This week’s episode features Chapter Three of War of the Fathers. Here is an excerpt from the show:
The sun blinded Jorad when he stepped out of the shadow of the boarding house onto the road. It was just peeking up over the top of the Jagged Mountains and hadn’t yet warmed things up. He tried to ignore the chill as he took a deep breath. The air held a hint of pine from the nearby forest and he exhaled, feeling a little bit more awake. He hadn’t slept much during the night. Between Ruder’s claims and the way Soret’s parents had treated him last night when he’d seen her home, there had been too much on his mind. As he tossed and turned, he had hoped that the morning would bring greater clarity, but it hadn’t. He still didn’t know what to think about any of it.
It had been dark long before they’d finished their walk the night before, so Jorad had walked Soret home. That had been a mistake. Barc Tedenhel, Soret’s father, had met them at the door. One look from Barc had been enough for Jorad to know that he needed to make himself scarce.
The balding short man had pretended that Jorad wasn’t there when he’d addressed Soret, demanding to know where she had been. Soret’s mother Hira looked over Barc’s shoulder—she was a head taller—and had glared at Jorad. Neither had spoken to him during the exchange and talked of him as if he wasn’t there.
Jorad had spoken up a few times, raising objections to being classified as a scoundrel, but he went unheeded.
Before going in, Soret had whispered a quick apology explaining that her parents still hadn’t gotten over her breakup with Erro.
Jorad wasn’t so sure that her explanation made sense. They’d treated him as if he had a terrible disease and that their daughter was at risk of catching it. There had to be more to it than what Soret had said.
“What did Soret do now?” Adar asked, shutting the boarding house door behind him and bringing Jorad back to the present. A slight breeze disturbed the leaves of a nearby tree and Adar flicked at a bug that landed on the back of his neck. He unconsciously touched the hilt of his sword afterward. That particular nervous habit had sometimes landed them in trouble. There were places that if a man reached for his sword and didn’t follow through he’d be dead.