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

by Tristan J. Tarwater

  “Gaela of Black Sands,” Tavera said, trying to make it sound like she knew all about Gaela and Black Sands. She cleared her throat and contemplated the food. More spring salad, barley bread, eggs in broth, and beans. “She’s the map maker who’s helping us.”

  “The woman you were speaking on, Little?” Tender asked. Little nodded.

  “And what exactly did Little say?” Tavera asked. She put a plate in the spot beside her, Gaela finally sitting down next to her before she served herself some soup.

  “That she was a sky mapper and worked for the map maker,” Tender said. “As a helper.”

  “If she made the map, ain’t she a map maker?” Tavera said.

  “I did more than help him,” Gaela chimed in finally, her hands in her lap. “I did most of the maps and the indexing during the last few months. Most of the maps we’ve sold the last three seasons have been done by my hand.”

  “Why’s he saying you’re his helper then, if you’re doing the work?” Little spoke up.

  “Well, I’m a stranger here,” Gaela admitted. “People feel more confident in a map made by another Valleyman than a foreigner.”

  Tender smiled at Tavera. “Well that was nice of you, inviting her for evening meal, as a way of saying thanks.”

  “Actually, she wants to come with us,” Tavera said. She faked a smile at Tender, his own smile melting from his face at her words.

  “What?” Tender said. “No. Why?”

  “She says she can help us and I think she can,” Tavera said. After seeing what Gaela had done in alley, her maps could be crap for all Tavera cared. Having someone with Gaela’s abilities wasn’t a bad thing, especially given the unknowns in the situation. “We’re going up against quite a few people. Another head isn’t something we should be turning away. Not to be rude, but I don’t exactly see anyone in gray offering us much in bodily support.”

  “Why would she want to help us?” Tender said, pointing to Gaela but speaking to Tavera. “She don’t know the sister. And it’s going to be dangerous, we can guarantee that.”

  “Because I want to help,” Gaela said. “I don’t have to know the sister to know she’s in a terrible situation. No one should be trapped by people they’re afraid of.” Gaela looked at her empty plate, her eyes growing sad. “After you left, the map maker began to cry in the backroom, weeping for Kella and his cousin and the others they had lost. I told him I would ask to join you, to help when he couldn’t and he said if you would have me, I might go. Your success is important to more people than just you three and the sister.”

  Tender sighed, pouring himself another drink. Tavera ate and watched, seeing Tender slowly begin to accept Gaela into their group, knowing they could use another person. “Can you swing a sword?” he asked, taking a sip of his beer.

  “Well, if we’re going to be honest, you can’t swing a sword,” Little muttered, poking at his own food. Tender shot Little a look, Little shrugging in answer. “Swinging a club ain’t the same as a sword, Braxton, it just isn’t. Hitting a man in the head isn’t running him through.”

  “You can’t swing a sword?” Tavera asked, the confidence she was starting to grow dropping considerably. “Weren’t you a browncloak?”

  “We used clubs even then,” Tender said, trying to make it sound like a matter of pride. “I’m more than capable with a club. Or a table leg. Large branches.”

  “Maybe we ought to leave you here with the priestesses and take Gee with us,” Tavera laughed.

  “It’s Gaela, please,” Gaela said. She reached over and took the bowl of salad and served herself.

  “Sorry, Gaela it is,” Tavera said. “Look, Gaela can help us. Show ‘em.” Tavera started in on her soup, still hot and steaming, slices of egg floating in the earthy broth.

  “Show what?” Little asked, alarm in his voice. “What is she going to show?”

  “Calm down, Little,” Tavera said.

  “Maybe now’s not a good time,” Gaela said. “A priestess might walk in.”

  “What is she going to show us?” Tender asked, putting butter on his bread.

  “You have to do something,” Tavera said, talking with food in her mouth. “Come on.”

  “Okay,” Gaela said. Dark eyes scanned over the table, settling on Tavera’s soup. Tavera stopped eating, and edged away from Gaela. She looked to Tender, cocking an eyebrow at the woman.

  Gaela’s fingers bent in a strange gesture, palm facing the bowl while she concentrated. Tavera looked around, the sound in the room seeming to wane again while the surface of the soup rippled. Nothing else on the table moved. Little mumbled something under his breath. Something emerged from the surface of the bowl of soup, a gray mist settling into the palm of Gaela’s hand. Tavera leaned forward and tapped the surface of her bowl with a spoon.

  “It’s frozen,” Tavera said.

  “What?” Tender said, reaching over and picking up the bowl of soup. Tavera rubbed the tips of her fingers together and looked at the swirling cloud spinning over Gaela’s palm. She reached out and put her hand over Gaela’s, feeling the heat rising off of it, the heat from her soup drifting upward into the air, snaking around Tavera’s hand.

  “By all that’s green and good,” Little whispered. Tavera looked at him and moved her hand, the heat slipping up and dissipating into the air. Tender still held the bowl of soup upside down.

  “By Her bosom,” Tender gaped. “A Wield-”

  “No,” Gaela said. “I’m not one of your Wielders. I make magic taught to me by my mother, the magic of those from Black Sands, from the Thousand Boats of the Blessed. I’m asking to come with you. Please, let me help. No one should be forced to stay where they don’t wish to be.”

  Tender put the bowl back on the table. He was trying to find some way to say no, Tavera could see it in his face, the way he didn’t look at Gaela. He looked up finally, eyes narrowed slightly. “Do you believe in the Goddess?” he asked.

  “That shouldn’t matter,” Little spoke up, sitting up straight on the bench. “If Gaela is willing to help, we should have her.”

  “Let’s not forget,” Tavera murmured, serving herself another bowl of soup. “Who we’re after believes in the Goddess as well. So belief ain’t exactly in our favor here, is it?”

  Tender nodded, looking down. He drummed his fingers against the table top, as if waiting for someone to say something else. Tavera just sat and ate, nodding to Gaela as she started to eat as well. Eventually Tender sighed.

  “Alright. You should come with us.” The look on his face was one of surrender, but also relief. “Another body in this situation, willing and able, who can hold their own--”

  “Probably better than you can,” Little said.

  “We don’t know that for a fact!” Tender said. “Everyone here is capable of helping in some way and willing, and that is what the Goddess will honor. Our desire to help. Our desire to get Sister Kella back and out of harm’s way. She will guide us through this, She will get us there safely and back safely and those who are wrong will be dealt with, as She deems.”

  Tavera blinked. It was the first time anyone had said anything about what was to be done with the cultists, with Cyric and his people. It was vague enough that Tavera didn’t think now was the time to inquire further but it was something Tender had thought about, obviously. Tender looked to Tavera. “You vouch for her?”

  “I’m not vouching for anyone,” Tavera said. “I vouch for myself, and if that’s good enough for everyone here, I’ll take the same from them.” She finished her soup and looked at the rest of the food, wanting to eat more but no longer feeling hungry. “We think we can do it, right? Right?”

  “Yes,” Tender said. Little nodded, his face serious.

  “Yes,” Gaela said. They sat there for a moment, picking at the food awkwardly. Gaela finally drew in a breath and spoke, breaking the silence. “So, when are we leaving?”

  “First light tomorrow,” Tender said. Tavera groaned inwardly. First light. Why di
d the days always start at first light? “Meet us here with anything you might need. The church is supplying food, horses, water, raincloaks.”

  “I don’t have much,” Gaela said with a smile. “Just clothes and some tools.”

  “Can you ride a horse?” Tender asked.

  “Not…really, no,” Gaela said sheepishly.

  “She can ride with me,” Tavera offered. She saw Little start to say something and then stop himself, blushing. “I’m not too sure in the saddle.”

  “She should ride with the best rider not the worst,” Little said, matter-of-factly. “Can’t risk losing the both of you because you can’t keep your hands on the reins.”

  “He has a point,” Tender said. “Sorry, Point, you’ll have to ride your horse alone.”

  “It’s fine,” Tavera said, ripping into a piece of bread. “I’ll manage. Or die from a horse-related injury.”

  “Are they dangerous?” Gaela asked.

  “Only if you don’t know what you’re doing and even then, yes,” Little said. His attempt at a joke failed. Gaela’s face grew pale and Tavera had to laugh.

  “Don’t worry, Gaela,” Tavera said. “Little’s a good rider. And I’m sure the church will give us calm animals.”

  “I hope so,” Gaela said with a smile. “Well, I should be going, I must prepare for tomorrow.”

  “Actually, will you stay a bit longer?” Tender asked, getting up from his seat. “We’ve a meeting with Sister Cera after vespers about what we’ve found out. Point, you can share what you know so we can make our plan before we leave.” He picked up the plates in a stack, clearing the table without being asked. “Can you stay for vespers?”

  “I can,” Gaela said. “Will you all be attending?”

  “I was going to step out,” Little stammered. The brothers exchanged a look, Tender looking exasperated, Little quietly defiant. “I’ve things to get ready.”

  “If you just stay for vespers, you can do it after the meeting,” Tender sighed, gesturing with plates still in his hands. “We can meet right after, then you can go do whatever it is you have to do. Please, just stay.”

  “Fine,” Little said. “I’ll stay.”

  “Good, it’s settled,” Tender said, a hint of triumph in his voice. “Temple, then a meeting with Sister Cera. She’s been a great help to us.” Tender didn’t look at Tavera when he said it, but turned and walked toward the door leading to the main dining hall.

  “Well, we’ve got a few breaths, I’m going to get washed up and changed before temple,” Tavera said. “Gaela, want to stay here or come with me?”

  “I’ll stay here,” Gaela said, looking around the room for the first time since they had walked in, eyes big. She looked to Little. “Make sure he doesn’t run away.”

  “I’m sure his brother will appreciate that,” Tavera grinned, picking up her pack. “Save me a seat?” she said, slinging it over her shoulder. Little nodded with a roll of his eyes and Tavera left, turning away from the kitchen and down toward the stairs leading down to the basement of the temple. Tavera waved at the priestess sitting at the top of the stairs who let her pass, her boots clunking down the stairs just as they had down so many church basement steps. A clean-shaven man came up the stairs, smelling of herbs and hair oil. Tavera wondered if he was going to temple or to meet someone. Under other circumstances, she might have tried to find out, but duty and Tender called.

  Tavera snorted as she set her pack down on the hard floor, all the sleeping mats piled up for later use. A woman was using the wash bowl and pitcher so Tavera took off her cloak and looked through her pack for something to wear to temple. Her skirt was fairly unwrinkled. She yanked this out and pulled off her boots and britches, pulling the skirt on and tying it at the waist. She secured her belt around her hips, making sure her tunic covered it, and retightened the cords at the bottom of her underbust. Her cloak was traded for her shawl, a gift from Old Gam, the telltale embroidery almost like a signature.

  Tavera couldn’t help but hold it up to her face and inhale its scent. It had been a gift from Gam, and Gam always wrapped her gifts around a bundle of sleepsweet before she handed them over, scenting them. Derk had kept a good handful of herbs for his pipe in the shawl. When Gam had given it toTavera it had been too cold to wear it. She could still smell the tobacco and sleepsweet; it reminded her of Derk giving Gam a kiss and Gam making a face after. Tavera held the soft fabric in her hands, tears starting to sting in her eyes.

  A tap on her shoulder sent Tavera wheeling around, her mouth falling open, surprise on her face. Tender took a step back, almost as surprised as she was. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” he said. “I just, uh…I came down to get washed up, I saw you there but you didn’t stir when I said your name.” He put his hands on his back and rocked back and forth on his heels. “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” Tavera said. She sniffed and blinked, pushing her tears back as she draped her shawl around her shoulders. “Just got lost in thought,” she managed, smiling and raising her brows at Tender.

  “Right,” Tender said. “Lots to think about.” He looked off to the side while Tavera pulled her rosary out of her pouch, wrapping it around her wrist, murmuring the blessing over it.

  “I’ll see you in temple,” Tavera said, ignoring Tender as he looked at her, walking over to the wash bowl. She heard him changing his shirt, pulling his old one off and putting a fresh one on while she splashed the water on her face, washing her hands in the clear water. She looked back to see him combing his hair with his fingers, feeling along his scalp to part his dark hair in the right direction. “You not gonna shave?” she asked.

  “Nah,” Tender said. “I look as serious as I feel with the beard.” He smiled, his eyes squinting. Tavera wondered what he looked like without it but nodded.

  “Fair enough,” she said, drying her hands on the towel left by the priestesses. “See you,” she said, ducking to the stairs and skipping up. As she walked the scent of her shawl went with her, mixing with the smell of the temple incense and candles till finally she was in the temple itself, the oil and perfumes of the altar drowning out her thoughts and old memories. Tavera slipped into a pew, staring up at the statue of the Goddess placed at the head of the temple, Her Black Hands outstretched in a gesture of acceptance. Tavera hoped the comfort of the Goddess was with Sister Kella, alone but surrounded. Before anyone else showed up, Tavera bent her head in prayer, hoping the four of them could do what they set out to do.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Pasts Uncovered

  Sister Cera closed the door, two other priestesses present in the room. Tavera recognized them from vespers, one of them older than Sister Cera. She had played the guitar during the singing, her alto voice lending itself prettily to The Valley is Her Love.

  “This is Sister Mereel and Sster Perla,” Sister Cera said. “They’ll be getting your provisions ready for your journey.” She looked to Gaela and smiled warmly. “I do not believe we have met.”

  “I’m Gaela,” Gaela said. “I was apprenticed to the map maker but when I heard of Point and her friends’ endeavors, I felt I had to come along.”

  “Those who are moved, the Goddess shall make a way for them,” Sister Cera said. “I’m sure Berden appreciates you going when he could not.”

  Gaela simply nodded. She and Little sat at the table. In the service Gaela had seemed interested, curious. Little on the other hand…he obviously didn’t want to be there. And Tender obviously didn’t care about how Little felt. Tender put a small stack of books between them.

  “Well, we thank you for any help you can give,” Tender said. Tavera knew something about the situation annoyed Tender but they didn’t have the luxury of time for him to sort it out. Tender opened one of the books. “This is the account by the High Priestess who was here when Sister Kella was taken all those years ago. It mentions those who brought her back and it mentions the cultists numbered around forty-five. The party that went on the mission had two archers and a tracker
with dogs. They subdued more than half of the cultists, sneaking up on them during a service. They found a dozen hiding in a room, door barred. The frail, women with child, children, the elderly. They found Kella by herself in a room, holding a sickle.”

  “What happened to the people they found who were hiding?” Little asked.

  “All of them were asked if they wished to come to the Valley proper or remain in the Freewild,” Sister Cera said.

  Tavera frowned. “People who abduct people, asked to come into the Valley by the church?”

  “Not the church,” Sister Cera said. “The rescue party. They worked independently of the church and the barons, though we did provide them with food and gear.

  “Where are those who came to the Valley?” Tavera asked. “Did they come back with Kella and them who rescued her?”

  “They came back and were dispersed,” Sister Cera said with a nod.

  “Did you find anything about the magic?” Tavera asked, standing up.

  “Magic?” Sister Cera said, her thin brows knitting together on her face. “What magic?” She looked to Tender.

  “When Cy came to our town and left,” Tender said. His face looked pinched, as if he hadn’t wanted to bring it up. “It looked like the roofs were on fire but after a while the flames went out suddenly. Not a thatch had been burned.”

  “And,” Tavera added, not able to keep from narrowing her eyes at Tender, “with the sickle. We exchanged blows from afar. I hit him with a dagger, he…his sickle started to catch light on it, and it shot at me. And…it hurt.” Tavera held her breath, hoping no one looked at her like she was crazy. “He knocked me out and I had a strange dream. It felt real, very real.”

  “What was in the dream?” the sister asked. One of the other priestesses came forward and started searching among the books.

  “It was all very familiar, but off,” Tavera said. “It was a situation I had been in before, but…I’d been scared when it happened in real life. In my dream I was terrified.”