Demands of Honor by Kevin Ryan Page A

terrible. Yet, dressed in his departing robes, Gorath looked as if he might simply be asleep. That thought brought a fresh well of grief that threatened Adon’s scant control. In truth, he was simply a boy who desperately needed his father to tell him what to do. He needed his father to get up from the table and tell him that it had all been a terrible mistake. Then he needed his father to set this great wrong to right.
    Yet his father was still as he lay on the table in the center of their home. Uncle and those who were closest to Adon and Gorath performed the departing ritual. When it was done, his uncle put a hand on Adon’s shoulder as they sat. Adon was tempted to fall into his uncle’s embrace and wait through the night with them.
    When one of their people died, those closest to the family had the duty of keeping vigil to see the departedoff during the first night. The next day, there would be visitors to receive and then a burial. Of course, that was under normal circumstances, and what had happened here was far from normal.
    And the danger that had claimed his father was far from passed and might well swallow the entire clan, if not their entire world. If Adon had his father’s strength, he would be on his feet immediately setting the wrong right and getting his revenge.
    He said a quick prayer to the man that had been his father and clan leader. No great wisdom came to him, but he found that he was able to stand—on what could only have been strength borrowed from his father. He looked at Gorath’s still form and realized that the great man was gone. He might not have his father’s strength, but he would have to make do with what he had.
    The others looked at him expectantly, as if they had seen something on his face. Finally Uncle said, “What is it, Adon?”
    â€œMy father has been murdered.” Adon was surprised at the calm in his voice. He chalked that up to a parting gift from Gorath.
    â€œThe
quoth
are beasts,” Uncle said.
    â€œIt was not beasts that murdered Gorath.” Then Adon told the others what he had seen and what he now suspected.
    â€œGurn is capable of this, I am certain,” Uncle said finally. “But to move against him the way things are now, we need to be sure.”
    â€œThe green-skins’ machines can tell us if the blood on my father’s sword is a beast’s or a man’s,” Adon said. “I will go alone to the mine and find the truth.”
    â€œYou will go nowhere alone,” Uncle said as the six men around him rose.
    â€œIt will not go unnoticed. There will be talk if we all leave during the ritual,” Adon said.
    â€œThere has been much worse than talk here today, and there will be much worse yet,” Uncle said.
    The men went quickly to their homes and retrieved their own
mek’leths,
and returned to Adon.
    â€œWe served your father. We will serve you,” Uncle said seriously.
    There were nods of assent from the other men. It was absurd, of course. Gorath was a great man. Adon was simply his son and the one who happened to be left alive. Yet, the others were looking at him as if they were seeing some of his father in him. Well, Adon knew the truth, but he simply nodded his thanks.
    â€œAdon!” a voice called out as a figure came running across the center of the village. It was Bethe who came to a stop in front of them, eyeing them seriously. She took particular interest in the swords they wore. “What are you doing?”
    â€œFor the moment, nothing,” Adon said.
    Bethe raised her eyebrows at that but said only, “Gurn has called an emergency meeting of the clan leaders.”
    â€œNot of
all
the clan leaders,” Uncle said. Technically, of course, Adon was the new clan leader, but that was simply too much to comprehend.
    â€œHe said he did not want to bother you in your time of grief,” Bethe said.
    â€œWell, these are dangerous times. I will have to go to