Rise of a Hero (The Farsala Trilogy) Read Online Free PDF

being merciful where there was no resistance. A few broken shutters, already replaced, were the worst damage he’d seen. That, and the wariness in the shopkeepers’ eyes as they pulled in their wares and closed up. Everyone still in the streets was seeking refuge now.
    No, the Hrum hadn’t lied when they promised that his folk would survive, mostly unscathed. Mind, they hadn’t mentioned they’d be imposing curfews, but that was supposed to be a “temporary measure.”
    What was it his old master, Tebin, used to say? “There’s nothing as permanent as a temporary tax.” But it was the deghans who’d imposed thosetaxes, who’d broken their own laws with impunity, who had stolen a man’s trade and left him to rebuild from nothing. Kavi flexed his scarred right hand as far as he could, not quite fully open, not quite fully closed. The deghans were gone, and he couldn’t be too sorry for having had a hand in that.
    The laundry was already dark. It usually closed a bit early—and Nadi was the kind who’d let her workers go even earlier, to be certain they made it home by curfew. The house beside the laundry, built by master stonemasons, showed no light around the well-fitted door, but a faint glow around the shutters revealed human presence within.
    Kavi took a deep breath, stepped up to the door, and knocked. It was built of heavy planks, and he could hear nothing beyond it—he almost jumped when the door opened, revealing Nadi’s worried face.
    “Who in the . . . Kavi!”
    “Is everything all right?” they both asked simultaneously, and Nadi snorted.
    “Get in before the patrol comes by. Don’t you know about the curfew? Or are you being reckless enough not to care? Where’s Duckie?”
    She stood aside to admit him—a plain, middle-aged woman, worn by work and care. She was the linchpin of the small family that Kavi had unofficially adopted. She was his partner in their scheme to sell gold-covered bronze for the price of solid goods. She was the closest thing to a mother that he had.
    “I left Duckie in one of the farms outside the city, along with my wares, for I’m not here to sell or buy,” Kavi assured her. “Are you all right, and the children? Sim and Hama?”
    “We’re all fine, lad, and the young ones too. Though we were worried about you, with those Hrum roaming the—”
    “Kavi!” It was a shrill, childish shriek, but there was nothing childish about the stout staff Sim cast aside as he hurtled forward to embrace his friend.
    “Quiet, imp, you’ll wake the little ones.” Hama paused to sheathe the knife she held before she followed her brother into Kavi’s arms. If anything, she was thinner and more gangly-awkward than she’d been when he’d seen her last. He was the one who had taught her how to hide a knife under her vest like that. And many of the other skillsshe’d used, selling the gold-bronze pieces Kavi had forged.
    “Hama’s working in the laundry now,” Nadi told him. “They’re far too lawful, these Hrum. If anyone has succeeded in bribing any of ’em, I haven’t heard about it.”
    “Well, that’s being a good thing, isn’t it?” Kavi asked. “In the long run at least.”
    “True enough,” Nadi concurred, but her eyes were worried.
    And if Nadi was arming the older children before she’d open the door, there must be more tension in the city than he’d thought.
    “They’re teaching me to fight!” Sim exclaimed.
    Kavi froze, then said casually, “I’d heard they were drafting every man, mule, and dog into the army, but aren’t you a bit young?” Sim was eleven, no, twelve now, if he was remembering rightly.
    “They’re not drafting him yet,” said Nadi, laying a hand on her son’s shoulder. He was taller than when Kavi had seen him last. “Just starting to train him up for the future.” She sounded calm too, but Kavi saw fear in her eyes.
    Anger flared. “In Desafon they said they onlydrafted men fit to fight, between the ages of eighteen