Roads of the Righteous and the Rotten (Order of Fire Book 1) Read Free

tell him it was all a joke. But no joke came.
    “Where are you off to next?” Barek asked. “After you return from Gara?”
    “The east,” Zar answered with a smile. “I’ll probably start with Lindoth. There’s always some sort of scandal going on there and I’m sure someone will be in need of a good sword.”
    “Without a doubt,” Barek agreed.
    Zar looked about the smithy. Stacks of weapons rolled in hides were spread over the tables, handles and steel points sticking out occasionally from the skins. “So, when are these weapons expected in the big city?”
    “Two weeks.”
    “Very well. I can enjoy this place for a good while longer before it’s time to head out.” Zar lifted his scabbard’s leather strap from his shoulder and placed his sword before Barek. “I was hoping you could give your old blade a good sharpening.” He drew the sword from its sheath. “I’m afraid it’s been banged up a bit.”
    Zar handed over the sword, handle first, holding the weapon by its long, broad blade in both his hands. Barek sucked his teeth and shook his head as he eyed the blade’s countless nicks, then continued examining the handle and finally its pommel. The round, steel knob shined brilliantly in the light, and Barek rubbed his hand over it as a warm and nostalgic smile passed lazily over his lips. He gripped his hand around the black, leather-wrapped hilt and swayed the weapon back and forth, controlling it with one hand. He added his other hand to the weapon, just below the other, and swung slowly a few times at the air, measuring the weapon’s weight and balance.
    “Of course,” Barek replied, laying the sword across the table. “I’ll get her all fixed up for you.” He rose from the bench. “After I get some of that food you were telling me about. Is it goat ‘n greens?”
    “That it is, old man.”
    Barek chuckled, giving Zar a few hearty pats on the back. “Then tell me, lad, what are we still doing here?”
     
    °
     
    There was nothing more beautiful than a spring snow in the meadow. The climate wasn’t cold enough for the snow to stick, and most of the flakes melted in the air, so that flurries fell thick from the clouds and thinned out until they finally disappeared just above one’s head.
    Being on that road with Shahla—riding their mounts under an enchanting spring snow—took Zar’s mind back to when he first came to the mainreach from the east. It was then that they both roamed the meadow for hours, hunted the forest for game, and at the end of their day came to lie on the soft grass by the brook, drifting asleep to the sound of the water. They hadn’t been in that place together for years, but even now as they cantered along the high road toward the forest it seemed as if no time had passed. They were once again together, dauntless and carefree.
    The two slowed their mounts as they neared the edge of the forest, and Shahla, commanding Dalya to halt, gripped the mare’s mane and sprung up to a squat in her saddle. She rose to her feet and balanced herself on the mare’s back. “Do you remember when we used to hunt here?” she said, stretching her arms out in the wind.
    “Aye,” Zar replied with a grin. “I remember you couldn’t hit a goat if it was ten paces ahead of you.” He let out a laugh.
    “That was years ago,” Shahla interrupted the laughter. “I’m a fine shot now.”
    Zar perked up, propping himself up and kneeling in Asha’s saddle. “Your father tells me the same.” He scanned the area. He was dying to see how much her aim had improved. He sincerely hoped she’d gotten better. If it wasn’t for him and Barek, they certainly would’ve gone hungry in those days.
    Zar’s eyes wandered toward the tree line, gazing through the spring foliage speckled with snow. He searched the bank of trees with their newly grown leaves and the tiny lou shrubs that had sprouted and hugged tightly around their trunks. It wasn’t long before Zar found a target. “Do