Redemption: A Malvers War Story

by Tora Moon

  Histrun gaped in surprise. He hadn’t known animals went to the Summerlands, or even really thought about what happened to them when they died. That was the priestesses’ area of expertise. But as he thought about it now, he realized the animals were also the Goddess’s children, so it made sense they would return to her in death. He shuddered to think that the Malvers monsters would also cross the veil.

  “No silly,” Wisah said, “they weren’t created by the Goddess.”

  Histrun stared down at her head. He hadn’t thought he’d voiced that out loud, and he certainly hadn’t said it in mind-speech. It was a good thing Wisah was going to the Supreme for training.

  Chapter 14

  The next day the children were subdued as they rode surrounded by the fighters. All through the morning, they’d jump and twitch at every snap of a twig or the rustle of leaves, anticipating another paether attack. They finally settled down after the midday break, although they were still quiet. By late afternoon, when the spires of Strunhelos came into view, the children were back to being noisy and playing. It amazed Histrun how quickly the young recovered. Unlike the old like me. It had been over a lunadar since Zehala’s death, but the wound in his heart was as painful now as it had been that first day. Histrun doubted it would ever heal—but did he want it to? Would that mean he’d forget Zehala?

  They turned a bend on the road, and Strunhelos Keep came into view. It squatted in front of a tall, sheer cliff devoid of plant-life. The mica in the sheadash stone shimmered as the late afternoon sun touched the walls. Strunhelos Keep had guarded the pass into the White Mountains and the Sanctuary for thousands of years. The garrison was smaller and more fortified than any keep built since the Great War. From his time as the Strunlair Clan Alpha, Histrun knew the walls were strengthened by Black Talent to withstand almost any magical attack devised, as attested by the big, black spots marring the thick stone walls that were the remnants of the magical battles fought during the Great War. Sadly, the spell couldn’t be replicated in modern times. No one had been born with Black Talent born since the end of the Great War.

  Later that night, while everyone else slept, Histrun stood at the window of his room. They were in the safety of the keep, so he succumbed to his craving and heavily dosed his taevo with whiskey—he hadn’t had a drink since the night with Felstrun—and stared at the mountain peaks rearing behind the cliff. Even in these last days of summer, the peaks were covered in snow. His mind wandered back in time to the Alpha Competition when he’d first met Zehala. He swore. He’d forgotten that even the Sanctuary held memories of her. He turned away from the window, downed the last of his drink, then crawled into the cold bed. He missed her warm presence at his back while he slept.

  The next morning, the cliff overhead shadowed the road into the pass. They soon entered what appeared to be a cave, but after a few feet it turned into a narrow tunnel, only wide enough for a single horse. The tunnel opened into a road only a little wider than the tunnel. The steep cliffs towered over them, forming a narrow canyon. Nothing grew on the rocky cliffs, and the smooth surface didn’t provide any handholds. The horse’s hooves echoed off the walls, and guards patrolled along the top of the cliff, longbows strapped to their backs.

  He glanced back at the gaggle of children, which had grown again when he’d left Strunhelos Keep by two white-headed little girls. All the girls were gleefully taking turns shouting their names, and laughing as they echoed back to them. He liked it better when they were quiet and subdued. He’d be glad when they reached the Sanctuary in a few days and he’d be able to turn them over the Supreme and her White Priestesses and be quit of his escort duty.

  The cliffs receded abruptly, almost as if they’d been hewn from the mountains to create the pass. The landscape opened to reveal forest and meadow. The trees marched up the slopes, and Histrun could see the road winding through them. Later in the day when they reached the cutoff for the shortcut through the forest, Histrun contemplated taking it. It would cut their journey in half, but then a giggle reminded him of his charges. They couldn’t rough it and spend the nights in caves. Besides, they didn’t have the necessary supplies. With a sigh of frustration, Histrun led the group past the cutoff, staying on the road.

  Four days later, they topped a rise that overlooked the Sanctuary grounds. Even here, where there wasn’t the danger of Malvers monsters, narhili beasts, or paether, walls enclosed the living space. It seemed strange not to see any walls surrounding the fields and pastures that covered the wide valley. Close to their destination, Histrun increased the pace, not allowing the youngsters to gawk at their new home. In a short time, they approached the gates. At the sight of fifteen girls with White and Gray Talents, the guards waved them through.

  They entered a small cobblestone courtyard. A door on one side led to the cloisters, which Histrun, as a male, had never seen. It would be the childrens’ new home. The opposite side held the door leading to the guest area, where he and his people would stay. Several brown-haired women hustled from the stable next to the gate. The two journeyman priestesses jumped off their horses, and worked to removed their saddlebags with their few personal belongings. The Sanctuary would provide anything they needed.

  “We’ll take care of the horses,” the horse-master told Histrun. “I’ve called a girl to guide your people to the guest houses.”

  Histrun nodded and climbed off Telen, patting him fondly as he undid the buckles securing his bags to the saddle. The children had also dismounted, and looked around the courtyard in confusion. The door to the cloister banged open, and a middle-aged priestess with white hair and kind, gray eyes bustled into the courtyard. Histrun had somehow expected the Supreme to greet the new arrivals, but then he remembered the Supreme’s stern visage that intimated even him, and he could see the wisdom of having someone gentle, like this woman seemed to be, welcome the children.

  She smiled and opened her arms to the youngsters. “Welcome, little ones, to your new home,” she said. “I’m Blenora, and I’ll show you to your dormitory. We’re so happy to have more priestesses to serve the Goddess.” She turned to the two teenage girls in the group. “Polvera, Jaekara, glad to have you back with us. Your rooms will be in the acolyte dormitory. But before you head there, could you help me get these little ones settled?”

  The two teenagers nodded, and in a few minutes the courtyard had cleared of children. Histrun took a deep breath. He was free! He wouldn’t have to deal with the inane chatter of little girls any longer. The door to the guest area opened, and an adolescent girl with pale brown hair stood on the opposite side. Once she knew they’d seen her, she turned on her heel and headed back into the guest area. Histrun and the others hurried to catch up.

  They walked along a cobblestone road lined with trees. Flowers bordered the road and manicured grass led to the various pack-houses on the street. At the first pack-house in the row, the girl stopped and waved for them to enter. As soon as they climbed the steps to the wide porch, she turned and ran away. The porch had several tables and chairs strewn about for guests to gather outside. Inside, an older woman with chestnut-brown hair and an air of authority around her waited for them.

  “Please excuse the girl,” she said. Her smiled crinkled her yellow-green eyes at the corners. “Raemy is unused to seeing so many males around. But this is good training for her so she won’t be so nervous next summer when we’re inundated with the Alpha Competitions. Welcome to the Sanctuary. This will be your home while you stay here. Rooms have been made ready for you, and meals will be served in the recreation room down the hall.” She indicated the left-hand side corridor.

  “You’re welcome to explore anywhere on this side of the temple grounds, and to attend services in the temple. But please, do not enter the cloisters. They are reserved for only the priestesses. The baths are downstairs. Just follow that hallway.” She indicated the opposite hall. “There are bell-pulls throughout the house that will summon one of the household staff if you should need anything. Histrun
, the Supreme will meet with you in the morning after breakfast. A runner will come to escort you. Please enjoy your stay with us.” She bowed hurried down the left-hand hall, then disappeared through a door.

  Histrun smiled in bemusement. In all that spiel, she hadn’t told them her name.

  “It looks like we have the house to ourselves,” he said. “The bedrooms are upstairs. Most are dormitory-style, except the one at the end of the right-hand corridor. That’s reserved for the alphas. I’ll take that one. Go find a bedroom for yourselves and enjoy the baths. I’ll see you all later at dinner.”

  “When will we know when it’s ready?” Maheli asked. Her eyes were wide as she took in the strangeness of her first time in the Sanctuary.

  “They’ll ring a bell,” Lorstriel said. She and Naila had attended the last Alpha Competitions with Koriana and Kolstrun as an honor guard. They were both training to become leaders. Perhaps one day they’d even become keep alphas.

  Histrun detoured to the recreation room, and strode straight to the well-stocked liquor cabinet. There were no more little girls to worry about, and he needed to relax from the long journey. Grabbing a bottle of brandy and a glass, he climbed the stairs to the room he’d claimed. He tossed his saddlebag on the desk, and sank into the chair. He poured himself a glass of brandy, and sighed in pleasure as the warmth crept down his throat. There were too many memories of being here with Zehala, of competing and winning the competitions, and their enthusiastic celebrations. If he remembered correctly, this had been the room they’d shared and made love in the first time.

  By the time the dinner bell rang, Histrun had passed out.

  Histrun woke up to someone banging on his door and Lorstriel’s insistent voice yelling.

  “Wake up, Histrun!” Lorstriel repeated. “You’re going to be late for your meeting with the Supreme.”

  Groaning, Histrun pried his eyes open, blinking at the bright morning light spilling through the window. He made a face at the nasty taste in his mouth. He glanced down at his rumpled clothing. He sat up and held his aching head between his hands.

  “Histrun!” Lorstriel banged on the door again.

  He pushed himself to his feet and staggered to the door. Lorstriel nearly pounded on his nose as he flung open the door.

  “I’m awake. Do I have time to bathe and eat first?”

  “Yes. When you didn’t come down for dinner last night, we figured you were up here drinking again. I allowed plenty of time for you to clean up before your meeting.”

  Histrun patted her on the cheek. “You’re a good kid, Lorstriel.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’ll meet you in the recreation room. For some reason, the Supreme also wants to see me.” She tromped down the stairs.

  He was still eating his breakfast when the same girl from the day before entered the recreation room. She glanced back at the head housekeeper, who stood at the door and made an encouraging motion with her hand. “Sir …” the girl squeaked. She swallowed hard, then tried again, this time her voice stronger. “Sir, the Supreme will see you and Lorstriel now. If you’ll follow me, I’ll guide you to the audience chamber.” She looked again at the head housekeeper, who smiled at her.

  “Good job, Raemy,” the housekeeper said. “Now come and wait by the door for them. Remember to walk ahead of them, don’t run.”

  The girl nodded and fled to the housekeeper’s side.

  Histrun shoved his last piece of toast into his mouth, and washed it down with the remaining taevo in his mug. Wiping off his mouth, he pushed away from the table. He walked cautiously toward the girl, and treating her like a frightened animal, he made sure not to make any sudden moves. He smiled at her, but that just caused her to duck behind the housekeeper. He looked over at Lorstriel and shrugged.

  “It’s your beard, I think,” she said. “You didn’t trim it much. It’s all bushy and hides your face.”

  He smoothed a hand over his beard, frowning. He thought it was nicely thick and full. It would keep his face warm when winter hit. He motioned for Lorstriel to go ahead of him. Raemy seemed less intimidated by her.

  The girl led them to the gate, then across the entry courtyard and to the gate that led into the main Sanctuary grounds. She barely kept her pace under a sprint, but Histrun and Lorstriel’s longer legs easily kept up with her. Inside the temple, the same priestess, Blenora, stopped them.

  “It’s okay, Raemy, I’ll take them from here.” She gave the girl a gentle pat on the back. “You did well. You can return to Naedera for your next chores.”

  Histrun assumed Naedera was the head housekeeper.

  Blenora turned back to Histrun and Lorstriel. “Welcome to the Sanctuary. The Supreme has asked me to accompany you to this meeting. If you’ll follow me.”

  She sedately walked across the chamber, giving Histrun time to appreciate the beauty of the space. Three walls were filled with familiar murals and statues depicting the Goddess’s four faces. He turned his attention to his favorite, the fourth wall. Images of the Consort filled it—from a small boy, experiencing the joy of shifting to his wolf form for the first time to a venerable sage with a long beard, wrinkled face, and kind, wise eyes. The images made him proud to be a Posair male and reminded him that his power and strength were for the protection of his people, and must be tempered with compassion. They were the things Mendehan had forgotten in his madness. Histrun dipped his head and prayed he would remember the Consort’s lessons.

  Blenora led them through a door in the rear of the chamber, her pace picking up as they moved through the corridors, until a huge, black ironwood door barred their way into the audience chamber. Two women, each holding a helbraught, their faces veiled and wearing red leather, stood guard on either side of the door. They nodded at Blenora, and the one on the right opened the door for them.

  White sheadash and marble formed the audience chamber’s floors and walls. The huge space could fit several hundred people inside of it. White curtains hung on the windows and scented white pillar candles were lit even though sunlight filled the room. A dais sat on the far end with a crystal throne on it. An aging woman sat on the throne, wearing a dazzling white silk gown that covered her feet and a white veil covered her hair. She had white hair and white eyes. The Supreme. She had been the Supreme Histrun’s entire lifetime.

  Ten paces from the throne, they dropped to their knees and made the gesture of obeisance and honor to the representative of the Goddess. The cold marble stone floor seeped through Histrun’s trousers, making his knees ache. She didn’t make them kneel long before she bade them to rise. He grimaced as he rose, fighting the desire to rub the cold from his knees. To do so would be a great breach of etiquette.

  She surveyed him for a long moment. Her piercing gaze felt like she delved into his soul. He pulled on the expressionless mask he’d learned as an alpha to hide his thoughts from his face, and tried not to fidget like some boy caught misbehaving.

  “Histrun,” the Supreme finally said, her voice husky and dry. “Thank you for escorting our newest priestesses and keeping them safe on the journey. I hear you had problems with paether near Strunhelos Keep.”

  “Yes, your grace. But the Zehis method is working in Strunlair Province. We didn’t have to battle any Malvers monsters.”

  “That is a relief and good to hear. And has the last province, Dehanlair, been taught this method?”

  “Yes, your grace, just this past Sandar.”

  “What can you tell me about Mendehan? I haven’t heard from my priestesses in many lunadars. I fear there are problems there.”

  “There were, but no more. An illness had infected Mendehan, warping his mind and soul. I fulfilled my duty and put down the rogue, freeing his people from his tyranny.”

  The Supreme’s eyes narrowed at the mention of an illness. “Come closer,” she beckoned him forward. “I would see into your mind all that transpired with Mendehan. I do not believe this illness to be natural.”

  Histrun stepped forward. He had heard
about the Supreme’s ability to delve into a person’s mind and read the truth. He’d also heard it was an unpleasant, painful experience.

  The Supreme frowned at him. “Closer. I need to touch you. Considering your age, you may sit at my feet rather than kneel.” She indicated a stool at the side of her throne.

  He placed it at her feet and gingerly sat on it, anxiously waiting for the pain to begin.

  The Supreme put cool fingers on Histrun’s face, her fingertips touching the meridian points. “Relax,” she chided. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  Histrun closed his eyes, and went through the mental exercises he’d learned to relax his muscles.

  “Good. Now go back to the journey to Dehanlair Keep and remember all that transpired.” The Supreme’s calm, soothing voice put Histrun into a trance.

  Unbidden came the memories of laughing with Zehala, of listening to her sing him a lullaby as she gently stroked his face, of staring up at the stars sweeping across the vast sky in the plains. These were gradually replaced by the horrors of what he’d seen Mendehan do to his people, and the tragedy of losing Zehala, and the last foggy chedans of his grief. The Supreme released him, at last. Drained, he slumped against her legs, trembling, and holding a fist over his mouth to keep the grief from pouring from his mouth in a sob.

  Warm, gentle fingers brushed the hair from his face and pressed a cup to his lips. He sipped the cool liquid, surprised at how dry his mouth had become. He opened his eyes to see Blenora’s compassionate face. She helped him to his feet and led him off the dais. She handed him the cup and motioned for him to drink more.

  “Lorstriel, did you also see these crimes Mendehan committed?” The tightness around the Supreme’s eyes and mouth belied her calm voice.

  Lorstriel nodded. “Y-yes, your grace,” she stammered.

  She gripped her hands together in front of her. But even so, Histrun could see them trembling. He wanted to reassure her, to tell her the experience wasn’t so bad, that his pain came from within and not from anything the Supreme had imposed on him. But he couldn’t get the words out. He took a drink to moisten his mouth, but by then Lorstriel was already kneeling at the Supreme’s feet.