First, a stop at the mill to see Da, then onto the house. I hope Ma has something fixed for supper. He followed the road, and when he finally spotted the mill’s sails turning in the breeze, he raced up the hill. Pushing the door open, he peered inside. “Da? I’m home. Da?” He entered, took a long look around, and decided that Bordric must not have been there because it was quiet and dark. Maybe he’s at the house. Yes, he must be; it’s too late for him to be still up here tending things.
After securing the door, he jogged toward the house a hundred yards away. Inside, he saw his little brother, Naettan, sitting on a sofa. “Nate!” He rushed over and hugged Naettan.
The boy sat in silence, barely looking up at Marac.
“Nate?” He crouched next to his brother. “Where is Da? Have you seen Ma?”
Receiving no answer, he walked down the hallway. “Da! Ma!”
“Marac?” His mother opened the door of her bedroom. “Is that you?”
“Ma, yes. Finally, someone answers me.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “What wrong with Nate? Where’s Da?”
“Come with me, Marac.” She took his hand, trying to lead him into the room with her.
“Where’s Da? Ma, is everything all right?” He hadn’t noticed before, but he saw tears running down her cheek. “What’s happened?”
She closed the door after pulling him into the room. “Have a seat, Marac.”
“Where’s Da?” he asked again, having a seat on the edge of the bed. Why won’t anyone tell me anything? Where in the hells… Nate’s silent. Ma’s crying. “Ma, where is he?”
“Your father has passed, Marac, while you were away.”
Passed. Passed? Passed… He tried to force a breath, his face and neck growing hot, his muscles tense, and his hands trembling. Dead? No, I won’t believe that. “He was fine before I left. He can’t be. Not Da, not now. Impossible.”
“We buried him last week, Marac.” She sobbed and sat next to him. “It was an accident.”
“How?” He shook his head and shot up from the bed. “He was strong as an ox. Two of them.”
She followed him into the hall, then to the living room. “An inquest was held by the magistrate, and he determined that Bordric passed from a fall. He’d complained to me about the sails getting stuck, and he went up there to fix-”
“Dead?”
She sighed, bowed her head, and pointed toward the kitchen window. Marac walked over and peered out. He noticed a new stone at the top of the next hill in the family cemetery, a stone that hadn’t been there when he left. Then, he turned to look at the dining table, the evening meal prepared and the places set, but where his father usually sat, he didn’t see dishes or a napkin. He’s gone? Da’s gone…
Like an arrow, the pain shot through his heart, and he fell to his knees, gasping for air. Why him? Creator, why has this come to pass?If I had stayed, this wouldn’t have happened. I would have helped him with that damned mill. His vision cloudy from tears, his throat sore, and his body shaking, he couldn’t do anything. We should’ve come home when we were done with Gustav. Why did we have to stay gone so long? A week might have made a difference. We’ve saved so many, but I couldn’t save my own father! He was paralyzed, powerless to do anything but cry. Emotions overtaking him, he fell to his side and rolled into a ball. All the opportunities you had to claim me, and you take him? Creator, why are you punishing me? Why did you take him instead of me?
He lay there for some time, and the sun hung low on the horizon by the time he stopped crying. Ma came over-apparently waiting until he’d calmed down-and touched him on the shoulder, but he reeled away.
“Your brother and I are still living, Marac. We need your love, too.”
He rose to his knees, then to his feet, and stared at her. “It’s my fault. I should’ve stayed.”
“No, Marac, no.” She pulled him to her shoulder. “Have you forgotten? He sent you to the knights to save you. You would’ve been conscripted if he hadn’t. There was nothing you could do.”
Marac took a deep breath. “I need some time to think. I’ve got to go… somewhere.” His mother nodded, and he walked out the front door, bound for the village. Calvert’s should still be open.
He paused when his feet hit the bottom step and imagined the night ahead. I’ll be drunk and out of control, washing away my worries a pint at a time. No. He turned around and stared at the door of his house. The drink didn’t stop Andolis or Gustav, and it didn’t help anything else. I’m strong enough without it.
He climbed the stairs and opened the door. His mother and brother looked up from the sofa. Marac sat next to them and took his brother’s hand. “I’m back, Nate. Come, hug your brother.”
Naettan smiled and held Marac tight. “I prayed all the time that you would come home. Every day.”
“You decided not to go?” Ma asked.
“My place is with you, not at a side-street counter. I don’t want Da to be disappointed in me.”
“I don’t think you could disappoint him, Marac. Even when you were drunk and jailed in Westmarch, your father blamed everyone but you. ‘It had to be the guards picking on him for being a country boy,’ he said, or ‘They must be lying. My son wouldn’t do those things.’”
Marac shook his head. “Today, that tradition ends. I have only myself to blame for the things I’ve done.”
She smiled, then looked away.
“What’s wrong, Ma?”
“Oh, I’ve been trying to decide what to do. We still have some money from the last shipment to Westmarch, but it won’t last. I don’t see you running the mill on your own, and Naettan’s too young to help.”
Naettan waved his hands. “I’m not too young, Ma. I can do it.”
“No, Nate. I can’t work in the place where Da…” Marac closed his eyes. “Too many memories. We’ll sell it.”
She looked surprised. “Sell it? But this land’s been in our family for centuries. We can’t sell it.”
“Things change, Ma. If my adventures have taught me anything, that lesson was painfully learned.”
“It’s not even worth what we’ve put into it, though. If we sell the land, we won’t have enough-”
“Money is no longer a concern, Ma.”
“Not a concern? Of course it is.”
He reached into his bag and produced a hunk of platinum.
“Silver? That’ll help, but I still don’t think-”
“Not silver.”
“No?” She leaned forward and squinted. “What is it?”
“Pure platinum.”
Her eyes widened. “Where’d you get that? Are you in trouble?”
“No, nothing like that,” Marac said, shaking his head. “I have more than enough. More than we’ll ever need.”
“This is all happening so fast. Let me think about it, would you?”
Marac nodded. “We’ll talk about it later, then. Whenever you’re ready.”
She stood, walked into the kitchen, and pulled a pot from the stove. “I didn’t make much, but we’ll spread it around.”
“We’ll make do.” Marac joined her in front of the stove and put his arm around her. “Revens get by however we can. Always have, always will.”
24
Laedron and Valyrie started down the road, then walked the perimeter of the village. Little more than a few steps lay between me and my family, he thought, seeing the old oak by which he’d spent so much of his childhood. He stopped, smiled at Valyrie, and ran over to the tree.