Redemption: A Malvers War Story

by Tora Moon

  “Those are your problem-solving and management tests,” he explained. “Those are just a few of the problems and shortages Mendehan and Salloreen left this keep with. Your test is how to fix them. You will be helping your clan while proving your capabilities.” He let them review the lists, each one containing five of the most pressing needs of the keep.

  Marlora raised her eyebrows at the list. “All of this is wrong with the keep?”

  Histrun nodded. “That and more. You have three days to complete your tasks. Wendehan and Marlora, your training begins within an octar. Good luck to you all. May the best people prevail.”

  Over the next two days, Histrun observed the two alpha teams as they threw themselves into proving which would make the better interim Clan Alphas. From everything he could see, either pair would serve the people of Dehanlair well.

  On the morning of the third day, Salordehan and Argodehan were brought into the alpha’s office for fighting—yet again. This time they’d thrown food at each other in the dining hall. They hadn’t made much progress on their fence mending because they’d been too busy arguing, and from the looks of their bruised faces and bloody knuckles, beating each other up.

  “You, sit there,” Histrun ordered Salordehan to a chair by the window, then pointed Argodehan to the chair on the opposite side of the room. “Both of you, quiet!” They slumped in the chairs, arms folded over their chests, and glared at each other. Then he called in the two alpha pairs.

  “I’ve had it with these two,” Histrun growled. “They’ve done nothing but fight since Mendehan fell.”

  “But—” Salordehan started.

  “He’s a—” Argodehan sputtered.

  “Auck,” Histrun held up a hand, “did I say either of you could speak?”

  They shook their heads, and sunk lower in their seats.

  Histrun looked at the alphas. “Both of you are doing exceptionally well with the tests. At this point, it’s a toss-up which set would be better than the other. Whichever one of you can solve this problem”—he pointed between the two young men—“will win the competition. Good luck.” He pushed away from the desk, stood up, and marched out the door.

  He hurried down the stairs to the recreation room and flung open the door, “Oh, good,” he said, smiling when he noticed Naila sitting in a comfortable chair. Bandages still covered her throat, and she was thin and pale, but otherwise she looked well. “Glad to have you back with us. Are you ready to go home?”

  Naila nodded, then answered in mind-speech, *Yes, very ready. When do we leave?*

  Histrun surveyed the room, and found Lorstriel and Maheli playing a game of keshe. “Lorstriel, Maheli, go find everyone and let them know we’ll be leaving this afternoon.”

  “Yes!” Maheli shouted, pumping her fist in the air. “I’m so ready to go home. Come on, Lorstriel.” Maheli scooped the game pieces into the wooden box.

  “Hey, I was winning,” Lorstriel cried, then shrugged and hurried out the door with Maheli to spread the word about their departure.

  *So who won the alpha competition?* Naila asked.

  “Don’t know. Don’t care. Either pair will do well. They will know which one solved the final problem I gave them. I don’t have to be here to give the final determination, and while they’re working on it they can manage the keep between them.”

  *What was it?*

  “The Salordehan and Argodehan problem. I’ve been dealing with those two idiots for the last seven days. I doubt it can be solved in the next chedan or even the next lunadar, and I’m not going to wait that long.”

  Naila chuckled, the sound rough and scratchy. *I’ve heard those two have been at each other’s throats for years. That was mean, Histrun.*

  “Perhaps.” He shrugged. “I’m not going to change the final challenge now.”

  He left her and went up to his room, where he quickly packed his few belongings. He carefully took down the carved box holding Zehala’s ashes from the shelf over the desk, and cradled it in his arms. “Soon, my love,” he whispered. “Soon we’ll be home.”

  Chapter 11

  Later that afternoon, Histrun waited in the courtyard for Maheli to bring Telen to him. His people filled the area as they finalized their preparations to leave.

  Rodehan hurried from the keep-house. “Histrun!” he called. “You can’t leave yet.”

  Histrun raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms across his chest. “Of course I can.”

  “But … the Alpha Competition winner hasn’t been decided yet.”

  “You will know who the winner is by who solves the problem between Salordehan and Argodehan. You don’t need me here to tell you the obvious. I’ve stayed here longer than I wanted to in order to help your people recover. The rest is up to you and Wendehan. You don’t need me any longer. You’re both quite capable of turning this clan around.”

  “Thank you for that vote of confidence. But please, stay at least until the morning, when you can start out fresh.”

  “No.” Histrun shook his head. “Norvela assures me we can reach the first safe house before dark.”

  “If I can’t convince you to stay, at least wait for Norvela and Tedehan to gather their people and accompany you back to Dehanrolos Keep.” Rodehan’s gaze took on the look of someone communicating via mind-speech. “They will be ready in half an octar.”

  “That will take too long,” Histrun huffed out. “They can meet us at the first safe house and continue the rest of the way with us. But we will be pushing hard, and we won’t be stopping long at Dehanrolos Keep.”

  “That is acceptable. I’ll let them know.” He put a hand on Histrun’s shoulder. “I am truly sorry about what happened to Zehala. Dehanlair Clan will always be in your debt. If you need anything in the future, just ask, and we will do all we can to help you.”

  Histrun gripped Rodehan’s wrist, then turned away as Maheli approached him leading Telen. She handed his reins to Histrun, then scurried back to her horse. Kylara kept searching the courtyard for her rider, and reared when Maheli tried to tie her lead reins to the back of her horse. Poor horse, she doesn’t understand Zehala will never ride her again.

  Once the animal calmed down, Histrun gave the signal to mount and led his people toward the gate. As he passed under it, he said a fervent prayer that he’d never set eyes on Dehanlair Keep again. He had lost too much here. He kicked Telen’s sides into a quick trot, and as soon as they were past the fields and pastures, he quickened the pace into a canter.

  The sun was setting when they rode through the safe house’s gates. A short time later, Norvela and Tedehan’s platoon clattered into the courtyard. True to his word, Histrun set a grueling pace back to Dehanrolos Keep. Fortunately, they didn’t run into any monsters to slow them down, and they arrived in the late afternoon two days later.

  He declined Norvela’s offer to stay the night and crossed the bridge into Haasneven Keep. He sent Lorstriel and Lestrun down to the docks to inquire after a boat to take them back upriver, while he, Naila, and the others went to the keep-house to pay their respects to the alphas since they hadn’t done so when they rode through the first time.

  He glanced over at Naila riding at his side, and felt a wave of grief sweep over him. It should be Zehala riding next to me. He looked away and swallowed the lump in his throat.

  “Histrun,” Naila croaked.

  When he looked back at her, she continued in mind-speech, *I know I’m not her, but don’t shut me out, Histrun. I loved her as well, you know. She was my mother. I’m grieving too. We all are.*

  Histrun bent his head, shame filling him. He was acting like he was the only one hurt by Zehala’s death. “I’m sorry. I’ll try.”

  She nodded once in acceptance. Her bandages had been removed, revealing a nasty, ridged scar encircling her neck where the janack’s tentacle had wrapped around her.

  “Does it hurt?”

  “Talking does,” she croaked, and swallowed hard several times. *It’s easier this way.*


  *Sir!* Lorstriel’s mind-voice interrupted. *You’ll never believe who is here. Captain Daelena with her barge the Dawn Sister. She says she can take us upriver. She’ll be ready to shove off once we’re all loaded on. Give her an octar.*

  “We have a ride upriver,” Histrun said, blowing out a relieved breath, then began to turn his horse back toward the docks.

  *I heard. It gives us time to meet with the Haasneven alphas.* She reined in her horse, then twisted in the saddle. *Maheli, take our horses to the barge. The rest of you, go with her and help Daelena and her crew.*

  Naila slid off her horse without waiting for Histrun. Maheli saluted her and held out her hand for the reins.

  A smile played at the corners of his mouth to see Naila take charge and assume the role of alpha. With Zehala gone, they had been missing a female alpha. Not anymore. She would make a good keep alpha someday. He threw his leg over Telen’s back and dropped to the ground, then handed his reins to Maheli.

  Naila straightened her shoulders and her jacket, and together they went to see the keep alphas. When the alphas saw her injury and heard about Zehala’s death, they didn’t prolong the meeting or insist they spend the night. Histrun and Naila strode down the dock to the Dawn Sister well within the allotted octar.

  Daelena met them at the gangplank, her honey-yellow eyes full of compassion. “Good to see you again, Histrun, Naila. My deepest condolences on your loss. I really liked Zehala.”

  Histrun blinked his eyes, willing the tears away. “Thank you. How far up the Storengher River can you take us? I have her ashes and want to get her home as quickly as possible.”

  Daelena ran a hand through her azure-blue hair. “Normally we don’t go much past Haaslair Province. The Storengher be a feisty beast as it runs through Strunlair Province. But as summer be nearly half over, the river be a bit calmer. I’ll take you as far as I can. No guarantees how far into Strunlair we can go.”

  “I’ll take whatever you can give me.”

  He crossed the springy plank and boarded the barge, then trudged to the cabin house and claimed a spot out of the sun and wind. He slid to the hard, wooden deck, his back against the cabin, and dug the carved wooden box with Zehala’s ashes out from his packs, along with a ceramic jug of hard cider. Holding the box in his lap, he sipped on the liquor, letting it warm his belly.

  Zehala love, I miss you. His head started to buzz from the alcohol, and he leaned it back, closed his eyes, and shut out the noise of the barge getting under way. If any problems came up, he was confident Naila could competently handle them. He was tired, so tired, of trying to act normal when his soul had been so horribly sundered. He only roused from his stupor to drink more and relieve himself.

  “Histrun …”

  The voice sounded far away.

  “Histrun! Wake up!”

  Now the voice sounded irritated, and a shove accompanied it.

  “Wha … what?” He opened bleary eyes to find Maheli leaning over him and shaking him. He waved her off and fumbled to sit up, then rubbed his eyes, blinking at the bright sun. “What do you need?” he grumbled.

  “Ugh, you’re a grouchy drunk. Not to mention a stinky one,” Maheli said, waving her hand in front of her face. “We’re approaching Haasnelyn Keep. Naila wants to know if you want us to stop for the night. Daelena is willing to send a messenger to let them know you’re here.”

  “Why would I want to talk to them?” he groused. He scrunched up his face at the awful taste in his mouth.

  “I don’t know, because they’re friends?”

  “Don’t get uppity with me, girl. No, no need to stop. We’ve been gone from home too long. Let’s just get Zehala home.” With one hand he cradled the box and with the other he patted around his spot for his jug. Finding it, he lifted it to his lips only to find it empty.

  Maheli turned to leave.

  “Wait! Be a good girl and get me another jug.” He held up the empty one, shaking it so she’d know nothing sloshed inside.

  “That’s just what you need.” She rolled her eyes and stomped off.

  Just as he decided she wasn’t going to come back, and he’d have to go find his own drink, she slapped a full jug into his hands.

  “That’s a good girl.” He slid back down to the deck.

  “It isn’t from me,” she huffed. “I’d make you dry out. But Naila pities you. Go on, stay drunk. We don’t need you any way.”

  Histrun frowned, trying to make sense of her words. When he looked up to ask her what she meant, she was gone. Shrugging, he gulped down more cider, sighing as the fog swept over him, easing the pain in his heart.

  Histrun’s head slammed against the deck, startling him to awareness. Rain lashed down to soak him and the deck as the barge rocked and bucked like an angered stallion. He began to roll toward the railing, and the roiling, white water. He scrambled to grab onto the railing just before he slid over.

  “What in Crone’s fires is going on?” he hollered.

  Strong hands grabbed him about the waist and dragged him back onto the deck. “Let’s get you strapped down.” Eidelstrun carried him back to the cabin house.

  “What’s going on?” Histrun demanded.

  “A storm slammed into us before Daelena could find a safe spot to tie up the barge. We’re having to fight the storm and the river.” Eidelstrun looped a strong rope around Histrun’s waist and tied it onto a bolt on the deck Histrun hadn’t noticed before. “Here, stay here.” He patted Histrun on the shoulder, like a small child, then rushed off.

  “I don’t need to be tied down!” Histrun yelled. The wind tore the words away almost before they left his mouth. “At least you could have put me inside the cabin so I’d be dry,” he muttered. Then he realized the box with Zehala’s ashes in it wasn’t in his hands. “Zehala!” He tried to slide out from underneath the rope binding him to the deck, but it held him too fast. He struggled with cold fingers to untie the knot. It wouldn’t give. “Goddess, no, no. Zehala!” He repeated the desperate cry over and over.

  “Shh … Histrun, shh.” Naila’s rough voice, and mind-speech, penetrated his fog. “I have her.”

  He sagged against the rope, not caring that tears streamed down his face. “Thank you, Naila, Thank you.”

  After what seemed like forever, the river under them quit bucking and the sky above them cleared. Eidelstrun came by and had to cut the ropes to free Histrun from his bonds. They had been the only things that kept him safely on the barge. The days—he wasn’t sure how many—of drinking and mourning had left him weaker than he wanted to admit. He stood on shaky legs, and once they stopped trembling, made his way to the railing where Naila stood.

  “Where are we?” His voice was as shaky as his legs.

  “Almost home,” she croaked. *I’m not sure how Daelena did it, but we’re in Strunlair Province. Once she finds a place we can moor, we’ll disembark.*

  “Was anyone injured or lost in that storm?”

  She shook her head. “Lucky, and Daelena’s a good sailor.”

  He peered at the sun, trying to gauge how many days had passed, then shook his head. “How long have we been on the river?”

  “Eight days.”

  He whistled in surprise at how long he’d been out of it. He placed a hand over hers. “I’m sorry I’ve acted like a fool since we boarded.”

  “It’s okay. I understand.” She made a face and a frustrated sound, then switched to mind-speech. *We all grieve in our own ways. At least on the river we didn’t need you for any monster battles.*

  He turned his gaze onto the passing shore, happy to see familiar landscape sliding by. “I’m not sure I can fight another battle, after … after what happened to Zehala, and you. I’m old. I’ve fought for over seventy-five years. I think I’m done.”

  *Don’t make any rash decisions. Take time to fully mourn and to heal before making such a choice. You still have a lot to offer.*

  “Thank you for that, Naila.” He turned to face her and smiled. “She would be s
o proud of you and how, even injured, you’ve stepped up and taken charge.”

  Naila smiled. *She taught me well. You both did.*

  Histrun returned his gaze back to the shore, awkwardly patting her hand. Zehala had always been better showing affection than him.

  Ahead, an outcropping of rocks formed a deep pool alongside the shore. Shouts and cries went up from the sailors as they scurried across the deck. The barge slowly turned into the small harbor and bumped into the banks. Sailors jumped off, tying the barge on the rocks and nearby trees. Histrun recognized the area. Strunland Keep lay only ten measures to the northeast.

  Once they secured the barge, Daelena joined Histrun and Naila at the railing. “The Dawn Sister be as far up the Storengher as she can go. You’ll have to finish your journey across land.”

  “This is much farther than I expected you to take us, Daelena,” Histrun said.

  “It be farther than I expected! That last white water be tricky, especially going upriver. It should be a blast going down.” Daelena extended her hand. “I be truly sorry about Zehala’s death and wish you and your clan the best. If you need to travel the river again, I’d be happy to carry you.”

  “Even after I’ve been a drunken sod this whole trip?”

  “Even so. At least you were quiet, except when you tried to sing.”

  Histrun frowned. “I didn’t. I don’t sing.”

  “Oh, we know,” Daelena said with a laugh.

  Histrun felt his ears warm. He knew he had a horrible voice and sang way off-key. Zehala had been the singer. Her voice could charm the birds to sing with her.

  He gripped her wrist in farewell and watched in amusement as she and Naila hugged. Zehala would have done the same thing. The breeze shifted and Histrun caught a whiff of himself. While the horses were being unloaded, he took the time to find a spot and bathe. Feeling more like himself, he ordered his pack to mount. With a wave to Daelena and her sailors, Histrun led the way from the river toward Strunland Keep. Home. Almost home at last.