Home Shattered, page 36
Table of Contents
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Home Shattered
Copyright © 2025 PC Nottingham. All rights reserved.
Published By: The Little Horsemen an imprint of 4 Horsemen Publications, Inc.
The Little Horsemen Publications
℅ 4 Horsemen Publications, Inc.
PO Box 419
Sylva, NC 28779
4horsemenpublications.com
info@4horsemenpublications.com
Cover Illustration by Oxford
Cover Typography and Typesetting by Autumn Skye
Edited by Tabitha Saletri
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All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
All brands, quotes, and cited work respectfully belongs to the original rights holders and bear no affiliation to the authors or publisher.
Library of Congress Control Number: 2025943866
Paperback ISBN-13: 979-8-8232-0976-2
Hardcover ISBN-13: 979-8-8232-0977-9
Audiobook ISBN-13: 979-8-8232-0979-3
Ebook ISBN-13: 979-8-8232-0978-6
Dedication
This series is dedicated to all of the children caught in the crossfire of adults who can’t put aside their differences, especially to all the people whose homes have been shattered by war.
Acknowledgments
There are so many amazing people to thank for their support in bringing this series from a crazy idea into your hands: all of the wonderful people at 4HP who took a chance on me, Monique Bucheger, N.C. Scrimgeour, D. Everett Thomas, KC Woodruff, Kathrin Spinnler, Jaci Lunera, Martha Flick, Alex Bree, Elise Edmonds, Nico Vincenty, Hanna Day, Loren Huxley, Mick Vernant, Karim Ragab, N.E. White, AJ Braun, Tiffany O’Haro, and the whole Cru at the Radio Freewrite podcast (WebEater, Krispy, Murph, The Lotus, and Spud). They’re all amazing creators and worth checking out!
1
Jab
Family is more than blood and inheritance.
- Divine Poetics
Each bob of the sailing cog signaled the same thing to Jab: he’d never ventured so far from home. Yet with his twin brother Sanu beside him, he also had never been closer to home, even though their personalities were chafing again. Three months ago, their parents had died. Not even a day later, Jab believed Sanu had died and Sanu believed the same about Jab. Soldiers on opposite sides of a battle saved each brother.
Where the others on this ship may have seen blue waves, when Jab stared at the sea, he saw the flames again, ripping through the grass on the hill where he’d played. When that battle erupted outside their hometown, the brothers weren’t the only ones divided.
All the ruckus of the sailors around him loading the boats couldn’t drown out that night’s screams ringing in Jab’s head.
The knight who’d saved Sanu sailed with them today. Yet the scout who’d saved Jab, the one who’d been like a brother to him in the following weeks, perished. While Sanu’s guardian was on the losing side and Jab’s victorious, that scout died defending Jab in the Holy City. Jab was glad to be reunited with his true brother but losing his savior left him hollow.
Jab tore his eyes from the horizon’s imagined flames and sighed. He lifted his brown, bushy tail and dabbed at his eyes.
Sanu elbowed him. “I thought your time training to be a scout would’ve toughened you up. Are you thinking about a girl, or wishing you could climb a tree?”
From behind, the knight slapped his beaver tail against the wooden ship deck. “Squirrels love trees.” Sir Brouglas’s accent was thick and betrayed an unfamiliarity with their language. “That’s why he cries? Doesn’t like the ocean?”
“No,” Jab said to both. “It’s the ocean water. I can’t believe how much salt is in my fur. It’s getting in my eyes.”
Sanu arched an eyebrow and lowered his voice. “What’s wrong?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
Sanu folded his arms. “Fine. After a week at sea, I thought you’d be able to talk to me about stuff again.”
Jab had answered all of Sanu’s questions regarding his time last month with Nasalid the Liberator since they departed, but he remembered their promise to each other. He wouldn’t snap at him. “You’re right. We agreed to get along at Mom and Dad’s funeral.” Jab forced a smile. “I’m glad that I was wrong, but I guess it’s still weird knowing you’re alive.”
“Well, I do understand that,” Sanu said.
A hamster sailor behind them shouted something in Frenglese, and the beaver knight retorted while pointing at Sanu.
Forcing a chuckle, Sanu translated. “He said we could clean the deck if we have time to stand around and talk, and Sir Brouglas said I need to spar with him.”
The beaver knight chortled. “Heard that, I did!”
“Now come on.” Sanu tapped Dad’s scimitar attached to his belt. “Show me some moves the scout taught you. I want to beat Sir Brouglas.”
Seeing Sir Brouglas as anything other than a foreigner who occupied the Holy City proved difficult for Jab. Some part of him resented the beaver for what he represented, but seeing how kind he was, Jab forced himself to look past that. Without worrying about his different religion or culture, Brouglas had saved Sanu’s life, even if he hadn’t saved Jab from chores on the boat.
Watching Brouglas’s approving smile as Sanu waved his scimitar made Jab want to forget the last few months and move forward.
Someone shouted from the crow’s nest in Frenglese, making Sanu and Sir Brouglas stop. Jab tried to be more proud than jealous that his brother had picked up some of their language in his time with them.
Sanu rushed back to the deck’s edge. “He spotted land!”
Jab squinted at the faint shoreline. He couldn’t do much to forget the last few months anymore now that they’d reached their destination, the whole point of this journey.
They had a prisoner to deliver, along with news about the Holy City.
“Are you going to tell her?” Jab asked. “Should Brouglas?”
Sanu cocked a grin. “Let’s do it together. I want to see the look on that mole rat’s face when she realizes it’s time for her to pay for her crimes.”
Sir Brouglas slapped his tail against the deck, stealing their attention. “We don’t talk bad about rodents we no like. She is still powerful until King Hedgry punishes her. Join me.”
Jab nodded, wondering how the beaver could stick up for Lady Marjitay. When the Holy City fell to the Liberator last month, she’d refused to surrender at first, killing the holy man she was supposed to share power with. Some part of Jab wished she’d stand trial for her real crime of occupying the Holy City instead of only the unjust killing of one rodent. As he followed Brouglas below deck, the ship felt less steady, with the sailors bouncing around, shouting their joy at seeing home.
Not knowing Frenglese as well as Sanu made Jab feel even more alone. Disliking the foul Lady Marjitay was the only true unifier among the entire crew.
While the ship was too small for a proper prison, the captain had kept the mole rat holed up in a cabin, and a guard at the door at all times. Without her famous crossbow, Jab didn’t see how she was a threat to anyone, but he appreciated how the captain had kept his word to the Liberator.
Sir Brouglas waved to the guard and exchanged quick pleasantries.
Sanu whispered to Jab, “He’s telling him we spotted land and we’re going to tell Lady Marjitay.”
Jab had guessed that himself, but didn’t want to insult his brother. It took thinking the other was dead to get them to be nice to each other and he had already tested that today.
The guard, an old porcupine, smiled at the boys and stepped aside, opening the door for them. The supply room allowed a cone of light from a porthole, illuminating the storage barrels and the prisoner.
The mole rat inside still wore her fineries, since she’d been marched directly onto this ship without any of her belongings. The sea’s salt and stench had turned them a dull, slimy gray, which was a pleasant sight compared to her grimace.
“Brouglas,” she hissed. Jab didn’t need a translator for the name or the hate dripping between her protruding teeth.
The beaver replied, and Sanu translated. “He told her we spotted land, and she’s about to face trial for murdering a Sapling in King Hedgry’s court by tomorrow.”
“She already knows that,” Jab whispered.
“I think it’s their law or something,” Sanu replied. “Brouglas also served her, so he also has to follow a law where he tells her stuff, I think.”
Lady Marjitay snorted something and tossed her head.
“She told him she’d do it again and that he’s a disgrace,” Sanu translated.
Jab shook his head. She lived up to the nickname of the Honking Goose. The gestures she made with her paws and her tone transcended every language barrier. She was threatening the three of them. Jab’s faith taught that no rodents were truly bad, but politicians like her made him doubt.
2
Sanu
Salutations to you all. Accept the news that the Holy City has surrendered. The Goose Clan is hereby expelled, and I release Lady Marjitay to you. On my honor, unarmed Sprouter pilgrims will be welcomed into ZelZaytun. My solemn wish is to end the bloodshed over holy ground.
- Excerpt from Nasalid the Liberator’s message to the Frenglese kings.
As the shoreline solidified, Sanu could barely contain himself. After the meeting with Lady Marjitay, fresh air felt great. Sanu’s bare hindpaws slapped against the deck and he cringed, realizing he should’ve stopped to pray with his brother. He hadn’t had an opportunity to do so over the last few months, except when he finally broke the holy fast after the city surrendered. Jab had spent all that time with Sanu’s hero, Nasalid the Liberator.
This critical message was for King Hedgry, the strongest in the Frenglese islands. His might kept the kings on other islands from fighting each other, so sending Nasalid’s message of peace to him made the most sense.
But as a Grovekeeper who was passably bilingual and had an understanding of the Sprouters, Sanu was trusted with a copy of the message, Sir Brouglas with another, and one of Nasalid’s soldiers with the third. But that soldier never wanted to show Sanu any sword fighting moves, so he wasn’t as impressive. Sanu wished the scout Jab kept mentioning had survived. He would’ve shown Sanu a thing or two. All Sanu wanted to do was train with deadly weapons.
How unreasonable was that for a twelve-year old?
“Watch out,” a familiar squirrel called. It was Yagub, Sir Brouglas’s squire. He could’ve been Sanu and Jab’s older brother, for how he looked and sounded. He was from Qawar island like them, even though he belonged to the Sprouter religion like Brouglas. He’d been Sanu’s main language tutor and helped Brouglas learn some phrases of their language.
“I am watching out,” Sanu replied.
Yagub carried a wooden crate and motioned at another behind him. “How about you make yourself useful? I’d ask your brother, but he’s conveniently occupied right now.”
Jab was kneeling near the ship’s railing, saying his morning prayers.
Sanu glowered at Yagub. “He’s actually doing what he’s supposed to do.” He debated stepping on Yagub’s tail, but decided against it. Why was Yagub so testy? This should be exciting for Yagub, getting to meet Sprouter royalty.
Sanu grabbed the crate, and something rattled around inside. He hoped it was arrows or crossbow bolts. It would be good to get as many of those off Qawar as possible. As he shifted his weight to balance the heavy crate, he guessed it might also be holy objects Nasalid was returning as a sign of good faith to the Frenglese. Sanu didn’t know much about these Sprouters, even after his time with them, but he did know they liked their artwork and their sacred thingamabobs.
Sanu wondered if Jab would laugh or frown at Sanu calling them thingamabobs, but decided against trying the joke on him. Nobody seemed to be in a good mood today.
A sailor stood on the railing, ripped off his shirt, and swung it around in a circle, cheering for the approaching land.
Well, nobody close to Sanu was in a good mood.
Along the shoreline were rows of stone buildings, all bigger than the ones in his hometown of Rattin and about the same size as the ones in the Holy City. Yet these didn’t have the aura of history and holiness pulsing through them. He spotted some Gnaverwood trees in the distance, but those didn’t rise as high as the colossal one in the center of the Holy City, the central object of worship for both the Sprouters’ faith and his own, Grovekeeping.
Maybe Sanu had learned something in his time with them, though he would’ve rather learned how to shoot a crossbow and swing a scimitar.
Sir Brouglas stomped up behind Sanu, escorting Lady Marjitay with a guard. Seeing her in shackles did bring a twinge of satisfaction, but it wouldn’t bring back his parents. It wouldn’t bring back the Sapling she’d murdered. For a brief second, Sanu debated tackling her, making her fall overboard.
A few feet away, Jab rose from his prayer position, and Sanu’s cheeks flushed. Seeing his faithful brother reminded Sanu that the All-Planter probably had rules about throwing rodents over the side of ships.
Yagub and Sanu set their crates down by the loading plank and Yagub nudged Sanu. “This is the first news they’re getting that Olihort was under siege and that she was defeated. Expect people to be surprised.”
Jab materialized beside them and huffed. “Olihort?”
Sanu measured his brother’s expression. Olihort was what the Sprouters called the Holy City.
“Lots of places have two names.” Yagub inclined his head. “Force of habit. ZelZaytun.” Hearing the Grovekeeper name didn’t do much for Sanu anymore, but it did seem to lift Jab’s spirits.
As the cog ship slowed, approaching the dock, some knights carrying flags with a hawk and rake design came out. Yagub pointed at them. “Those are King Hedgry’s banners. He’s not more important than the other Kings in Freng, but he does have the strongest army and the scariest reputation.”
“I thought that was the Ridgerd guy I keep hearing about,” Sanu said.
Yagub placed his tail over Sanu’s shoulders. “Prince Ridgerd is why King Hedgry has that reputation.”
“But why are they all wearing black?” Jab asked. “Is that normal for knights in Freng?”
“Not unless there’s been a funeral,” Yagub said.
A brassy horn sounding pulled Sanu’s attention to the city streets. Some big procession was happening. Sir Brouglas came to the sailing cog’s unloading plank, Lady Marjitay in tow.
“Who died?” Brouglas and the ship’s captain glanced at each other, then the captain signaled to the welcoming group below.
“We come with news, but it seems you have some as well,” the captain shouted.
Jab tiptoed to Sanu’s side. “What’re they saying?”
The banner carrier called back up. “You’ll meet with King Ridgerd when he is ready. We have finished burying the late King Hedgry in the All-Planter’s mercy.”
Sanu nudged Jab and translated. “The king we were supposed to meet just died, so we’ve got to meet this King Ridgerd instead.”
“Ridgerd,” Jab repeated. “I’ve heard about him. Nasalid and his advisers talked about him a few times.” Jab’s tone darkened. “He’s a vicious fighter.”
Sanu wondered what it would be like for a military man to have to stop his campaigns and come home to rule instead. He couldn’t imagine someone like Sir Brouglas stepping away from the military.
As the captain, Brouglas, and Lady Marjitay departed, Sanu met his brother’s gaze. “I’m sorry I didn’t pray with you before. I hope you didn’t think it was because I didn’t care. I was afraid to pray around some of the Sprouters, and I got out of the habit. Please remind me and I promise I will.”
Surprised, Jab cocked his head.
Praying hadn’t become important to Sanu until he believed Jab had died. Being a good Grovekeeper, especially in the presence of Sprouters, had been something Sanu wanted to do to honor Jab’s memory, which felt weird now.
“I didn’t really think about it,” Jab said. “And I guess I was a little embarrassed to pray with you, because I didn’t want you to notice that I lost Mom’s prayer rock.”
