Page 59 of The Ruler
Ten minutes later we flew into one of the poorest cities in the Northlands.
Pearl raised a hand to her chest as if hit by the heavy depression that filled this town. Even I felt the heavy energy as we slowly hovered by houses with broken windows and blackened façades. Some of them were covered with numbers and writing.
“What does the writing mean?” Pearl whispered.
“When the fire consumed this city they summed up how many men lived in each house and how many died in the fire.
“That many?” Her voice broke.
“The writing tells if the house is livable or vacated for safety reasons.”
She was quiet, her eyes full of tears as we stopped in front of a group of men blocking the way. They had burn marks and one was missing a leg, but the worst part was how dead their eyes were. Like nothing mattered anymore. They looked disheveled and severely underweight.
“We have to stop and help them,” she said without looking at me.
“With what? We didn’t bring any food.”
“Then we must come back. Today!” This time she was pleading, her eyes moist.
“Maybe if we have time on our way back,” I said and called up Finn again. “I’ve seen enough. Time to go to Zobel; he should have dinner ready for us.”
“Got it,” Finn said unemotionally and took us out of there, our drone linked to his.
Pearl sat quietly with her hands in her lap, looking sad but beautiful in her long white dress. Her blonde hair fell down her shoulders and she wore earrings in the same blue color as her eyes.
“Zobel is a nice guy, you’ll like him. He owns this city and the mines where the men work.”
Pearl turned her head and looked away, not yet taking my bait, but I knew she soon would.
“Welcome, my friends.” Zobel stood ready when we arrived. Like a king of the Ontario area he had built himself a castle, bigger and better than my Gray Manor.
Zobel had been my father’s closest friend and the old man was no threat to my position. He was more like a greedy squirrel gathering riches for a long and hard winter – a collector of luxurious drones, art, sculptures, and anything else that was hard and expensive to obtain. Including my mother, who stayed with him more often than not. He had asked for my permission to marry her and I was still considering it. The man was a fool, and letting her spend time with him was my way of letting her discover it for herself before binding herself to him.
My mother was delighted that we’d come, and when I introduced Zobel to Pearl he almost licked his lips at the rare pleasure of meeting someone so refined. Yes, Zobel knew a treasure when he saw one.
Dinner was served in a room more opulent than my personal suite. Gold, marble, and intricate craftsmanship combined with the newest technology impressed all the guests, but Pearl looked almost disgusted.
“I’m so excited to meet a member of the council,” Zobel said and smiled widely at Pearl. Being around seventy, he was at least fifteen years older than my mom and the same age as my father would have been if he had been alive.
Zobel was no longer the handsome man he had once been, and he looked weaker than when I last saw him four months ago.
“Not to mention the privilege of having two women at my table again.” Zobel pointed to a large painting. “My wife, Maria, died six years ago.” He drew in a heavy sigh. “I miss her terribly, but at least Erika has been kind enough to visit me often.” His smile to my mother was so loving that I had to look away.
“Do you have children?” Pearl asked politely albeit stiffly.
“Yes, yes, I am the proud father of three daughters and a son. Unfortunately, my son was killed many years ago in a tournament.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Pearl said with sympathy. “That must have been very hard on you.”
“Yes, it was.” He threw his hands out. “Now Peter won’t be here to claim his heritage.”
“So what happens to it then?” Pearl leaned forward. “I don’t mean to pry; I’m just trying to understand how your customs work.”
“I’m giving it to Khan and Magni. They are my godsons and closest to my heart.”
“What about your daughters?”
He chuckled. “This isn’t the Motherlands, dear. Women don’t own valuables here; theyarea valuable. I suppose I could give it to their husbands, but to be honest I don’t like them much.”
