This week’s episode features Chapter Twenty Eight of War of the Fathers. Click here to download it or press play below. Here is an excerpt from the show:
As the sizzle of lightning flashed across the sky, thunder filled the air. Jorad looked up at the sky expecting that the invasion had already begun, but he only saw flashes of lightning with more accompanying thunder. It was hard to tell the difference between the thunder and explosions that accompanied a Hunwei invasion. Resisting the urge to look up again with the next flash of lightning, he stepped out into the street that connected to the alley with the arch.
It was mostly empty. Several people turned a corner and disappeared from view. Jorad called out to the nearest man who was hurrying past, anxious to get home before the storm. The man turned and looked at Jorad but didn’t stop. It was a pity that the man hadn’t stopped, but Jorad wasn’t going to waste time chasing him down.
It had turned out that everyone wanted to help warn Zecarani. Jorad tried without success to convince at least Soret to stay at the arch, but she was the most adamant of any of them. He couldn’t blame her. She’d lost so much. After they’d dumped their packs in the Arches, they’d entered Zecarani. Jorad had suggested that they keep the arch open, focus first on the closest buildings, and work from there. Nobody had disagreed.
Xarda and Wes went one direction while Tarner and Leron went the other. After they had worked this street, they would meet at the Arch with the people they’d collected. Anybody that could help they would enlist and everybody else would go into the Arches.
Jorad went across the street to the closest shop, which turned out to be a bakery. As he walked up the wooden stairs to the door, the smell of bread fresh out of the oven greeted them. He could see the baker at the counter on the far side of the wall through the two small windows. Upon entering, the first thing he noticed was a large cake that sat out on the counter, it was decorated with strawberries. He’d forgotten the other day that he wanted to introduce Soret to real cake. No time for that now.
The baker greeted them. He was a rather large man wearing an apron that looked like it hadn’t been washed in years. Underneath the fresh cover of white flour, there were dark stains. The sight made Jorad’s desire for the cake vanish. The door to the kitchen was opposite the entrance. It was open, and Jorad could make out the back of a woman as she stirred something in a large wooden bowl. Beside her was a small girl sitting on the floor playing with several dolls.
“The Hunwei are about to attack,” Jorad said. “You don’t have time to grab much, gather your family and have them meet us out here in the street. I know a safe way out of the city.” As he spoke, the baker’s face had shown several different emotions, starting with a smile—clearly expecting a joke—but now he was frowning.
“Hunwei? How stupid do you think I am? I follow you out into the street, and your friends come in from the back and rob me. I wasn’t born yesterday, son.”
Jorad reached into the bag, pulled out the Hunwei head, and set it on the counter beside the cake. “Ok. You tell me what this is then.”