The Valley of Ten Crescents Series (Box Set: Books 1-3)

by Tristan J. Tarwater

  “Then I will wait for him,” Sindra said, folding her hands.

  “You will see the chalice tomorrow, at the ceremony,” the priest said, his voice pitching slightly higher. Derk narrowed his eyes.

  “I understand, but you have to understand, other relics have been thought to have been found in the past,” Sindra said. “It would be an embarrassment to both of our churches if this ceremony was performed and the chalice was found to be inauthentic. If I could see it, I could be assured it was in fact the genuine article. I am learned in the history of my Church, both before and in the Valley and could easily save both parties much face in just a few breaths.”

  “Please wait here,” the old priest said wearily, shuffling back through the door leading to the rest of the temple. Sindra turned to them, her eyes wide and lips pressed together. Derk thought she looked as if she were about to cry.

  “What’s going on?” Asa asked. Both he and Devra looked genuinely confused. Jezlen apparently hadn’t followed them in.

  “I came in to see the chalice and they’re saying I can’t see it,” Sindra said, panic in her voice.

  “They said the high priest has the key but he isn’t here.” Derk shrugged, hoping his words might calm the priestess down.

  “He’s in the stables,” Devra said. “We just saw him. He sent out two men.”

  “Which direction did he send them?” Derk asked.

  “North, northwest?” Devra said, shrugging. “He said if they didn’t find anything by first light, to come back.”

  “The riders I saw came from the northeast,” Derk said, wondering what reason the High Priest had for sending out the two men. Before he could ask, the sound of many footsteps made them all turn toward the doorway, where the High Priest and Riyin stood with several other priests.

  “Sister Sindra, Brother Gilen informs me that you wish to see the chalice,” the High Priest said. “I can guarantee you it is not a false replica. It is a thing of beauty we will happily return to your Church tomorrow, at the agreed upon time.”

  “I would like to see it,” Sindra said. Derk had never seen Sindra angry but he sensed she was getting close. “A few hours difference will not challenge the importance of the ceremony tomorrow or infringe upon the relationship between our two churches. The wrong item being delivered into our hands will, however.”

  The High Priest held up his hand and the rest of the priests behind him looked to each other nervously. “Sister Sindra, we cannot show you the chalice because we do not have it.” The priests behind him all started whispering and murmuring. Some of them eyed Asa with dread. Derk looked at Sindra, walking up so he could stand by her. Her eyes were full of disbelief.

  “What?” she said, confusion in her voice. “We…we came all this way. You said you had it!”

  “We did have it,” Father Solin said. “And last night, some among us who were against returning the relic to you stole it and escaped into the Freewild with it. We have sent men out to find them and retrieve the item but have yet to find anything but tracks.”

  “What are they going to do with it?” Asa asked. Derk cringed. He didn’t want to know the answer.

  “I don’t know, to be honest,” the High Priest said. “They may destroy it. They may keep it as a piece to bargain with your Church. Their leader said as much, in his opposition to returning it to you. He said goodwill was not enough of a gain.”

  “So he’s going to try and sell it?” Sindra asked. There was disgust in her voice. Derk found the notion sickening as well.

  “Perhaps,” Riyin said. His previous agitation was gone. Now he just looked tired. “They could try to get something from your Church. Land. Or medicine. Kirin was tired of living in the Freewild. He wanted our people to be integrated into the Valley proper, despite the misgivings of most of us.”

  “He might be riding for Whitfield,” Derk said. “If I had something I thought the Church wanted, I’d go there first.”

  “You’re probably right,” Sindra said to Derk, turning to Father Solin. “Where are your people looking?”

  “To the northwest, again,” the High Priest said. “We will send some of our men to check the trail. It could be you are right.” The priest came forward and took Sindra’s hands in his, bowing his head sadly. “I am truly sorry for this. I hope that you understand why we kept it from you. We thought they would be found by now and had several days before your arrival. Please forgive us.”

  Sindra didn’t say anything for a moment, but she nodded slowly. “I understand what you thought you were doing. Let us hope your men can find the chalice soon. It would be a terrible thing to have it used for personal gain or worse, lost once again.” Sindra took her hands from him and put her hands together. “If you don’t mind, I must retire with my travel companions. I will keep this endeavor in my prayers.”

  “As will we, as well as use our resources to find these men and your chalice.” The High Priest nodded his head and turned, he and the priests going back into the hidden area of the temple.

  Sindra didn’t look up, her head bowed toward the ground. She walked toward the exit, the three of them following after her. The light had faded and as they left they heard the bells signaling dinner. Jezlen stared at them as they filed out. “Well?”

  “They don’t have the chalice,” Sindra said wearily, walking back toward the dormitory. “They did, but several among them stole it, not wanting to return it to us. They have other men looking for the chalice and the people who stole it.” Derk thought now the tears would fall but they didn’t. He couldn’t imagine how frustrated she was.

  “What should we do?” Devra asked. She was rubbing the inside of her hand with her thumb. Asa stood by, his eyebrows furrowed across his face.

  “We could go find them ourselves,” Derk shrugged. “If they’re not back by first watch. Since there won’t be a chalice for a ceremony, there’d be no reason to stay.” He watched as Sindra winced and kept his head down, thinking of something else to add. “And doesn’t Jez here have extensive knowledge of the Freewild? And at finding people?”

  “I would be able to find something,” Jezlen said, too flatly for Derk’s taste.

  “Of course you could find ‘something’,” Derk said. He turned to Sindra “And Asa and I are here to defend if anything happens. They might respond better to you than the high priest. You’re the representative of the Church. You could negotiate with them. If the High Priest finds them first, what do you think he’ll offer them?”

  “It’s an opportunity to show the mercy of the Goddess,” Asa said.

  “You’re not going to hit them?” Devra asked, obviously surprised.

  “Maybe a little,” Asa admitted. “I mean, they did steal from the Church.”

  “I’ll give you my answer later,” Sindra said, looking overwhelmed by what they were saying. She put her hands up and then dropped them to her sides. “I’m actually very tired. I don’t have an appetite. Please, go on to evening meal without me.” Sindra hugged herself and looked toward the dormitory, blinking.

  “Are you sure?” Derk said. He looked to the twins and the Forester. “You go, I’ll be there in a bit.” Jezlen left first, Asa and Devra lingering, their concern for the priestess evident in their faces before they turned and followed the Forester. Derk nodded his head toward the dormitory and he and Sindra walked slowly in that direction.

  Derk thought maybe now she would cry but she didn’t. He slipped an arm around her waist and she let her arms drop from her chest. She sighed heavily, shaking her head and chuckling.

  “I don’t even know what to say,” Sindra huffed, laying her head on Derk’s shoulder. “I can’t say ‘I knew it.’ Or blame myself for trying to do this. We haven’t seen how it all ends yet. Only the Goddess knows.”

  “That’s a good attitude to have,” Derk said, resting his head on top of hers. “Try not to get caught up in blaming people. Better to make a plan to get out of it.” He heard music starting in the schoolhouse, and the smell
of food permeated the hot summer air. “You can’t blame yourself for what happened. You didn’t make those men steal the chalice.”

  “I know,” Sindra said. They walked through the doorway of the dormitory, into the room. Someone had placed a low bed in the middle, making it more cramped than before. Derk and Sindra laughed as they tried to maneuver around it, sitting down together on one of the bunks. Derk rested his hands on his stomach, the both of them leaning their backs on the wall. “If they find the chalice tonight, I would be so relieved.”

  “It’ll be found. The Valley is not a huge place,” Derk said. He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips, kissing it. “Even if the worst happens, which it won’t, trying to do good won’t be punished by the Church. Though it won’t end well for the people here.”

  Sindra nodded slowly, frowning slightly. What would the Church do if the chalice wasn’t found? Derk didn’t know. He wasn’t sure if the temple in Portsmouth who had commissioned the party would react or if the situation called for the intervention of the main temple in Whitfield. “I just…I really wanted this to happen,” Sindra said finally, disappointment heavy in her words. “I wanted to do something good for the Church. It seemed so simple.” She laughed, rubbing the side of her face with her hand. “I should have known. The Goddess brought out the secrets, didn’t she?”

  “Looks that way,” Derk shrugged. “Maybe the chalice being taken was a good thing? Now we know about the few of them here who want something, who wish to be integrated into the Valley proper. We wouldn’t have known about it otherwise.”

  “I suppose,” Sindra said. “I don’t know what the Church will say but it should be brought to their attention.” She smiled and then leaned over, kissing Derk on the cheek. “Thank you.”

  “For what?” he asked. He couldn’t help but smile back, trying not to seem too happy about the kiss.

  “For working this out with me,” Sindra said. Her eyes lowered and she squeezed his hand. “I guess all we can do is wait and see. And maybe go try and find it ourselves.” Sindra sighed again. “I would have packed more travel clothes had I known,” she said.

  “Me too,” Derk said. They sat there for a while, listening to the sounds coming from outside. Derk leaned over and kissed Sindra, taking the opportunity since no one was around. She kissed him back, brushing her hand against the stubble on his chin. They sat there in the candlelight kissing till Derk wondered if the door had a lock on it. Just as he squeezed her leg a knock came at the door.

  “Sister Sindra, are you okay?” the voice came through the door. It was one of the priests and it sounded like Riyin. “You are missed at evening meal. We were hoping to share a meal with you.”

  “I’m fine,” Sindra called. She waited for a breath before she said, “I’ll be there in a moment.” She turned to Derk and bit her lip, an apology in her expression. Derk pulled away from her. Thwarted again. Sindra laughed and stood up from the bed, sidestepping past the cot placed in the middle of the room as she straightened out her robes. She opened the door a crack. Derk could see the priest on the other side of the door. “My apologies. After the news I felt like I should retire to my room and pray on the matter.”

  “Oh,” Brother Riyin said. Sindra pushed past him and out of the room, Riyin looking into the room and seeing Derk there. Derk stood up and walked toward the doorway, Riyin staring at him.

  “What?” Derk said. “I was helping her pray.” He walked out of the dormitory, catching sight of Sindra as she headed toward the open-air dining hall. Inside people were playing music and sat on benches eating and drinking merrily.

  Most of the people seemed to be members of the clergy, but a few of the townspeople were sprinkled among the robes. Asa stood up and waved at Sindra, then Derk, a place of honor set for Sindra beside the High Priest. Derk sat at the end of the bench, climbing into a space next to Jezlen.

  “You missed it, there was a fire eater,” Devra said, her green eyes sparkling. Derk poured himself a glass of whatever was in the pitcher, finding it very sweet. “There are going to be dancers later.”

  “The food is not terrible,” Jezlen said. Round pieces of bread sat in piles down the length of the table and when Derk ripped one open he found it stuffed with herbs and bits of vegetable. It was still warm and shiny with butter.

  “Are we leaving in the morning?” Asa asked Derk. He watched Sindra and the High Priest talking, seeming to be making polite conversation. Derk shrugged.

  “If they don’t get it, we’ll get it,” Derk said, stuffing food into his mouth. He wiped his hands free of flour on a napkin and watched as the other people ate.

  It was a small gathering, about twenty people in all. They asked Sindra questions about the Church and how long she had been serving. A few even asked Derk, Asa and Devra about their involvement with the Church. Derk left out the part about being recruited in a bar fight but Asa rather joyfully filled it in. One priest asked Jezlen a question about the Church and the Forester answered by sipping from his cup and pretending he didn’t understand him.

  The fire dancers came and performed a stunning set, swinging torches, and a woman even wearing a belt of fire as she danced in time to the upbeat music, unscathed by the flames.

  Asa was called to stand in the middle as several men juggled fiery torches around him, the young man’s face screwed up in good-natured fear as balls of flame zipped past his head. The jugglers tried to get both Jezlen and Derk to stand in. Jezlen feigned ignorance of their words and Derk politely declined.

  Derk laughed as Asa was roped into a dance with the woman who wore the belt of fire, his face turning red as she shimmied her hips in front of him. After the drama of the stolen chalice, it was a nice change. Derk looked down the table at Sindra and smiled, all of them clapping in time to the music. Eventually Sindra relieved Asa and danced, the stringed instruments playing happily in the hot summer air. Tomorrow would be fine, Derk told himself. They would find the men who stole the chalice and they would return to Portsmouth triumphantly. And if they wound up having to go after the chalice themselves, they would find it and still bring back the holy item. If Derk had anything to do with it, he would turn a bad situation into a good one. It’s what he did.

  “They are definitely dead,” Jezlen said coolly, releasing the hand of the body he was standing over. Its arm flopped to the ground, lifeless.

  “This is bad,” Devra murmured, turning to Asa, her green eyes wide with fear. “Who could have done this?”

  “Only one thing,” Derk said, grimacing. The camp hadn’t just been attacked. It had been destroyed. The fire had died down and the morning mist dampened the entire camp. Bodies lay scattered, broken arrows littering the ground. The only sword they found was broken and black with blood and gore, all the bows gone. Whoever had attacked had taken the weapons as well as the chalice. There was no doubting the victims were the zealots the High Priest had spoken of. The male victims wore their beards forked and had shaved heads, moisture making their beards sag. A gash from a claw across the face of the only woman in the group made Derk’s stomach turn. “Freemen.”

  “Here?” Devra asked. “Why?” She wrung her hands together, a habit Derk noticed she did when worried, and Asa took off his hat.

  “They probably have a base close by,” Jezlen said. He walked around the camp, crouching down and scratching at the dirt with his fingers. “The Freemen mostly raid in lean times. If the zealots had not stolen the chalice, this would not have happened to them.”

  “These men and woman have families, you know.” The young priest who had accompanied them on their search shot Jezlen an amazed look, looking surprised by his seemingly heartless comment. The priest gestured toward the bodies, his face stricken with grief. “They didn’t ask for this.”

  “They should have kept a better watch.” Jezlen said. He stood up and walked over to the edge of the camp, ignoring the angry looks of the priest and the other men.

  “What am I supposed to do?” the priest said.
The priest hugged his arms to his chest and began to weep, seeing the bodies of the villagers. “I can’t believe this” he sobbed. “Our community hasn’t known a violent death in two generations. What do I tell their families?”

  “You comfort them,” Sindra said. “You use it to bring the community together. Honor their memories by speaking on the good they did in their lives, not the terrible nature of their deaths. But do not make them out to be martyrs.” The young priest looked up to Sindra and then nodded slowly.

  “Sometimes death is senseless,” Derk said, looking over a body face down in the mud. “When Freemen are involved, especially.”

  “We’ll put them in the cart and take them back to the village for last rites,” one of the villagers said. “Will you come back with us?”

  Sindra shook her head. “The chalice is still missing. We will try to track the Freemen and see if we can’t get it back.”

  “But how will you face them?” the priest asked. His eyes were red-rimmed and his brown hair plastered to his head. The sound of the cart made one of the villagers run to meet it, no doubt to deliver the news of what they had found. The cart had been brought to carry back any sick or wounded, and Derk frowned as he thought of the shock of the villagers.

  “It does not look like many attacked the camp. They most likely caught them by surprise,” Jezlen said. “Probably in the dark. Whoever kept watch most likely sat too close to the fire and was blinded.”

  “We have to at least try,” Asa said, looking grim. “We can’t go back to the Church and say, ‘Well, it looks like some Freemen got a hold of the chalice so we let them have it.’ It would look stupid.”

  “Maybe they dropped it along the way?” Devra said. “What use would they have for it? They can’t eat it and it isn’t a weapon. Maybe they opened the box and abandoned it?”

  It was very hopeful of Devra to think so but Derk nodded, watching as the men began to load bodies into the cart. The priest closed their eyes, his hand over his mouth as he looked on the deceased, tears falling once more.