The Halyean Legacy: Scars and Gifts

By Susan Tracy

Mahri is sixteen—attentive, happy, eager to learn and to know herself. She finds joy in family, horses, cooking, and helping others.

Mahri and her family assist the refugees arriving in the Halyean Lands from Zarpahz, across the Narrow Sea, fleeing from war and famine.

Then overnight her quiet life in the small seaside village near West Harbor changes abruptly when she and her family are forced to flee from dangerous raiders adverse to the refugees. After the raiders attacked their village, Mahri and her family escape to Forest Springs Village, where Mahri discovers a powerful gift and a disturbing secret as she faces new challenges to secure her future.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: May 31, 2023
• ISBN: 9781665737647

Susan Tracy

Susan Tracy lives with her husband in southeast Iowa in an eco-village powered by windmill electricity and fresh water from the cisterns. Halyean Legacy: Scars and Gifts is her debut novel.

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The Halyean

Legacy

Book One 67486.png Scars and Gifts

Susan Tracy

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Copyright © 2023 Susan Tracy

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Archway Publishing

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.archwaypublishing.com

844-669-3957

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-6657-3763-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6657-3762-3 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-6657-3764-7 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2023901337

Archway Publishing rev. date: 05/05/2023

Contents

Dedication

Part One

Forest Springs Village

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

Part Two

THE HORSE FAIR

15

16

17

18

19

20

21

22

23

24

25

26

27

28

29

Part Three

INJIRQUA

30

31

32

33

34

35

36

37

38

39

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Dedication

For all the many authors of all the many Young Adult novels I have read. You inspired, uplifted, and gave me dreams. Now I have written a Young Adult novel. May it do as well all of yours.

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The Halyean Lands

The garden was large and gloriously designed to have all the varieties of native Halyean plants and flowers—different shapes, sizes, and colors—all living in harmony with each other. The garden represents the Halyean Legacy of the Halyean Lands where people live together harmoniously, no matter where they are from, the color of their skin, or their shape, size, or beliefs.

Part One

Forest Springs Village

1

They came in the night.

Shouts woke Mahri from sleep. She sat up instantly, her heart pounding.

Her mother, Sharla, hurried over and whispered to her urgently. "We have to go to the beach cave now. Remember what we practiced."

Horses whinnied, hooves pounded, and shouts came closer.

Mahri rubbed her eyes and remembered that her father had warned that people who were against refugees might attack their village. This was real. Suddenly, Mahri felt panic enveloping her and swallowing her up. Paralyzed with fear, she couldn’t remember what she was supposed to do next.

Hurry, Mahri! her mother whispered. Are you still asleep? She gently shook her, and helped her stand up.

With trembling hands, Mahri took the pack her mother handed her, then turned and grabbed her quilt from the sleeping mat. Stumbling in the dark, she followed her mother to the back of their small cottage. They went out the back door and closed it behind them. Her grandparents and father were already outside. In single file, they hurried from grass to trees to beach path. She looked back and saw her mother pull a pile of brush over to hide the entrance to the path. Then they reached the rough, steep steps down to the beach. Her father went down first and helped her grandparents with the last and steepest step.

Shouts came closer, and Mahri heard rough, angry words. Try to grab that boy. Let no one escape!

Her friends. She had to help them, because they had to live too.

She turned back. "Ma, my friends. We have to help them."

Mahri, they’ve gone to hide. Now we have to hide.

Gently, she turned Mahri to face forward. Her tears made it hard to see and she slipped on the rock steps, but her father caught her and set her down gently. As her mother climbed down the steps, Mahri looked up and saw red and orange flames leaping into the sky beyond the trees.

Whose house was that in flames? Mahri’s heart clenched. She turned away and stifled a sob.

Follow me, her father told them. We’ll walk into the sea and turn right. The sea will cover our tracks.

They followed him into the shallow surf of the incoming tide; cool water swirled and foamed around their legs as they hurried to the rocky point that hid the cave. At the point, the waves crashed against their legs, pushing them toward the rocks, then tried to pull them back and out to sea. They bent forward, their legs struggling with the pull of the water and the soft sand being pulled out from under their feet, and then they finally made it around the point and lumbered through the surf up to the entrance of the sea cave.

Mahri and her father came last.

He caught her when she stumbled and helped her move forward through the strong push and pull of the surf. Then they ducked and waded inside the cave entrance. The rumble of waves muffled the sounds from above. Now inside, they trudged up a short, sandy slope to a rock ledge. Her father climbed up and turned, took the packs and Mahri’s quilt, and helped each of them up onto the dry sandy ledge.

The cave was quiet and cool.

Mahri, come and sit here by me, her mother said and handed her a cloth to dry her wet legs. She sat wrapped in her quilt and tried not to cry while she dried her legs.

I never thought this would happen, but it did. I feel scared for us and our friends, said Mahri. Her mother’s arms tightened around her. Why? Mahri continued in an anguished voice.

We have always had refugees come to the Halyean lands from the Zarpahz Kingdom and other kingdoms too, said her mother. But now, with war and famine across the sea, many more from Zarpahz are coming to the West Harbor region because it is the point of land closest to them. The West Harbor people see them settling in their area, working diligently to survive and sometimes taking work from them, so they have started to oppose the refugees—they fear the different culture too.

We escaped tonight because West Harbor people are also opposed to those who support the refugees, like your grandparents and I, who have been helping them with childbirth and sickness, and your father, who helps them build homes. On trips into West Harbor, he saw that anger was growing and predicted an attack might come; he told every family in our village that he saw trouble brewing and told them to have a safe place to hide. I hope they took his advice.

Mahri asked, Is it like this everywhere in our country?

No, said her mother, shaking her head. In the north, it’s peaceful.

Her grandmother came over and sat. Mahri, you’re a brave girl. I never had anything like this happen to me when I was your age. She gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. I made these sweet cakes for you this morning. Eat some now, because sweets are good for a shock.

Mahri began to eat and felt herself relax.

We are refugees too, because our region is many days north of here, said her grandfather softly. It’s peaceful there because the tradition is to be welcoming and kind; they have peaceful ways to resolve conflicts.

I want one of those sweet cakes too, said her father. Then let’s sleep. I’ll lie nearest the edge and keep an ear open in case anyone comes. I doubt they will because it is almost high tide and too dangerous to come round the point.

Mahri lay between her mother and grandmother. She felt exhausted, worried, and sad as she listened to the sounds of the surf pushing into the cave opening and flowing back out. Their soothing sounds were settling, and she finally fell asleep.

The next morning, the sounds of quiet talking woke her. She remembered the night before and, feeling alarmed, sat up quickly. She noticed her father was not there and asked anxiously, Where’s Pa?

Her mother came over with an apple and some water. He’s gone to see if it’s safe to return home.

After breakfast, they repacked the food, their packs, and waited.

Suddenly, they heard someone moving fast into the cave.

It was her father.

He climbed onto the ledge, gasping from exertion, soot on his clothes and face. He tried to catch his breath as he said, The whole village was burned to the ground; I could not find anyone. I hope that means they all hid or escaped. The tools and supplies I hid in the trees are still there, though.

He paused and took a deep breath. The tide is lower now so attackers could return soon and decide to search the beach coves. We need to pack up and move now.

2

TWO YEARS LATER

I see the creek ahead! Mahri called out.

And I see the Narrow Sea through the trees! added her friend Meliq, coming up behind her.

Their families had sent them off for the day because they had to assist with a complicated childbirth. They gave Mahri and Meliq the task of collecting herbs and willow bark near a large spring in the forest to the east. It was a warm and sunny late spring day; the forest was lively with birdsong, and a sea breeze rustled the new leaves. The trees were thinly spaced except for the bamboo trees, which grew in small groves. Wildflowers bloomed in the grassy clearings.

As they walked, Meliq pointed out different varieties of trees and plants. This was her area of interest. They discussed their tasks of collecting willow bark by the spring and finding balm mint and other wild herbs.

They also had a secret plan to spend time on the beach, and because it was an easy forest to walk through, they decided not to follow the usual trail to the spring and creek, but rather to angle their route and walk southeast so they would come near the creek’s exit onto the beach. This would save steps and give them more time.

Now they had arrived at the creek, and the sea was up ahead.

Mahri sat on the grassy bank of the creek and took off her sandals. Smiling with relief, she dangled her tired feet in the flowing creek.

This feels so good on my tired feet. We walked far this morning, and I’m hungry. It’s a little early, but shall we eat now?

It’s your birthday today, so you decide! said Meliq as she sat down beside Mahri and dipped a foot in to test the water.

I decide yes. Let’s eat! Aunt Velli made my favorite packed meal for us.

She pulled out cups and a cloth filled with rolled-up flatbreads. These are filled with Aunt Velli’s fresh cheese, herbs, greens, and chives she picked this morning. My grandmother added some salty nuts and sweet cakes for us too. Take as much as you like!

Meliq tied back her long, black hair, then chose one of the rolled-up flatbreads and took a bite.

These are good! she exclaimed.

I think this is more fun than being at home. said Mahri. I’m glad Selva’s baby decided to come today so our families are busy. It’s a breech birth, and they are experts with those.

Mahri savored her next mouthful of the fresh and tasty flavors. Her mind wandered. She was sixteen today, and it was almost two years since they had escaped to safety from their refugee village south of West Harbor. Unbidden, the disturbing memories flashed through her mind. Her father had warned everyone of an attack but had not expected it to be so violent and destructive.

Meliq brought her back to the present. You look so serious. What are you thinking about?

Oh ... I was remembering when we left West Harbor. I felt so frightened. The morning after they burned our village to the ground, we had to escape from our hiding place in the sea caves and get to Pa’s wagon. It was just after sunrise, and no one saw us. Grandma, Ma, and I stayed hidden in the back of the wagon under the canvas cover so we wouldn’t look like an escaping family. Pa made it comfortable for us with the blankets and quilts he had stored there, but it was cramped, and it got hot as the day wore on. They decided that the safest place to come was here, to Aunt Velli’s.

She paused and sighed. The whole trip, I felt sad and worried because I didn’t know what happened to my friends and their families. I kept falling asleep in the heat. Ugh. She groaned. Finally, after two and a half days, we arrived and completely surprised Aunt Velli. We stayed in her cottage until Pa built one for us.

A fly lit on her nose, and she brushed it away. I still don’t know what happened to my friends; I just hope they escaped. It’s been peaceful and sweet here at Forest Springs Village, especially because you’re here!

I know how you felt, because we had to leave Mandari in a hurry a few years ago, and I felt devastated said Meliq. My father had been teaching mathematics and health care at a school there. They gave us a nice cottage to live in, shaded by the most beautiful trees and surrounded by a garden of fragrant roses, giant hibiscus plants with blossoms in pink and yellow, and many more flowers. There were flowering vines everywhere—it was just so beautiful there, she said wistfully. My school had excellent teachers in every subject, and I miss that. My father teaches me now, so I’m still learning, but there is so much more I want to learn, especially about trees and plants.

She turned to look at Mahri. I’m unsure why we left, but my parents heard about Forest Springs Village and decided we’d come here for a few years and then plan what to do next.

Mahri said between bites, Pa gives me my lessons too, but those have stopped now till it gets colder again.

Looking serious and thoughtful, Meliq said, After hearing your memory, I think the reason we left might have had something to do with my father. He was originally from the Zarpahz Kingdom. That could have been the reason, or one of the reasons why we left.

They each took another flatbread roll and ate quietly. They dipped their cups in the clear creek water, drank, then ate the sugared nuts and sweet cakes.

Mahri took a small bite of her sweet cake and pondered a sudden feeling of hesitation about going to the beach. She’d loved the idea of going, but now that they were so close, she wasn’t so sure. Her father had taken her for two summers and they had gone in the water, but he had been at her side the whole time. She’d loved it there and longed to return. The reason for her hesitation suddenly became clear: if she’d asked him about going to the beach, he’d probably have said no, it was too dangerous and no one would be there to save her if she got pulled out to sea. But she was older now, bigger, and stronger; Meliq, tall and strong herself, was with her too, so it should be fine. Shouldn’t it?

I think we should go to the beach first and collect herbs and bark on our way home, Meliq suggested.

Mahri took that as a positive sign and replied, Yes, beach first, and let’s save the last two flatbreads for our trip back.

They packed up and walked along the creek bank until they reached its outlet onto the beach. There was a pale-blue sky above, and just ahead, the bright blue waters of the Narrow Sea stretched south to the shores of the Zarpahz Kingdom, out of sight to their eyes. The fresh breeze made the water choppy with small caps of foam. The cries of sea birds turning and swooping filled the air.

They put their packs and sandals down in the shade near the outlet of the creek and ran laughing across the sand to the sea. The tide was coming in.

The surf spilled up the sand as they stepped in. Let’s go in farther! Meliq cried out. The water feels just perfect!

They submerged into the surf, waves breaking in front of them, then pushing them back toward the beach.

This feels so wonderful, but I feel nervous to go out any farther, called Mahri. I don’t want to be pulled out to sea and then washed up on the rocks of Narrows Point!

They swam in the foaming surf where it broke and laughed with joy. Then, feeling tired, tunics and trousers clinging to them, they struggled out and lay on the beach to dry off. Stretched out on the warm sand, Mahri felt relieved because it had been all right to go in the sea and they’d managed just fine in the surf.

She turned to Meliq. I haven’t told you this yet, but this morning, Pa told me that he has a grand birthday gift for me. He’s going to take me with him to the horse fair this summer and buy me my own horse! I was so surprised. He has been giving me more riding lessons since we moved here and started his horse-training business. In West Harbor, I learned to ride on Jos, who pulls the wagon, and here I still ride Jos, but also Dally, the dun horse he bought at the horse fair. You’ve seen me riding her around the village. She’s slow and heavy but so gentle and easygoing.

"We’ll go in Pa’s wagon, which he designed to be long enough for him to