by Dan Decker
“You’re cutting this one close, Jake,” Shannon said in my ear. “Beltran will be here any minute.”
I looked at my watch. “Almost exactly two minutes and thirty seconds from now.” I kept my voice quiet enough that I wondered if she’d been able to hear me.
The room was silent, and I waited ten precious seconds, counting in my mind as I did, looking for any sign he was lying in wait for me. He had probably picked up my shiv, and while that wasn’t much, I had used it to disarm him, something I kept in mind as I walked to the front doors. I didn’t put it past him to have a hidden key on him for the handcuffs. My search hadn’t been that thorough.
The night was dark, and I couldn’t see Shannon outside.
“I’m at the door.” I paused. “Has anybody left the building?”
“No,” she said.
I looked over my shoulder, expecting he was about to come at me from behind, but there was nobody there. My heart pounded in my chest as I opened the door and stepped outside, checking my watch as I did.
One minute and fifty seconds. All was quiet.
And then mayhem filled the night.
An engine roared as tires squealed. Lights flipped on as a vehicle slammed up onto the curb and came right at me.
I fired without thinking, each bullet shattering the windshield or ripping into the hood of the engine. When the vehicle didn’t stop, I jumped out of the way as it crashed into the glass doors and continued on.
By that time Shannon was right beside me with her weapon out.
We both waited with our pistols pointed at the vehicle as it careened into the lobby, crashing though chairs and couches until it slammed into a far wall.
I expected the man to get out from the car, but things were once again still, no sound except the running engine.
“What happened upstairs?” Shannon demanded, looking angry at having missed it all.
Just as I opened my mouth, a car screeched to a halt several feet away. It was Beltran.
“Get in. Now.” His voice was elevated, but he wasn’t yelling.
As Shannon pulled open the rear passenger door and slid inside, I looked back and saw that the door of the crashed vehicle was open.
“Jake, hurry!” Shannon’s tone drew me back as I slid into the seat beside her while she scooted over to make room.
The door wasn’t even shut before we sped away. As I looked back, I wasn’t surprised to see my captor get out of the driver’s side of his vehicle. He watched us depart with a small frown on his face.
“Did you get it, Jake?” Beltran asked, a tension in his voice that was unusual.
I hesitated as the man disappeared from view when we turned. “Yeah, I got it.” Beltran relaxed visibly and said nothing more for the rest of the drive, leaving me to wonder who had almost killed me.
War of the Fathers
Adar Rahid and his son Jorad have been on the run for fifteen years, chased by servants of Adar’s father who are intent on finding and killing Adar. Even while a fugitive, Adar continues to search for the secrets of their forefathers because he fervently believes that an ancient alien race known as the Hunwei are about to attack.
When Adar stumbles upon large cloaked creatures in the woods, he determines that the Hunwei have returned and that drastic action needs to be taken.
Just as Adar and Jorad are leaving town to seek out an ancient weapon, men sent from Adar’s father show up to kill him.
Readers are taken on an adventure as the Hunwei attack and a father and son struggle to find a way to fight back in this tale of epic fantasy and science fiction. This action-packed story is the first volume in the War of the Fathers series.
Prologue
TWO YEARS BEFORE THE SEVERING
“Melyah take my eyes!” Rend Rahid shifted on the loose terrain, uncertain if he could trust his vision as another ship departed from the valley below. He could feel heat from the glow of the engines, and the roar was deafening, forcing him to let go of his rifle so that he could shield his ears. The belly of the Hunwei destroyer that was capable of holding over five hundred people was soon overhead, and he resisted the urge to try to scoot deeper into the bushes where he was hiding. He'd spent several minutes picking his position so that he couldn't be seen from the air. If he'd messed up the selection of his hiding place, moving now wouldn't do him any good.
Out of instinct and old habit, Rend aimed his rifle at the ship, preparing to fire but the ship had already begun its ascent. After it was clear that the ship hadn't zeroed in on their position, he lowered his rifle. It was the tenth ship he'd seen leave during the last two hours. He and his team had arrived in the late hours of the evening, intending to raid one of the Hunwei encampments. They'd been hoping to rescue some of the captives but instead they were witnessing an unprecedented event. As he watched the ship disappear into the sky, he wondered how many captive men, women, and children it held.
The thought made him think of his youngest son. How many years had it been since little Lief had disappeared? He felt moisture forming in his eyes. He didn’t think about the rest. It had been long enough that he’d been able to accept the deaths of his wife and two other sons, but he’d never been able to put Lief’s memory to rest. Lief's body hadn’t been with the others, and there hadn’t been anybody left to answer questions.
Tira, who lay next to Rend, let out a sigh as the ship disappeared. She had pulled her brown hair into a ponytail to keep it out of the way. She'd refused to cut it short like many of the other women. Perhaps that was the reason why he'd been so drawn to her. Call Rend old fashioned, but he liked a woman with hair.
The others in their group murmured, and Rend resisted the urge to tell them to be quiet. The noise from the ships in the valley more than covered the noise they were making. One of the nearby metalmen—Rend hadn't bothered to learn its name—reported that this was happening all over the world. The Hunwei were leaving.
“It’s true then.” Tira leaned over, shifting her blaster so she could put her mouth to his ear. “We’ll live.” She was always cautious. That was part of why he loved her. It was hard enough to find a good woman when the world wasn't being torn apart by war. Most people didn't bother to form attachments these days. Rend couldn't blame them, given the present mortality rate of humanity. He'd fought his feelings for Tira for a long time before he'd succumbed.
“They’re quitting,” Rend whispered. In a way, he was almost disappointed. When he'd set out on this mission, he’d been convinced they wouldn’t survive. The rescue attempt had been a fool's errand from the beginning. Rather than cower in Rarbon waiting for the inevitable end, he'd decided to face it head on. The unfilled expectation left him baffled; surely, he’d prefer to live? He wasn't ready to give up on life.
Rend thought of his only living child Arile, who he'd left behind in Rarbon, the last remaining stronghold of their people. The hope that he'd had for her future had kept him fighting all these years. Once the hope had all but faded, he'd fought on still. He'd never have been able to live with himself if he hadn't. A man has to protect his own, even if he knows it's futile. He imagined the look of joy on his daughter's face when she saw him again, and it filled his heart with hope.
“The war’s over.” Tira’s breath felt warm and moist against his ear, then after a pause. “Some are saying we won.” The last statement held the hint of a question. Rend didn’t bother to answer. Tira knew the truth.
The others could no longer restrain themselves and broke into cries of gratitude. They left the forest where they'd been hiding and congregated in a little clearing. Rend could make out a prayer as an older woman he didn't know by name chanted “Praise Melyah.”
Rend held his breath, expecting the Hunwei to come. They didn't. Tira began tugging on his hand, and he let himself be pulled out with the others. He kept looking back down at the valley. There were still several ships, but they were preparing to leave as well.
Tira put her hand around his waist, and he realized that he�
��d have to make good on his promise to her now. He felt too old to be starting over. At the time, he hadn’t given it much thought. It had been impossible until today but had made Tira happy. Happiness had been in such small supply that he couldn't have possibly denied her.
There was a roar as another ship shot into the sky and even more voices joined the celebration. Rend was caught off guard as Tira embraced him. It was a struggle to get her off, but she stopped when she realized that he hadn’t been caught up in the moment. He touched her face to soothe her hurt look and gazed into the valley. The excitement of the others failed to touch him. Tira, sensing his mood, sobered a bit.
When the final ship lifted off the ground, the cheers became deafening. Nobody else seemed bothered by the fact that there had been little between them and death only a few hours before. Rend made out the word victory and shuddered as the call was taken up by others. Before long, it was on everybody’s lips.
He was reminded of the ocean surf pounding the beach. The last time he'd taken joy in the sound had been many years ago. Their world had changed shortly after that with the coming of the Hunwei.
The sun had just gone behind the clouds when he’d heard Lief shriek. Rend had looked up alarmed but relaxed when he noticed that the water had begun to wash away the small buildings Lief had been fashioning in the sand.
Rend had smiled down at his son. “Don’t worry, you can build again, let me help you.” He offered Lief a hand and pulled him back out of the surf. It wasn’t long before the others had joined in, the whole family came over to help, and Lief was soon laughing.
“Victory! Victory! Victory!” The call broke into his revelry, ripping away the memory, and it took several seconds before he could rejoin the present. Rend relaxed his grip when he realized he’d been crushing Tira’s hand. A glance her way showed she was too happy to notice. As he watched the last ship disappear, he couldn’t decide if he hoped that somewhere up there Lief was still alive or that he’d died that day as well. His words to Lief seemed to echo in his mind. Don’t worry you can build again. Rend didn't relish the idea of having to start anew, but he knew that he would. If only for Tira and Arile.
He didn’t raise his voice with the others, he knew better. This hadn’t been a victory. It wasn’t even an act of mercy. More than twenty years of fighting taught him that the Hunwei always had a reason for their actions, but he was at a loss to explain the sudden departure.
Part One:
Shadows of Bloodshed
1,192 YEARS SINCE THE SEVERING
Chapter 1
The Neberan town square had been decorated with every imaginable color. Strips of red cloth covered the ground before the sacred boulder where the couple had sworn their oaths to Veri—the local god—and then cut each other. The red strips represented blood and life. To Adar Rahid blood always represented death, and not because of a religious ceremony.
“Thing is, you look familiar,” Neare Paler said, his face barely visible in the setting sun. He'd approached Adar from behind while Adar had been watching the wedding celebration. Adar had chosen to ignore Neare's approach because he didn't like the man and had hoped that Neare would just move on.
Neare wiped a small amount of sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. The heat of the day was dissipating with the evening, and Adar welcomed the chill. Before long, it would become cold enough that most would head home. He'd stayed on the outskirts of the celebration for a reason. He wasn't big on social gatherings and had hoped to avoid speaking to anybody. He'd only come to check up on Jorad.
“Can’t quite recall from where,” Neare continued. “A poster perhaps?” He had a cup in hand that he looked ready to drop so he could grab the gaudy sword that hung from his belt. It wasn’t as fine of a sword as Neare supposed. Adar could see that without having to handle it, but no doubt, the blade was sharp.
Poster? Adar thought. That shouldn't have followed us here. He turned his full attention to Neare. As usual, Neare was dressed in clothing more suited for a big city than that of a small town like Neberan. His shirt alone had probably cost Neare half a gold piece, and his sword was the ugliest weapon that Adar had ever seen. Adar wondered how much Neare had paid for the travesty, but he wasn't worried about the threat Neare posed. Should Neare move to draw his sword, Adar could have his sword out of its sheath before Neare's was halfway. Adar wore his blade on his back in true Radim fashion, it wasn't his favorite weapon, but it wasn't as recognizable as his Radim sword.
Surely, Neare wasn't brazen enough to draw his sword at a wedding. If the rumors around town were true, he knew how to use it. Adar had almost been forced to learn firsthand when he'd come across Neare roughly evicting a man and his family. The spat had ended with Neare leaving for the mayor. Neare was a fool, perhaps a moderately dangerous one, but a fool nonetheless.
“Hear you’re doing a lot of business with Polaer recently,” Adar said, turning back to the celebration. He had figured that the rumors about Neare and Polaer's wife were just that, rumors. However, if Neare was going to imply accusations, Adar would make some of his own.
Neare’s face tightened, and it looked as though he was going to drop his cup. Adar kept his arms folded and resisted the urge to reach for his sword. If Neare reacted, it would be as good as an admission. Neare must have known the stories that were told of him. There was similar gossip about his son Erro.
Neare bared his teeth. “Hard to keep track. I’d have to ask one of my overseers.”
Adar didn't respond and scanned the crowd. Where was Jorad? Adar had come to observe Jorad and Soret in public, but to his chagrin, he hadn’t spotted them yet. The wedding and cutting—barbaric ritual that!—had taken place earlier in the afternoon and the celebration would carry on until late. Adar had noticed an angry look from Barc Tedenhel, Soret’s father, so perhaps he’d seen them running off.
Ah, the boy was like Adar at that age. Couldn’t keep his thoughts but on one thing. Nelion drifted to mind, and Adar reluctantly ignored her memory. He didn't want to let the pain touch him now. Not when he was exchanging barely veiled threats with Neare.
Adar felt a light touch on his arm, and he tensed as Ginne Haer hooked her arm around his. He chastised himself for being taken off his guard. He'd been so distracted by Neare that he'd forgotten to pay close attention to his surroundings. Melyah! That was something hard to do at a party anyway. Just another reason he avoided these things.
Why did she look so comfortable, hadn’t she noticed his reaction? Both of the people that he preferred to avoid at the celebration had converged on him at the same time. Part of him felt the fool for not playing along with Ginne's flirtations because of how attracted he was to her. The other part knew that she would only be trouble.
“Adar,” Ginne said. “It’s been too long.” Her eyes went back to Neare quick enough that Adar almost missed it. Her shoulder length blonde hair was twisted into braids with strands of red and purple ribbon interwoven. The smell of her perfume and the blue dress that accented her figure caused Adar to reconsider his decision regarding the woman. It reminded him of a desire that he hadn’t succumbed to in years.
“Has it?” Adar asked as he tried to think of a way to extricate himself without pushing her. There were rumors about Neare and Ginne as well. Probably true, Adar thought as he noted another look between the two.
“Merchant Haer,” Neare said, “I may need a new coat before winter, mine’s getting worn.” A fleeting frown crossed Ginne’s face. What was her game? It would have been amusing to watch these two go back and forth if Adar could figure out his part in it. Was he the bait or the goal? The bait, he decided. She was eying Neare way too much.
“Oh Neare,” Ginne said, “You’re always about business. Can’t you set it aside? It’s a party.”
“Indeed it is.” Neare took a gulp from his cup. “The most exciting cutting since Debie stabbed old Han, remember him squealing like a pig at slaughter?”
“Nothing like a good wedding to liven t
hings up.” Ginne moved closer to Adar but kept her eyes on Neare. “It’s rare the boy cries as well.”
“Bad sign that,” Neare said. “When the man cries it shows that he’s not ready. Too young for the knife, too young for marriage.”
“It’s cruel.” Adar shifted, but Ginne held him tight. “Brides and grooms cutting each other on their wedding day? Just encouraging trouble.”
“Bound by blood,” Neare said. “An outsider wouldn’t understand,”
“The sting of their love's blade,” Adar said, “will be remembered longer than the oath.”
“It’s not like that at all,” Ginne said. “A blood bind impresses the importance of marriage.”
“Doesn’t make a difference,” Adar said. “Neberan carries on like any other town. Blood oaths don’t change the heart.” Adar looked at Neare as he spoke. The meaning of his words hadn't been lost on Neare, who suppressed a scowl.
“They don’t,” Ginne said laughing; reminding Adar of a young girl’s laugh he’d heard earlier in the week. The girl had been flitting back and forth between several boys. That’s not how a woman of Ginne’s age should be acting, but perhaps he was being too harsh. It hadn’t been long since her husband had passed away and he knew how it took time to come back from something like that.
“Careful Adar,” Neare said, “sometimes you cause more trouble than you’re worth.” He left, headed towards a table covered with food.
“I’ve always found men like you to be worth the trouble they cause.” With a light but firm touch, Ginne brought Adar's face back to hers. “It’s been weeks since I saw you last.” Adar hesitated; she was taking this too far.
“Once. I came by once.” Friendliness had given her the wrong idea. Adar broke from her grip on his arm, but his actions hadn’t fazed her in the slightest. The time he’d been to her tailor shop, he’d left without ordering. He’d never expected her to take liberties when getting his measurements.
