‘Take me to Unta,’ he gasped.
Talia was sweeping the courtyard of the litter from the spring windstorms. Little Halgin pelted back and forth across the court defeating hordes with his stick sword under the careful eyes of their nanny. Talia was worried; they were expecting a number of foals and she wondered if they had room. And the harvest from last year — not what they’d hoped for. It would be a challenge to make do. She continued sweeping for a time, considering options: selling a few of the horses perhaps, though that was something she would never have imagined less than a year ago.
There were a lot of things I wouldn’t have imagined less than a year ago.
Then the silence struck her. She looked up. Little Halgin was standing still, peering down the road where some old man was coming, limping carefully along with the help of a tall walking stick.
Inside, the twins started crying, screeching for their feed.
But she stared as well, watching. Something. There was something familiar in the shoulders, the head…
Halgin threw aside his stick to run up the road. Talia took one step to follow but stopped. Halgin was yelling something — a word she couldn’t hear for the roaring in her ears. Then the nanny was there holding her up and the twins were crying. Talia straightened, forced herself to steady her breathing. She urged the nanny inside to calm the twins.
Down the road the man had thrown aside his stick and Halgin had jumped up into his arms and he carried him now, walking more strongly. Talia almost tried to rearrange her hair but wiped instead at her face. Then he was there before her and she thought she would burst. Oh gods… my prayers. You answered my prayers!
‘Look, Mama,’ Halgin said, grinning happily.
She nodded seriously. ‘Yes, Halgin. I see.’ She cupped his face — so lined and thin! Gods, you have tormented him. His beard so much greyer! She clasped his hands in hers. ‘Rillish Jal Keth. You are home.’
‘Yes, Talia,’ he said, his voice thick with emotion. ‘I’m finally home.’