LEV LAUGHED
Yudi Sutasan, Nish’s father, waved his hand dismissively. He was a small, slight man with neatly combed brown hair and an infectious smile. His appearance matched the shop around him. Pristine and comforting and sweet smelling. “Ah, Levon Datevar, so quick-witted—just like that pain-in-the-arse father of yours.”
“But Yudi, isn’t he your best friend?”
“Perhaps, but what’s your point? And did you just call me, ‘? Such disrespect. I should be ‘Master Sutasan’ to you!”
Lev groaned. “Not if you’ve told me to call you ‘Yudi’ from the moment I first learned to talk. Honestly, , when it comes to pains-in-the-arses, you’re worse than my father. Just so you know. Now, what have you done with Nish?”
In response, a bony finger poked Lev in the ribs and a deep voice said, “Behind you!”
Lev’s heart leaped into his throat, and he nearly fell as Yudi bent over, howling with laughter.
Then Nish leaped into view and shouted, “Got you!”
Lev clutched his chest and rolled his eyes. “You two! Seriously, must you scare me?” He crimped his eyes into stern slits and glared at Yudi and Nish, trying hard to appear upset, but the disparity in father and son soon made Lev join their laughter. Somehow, Nish was the tallest and strongest person in the room. His black hair was an unruly mop of curls that bounced to his shoulders. And his outfit, as usual, was a hodgepodge of colors and patterns.
As their laughter faded, Lev clapped Nish on the shoulder and said, “I hope this at least means we can go fishing.”
“Absolutely, friend,” Nish said. “Absolutely. Just let me get my pole.”
Yudi coughed to stop his laughter and clear his voice. “Just be home before sundown, boys. Our city isn’t as safe as it was just a week ago.” He paused and stared at Lev. “Got it?”
“Yessir,” Lev said.
Nish winked at Lev before turning to Yudi. “You never have to worry about us, Father. We’ll behave, I promise. See you soon and with lots of fish!”
Moments later, they were on their way. A rare sense of contentment filled Lev as he followed Nish through the city streets. For a while, they walked toward the heart of D’Win and the city’s central plaza. Moving with the flow of foot traffic instead of against it made travel much more enjoyable. No longer dodging pedestrians and guards, Lev soaked up the sights and sounds of his beautiful city. The buildings were a blend of gray, tan, brown, and pink bricks. Elaborate carvings and frescoes of heroes riding into battle decorated lintels and frieze boards. Roof lines slanted in every direction or curved into domes.
Despite its beauty, though, the city had lost its usual vibrancy. All the windows were shuttered, and all the doors were barred. D’Win had truly closed for the day. Yet, for a supposedly joyous occasion, something seemed off to Lev. All around him, people laughed, talked, and even sang. But like the buildings surrounding them, the crowd filling the streets seemed somewhat “shuttered.” Maybe they looked happy and sounded happy, but they didn’t happy. Not truly. Something was missing.
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Freedom, his father would likely say, real freedom. Lev twisted his lips into a frown, reluctantly agreeing.
A few blocks from the plaza, Nish nudged Lev and snapped him out of his musings.
“There’s a better way, a secret way,” Nish said, using his fishing pole to point out a gap between the buildings on their right. “But you have to keep up.” Then he darted ahead and disappeared around a corner.
Lev shook his head and laughed. Nish acted as if he were the only one who knew about the shortcut to the main gates. But he also made everything a game, even routine walks to the gates. Games that Lev liked to win. So, he broke into a sprint and chased Nish into the narrow alley while the rest of the crowd trundled toward the heart of the city.
Once Lev drew even with Nish’s side, he tugged on his friend’s sleeve. As they slowed their pace and picked their way through the narrow alley, Nish kicked a stone, knocking it ahead of them every few steps. Finally, he turned to Lev and asked, “What do you make of all these people? I mean, there’s so many of them. All heading to the festival. My father keeps insisting that anyone who goes is a fool, but apparently most Hyasans don’t feel the same way.”
“Well, family’s staying home,” Lev said. “My father said he’d rather die than go.”
“Of course, he did,” Nish said with a laugh. “Do those two ever disagree?”
“Nope. But do you think they’re right?”
“I don’t know. I’m kind of curious to see what this new Governor Totoro has to say. I mean, things can’t get any worse, right? Maybe he’s here to make some concessions.”
“My father certainly doesn’t think so. Says just the opposite is going to happen.”
“Mine, too. But really, how can they know? Totoro just got here.”
“True,” Lev said as they emerged from the alley. Here, close to the wall, the streets were far less crowded.
“Race you to the gate!” Nish said, breaking into a sprint without waiting for Lev’s response.
Nish might have been taller, but he was nowhere near as fast as Lev. Grinning, he let his friend get a sizable lead before speeding after him. As they neared the gate, Lev was a stride behind Nish—and nearly slammed into him when he abruptly ceased running.
“Hey!” Lev said, regaining his balance.
Nish swung back and shook his head. “We don’t want to go that way,” he whispered.
Lev peered around Nish and saw what had caused him to stop. A squadron of Elite Tolian Guards formed a line across the road in front of the closed gates. Their captain stood ten feet ahead of his soldiers, blocking the path of a cart pulled by a mule. An elderly Hyasan merchant sat in the cart and was gesturing like a whirling dust cloud toward the soldiers barricading his path.
The captain shook his head. “I said, The gate … is … closed!” he yelled, clearly exasperated. “Turn around!”
“But why?” the merchant asked. “I have a delivery I make.”
The captain took a step forward. “Not my problem. My orders from the governor are clear. Since he has given you a festival, no Hyasans, absolutely none, are allowed out of the city today. Besides, even on a normal day, you wouldn’t be allowed to leave for at least an hour. Maybe two. A legion approaches, and the road will be closed to travelers until the legion enters D’Win. So … for the time … turn your cart around and go home, Grandfather. Or better yet, go to the festival. But test me no more, or I’ll remove that tiresome tongue of yours.”
The captain drew his gladius from its sheath. Behind him, his squadron snapped to attention.
The merchant shook his head and waved his hand dismissively. “Fine, fine,” he said, snapping his reins. His mule brayed in protest, but the wagon turned around and headed back into the city.
“Come on,” Nish said. “Looks like we can’t go fishing. And since we can’t leave, let’s watch the approaching legion from the wall.”
