Ridge Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  PROLOGUE

  THE DAY BEGINS

  THE DAY PREPARES

  THE DAY TO DISCUSS

  THE DAY OF GOODBYE

  THE DAY OF ARRIVAL

  THE DAY OF TREACHERY

  THE DAY TURNS

  THE DAY OF THE BAKERY

  THE DAY OF SHELLOS

  THE DAY OF OTTOS

  THE DAY OF HALLOS

  THE DAY OF MANNEL

  THE DAY OF GOLLOS

  THE DAY TO MOVE

  THE DAY OF THE ALLEY

  THE DAY TO BE TRAPPED

  THE DAY OF THE KNIFE

  THE DAY OF THE TRAITOR

  THE DAY TO LEAVE

  THE DAY WITHOUT A NAME

  THE DAY OF THE ROPE

  THE DAY OF HEIGHTS

  THE DAY OF THE CAVE

  THE DAY TURNS NORTH

  THE DAY OF SOLDIERS

  THE DAY OF THE VALLEY

  THE DAY FORWARD

  THE DAY TO RECLAIM

  THE DAY OF THE COUNCIL

  THE DAY’S SECURITY LOST

  THE DAY OF HATE

  THE DAY OF PURPOSE

  THE DAY OF THE GENERALS

  THE DAY OF THE JOURNEY

  THE DAY OF BRINE

  THE DAY OF IRRITATION

  THE DAY OF THE WALL

  THE DAY TO LEARN

  THE DAY IS SET

  THE DAY OF THE CITY

  THE DAY OF LONTORT

  THE DAY OF THE SQUARE

  THE DAY OF THE GENERAL

  THE DAY OF PULANOMOS

  THE DAY OF CHANGE

  THE DAY OF THE RESTAURANT

  THE DAY OF ENTRANCE

  THE DAY OF BLESSING

  THE DAY OF THE BABY

  THE DAY OF FIRE

  THE DAY OF THE MEETING

  THE DAY ENDS

  EPILOGUE

  RIDGE

  DAY Three

  Book Three of the Ridge Series

  Shawn P. B. Robinson

  BrainSwell Publishing

  Ingersoll, Ontario

  Copyright © 2022 Shawn P. B. Robinson

  All rights reserved. The use of any part of this publication reproduced, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, or stored in a retrieval system, without the prior written consent of the publisher is an infringement of the copyright law.

  ISBN: 978-1-989296-55-4

  Artwork and Cover Design copyright © Shawn Robinson

  BrainSwell Publishing

  Ingersoll, ON

  Dedication and Thanks

  To Juanita, who keeps pushing through with all my books, reading them and somehow still enjoying them.

  To all my Beta Readers for all your hard work and encouragement. Thanks for all your advice.

  A special thanks to Nathaniel for getting excited about the Ridge Series, being such an encouragement, and letting me read your book before it came out! I’m rooting for you!

  Join Shawn P. B. Robinson’s Newsletter

  This book is a work of fiction.

  Characters and places and such are fictional. While there are some matters that are somewhat allegorical in nature, this book is fiction.

  Accept it.

  Check out these books by

  Shawn P. B. Robinson

  Adult Fiction (Fantasy)

  Ridge Series

  Ridge Day One

  Ridge Day Two

  Ridge Day Three

  Books for Younger Readers

  Annalynn the Canadian Spy Series

  Books One through Six

  Jerry the Squirrel Series

  Volumes I, II, & III

  Hat Squirrel’s Revenge

  The Arestana Quest Series

  The Key Quest

  The Defense Quest

  The Harry Quest

  Activity Books

  Jerry the Squirrel Activity Book

  Annalynn the Canadian Spy Activity Book

  www.shawnpbrobinson.com/books

  Join Shawn P. B. Robinson’s Newsletter

  PROLOGUE

  Churoi wept.

  Hamel leaned forward, shaking his head. “You don’t need to tell me any of this, Churoi. If it is too difficult, you may keep it to yourself. I know enough to satisfy my need to understand that situation.”

  Churoi tried to speak but could not at first get the words out. Hands shaking, he wiped his eyes. He raised his head and locked eyes with Hamel, his face filled with confusion.

  “I don’t know why I feel this way.”

  “What do you mean?” Tollos asked in shock. “If you loved her, how can you not know why you feel that way?” She looked around and then shrunk back. “Forgive me, Master. I spoke out of turn.”

  Hamel held his tongue while Churoi stared at Tollos for a moment. The younger man appeared as unsure as to how to respond to her as he was about his feelings for Rollos.

  When he finally spoke, his words came out slowly. “I think, Tollos, you and I are both in a new world with new traditions. We are going to have to set aside the old ways. You cannot call me ‘Master’ again, nor can you think that you must hold back on speaking to me due to my former status.”

  He dropped his gaze and took a few breaths to calm himself. He opened his mouth to speak but appeared unsure as to what he should say.

  Hamel examined the young man. His bruises had mostly healed, and he looked more like himself than he had when he had arrived less than a week before. Hamel had invited him to the house to talk but had not expected Churoi to show up while Tollos and Mollos were there.

  The girls were outside in the yard, and Hamel looked over his shoulder to confirm that they were okay. He caught sight of Gollos through the window. She appeared to be teaching Mollos how to throw a knife. Hamel hoped the neighbor’s cat wasn’t out.

  He turned back and was just about to try to encourage Churoi when Tollos said, “Did you love her?”

  Churoi shook his head. “I don’t know.” He stared at the floor for a few moments, wringing his hands and shifting in his seat. “I only purchased her because I saw how you, Hamel, had grown so attached to Gollos. I wondered if I could have something similar. I found Rollos in the market and purchased her for just under five gold. Pulanomos knew about it. In fact, he encouraged it.”

  “He encouraged it?” Hamel had not expected that.

  “Yes. I suggested that we try to understand you better.” He paused for a moment. “It wasn’t because I really wanted to use what we learned against you. I actually wanted to understand you. You have always been a mystery to me, Hamel.”

  Hamel smiled. “Sometimes I don’t really understand myself.” He glanced over at Tollos, but her expression was nothing short of complete confusion. Maybe Olmosite Nomads didn’t joke like that. “Then what turned Pulanomos against her?”

  Churoi’s clenched his hands into fists. His knuckles turned white, and his voice came out in a rage. “According to Pulanomos, we were getting too close. He thought I was growing to have real affection for her, and that wouldn’t do.” He growled before continuing. When his words came out next, they were filled with rage and hatred. “He told me he was fixing the situation, and that I would thank him in time. I didn’t know what he was talking about at first, but then I found out he had sent men to kill her. I raced out of the Palace with my guard, but by the time I reached my apartment, she was…” He shook his head but did not say anything else.

  “She was dead,” Tollos said as if to inform Hamel. “He means that when he reached his apartment, he found her body. If Naromites had been sent, she was likely no longer in one piece. I would suspect they…”

  “Tollos,” Hamel interrupted, “I understand. You do not need to interpret his s
tory for me.”

  Churoi, by that point, had gone back to weeping.

  Hamel struggled to know how to feel. He had not purchased Gollos to gain from her, but to rescue her from slavery. He had taken her as his daughter as she needed a parent, and he knew he could love her—and it was the way of the People of the Ridge. The concept of buying someone to learn or grow and then to have that person killed simply because they were getting in the way felt not only horrific but far too complicated of a situation to understand. He did know there was a lot of pain, and that it was a wicked situation, but beyond that he was only confused.

  “I’m sorry this has happened, Churoi. I wish she was here with you now.”

  Churoi nodded as he wept. If the young man had been a Son of the Ridge, Hamel would have put his arm around him, but Olmosite men did not do such things. A moment later, Tollos sat down beside Churoi and rubbed his back. Hamel gathered Olmosite women could offer comfort where men could not.

  He gave Churoi the time he needed. He would invite his friend to stay for lunch, but Churoi had an appointment with Birrel and Lemmel. The two officers were going to debrief Churoi to find out all the information they could about the Olmosite army and the Naromites.

  His information would be invaluable, for the war with Olmos was far from over.

  THE DAY BEGINS

  Hamel settled down into one of the soft chairs he kept outside in the yard behind his house. His yard had been, for many years, his sanctuary. It was his place of rest.

  Even on beautiful days or days when the heat inside was stifling, he refused to have meetings with his officers or Council Members in his yard. It was a place for rest and a place for training.

  The area where he trained was worn down to the dirt. No grass ever grew there. Only the occasional weed managed to survive his daily time. Until recently, Markel had trained with him every day. Over the last while, it had been Gollos.

  Gollos stood off to the side of the yard with Mollos, the young Olmosite refugee. The two girls had grown close over such a short while. Their blossoming friendship had been good for Gollos. Mirnel had been too busy as of late with her responsibilities to Rellel, leaving Gollos looking for a new friend. It pleased Hamel that the two connected well.

  “Do you wish to speak about anything?” Tollos asked. “Or would my Hamel prefer to remain here in silence?”

  Hamel grimaced. He was fond of her—quite fond—but he hated the way she spoke to him. She often spoke as if she were a servant, desperately trying to please him. Occasionally, she would speak as though they were equals, but those times were rare.

  He was still unsure why she would call him “my Hamel”. Among the Olmosites he had met, a slave would refer to her master as “my Master.” Among the people of the Ridge, to call someone “my Hamel” would mean on some level he was hers. It would mean she had some claim on him as his wife, daughter, or Matir.

  He had often wanted to ask her, but he felt awkward about such a question. He decided to try a different approach. He wondered how she would respond to the same greeting. “I would like to speak about something, but I do not have anything in particular I would like to talk about, my Tollos.”

  The response was instant. The largest smile he had ever seen filled Tollos’s face, and her eyes lit up. She placed her hands over her heart and said, “I accept.”

  Hamel’s mouth dropped open, and he felt his head spin as confusion filled his mind. He had just crossed some line.

  Tollos stood to her feet and came for Hamel. He heard the soldiers behind him move, but he held up a hand. He knew his face would reveal the confusion and discomfort he felt, but Tollos did not react to his expression.

  She placed both hands on his cheeks, leaned in, closed her eyes, and came in for a kiss.

  Hamel pulled back and exclaimed, “Whoa!”

  Tollos let go and stepped back. Her face turned red, and she dropped her head low. “Forgive me, my Master. I must have misunderstood. I did not realize you found me so disgusting.”

  Hamel instantly wished he was in battle. It would be far easier than to deal with whatever might be going on at the moment. He thought perhaps he had unknowingly engaged in some form of courtship, as Olmosite courtship rituals were so different from those of the People of the Ridge. From his conversations with Gollos, he had come to understand that even among Olmosites, there were different traditions.

  Hamel knew he should respond. He wanted to tell her he thought she was absolutely beautiful. He wanted to find out if she felt the same way about him that he felt about her. He wanted to rule out the suspicion that she was a spy and marry the woman, though he had just met her.

  But to tell her she was beautiful so soon after meeting her seemed manipulative and cruel. He did not wish her to think he was only attracted to her because of the way she looked. But then, he was not sure what truly attracted him.

  “I am so confused,” Hamel said before he realized the words had come out of his mouth.

  “Yes, my Master,” Tollos said. She remained before him with her head bowed.

  Hamel glanced over at Gollos. The look on her face revealed her confusion. He felt some peace in knowing he was not alone. Beside her stood Mollos. The young girl, like her mother, stood with her head bowed toward Hamel.

  Hamel closed his eyes and shook his head. He found navigating such conversations to be some of the most challenging experiences of his life. He remembered a battle a few years before against the Brenchon armies. They had broken through the ranks and attacked him. One of the men struck him with the butt of his rifle, and Hamel had blacked out. When he awoke, the battle was over. His soldiers had rescued him and defeated the Brenchon army. He began to wish one of the soldiers behind him would knock him out and then merely tell him how it all had gone after.

  “Please, Tollos, sit down.”

  “Yes, my Master.” She sat down, but her head remained bowed. He turned to Mollos and found she had seated herself on the ground, still facing him and with her head bowed as well.

  He dropped his face into his hands and groaned. He quietly asked himself, “Why is all this so confusing?”

  “Tollos. First, please never call me ‘Master’ again. Second, please look me in the eye. Third, I do not understand Olmosite traditions. This is all confusing for me. I don’t know what just happened here. I did not mean to tell you that I find you disgusting. I don’t find you disgusting. I find you….” He paused. “I find you… I find myself attracted to you, Tollos.”

  He felt his face turn red. He began to long for Markel to run in at that moment and tell him that there was some crisis that required his attention. He would even take a fight against a Naromite. Certainly that would be easier.

  She slowly raised her head. When she did, he saw the tears that had begun to flow down her face. His heart broke. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement by the girls, and when he turned to them, Gollos sat beside Mollos, comforting her friend.

  “Please, Tollos. Help me understand. What is happening here? Why did you try to kiss me?”

  “I’m sorry, Hamel.”

  Hamel noted it was the first time she had said his name without adding “my” to it for a while. He had no idea if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

  “Among the wandering tribes, if a free-woman wishes for a man, she calls him her own. If he responds by calling her his own, it means he accepts her. After they kiss, they are married before the sun sets.”

  Hamel felt grateful he had pulled away. He had no intention of marrying anyone that day. “What does it mean if someone reacts as I did?”

  Tollos clenched her teeth for a moment, and anger flashed through her eyes. “It means the man thinks she is worthless, for he accepted her only to make fun of her.”

  Hamel buried his face in his hands once again. He took a moment and collected his thoughts before raising his head and saying, “It is not this way among the People of the Ridge, Tollos. A kiss among my people, our people, is a blessing. On the foreh
ead it means respect, love, compassion, pride. On the lips, it means passion. For me to reject your kiss is for me to declare that I respect you too much to treat you as common—you are not common to me. I cannot merely kiss you out of attraction. It… it must be more. It is different for us, Tollos.”

  “Then how do you declare you wish to wed someone?”

  Hamel marveled at the thought that she so quickly wished to marry him. But then, he reminded himself of what he had just learned. A relationship among the wandering tribes could go from interest to marriage within a day.

  “There are two traditions. Among the young, they are married by the end of their twentieth year. There are some who marry younger, such as my son’s wife. She was only nineteen when they wed, but it is uncommon. If the young man sees a woman he is interested in, he asks his Matir or Patir to speak to that woman’s Matir or Patir. If they are agreeable, then the two begin a courtship that rarely lasts more than four months. If, at the end of that time, they wish to wed, they seek their marriage blessing.”

  She nodded. “What about those who are older?” While she held his gaze, her expression was one of a woman with a wounded heart.

  “Then the man can simply ask, but often he’ll leave a flower on her doorstop. If she places it in a vase and leaves it outside her door, then they begin a courtship. If they wish to wed, they seek a marriage blessing.”

  “How does she know who left the flower?”

  Hamel smiled, despite everything. “If it is ever in question to the woman, she will never place the flower in the vase.”

  Tollos nodded. “Your traditions are complicated.”

  Hamel had never thought of Ridge traditions as anything other than beautiful. They held deep meaning and compassion. He certainly preferred the Ridge marriage tradition over a woman charging forward to kiss him, resulting in a wedding that day.