24

It was the day Ætharr had been waiting for- and dreading- for a long time.

His three sons had completed their transition from boyhood, to the start of manhood in Calador. This was the method designed by Ealdors past to develop the fearsome strength, endurance, and discipline of an ideal army. The Calador fyrd depended on it.

Ætharr stood now outside his hall in Æthelly. His wife Rosheen stood next to him, along with a number of other attendants and members of his council. His beloved cousin Ædall was there, awaiting the return of his own son; Jinn was present, his appearance a bit negative due to his reclusive nature and dark look about him; Ptolemy was there, and Judos was there too. Judos was there not only out of respect for the Ealdor, but because he was a guardian of the children. Sworn to protect them and watch over them. Ætharr's fourth child, his daughter Nuala, was standing by with her mother.

Ætharr had spent the time of peace as Rosheen had advised. He had gotten to know his daughter for the first time since her birth. He realized- to his shame- that he had never thought so highly of her as he had of his sons. How that had changed when he had begun to spend time with her like a father. It was a deep and profound feeling to see such a beautiful little pup and know she was yours. That she would grow into a fine young maid and make him proud. To think that he had always been so absent from home that he had almost missed that feeling of fatherhood.

Five weeks had passed by since he had made his promise to Rosheen. He had kept it, as he always kept his word. He had been there for them, occasionally assuming the duties of an Ealdor, addressing issues of agriculture and education. He had put more focus on the libraries springing up around Calador, thanks to Judos. The otter had spent more time as a professor and teacher than a theign, as the two of them joked.

Ætharr had kept his word to Rosheen. He had given Calador peace. And it had prospered. The Loptrio lands, taken now after the former Loptrio tribe had been dispersed into a diaspora, had filled with colonists from Calador, and the population was increasing tenfold because of the new prosperity. In a few seasons time, the Calador tribe would have the largest army to march in these lands.

And while Ætharr had devoted his time to peace and prosperity, his restless mind had not strayed far from thoughts of war. Even now he looked to Vireo, hostile and isolated. He looked northwards, to Salamandastron, and southwards to the Kala tribe and maybe even Southsward. The Ealdor accepted that he could not resist thinking of such things. Such was his ambitious persona and his love for conquest.

Ætharr had become more social in those weeks. He had thrown feasts in his hall, inviting his friends and allies from other tribes. Blackaxe of the Jeri and Kazahley of the Hunan had come, as had Cocoran, brother to Rosheen and chief of the Falcarragh. Friends he had appointed as theigns had been in attendance. Ben the raccoon, hired soldier in Ætharr's army, had taken up a settlement on Judos' lands and was developing a conversational friendship with the otter theign.

The night before this day, he had had another feast, honouring the return of his sons. It was a more personal affair, and so Ætharr had invited his closest friends and allies. Ædall, Judos, Ptolemy, Horal, Gyras, Burg, Lanvor, and Craterus had been among those who honoured their Ealdor. Even Jinn had come at one point, though he did not stay long.

It was a marvellous feast, with much meat and ale present, as with any traditional Calador feast. The guests stayed long into the night, toasting the gods, their Ealdor, their ancestors, their sons, their history, anything that a drunk patriot would honour was mentioned.

Judos alone did not drink excessively. He had never been much for ale, and as he could see, neither was Ætharr. The Ealdor did not want to drink too heavily on the night before his sons' return. It was an important day that could not be ruined by the after effects of drink.

Like all sober guests, Judos was the last in attendance by the time the feast was over. The two old friends decided to finish the leftovers of the feast rather than let it go to waste.

Judos sunk his teeth into freshly cooked trout, speaking in between mouthfuls, "This is what we fought for, my friend." The otter was in an extraordinarily good mood these past weeks. The time of peace had been good to him, and seeing Calador's attention diverted from war had given him much to do. It was an altogether more pleasant side of Calador and Ætharr, so the otter reckoned.

Ætharr looked at him over a leg of grouse, "What's that you say?"

"Peace. The time of plenty."

The weasel smiled at those words, "You know, you've spent so much time teaching Calador about Redwall that you can't help but be drawn into their mind set again."

Judos laughed as he sipped at cold water, "You're mistaken, Ætharr. Redwall is wonderful as an ideal, but in reality no ideal is as it would seem."

The weasel rolled his eyes, "Say what you will, but I know what I see and hear."

Judos' face fell for a brief moment, "Speaking of that, what did Jinn have to say? I saw him talk to you briefly and then leave after a few toasts."

Ætharr shrugged, "He is discontented. Jinn has lived so long as a spy and intelligence agent that he cannot get his head around any time of peace. It frustrates him, and he has warned me that we have let our guard down too much."

"He would say that," Judos said scornfully.

"You never liked him. I can see why, but it's still a pity to hear two of my friends insult one another," Ætharr remarked.

Judos looked at the weasel, "Do you still consider him a friend?"

"Jinn is and always has been as much my friend as you or my cousin," Ætharr answered resolutely.

"He has lied to Calador. Maybe he would lie to you?" Judos ventured.

Ætharr frowned, but did not say anything at first. Likely because he was finishing a lizard steak that still sizzled from when it had been on the spit.

After he had eaten his fill, he looked Judos squarely in the eye, "Something's been bothering you."

Judos hesitated, but confessed the matter, "Viggo."

Ætharr scowled, "Why do you utter that name after so long?"

Judos looked thoughtful as he spoke, "I've been rolling it around in my head, and it doesn't make sense. Viggo's city was aflame. Invaders were killing Viggo's people. If Viggo had let them in, why were they so violent and destructive?"

Ætharr leered, "What are you suggesting? That rather than take an easy, direct route into Calador through the forest or one of the more isolated forts guarding the border, the invaders went all the way down south to attack Viggo of all people? That is a coincidence I find too hard to believe."

Judos sighed, "Maybe they were hired? The same people, perhaps, who hired those raiders to attack Æthelly?" He was referring to the attack on a feast honouring the birth of Ætharr's children. It had resulted in several dead, including Ferric, one of Ætharr's most trusted theigns.

Ætharr hadn't put any thought to that night ambush, but Judos' reminder filled him with the same dark thoughts that had plagued him back then.

Judos was persistent though, "Ætharr, those suspicious deeds tie in with what's been going on in Vireo. Ibos being all reluctant to do his parts in the alliance. Ibos betraying us, why wouldn't he have been behind those attacks?"

Ætharr thought of it, and shrugged, "Maybe. It's likely that Ibos was behind those attacks, but that is an uncertainty that we'll never know for sure now." For Ibos was dead, and Brownhide had taken over the Vireo lands, or so it was reported through Jinn.

Judos seemed mollified by Ætharr's agreement in his suspicions. He took another bite of roasted fish, "I don't know what's happening in Vireo, but whatever it is cannot be good."

Ætharr laughed, but his laugh was forced, attempting to move past the doubts and questions, and trying to enjoy this final part of the evening, "Indeed not, Judos. But Blackaxe's messenger arrived two days ago. Ervaring was preparing an invasion of Vireo, and we should hear how it's resulted by tomorrow."

Judos nodded, "The same day that your sons return."

Ætharr sighed in anticipation.

Judos paused, and spoke again, "Ætharr, I know this was a long time past, but I am sorry for what I said before you sent your sons away."

Ætharr awkwardly shrugged his shoulders, "Many things were said that day. I've moved past and forgotten them. Nothing more to be said, really."

He looked at his friend, "You know, Judos, I do remember one thing you said though. You said they would hate me for this."

Judos looked worried, eager to try and make amends by patting the weasel's paw, "You said you forgave your father for it."

"Yes, I did. But a part of me never forgot it. Never forgot how bad of a day that was for me. It was the worst day of my life. At least, before..." Even now, after all this time, Ætharr could still not truly come to grips with his father's murder.

Judos offered Ætharr more ale, "The only way we'll feel better about all this is by facing tomorrow. I don't doubt that they've also been waiting for this day, Ætharr."

Ætharr smiled wanly, "We all have, Judos. We all have."

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So it was a troubled but determined Ætharr who stood by his family, waiting for his sons to come in from their experience in the wild.

It was essential that they not only complete the tests thrown at them, but that they were prepared to continue on that path, to be taught by their father and the other nobility to become what was expected of them.

Rosheen squeezed Ætharr's paw in a sign of her own anticipation in seeing her sons again. Ætharr felt suddenly very sad and guilty about separating his sons from their loving mother. What pain had Rosheen gone through that she'd kept to herself? He had not seen any signs of such resentment as of late, but the last weeks had been good to them both.

Suddenly, a horn was blown in the distance, signalling someone's arrival.

The Ealdor felt a shudder go down his spine as he waited for the wall guards to identify who it was that was approaching.

The wait seemed to last hours. Days. Had a horn been blown to signal something else? Maybe a hunting party back from a successful hunt? Maybe a theign coming in to bring their issues to the Ealdor's attention. Maybe...

"His Lordship's sons are in sight!" came the call.

Ætharr felt something in him freeze in shock and anticipation, and a wild instinct in him wanted to rush out and see his sons again. He restrained himself. Not yet, he thought forcibly, struggling to maintain that paternal instinct in his mind. To distract himself, he picked up little Nuala even as she squealed with delight as she heard her brothers' names called out.

Rosheen stepped forward. The first step was so hesitant, slow, and uncontrolled that it seemed to Ætharr she was possessed by a spirit. Then her next steps were more certain, and then she went forward to see them.

Before she'd gotten far, a group of weasels came into Æthelly's enclosure. Under the stone wall, through the main gateway, came the newcomers. Up in front were three young weasels that could not be mistaken for anyone else.

The Ealdor's sons had returned home.

All of them had grown. They were taller, leaner, and looked more physically imposing. They walked in purposeful strides, and Ætharr could see their muscles were more toned beneath their fur. They looked weathered, older than their age, like young trees after a particularly hard winter.

Ætharr drank in the sight of them. His boys. His sons. Back from what the young Ætharr himself had come back from. How had he felt? He tried to remember what he was feeling at the time. Seeing his father again.

He had felt relieved.

Relieved that he had made it. That he was allowed back to see his father. His mother had been dead by that point, but Ællear had not given his son proper time to adjust. He had to learn what it was like, and so Ætharr had been sent into the wild to learn skills of survival and gain physical and mental strength.

When he had seen his father again, he was happy, but not in a relaxed manner. He remembered feeling agitated, wondering if he'd suddenly be taken away again. Wanting to show that he would learn what he had to to please his father and prove he was worthy of being his son. He had felt a deep drive to match up to his father out of fear of rejection.

Ællear was a hard weasel, but that day he had smiled down with real happiness at the sight of his son. He had allowed Ætharr to hug him in a family embrace. He had spoken words that Ætharr now realized had been dripping with nobility and a fatherly tone that he hadn't often heard before that. Indeed, after that time, Ætharr had come to hear it more often from his father. Especially after he had proven himself to be worthy of being the heir. That fatherly manner, so precious to him, had been a reward for being a good son.

Time seemed to have slowed down, or maybe the thoughts were racing so fast through Ætharr's mind.

As the thoughts raced on, they suddenly halted abruptly as Ætharr's focus returned to his sons.

Rosheen had run forward and had embraced them all. Ædron, the eldest, who had screamed for her as they took him away, received her with an affection that seemed very awkward for him to display. It was certainly awkward to Ætharr, who could hardly remember his own mother anymore.

Lorcan was more comfortable with showing his happiness. The giant of his brothers, much like his uncles Ædall and Cocoran, Lorcan was nearly his mother's height. Ætharr did not doubt that he could probably pick Rosheen up and carry her up the stairs to the hall if he was asked.

It was Ætharr's third son that was the most fascinating.

Ædelmær too had grown. He was now as tall as Ædron, though not as heavy. Where Ædron had a husky look to him, and where Lorcan was built like a muscular giant, Ædelmær was lean. He was no longer the frail, undersized child he had been in his youth; his muscles had grown and had been toned beneath his fur. He looked agile and fit, and his father could see a calculating shine in his eyes. This was truly a son of his. They all were.

Ætharr stepped forward, his eyes never leaving his children. All four of them looked to him (for Nuala had run down to embrace her brothers as Ætharr had watched). What were they thinking, Ætharr wondered to himself. Did they show any sign of hostility. Nuala certainly didn't; Ætharr could tell. She merely looked curious as to what her father would say.

Lorcan, so much like his uncle, had his emotions clearly written on his face. Ætharr could see the affections of a son to a father in his look. But also a nervousness, which reminded Ætharr of his own experiences.

Ædelmær, upon seeing his mother, gave her an embrace and answered her question as to how he was feeling. As Ætharr approached, Ædelmær stepped forward, unlike his siblings. He walked to his father, rather than waiting for him to come.

"Hello father," Ædelmær spoke, not waiting for his father's greetings. Though there was no smile on his face, he was neither aggressive nor emotional. There was a bold cheerfulness to it. As it Ædelmær sought to defy his father by being optimistic and positive.

Ætharr was taken by surprise, but he didn't show it. He nodded solemnly, but almost failed to restrain a bemused grin from crossing his face, "I'm glad to see you and your brothers again."

Ædelmær's head slowly twitched to the side for a moment, "Are you?"

There were sudden intakes of breath from Rosheen, Judos, and many others present. The question was piercing in the innocent, uncertain manner in which it was said. Ætharr was surprised by how much that question hit home. Experiencing life as a father with Nuala for the past weeks had strengthened that part of his mind, that fatherly bond with his children. It had hurt to see them taken away, but it had hurt even more as he worried about what they'd be like when they came back. Now it seemed his fears were confirmed at that insulting question.

Ætharr felt the emotion rise to his face as he tried and failed to keep his voice neutral, "I have always thought of you three, and I have missed your absence as an Ealdor without heirs,' here his voice caught in his throat for a moment, but he continued, 'and as a father without his sons."

He looked at them all- Ædelmær, Ædron, Lorcan- and suddenly understood why his own father had been emotional

The Ealdor spoke again, "Seeing you here is what I have been longing to see since you were taken away to learn what it is to be a Calador weasel. And I am so proud to see you back here, successful in your training and looking like the men you are destined to become."

There was a silence. Judos, hearing the emotions in his old friend's voice, wondered what would happen now. Rosheen, her arms around Nuala and Ædron, was moved by the emotions Ætharr was displaying. Here in front of all in attendance.

Ædelmær suddenly smiled. Not a cold smile of contempt, as his father had shamefully expected to himself, nor was it an amused smile mocking the emotions of his father, but a smile of relief.

Yes, Judos thought, relief. The otter could see it in Ædelmær's face. The young weasel wanted to know that his father was proud of him, he wanted to know that his father loved them and did not send them away to punish them. Ædelmær slowly stepped forward and embraced his father, much to everyone's surprise and relief.

Ætharr's other sons came forward to embrace their father as well. Lorcan, less emotional than his brother, gave his father a submissive nod of his head before hugging his father, as if he was not addressing his father, but as a servant addresses his master. It troubled Ætharr for a brief moment, but it was drowned in his relief to hold his second son again. Lorcan would be a mighty warrior and a faithful friend to his allies, but based on what Ætharr had seen of him, and what Judos had spoken of in regard to the boy's education, Lorcan would not make a good Ealdor, nor did he even seek such a title.

Judos had begun walking forward to greet the three returned sons. He was their guardian, appointed by their parents to protect them. Knowing him as their teacher and initial instructor, Lorcan and Ædelmær were happy to see him.

Ædron's face was more reserved as he came forward. Ætharr couldn't tell what his eldest son was thinking. He was intensely interested in finding out, for this was the Heir to Calador's Ealdorship. In Ædron there lay future of Calador. Would he be good enough to hold that future?

His eldest son nodded his head in acknowledgement of his father's presence, and remarked, "It is good to see you again, father." before embracing him as Ædelmær and Lorcan had.

Judos heard the greetings, and since the younger sons had turned to greet their mother, the otter looked to where Ædron stood with his father. Ædron, in embracing his father, had to turn his head. In this case, he had turned his head to the right, where Judos could see his face. He was not looking at the otter, but as Judos watched the scene, he noticed something in the young weasel's face.

It had been missing in the others. It smoldered behind the weasel's eyes. Bitterness. Resent. Judos knew that look well, and realized that not all had gone well out of this.

The otter shuddered as he suddenly thought of the consequences this would bring to Calador.