Redemption: A Malvers War Story Read online

  Contents

  Title

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Epilogue

  Appendix

  The World

  Glossary

  Also by

  Thank you

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  REDEMPTION: A MALVERS WAR STORY

  Tora Moon

  Redemption: A Malvers War Story

  Copyright © 2017 by Tora Moon

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.

  Lunar Alchemy Publishing Company

  www.ToraMoon.com

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Editing by: Amy Maddox at The Blue Pencil www.thebluepencil.us

  Cover by: Deranged Doctor Design www.derangeddoctordesign.com

  Redemption, A Malvers War Story/Tora Moon -- 1st ed.

  ISBN 978-1-946132-12-3

  Some devices may display a blank page after the images. We apologize for this inconvenience.

  Chapter 1

  Activity filled the stable and courtyard as the platoon of fighters readied their horses. The early morning sunlight caught the temple’s crystal dome, sending rainbow light across the courtyard. Histrun led his big, black stallion, Telen, through the organized chaos and tied him to the hitching post in front of the keep-house. A dark-blue roan mare with blue-gray stripes and a white mane, tail, and socks stood dozing with her rear leg cocked. Kylara opened her eyes when Histrun tied Telen next to her and nosed him. Histrun looked around but couldn’t see Kylara’s rider, and his bond-mate, Zehala.

  He climbed the steps to the keep-house, but before he could open the door, it flung open, revealing a woman with bright-red hair streaked with gold and light yellow-gold eyes. Naila, Zehala’s eldest daughter, hurried out.

  He stepped back quickly to avoid her crashing into him. “Do you know where Zehala is? It’s nearly time to leave.”

  Naila laughed. “Of course I do. Where else would she be? She’s in the crèche. It’s where I’m heading now.” She skipped down the stairs. “Are you coming?”

  Histrun envied her youth and energy. He sighed as he ran a hand through his red hair, the once bright color now dull with age, and trudged down the stairs. Even in retirement from being a clan alpha, he kept active and could still fight the Malvers monsters with the younger fighters. Over the years, they had traveled the length and breadth of Lairheim teaching the new fighting method to the other clans, and it was wearing him down. This would be their last training mission.

  Only one more clan was left to teach. The Dehanlair clan alpha, Mendehan, had refused to learn the method, mostly because he and Histrun were bitter rivals—and he was a stubborn old fool. He’d finally relented to the pressure from his people but had insisted that he’d only learn the new life-saving method from its creators, Histrun and Zehala. Histrun distrusted the request. His past dealings with Mendehan that hadn’t ended well made him uneasy.

  Shaking off the apprehension, Histrun hurried to catch up to Naila. They soon left the courtyard’s bustle and noise behind and entered the quieter sections of the keep. In the well-protected center, amid a sea of grass, stood a large stone house. Toys and playground equipment littered the yard, which was encircled by a sheadash stone fence. Their feet crunched on the crushed sheadash stone walkway. The ten-foot wide path and the fence ensured that if any Malvers monsters made it this far into the keep, the Posairs’ children would be safe.

  The constant threat of attack and the fighter’s need to always be ready to battle the monsters meant their children were raised by caregivers and lived together in the crèche. Histrun believed the tradition was a good practice. He didn’t need to be distracted by little ones. He’d been raised in a crèche and had never suffered for lack of attention or love. He didn’t understand Zehala and Naila’s need to stay in contact with their daughters after they were turned over to the crèche. Other women he knew hadn’t done so—certainly not his last lover, Sujeen. As soon as the twins had been weaned, they had been placed in the crèche, and Sujeen had returned to her training to become the next clan alpha of Strunlair. He’d rarely seen them after that.

  He and Naila quietly entered the house. A woman with dark-auburn hair sat in a chair, holding two little girls the same age on her lap, singing softly. One had red-brown hair and the other creamy-white hair with thin streaks of gray. The white-haired girl looked up, her joyful smile lit up her pale blue eyes.

  “Mama!” she cried, wiggling off Zehala’s lap and running to Naila.

  Naila picked her up. “My, you’re getting big, Wisah.”

  “I’m almost five,” Wisah said solemnly. “Did you come to tell us a story?”

  Naila shook her head. “No, I came to say good-bye. We have to go Dehanlair Province and teach more people how to fight the Malvers monsters better.”

  “So more people don’t die and cross the veil.” Wisah tucked her head into Naila’s shoulder. “I don’t like seeing them die. They are so sad, until they see the Goddess.”

  Histrun’s eyes widened. He hadn’t realized Wisah’s powers were opening up already, or that they were so strong. She’d need to be sent to the Sanctuary soon to train her White and Gray Talents and become a White Priestess. A person’s Talents determined the work they did to support the whole community. His gaze turned back to the auburn-headed girl, watching them with her big, brown eyes. Rizelya would follow in her mother’s—and his—footsteps and be a warrior, fighting the Malvers monsters for everyone’s survival. He wondered if she’d also become a leader like her parents had been.

  Rizelya climbed off Zehala’s lap and slowly approached Histrun. “Bright blessings, sir.”

  He crouched down so he didn’t loom over the little girl. “Bright blessings, Rizelya. Have you learned anything new?”

  She nodded, a smile lighting up her face as she opened her hand. A tiny flame appeared on her palm for a few moments before fading away.

  Histrun returned her smile. “That’s very good. Soon you’ll be able to make it dance.” He’d been worried she had too much Brown Talent to be a strong Red. They needed Reds to fight the monsters, not more Browns to till the earth or tend the flocks. “Practice hard and eat your food so you can grow up to be a strong fighter like your mother.”

  “Yes, sir.” She continued to stand in front of him, hope gleaming from her eyes.

  He relented and gave her an awkward hug. He looked over her shoulder at Zehala to see her beaming at him. If it made his bond-mate happy to show affection to the waif, he would. “It’s time to go.”

  Zehala nodded and joined them. She picked up Rizelya and squeezed her. “Mama has to go teach people how to fight the monsters. I’ll be gone a long time—a lunadar. When the largest moon, Kelar, grows big and fat, I will be back. When I get back, I’ll teach you more fire magic tricks. I love you, Rizelya baby.”

  “I don’t want you t
o go,” Rizelya cried, clinging tighter to Zehala’s neck. “Take me with you. I’ll be good.”

  “You know I can’t do that. It’s too dangerous. You stay here and watch over your niece Wisah. She needs you to be strong. Can you do that?”

  Rizelya nodded, tears streaming down her face. “Love you, Mama.”

  Both children were crying and hanging onto their mother’s necks. Zehala and Naila also had wet cheeks. Histrun cringed at all the emotion and itched to rush from the room. Give him a good, fierce battle any day over weepy women and children. Finally, caregivers came into the room and took the children away. Histrun couldn’t help his huge sigh of relief. Zehala glared at him.

  “Let’s go,” she said as she strode out of the room.

  Histrun and Naila hurried to catch up with her.

  “The faster we leave, the faster we can return. Histrun, this is the last time I’m leaving my baby. When we get back, I’m not leaving again.”

  “Do you really think you can just be a fighter?” If it hadn’t been for all the training trips over the past few years, he would have gone crazy. He’d been a keep or clan alpha for too many years to be happy being just a platoon alpha. He thought he could when he retired with Zehala. But he needed more.

  Zehala laughed. “No. You know me too well. Next year at the Alpha Competitions, I’m going to challenge Koriana for the Strunland Keep Alpha position. That way I’ll have to stay here. We’ve trained enough people over the years that we shouldn’t have to continue doing it.”

  Histrun grinned. “Good! I need to be more than a platoon alpha.”

  They reached the courtyard. The earlier chaos had settled down. The horses were now saddled and packs were tied onto the multas. As soon as their fighting-pack saw them, they stopped chatting and mounted their horses.

  Alpha Koriana stood on the porch, her vermilion-red hair pulled into a tight bun. She leaned her hands on the railing. Kolstrun, her co-alpha, stood at the edge of the steps, his arms crossed over his chest and his green eyes narrowed in a scowl. He wore his russet-brown hair cut close. Both alphas were young for keep alphas, barely fifty. Histrun decided he’d challenge the unpleasant man when Zehala challenged Koriana. Strunland would prosper better under his and Zehala’s leadership than it was doing under the current alphas.

  “You’re finally here,” Kolstrun sneered. “You need to get your pack out of here so the fighters can leave.”

  Histrun glanced up at the early morning sun, then glared back at Kolstrun. “There’s plenty of time. The nest won’t be active for another octar or more. The fighters will be able to arrive before then.”

  Koriana rolled her eyes at Kolstrun before smiling at Histrun and Zehala. “Don’t worry about him. Everything is under control. Have a safe journey, and we’ll see you in a lunadar or so.”

  Histrun gave a sarcastic salute to the pair, and turned to mount his horse. It grated at him that he must now follow his juniors, not only in years but also in experience. Yes, it’s time to take back the leadership role from these youngsters.

  Zehala and Naila had also mounted. As Histrun lifted his fist high in the air, quiet filled the courtyard. “Let’s go!” He dropped his fist and nudged Telen forward. Thirty-four battle-hardened warriors and six teenagers followed him out the gates.

  * * *

  Histrun set the pace at a fast trot while they passed through the pastures and fields surrounding Strunland Keep. It seemed strange to him not to see a teenage Red and her counterpart wolf patrolling between the fields, ready to warn of approaching Malvers monsters. He hated to see the practice fall into disuse. Strunland Keep had been using the fighting method developed by him and Zehala, the Zehis method—he snorted at the name—for the last decade. In view of its effectiveness, Kolstrun didn’t want to waste resources on an outmoded tradition. It gave Histrun one more reason to challenge Kolstrun next year. Histrun remembered spending countless days loping beside his friend’s horse as they patrolled the fields. It had taught him how to use his nose, how to shift quickly, and how to fight. He’d gained a sense of honor and duty, which the teenagers today lacked. When he became the keep alpha, he’d reinstate the practice.

  As soon as they were past the fenced-in pastures and fields, Histrun picked up the pace. They had a thousand measures to cross before they reached their destination, Dehanlair Province. To speed their journey, when they reached Haaslair Province they would catch a barge to travel south on the Storengher River. Few ships braved the rough and wild river in their own Strunlair Province. Once the river passed out of Strunlair, it changed from the tumultuous waters speeding down the mountains into a wide, placid, gentle waterway.

  He led them in a walk, trot, gallop, trot, walk that ate up the measures while keeping the horses healthy. They didn’t need a lame horse this early in their journey.

  The land soon changed from cultivated fields to wild meadows. Tall pine trees lined the roadway, interspersed with birch and oak trees. The road avoided the known monster nest sites, but even so, beyond the crushed sheadash stone road, wide swaths of dead trees, killed by the monster’s toxic slime, marked where they had passed several years ago. In those areas, new trees, only a few feet tall, reached for the sky, and grass and flowers covered the ground. Now the forest wasn’t constantly bombarded with rampaging monsters, it could regenerate.

  As they rode, Histrun watched the horizon for any tentacles or bouncing spines that would herald a janack or brecha, even though he knew that by taking the fight to the nest sites they were eliminating the threat of roaming monsters. Old habits were hard to change, though, especially for an old wolf like himself. The day wore on with no sign of monsters.

  “What’s wrong?” Zehala asked, riding beside him. “You’re grumbling under your breath.”

  “This is so strange.” Histrun shifted in his saddle. “We’ve already traveled thirty measures and haven’t seen any monsters. This may turn out to be a boring journey.”

  “I’ll take boring and safe.” Zehala smiled, then sighed. “I’m tired of fighting to survive. We developed the Zehis method so we could do more than just that. I fervently hope it allows our people to thrive and prosper. We’ve fallen into a sort of stagnation, being in a never-ending war with the monsters. You’ve seen the ruins of our ancestors, and what they had accomplished. There’s much we can’t do anymore. For example, the crystal stemware we used in Strunlair Keep. We can’t make that type of crystal now. I want more for Rizelya than just a life of fighting.”

  “It will take more than just one simple fighting method for that change to happen. We have to destroy the swamps that spawn the monsters, and no one has discovered how to do that.”

  “I know. I can hope though.” Zehala looked away.

  They arrived at the safe house for the night in the twilight’s shadows. Zehala’s wish for an uneventful day had been answered, but Histrun wasn’t sure he liked boring and safe.

  Two more days of tedious riding made Histrun jittery. He’d never experienced so many quiet days on the road. Another few measures and they would pass out of Strunland Territory and the regularly patrolled nest sites.

  The gentle downward slope took them out of the trees as they left the foothills. On the horizon, the golden plains grass undulated like waves in the slight breeze. Out of habit, Histrun took a deep breath, sampling the scents in the air. His eyes flew open, and he let his breath go in a whoosh.

  “Monsters!” he yelled.

  Tension filled the air as the women reached for their helbraughts, and the men reached for the magic that allowed them to change into fearsome warriors that were more than a match for the monsters. Histrun scanned the area, trying to locate where the monster stench had originated. He twisted in his saddle toward the trees behind them in time to see a flock of crows burst from cover and into the sky. A long tentacle snaked into the air, snatching a slow bird from the sky. Histrun threw his horse’s reins at Zehala, and jumped from the saddle, shifting as he landed.

  His bones le
ngthened and his muscles bulked. Fur sprouted to cover his skin. In less than a milcron, the change was completed, and he shook out the last tingles. He now stood nearly nine feet tall and weighed 150 pounds more than normal. The long claws on his hands could slash and rip through the tough monster hides. His powerful jaws were now filled with sharp teeth. His saliva was a deadly toxin to the monsters and he had venom sacks under the pads of his front claws. The warrior form was built for one thing: to destroy and kill the Malvers monsters.

  He felt the shiver of magic in the air as the other men also shifted into their warrior forms. The teenagers in the group grabbed the horse’s reins, and pulled them into a tight group; they had been brought along for that purpose, and for training. The boys would shift to their warrior forms if the horses were threatened, and Maheli and Andriel, the two girls, would use their helbraughts to drive any monsters toward the other fighters. He could smell the fear rolling off Maheli, at seventeen, this was her first real battle with the monsters. A moment later he sensed Zehala’s alpha magic reach out to soothe the youngsters and the horses.

  Behind him, Zehala, Naila, and the other three women had dismounted. Their helbraughts glowed from the fire magic fed into them. Histrun glanced down at the ground and growled. Their method worked best in the wet swamp-lands where the fire-rings wouldn’t cause a wildfire.

  *Ware,* he said in mind-speech, *the ground is dry.*

  “I noticed.” Zehala nodded, then looked at Naila and the other Reds. “We do this carefully. Keep the fire controlled and we’ll be fine.”

  Naila’s eyes were wide and her breath came in fast pants as she gripped her helbraught tighter. Flames licked both her and Zehala’s helbraught blades. Zehala stepped away, measuring twenty paces away from Naila. Across from her, the other two Reds, Lorstriel and Kehali, were moving into position. They tipped their helbraughts down, touching the blade’s tips to the ground, waiting for the Malvers monsters to arrive.