The Hell of It (7 page)

“Let's go,” the more senior city guard said. His smugness was gone. He just wanted to be shut of this affair. He grabbed Malen's bound arms and began pushing him out the door.

Fury and frustration and deep, sickening loss flared inside him. Beyond the door, he looked up the wharf where the Leaguemen walked on either side of his son. The boy's shoulders were slumped, his head down. Malen's only thoughts were that he might never see his boy again, and that perhaps, if nothing else, Roth would find a better life with the League.

In that moment, something occurred to him. Something he desperately needed to tell his son. He called out, his voice echoing up the wharf front, “Roth!”

The boy jerked around, pulling his escorts to a dead halt. His eyes had widened with surprise. Hope, maybe.

“Not rough men,” Malen said, shaking his head. “Good men. We're good men.” Malen straightened his back, the motion an invitation for his son to do the same.

Roth stared a moment, as if fighting the feelings inside him. Then, his boy straightened too. It was the bravest thing Malen ever remembered seeing. He smiled at the lad. Nodded.

Then the Leaguemen urged Roth back to their course. And Malen went the other direction in the company of the city-men, thinking mostly about the thin line a man walked as he tried not to disappoint his child. And the hell of it when he did.

He'd told his boy not to worry. He'd told his boy to trust him. That they'd get through all this together. But in the end, he'd lost Roth anyway, even after being willing to gamble Marta's nice things. His
last
things of her. And now the very last, very best part of them, Roth … was gone too.

But even in that bitter moment, Malen felt a hopeful smile play at his lips. Yes, he'd disappointed his son. He'd have to live with that for a long time. But the League would see to Roth's schooling. The boy would never go hungry. He'd have options when he reached his Standing, became an adult. And as for Malen himself, the stocks wouldn't hold him forever. Five years, perhaps. Maybe ten. And during that time he'd eat better than he had in months. Sleep more, too. He had the League to thank for that, since they believed a man could change, and made sure he had the strength to try.

Being away from Roth would be the true hell. But it was temporary. The city-men may have thought they were clever, deceiving the League about their bargain. And the League may have thought they'd eased Malen down a bitter path. In reality, they'd all given him and Roth new life. And when he finally made it back to his boy, each of them better for the years in between, no heaven or hell would part them again. That was a promise he'd damn sure keep.

He straightened his back further yet, and made the city-men work to keep pace.

 

Copyright © 2015 by Peter Orullian

Art copyright © 2015 by Tommy Arnold