the tablet. She gave him a suspicious look, but he didn’t even make eye contact as he pushed his way through the crowd, jostling Xarda as he did.
Xarda looked annoyed but did nothing. Soret wondered if that was just because of the solemn occasion as they all parted from the grounds.
When they approached the Inner Wall—Xarda had explained to her earlier that was what everybody called it—the guards frowned. The man on the right made eye contact with Soret and his lip curled up in a silent snarl.
Soret looked away, wondering what that was all about. It was unlikely the man knew of her or her connection to Jorad. Perhaps he’d been looking at somebody else or maybe even looking through Soret. Whatever it was, Soret was glad when she glanced at the guard a moment later that he was no longer looking at her. And what added more to her relief he still had his lip curled up and was muttering under his breath.
It wasn’t about me, she thought. Did it have something to do with Jorad? Xarda hadn’t said as much, but judging by the lukewarm reception from members of the Council the night before, Jorad was not going to have an easy time with things.
She thought of the moment when she’d first heard him confirm he would make a claim and wondered if he still had the same determination. He’d never pretended it was going to be easy, but she was beginning to wonder if he’d underestimated the difficulty of his task.
The gate through the wall was more like a tunnel than anything else. When Soret had commented on this to Xarda when they passed this way earlier, she’d learned that the Inner Wall housed compartments for the soldiers. There wasn’t a space for everybody, but most of the generals kept their quarters within the Inner Wall.
She shook her head, wondering if she’d soon find herself living in the Inner Wall too. She hadn’t yet mentioned her desire to enlist, but now was as good a time as any.
After they were through the wall and out into the city on the other side, the press of the crowd wasn’t as bad, and Soret was able to walk beside Xarda. The period of silence seemed to be over, and Soret felt it was safe to speak.
“That went easier for Jorad than I expected,” Soret said.
Xarda arched an eyebrow. “Twenty lashes on top of an already painful back is not what I would describe as easy.”
Soret felt the blood rush to her face as she shook her head. “That’s not what I meant. I had expected he’d have a more difficult time convincing the Rarbon Council of his parentage and his right to make a claim. It’s surprising they swore him in as a member of the Radim and made him a general on the same day. Has that ever happened before?”
“It worries me that Abel has been so supportive of Jorad.” Xarda shook her head. “He has his reasons. In the end, I doubt Jorad will be happy for the support. We’re missing something, but I haven’t a clue what it is.” She glanced at Soret. “And you’re right. It’s never happened that a Rahid was sworn in and promoted to general the same day. His men aren’t going to like that.” She muttered something Soret couldn’t make out, it sounded like a lengthy curse. “The fool has his work cut out for him. If he had told me of his intentions to mention that Adar had sworn him in as a Radim, I’d have told him to keep quiet about it. His back was already in a bad place before his punishment. His men aren’t going to be merciful to him.”
“What do you mean?”
“It is a tradition for the men to haze their new general.” She snorted. “There’s a long history of other generals instigating actions against new generals as well. Jorad will be lucky to survive the week.”
Fear for his safety welled up in her chest, but she pushed it away by thinking of Gorew and Thon. My relationship with Jorad is a means to an end. Nothing more.
Soret hesitated, unsure what to say next. Would Xarda laugh at her request? Tell her she was a fool?
“Xarda, I want to join the Radim.”
A smirk crossed Xarda’s lips as she glanced at Soret. “No, you don’t.”
“I do. I need to learn to fight—”
“Even if you were a good candidate, which you’re not, I’d still tell you not to join. Jorad needs you. You’re part of the reason he’s making a claim. If something were to happen to you—”
“I’ll never for
give him for what he did to Gorew and Thon.” There was more heat in Soret’s voice than she intended. She hadn’t meant to say anything but the words had just slipped out. Her hand moved towards her mouth as if to cover the shock but she kept it down.
I’ve done nothing wrong. I’ve only spoken the truth.
“A fine sentiment but one of which you don’t have the luxury. Jorad means more to this cause than you. If he knows you’ve enlisted, he’ll become concerned about your welfare. It will distract him.”
“I do not belong to him.” Soret’s words were clipped. “I don’t want him. I was never his to protect. And I never will be.”
Xarda frowned while taking a deep breath. This wasn’t going at all the way Soret had thought it would. She had thought that if anybody understood her position, it would be Xarda.
“You’ve been misleading him.” Xarda’s voice was flat.
Soret tried not to think about the tablet bouncing along in the pocket of her coat.
If you had any idea…
“It’s not like that,” Soret said. “I’ve been keeping my distance since Zecarani, and he knows it. You’re wrong to think otherwise.”
That wasn’t a fair statement, and Soret knew it. These words earned another arched eyebrow from Xarda, but she didn’t challenge the assertion.
“Give it a few days,” Xarda said. “Think it over. If you’re still determined, perhaps then.”
Soret nodded to end the conversation, and they walked in silence back to Xarda’s rooms. As they went, Soret considered slipping away but decided she wanted to make sure she had her pack with her when she enlisted. If she were to disappear now, she’d never be able to find Xarda’s place.
When they arrived at Xarda’s building, Soret once again marveled at its size. It would have been the most impressive building Soret had ever seen if it wasn’t placed in the middle of Rarbon, amidst a vast number of buildings that were far larger and grander.
