River Flowing: Tales of Haroon, #4

By Alice Sabo

When the god of healing gave River the Gift, she didn't realize that the direction of her life would be at his whim for all the rest of her days.

 

Living and learning in the temple of Bhanur was all that River had known for most of her young life. She dreamed of becoming a Hand, healing everyone who came to the temple, but soon discovered it wasn't going to be that simple. A great upheaval scattered Hands and pupils all over the face of Haroon. River had to contend with lethal accidents, powerful mages and truculent tutors in her journey to understanding the hidden dangers in the magic. When a major catastrophe tests them brutally, she struggles to stay within her own limits as crowds of victims descend upon the temple. Her Gift can heal those who need it, but her own life lies in the hands of the god.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alice Sabo
• Release date: Nov 28, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201795764

Alice Sabo

Alice Sabo is the author of over 25 novels in 7 series. Her character-driven stories range across multiple genres including science fiction, post-apocalyptic, high fantasy, mystery and contemporary fantasy. Whether seeking lost cultures in an unforgiving galaxy or fighting the Darkness on the streets of the city, her books have strong world building, multi-layered characters and a satisfying culmination.

Book preview

Chapter One

The day that young River had healed her brother’s scraped knee, her mother had burst into hysterics and had run off to a cousin’s. Her father had walked away and was gone for a whole day. River hadn’t understood what she’d done to upset the family, but when the people all dressed in blue came to take her away, she was sure she’d done something terribly wrong. 

It hadn’t been punishment, but she’d been too young to fully understand the repercussions of her Gift. It had hurt to be ripped out of her family, her clan, and given away to strangers on that distant day. She touched the tattoo on her cheek. The story of her clan life ended there with Bhanur’s symbol added like a period to a sentence.

River? her mentor pulled her out of her sad musings. 

Sorry, Hand Wind, she apologized, pulling her thoughts back to the present. That was an old wound that refused to heal. She should know better than to poke at such a sore spot.

What has scattered your wits today, child? he snapped at her.

Just because he was old enough to be her grandfather didn’t give him the right to call her child. It grated every time he called her that because his demeaning words dripped with denigration. Like a choice few of the old Hands, he thought that pupils were there to be belittled and scolded. She hated them for that.

She was a senior apprentice now and old enough to marry. Her gift was stronger than his by a large margin, and she felt she deserved some respect for that. All her years in the temple had taught her that old didn’t necessarily mean wise. Her current mentor was a prime example.

He was a constant irritation in his old, plodding ways. Each lesson must crawl through painstaking stages that might be fine for younger pupils but bored River to tears. She was a quick study and a hard worker, but no one seemed to recognize that in her. They made her repeat her work over and over until she was ready to scream. She was more than ready to work on patients, but no one would let her.

And now Wind had caught her at a vulnerable moment. She wasn’t about to admit to a sudden bout of homesickness.  Her nineteenth birthday was only days off, and she knew she’d be alone for it. That was a private ache. One she’d never share and certainly not with her doddering mentor. I was trying to remember the uses for Longleaf.

That is not something we need for today’s lesson, he scolded. His hand automatically reached for a cup that wasn’t in its usual place. Where is my tea?

She took the cue. He’d left the cup on the worktable when he’d told her, for the fifth time, about the properties of Red Grass. Allow me to freshen your brew, Hand Wind. She grabbed the empty cup before he could answer and scooted out the door. Once around the corner, she slowed her steps. Out of sight and out of mind for old Wind, but she went down to the kitchen anyway. The bustle and aromas were welcoming. She’d fill up his cup and return to another mind-dulling lecture about something she’d learned three years ago.

She’d loved most of her teachers up until this year. Wind was too old. He taught old theory and old practices that she knew had changed. It was frustrating, but she never contradicted him and knew better than to complain. Old Wind was best friends with the head of the temple, and any complaints would fall on a deaf ear. River wasn’t the only one stuck in a rut with their mentor, but they all knew that there was no immediate solution.

She hesitated in front of the tea cabinet. Should she brew his usual mix for sore bones or the one for sharpening memory? She was sorely tempted to try the memory mix, but wondered if he’d recognize it and be insulted. She could always say that she’d muddled it up. That was one small advantage of his low opinion of her because he’d never believed she was smart enough to outwit him.

The kitchen was busy behind her preparing for the evening meal. The cook yelled out orders and the helpers scuttled about obeying them. Sometimes she wished her life was that simple. Follow a recipe, chop up roots, knead out dough, nothing there would affect a patient’s life...or death. She had no doubts about her calling. Bhanur’s Gift was strong in her, but every year she learned about more ways to fail, and it scared her. She just didn’t know if she was good enough to live up to his expectations. And Old Wind’s opinion did matter sometimes.

She was about to pick a tea when she heard a novice calling out names in the main hall. That drew River’s attention away from her worries. Sometimes it meant there were letters or packages. Other times it meant there was an emergency somewhere, and Hands were being chosen to travel to the incident. A welcome distraction, she went to the door of the kitchen listening to the names. A few from her year, a few above her, and then she heard her name.

River Flowing, Wind in the Barley...

And her blasted mentor. What could that mean? She came through to the hall to find stacks of papers on the dining tables and people milling through the room.

River Flowing, one of the administrative Hands held out a packet. You’ll be going to the temple at Long Mound.

She took the packet and was jostled out of the way by another apprentice collecting a packet. A friend that she’d know for all the years she’d been at the temple was weeping in the corner of the room.

River went over to her. Green? What’s wrong?

They’re sending me to Moorlund, she sputtered. Then she saw what River was holding. Oh, what about you? If you came with me, that might not be too bad.

River tore open her packet. There was a map and a assignment for a horse, gear and a food allotment. I’m being sent to... her eyes scanned down the page. Long Mound. The administrator’s words had not sunk in. She was leaving the temple of Summer Gathering, the place she’d been since she’d been taken from her family. It didn’t seem real. 

Green moaned, grabbing River in a tight hug. I’ll never see you again.

It’s not that bad, River countered. We aren’t being sentenced to death. Although thinking about the winters at Long Mound in the shadow of the Skytop Mountains sounded pretty dire.

Why now? Green demanded. Her tears had switched to anger. I haven’t finished anything. It’s the middle of our apprenticeship. Why are we being sent away?

River looked over at the tables where the packets were being handed out to apprentices, novices, candidates and hands alike. There was an awfully big pile of them. They’re closing this temple, she whispered.

Why would they do that? Green asked. She twisted in her seat to look around the room.

I don’t know, but even old Wind is getting sent out.

That doesn’t make sense.

River looked down at her papers. I’m supposed to leave tomorrow.

Green burst into tears again. That’s what mine say, too. How can I possible get everything ready?

River wasn’t worried about that. She could pack and be on her way in a few hours. She wasn’t the type to collect trinkets and souvenirs. She had her clothes, a lucky rock from her youngest brother, an eagle feather from her oldest brother and an embroidered sash from her favorite sister. All of that could easily fit in a pack.

She gave Green a hug and took her leave. Thankfully, this would cancel her useless lesson with Wind. As she climbed the stairs up to her room, she passed stunned conversations and more tears among the students. A few of the instructors were mobbed with questions. River walked around the clusters of arguments and pleading. No one seemed to have answers. Everyone was upset. The few cool heads she saw were in their rooms packing.

Her roommate was out, so she shut the door and reread her instructions. There wasn’t much there. She’d been reassigned to another temple and was to leave immediately. It wasn’t unusual to be sent to another temple for additional learning, but it was odd to have the entire temple reassigned. A tingle of excitement rose up from under her shock. This meant a new mentor in a new place with new opportunities. With a rising heart, she grabbed her pack and began collecting her belongings.

Chapter Two

Knowing it would be chaos in the stable yard, River began her day before sunrise. The kitchen was bustling as usual. They were stacking travel sacks on the dining hall table. One of the cooks came out with more in a basket. She handed one to River. Best of luck, lass.

Do you think they’re closing the temple? River asked in a low voice.

Ah no, it’s nothing like that. The cook shook her head. They do this every ten years or so. Switch it up. Send people off to the four corners of the world.

River was stunned. Why?

To shake ‘em out of their ruts is what I think. The cook went over to table to unload her tray.

For a moment, River was too surprised to react. But then she thought about Wind, and how cozy he was with the Heart. How all the old Hands sat together complaining of their pupils, and it made sense that something major needed to happen to let some sunshine into this closed room of stuffy disdain.

A clatter of footsteps heralded a mob of novices being shepherded into the dining hall by their tutors. If she didn’t hurry, she’d lose the advantage of rising early. She went out to the stable yard where the anticipated disaster was playing out just as she had imagined. Older tutors were arguing with the stablemaster about their mounts. River knew that was a very bad idea. She’d learned early in life never to argue with the people who could make your life miserable.

One of the senior grooms beckoned her over. Show me your papers. He grunted over the list, then led her to the far corner. You get him.

River sized up the animal. He was a gray dapple with a dark mane and tail. Not too old, not too young, she decided he was fit for the journey. He already had a saddle which wasn’t in the best of shape but would work for the time being. What’s his name?

The groom had already turned to deal with another apprentice but gave her an approving look. River Gravel.

River patted the horse’s shoulder. We can’t both be called River, she said. I hope you’ll be okay with just Gravel. The name suited him. All the dots and splotches of dark gray that marked him did look like stones in a brook. He shook out his mane as she swung up into the saddle. 

She guided him through the growing, raucous crowd and out into a quiet lane. The sun had come over the edge of the world, and she greeted it with joy. It wasn’t often that she got to be outside on a fine day. And since coming to the temple in her early teens, she’d only traveled on a few rare breaks. The work for Bhanur’s Hands never ended, and they were expected to study year-round. Gravel snorted as if equally glad to be out in the sunshine.

You can have a run as soon as we get out of town, she promised.

Summer Gathering wasn’t actually a town, more of a loose collection of summer homes and market stalls. Plainsmen were nomadic, but they were also deeply traditional in the placement of their seasonal camps. Most clans spent time here in the warmer seasons. The great stone Temple of Bhanur was one of the only permanent buildings there. The changing aspect of the town was the best part for River. She couldn’t imagine staying in a place that was always the same.

Once they reached the outskirts, she gave Gravel his head and let him run. It seemed like he needed it as much as she did. Feeling the wind on her face was soothing. The movement and fresh air released something in her Plainsman’s soul that had been cramped. When he slowed, she slid off to walk beside him. Somehow it felt easier to breathe out here. The grassland spread out before her with barely a smudge of darkness in the distance to mark the Skytop Mountains. It would take her days to get to the temple at Long Mound, and she’d make every one of them count.

Her parents had taught her everything she needed to know to live easily under the sky. She looked forward to being out on the land for awhile. Learning to be a Hand of Bhanur was more restrictive than she had imagined. She liked the lessons and helping people to heal, but it was the long days inside four walls that chafed.

She stopped just after midday when she crossed a stream to rest Gravel.  There was a shrine to the Great Mother at the ford where she said a prayer of thanks for a beautiful day, a strong mount and good water. It was a natural stopping place, so there was a fire ring and a few benches. She stretched muscles that were no longer used to a long day in the saddle.

Taking her bearings, she figured that she was making good time. Traveling alone was often swifter than when a whole clan moved. The thought brought up childhood memories again of siblings and cousins chasing each other and riding around the edges of the herd during the seasonal migration. She took another deep breath, glad to be under the sky for a time. 

The travel packs the temple had supplied were adequate. She was going to have to supplement it for her long journey. Sorting out the most perishable, she had a bit of lunch, then she walked for awhile with Gravel at her side. The rolling hills stretched out in every direction making her feel very small on the Great Mother’s good land.

The distant thunder of a herd running drummed through the earth. She stopped to watch the ripple of horses move over the plain. It stirred a wonder in her heart to see them. Gravel snorted.

Not your herd? she asked.

He shook out his mane and whinnied.

She wasn’t sure whose graze lands these were, but they were very well off with that many horses. Her clan had never been quite that rich. And they were all probably on their way to the fall grounds by now. They had always started their journey by the time her birthday came around. She was heading in the