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

meadow. Shahla was still a young girl and the boys from down the plain would always fight with her over hunting spots and horses. They’d told her since she never killed anything hunting, she didn’t need to be out there scaring off the game. Shahla, of course, objected; she would curse them, and they would curse her until finally she would yell, “I’m going to get my big brother!” And then they would leave her alone because they knew Zar and they were afraid of him. A few times the boys got their fathers into it, and Zar would challenge them to a duel to settle it—and he beat them each time. He had always looked after her, and Shahla knew that he would soil his hands with the blood of nobles and princes, kings and queens, before letting any harm come to her. She knew without asking.
    “Where’s the old man?” Zar asked, finding Barek gone when they returned to the cottage.
    Shahla paused for a moment, a quick smile grazing her lips before she forced it away. “I don’t know. Hunting, probably.”
    Zar chuckled. The woman was lying, but he didn’t inquire on the matter.

2
     
     
     
     
     
     
    “You were supposed to come yesterday, love. I thought you weren’t coming.”
    Barek chuckled and squeezed around Friida’s body. “You knew I was coming,” he replied.
    Friida giggled in agreement. “Then what took you?”
    “I was working on a sword.”
    “A sword?” the woman replied, sounding shocked. “That’s the reason you couldn’t come see me?” She pulled forward to release herself from Barek’s grip, but Barek held on tight. “Fine,” she pouted. “Then tell me the story.”
    Barek brought his chin over her shoulder and rested it there. “What story?”
    “The story of the sword,” said Friida, turning her face toward his. “You told me every weapon has a story, so tell me the story since this sword is so important that you had to work on it all day instead of seeing me .”
    Barek sighed. “Must I really tell you the story?”
    The woman nodded, and her wavy, flowing hair leapt around Barek’s face. “After all, you’re so good at telling stories,” she said.
    Barek smiled warmly. Friida had no idea, but it was a rather important sword and a rather important story. It was the story of the beginning of a friendship between two men—a story Barek would never forget. “Very well,” Barek agreed. “That sword—I can recall the very day I crafted it. It was to be sold to Harol, captain of Snowstone’s castle guard at the time. I was to craft the sword and bring it to the city of Sirith when it was ready. So I did, of course, and I was met by Harol and a set of his guards when I got there. I handed him the sword and he seemed to be very pleased with it.”
    “You do excellent work,” Friida commended.
    “I do,” agreed Barek, kissing his love on the nape of her neck. “Now Harol looked the weapon over and told me he was pleased with it, and I was pleased as well for the reward was sixty pieces of gold.”
    “Sixty gold pieces!” Friida exclaimed.
    “Aye, and I was just as excited. But after he examined the sword he didn’t hand me my gold. Instead, he turned his horse and rode away.”
    “But what about your payment?” Friida demanded.
    “Well, that’s what I said,” Barek replied. ‘“And my payment?’ I called out after him, ‘What of my payment?’ Now I’m not one for getting cheated and if I couldn’t have my gold I was going to curse him as much as I could before he rode off.”
    Friida moved her face back toward Barek’s. “Truly?”
    she said, smiling. “Did you curse at him?”
    “Aye.”
    “Did you want to be killed?”
    “I didn’t care,” Barek replied. “I was angry. I yelled at him, I cursed at him, I told him my daughter could swing that sword better than he could!” Friida and Barek both burst into laughter. “That’s what I said, I swear it,” said Barek, laughing out the words.
    “And what did he do? Go on, go on!” Friida