Warlords Rising (10 page)

It took nearly three days for the inhabitants of Rurick to
return.

At first it was the young men, the bolder ones that dared to
risk an enemy occupied city. But when they were met with tentative hellos and
welcomes, they went back and reported that it was safe, and more poured in
after them.

Becca didn’t quite know what to do with them at first. Her
grasp on the language was shaky at best and they sometimes used slang on words
that didn’t make any sense to her. They didn’t know how to respond to her
either. Or to Nolan and Trev’nor. Magicians were slaves. That was the tradition
they had been raised with and they had never questioned it until their city was
torn apart. They oscillated between thinking along traditional lines and being
overly cautious of the three powerful mages walking around in their midst.

Two days after the populace had returned, they finally sat
down and spoke with someone who was the de facto leader of Rurick. Rikkana Sumi
was her name, an older woman that looked to be a grandmother. She came to them
as they struggled to teach some of the magicians the basics of magic and tapped
her cane on the ground once, as if calling for their attention. “I want to
speak with you.”

Becca frowned in concentration, trying to understand her.
Sumi’s Solish had a very thick accent. “Rikkana Sumi, we can speak,” she
carefully replied. “Now?”

The Rikkana found a bench in the shade and plopped down on
it, her black robes flaring out, expression impassive.

Now, apparently. Trev’nor and Nolan picked up on this as
well and found seats that faced the old woman. Becca shifted as well, although
she was content to let the boys do most of the talking.

“What is your goal here?” the Rikkana asked the three of
them.

It was Trev’nor that responded, “Our goal is to right the
order of things in Khobunter. You have been taught that any magician should be
enslaved. This is not right. Every other country honors their magicians. They
respect them. They are not slaves.”

Whatever the Rikkana had expected, this was not it. Her dark
eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You conquered this city. It is now yours.”

Trev’nor shook his head. “We did not fight to claim this
place. We fought to free ourselves. This city is yours as it has always been.”

“You freed your kind.” The Rikkana inclined her head to
indicate the magicians avidly listening in this conversation. “You will take
them with you?”

“They can go wherever they want,” Nolan corrected. “They are
free. We will contact home and inform them there are magicians here who need
training. Where they go is up to them.”

Becca wasn’t sure about leaving the magicians here. She had
seen for herself how long it had taken Chahir to accept magic once again. The
tradition in Khobunter seemed just as engrained.  The fact that they were
sitting here and having this conversation was proof enough that hearts and
minds did not change overnight.

Frustrated, the Rikkana pointed a finger at Nolan. “You want
something.”

“I do,” Nolan agreed with a brilliant smile. “I want
magicians to be free in Khobunter. I want slavery to end.”

He might as well have announced that he wanted the suns to
be green and the sky to be pink. The Rikkana did not understand this wish at
all.

Trev’nor cleared his throat and offered, “Rikkana Sumi, as
magicians we make…ah, how to explain this? We make oaths to protect people. To
prevent wrongs.” Trev’nor jerked a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the
silent onlookers. “Our oath is to protect them.”

This, at least, rang a bell with the old woman. She nodded
somberly. “To honor an oath is a good thing. In Chahir, all magicians honor
this oath?”

“All of them,” Nolan confirmed.

“I see.” The Rikkana sat back and considered things for a
moment, her eyes blankly focused on the dirt under their feet. “Our governor
here was bad. Rotten. We are glad for what you did.”

Becca had heard enough grumblings from the citizens about
the government to believe her. “Then we did you a favor?”

“You did,” the Rikkana agreed with a bleak smile. “Even
though you fought to honor your oath, you did not harm the people and only
struck at the government. We are thankful.”

So the Rikkana wasn’t upset by what they had done, most of
the city wasn’t either, they just weren’t sure what the new conquerors wanted?
Becca could work with that. “Rikkana Sumi, we will not stay. You can do what
you want.”

“Right,” Nolan backed her up with a nod of agreement. “Do
what you want. Right now, we intend to move on, get some answers, then call
home and tell them about the magicians here. Can I ask some questions?”

The old woman seemed relieved that all they wanted was some
answers and waved her hand, gesturing for Nolan to ask.

“Magicians come from…” Nolan stopped, frowned, and
rephrased. “Magic comes from families. From our records, no one in Khobunter
should have magic. We would like to know where they came from.”

“They have been here since living memory,” the Rikkana answered,
spreading her hands slightly in a shrug. “We cannot tell you.”

Since living memory? Was that was she said? Becca rubbed at
her chin. “Do you know of any old documents, or records, that might tell us?”

The Rikkana just shrugged, indicating she had no idea. “Old stories
do not mention magic.”

“Oh.”

From behind, Roskin came around and gave a formal bow to the
Rikkana, recognizing her, before he said to Trev’nor, “I heard you say your
Chahirese name. What was it?”

“Rhebentrev’noren,” Trev’nor responded. “Why?”

“Chahirese names, they have
upana
first?”

“
Upana
first,” Nolan affirmed. “In this case, Rheben
is the
upana
.”

“There is a place north of here.” Roskin turned and pointed
in the right general direction. “
Khandahr
of Rheben.”

“
Khandahr
?” Trev’nor repeated in confusion.

Nolan shook his head, not getting the word either. “City?”

“Old city,” Roskin explained patiently. “No one lives there.
Half-destroyed.”

“Ruins,” Becca breathed. “
Khandahr
probably means
ruins. Ruins of Rheben.”

“Something like it,” Nolan agreed, visibly perking up. “Now
why would a city in Khobunter be named with a Chahirese name like that?”

“My family name, no less.” Trev’nor stared north and the way
his eyes looked, it suggested he was looking far ahead with his magical sense
more than his physical sight. “Now that does bear investigation. That place
might have answers.”

“I’m certainly inclined to go look.” Nolan flashed Roskin a
smile. “That was helpful. Thanks.”

Roskin beamed back. “Glad to help.”

“Is it straight north from here?” Nolan asked.

“
Adhirk
.” Tone said ‘mostly.’ Roskin cocked his head
and offered doubtfully, “Four days?”

Four days to get there by horseback? Or dragoo.

Trev’nor waved this away. “I can get there fast. Roskin, we
want to go up and look at this place.”

“Investigate,” Nolan tacked on. “
Chhaan
.”

“Right. Get some answers. Then call home. Tell them about
all of you.”

“That’s fine,” Roskin assured him. “We will practice what
you taught.”

Becca didn’t see how the delay would hurt. They’d only need
a week or two of poking around in the ruins to see if there was anything to
discover. That way, when they did call home, they’d have a great more
information to report instead of half-baked theories and conjecture. Half-baked
theories would not get them out of the hot water they were already in. Solid
information would ease them out of the tight spot and into a more secure
location.

“Then we will leave in a few days for a look.” Trev’nor
looked to the two of them to see if this was alright as he spoke. “We want to
spend some time here fixing everything we broke before leaving. After we go to
the ruins, we’ll come back in a week or two. Good?”

“Fine by me,” Nolan acquiesced.

Becca lifted her shoulders slightly. “And me.”

Khobunter apparently had very strict laws about female-male
conduct. Becca didn’t pick up on it at first, as slaves didn’t abide by any
kind of rules aside from the ones the guards set, so it took a day of being
free in Rurick to catch on that most of the citizens here found her
relationship with Trev’nor and Nolan strange. Bizarre, even. Family would
interact the way they did, or spouses, but nothing short of that. The women did
not speak with a man one-on-one unless another woman was with her. Becca freely
went wherever she was of a mind to and spoke to whomever she pleased and the
women did not agree with this behavior at all.

At first she assumed that Rikkana
Sumi followed them about because of what they were doing. Nolan went off to
heal anyone that was injured while she and Trev’nor surveyed the damage and
discussed what needed to happen. Then Trev’nor went off to start on the
government buildings and she split the other direction with a totally different
project in mind, and Rikkana Sumi immediately followed her.

Becca stopped dead in her tracks
and turned to the woman. “Is there a problem, Rikkana Sumi?”

“You cannot be alone while
walking,” she responded with that overly patient tone reserved for a person
that asks stupid questions.

She blinked. Then blinked again as
the full import of that sentence registered. “You mean a woman does not walk
alone? At all?”

“
Covana
women can,” she
explained.

Covana meaning, what? Becca had an
inkling but tried the Solian word to clarify. “Married?”

The Rikkana nodded. “Married
women.”

So, in other words, because she
wasn’t married she shouldn’t be walking around alone. “My countrywomen are free
to do what they want.”

The Rikkana didn’t like this
response at all. She frowned at her, a very maternal look on her face. “Not
safe.”

“Rikkana, I can fight off any man.
Trust me.” Rather, Becca had the opposite problem of boys being afraid to
approach her. Having the Super Soldier as a brother-parent might have something
to do with that. Well, that and her habit of chucking lightning at anything
that bothered her. Deciding that a change of subject was in order, she asked,
“We did lots of damage. Food stores fine?”

The Rikkana really, really wanted
to pursue the topic but food was very important in a desert land like this one.
A mulish expression on her face, she nevertheless responded, “Need to check.”

“Then let’s check.”

Seeing that Becca was willing to
follow her, and she wouldn’t have to worry short-term about her being
inappropriate, the Rikkana relaxed a tad and led off. Becca relaxed as well and
schemed. She’d get Nolan over here later and have him explain Chahiran culture.
No way was she living under these kinds of restrictions; they were patently
ridiculous. Women normally moved in groups because they were social and it was
more fun that way, but being forced to? Just to step outside the house? No
thanks.

They stopped at a building that
was thicker than most, the walls nearly wide enough that she couldn’t put her
hands on either side. When she stepped inside, Becca felt that the air was much
cooler, with only two lamps inside providing light. Two other women were
already there, both near her age, their hair tied back in kerchiefs. They
greeted the Rikkana with high-pitched excitement, which Becca took as a good
sign.

As the Rikkana spoke with them,
she looked the building over in general. It was quite the warehouse, really,
with enough food in here to feed the town for at least two or three days. Bins were
lined in rows, different types of vegetables poking out of them. Becca went and
investigated as they rarely got anything more than flat bread and meat in the
slave pens.

There was wheat, watermelon, corn,
some root vegetables like tarot and carrots, but there wasn’t much in the way
of variety. Perhaps the rest were stored elsewhere? Come to think of it, there
were practically no fruits here either. At least, none that she recognized.