Valley of the Ancients: Book Three of the Restoration Series

by Williams, Christopher

  Glancing out into the darkness, Flare halfway grinned. "I'm not sure I should fall asleep around Sadah. She looks to be a dangerous one."

  "She is young and impulsive, but I believe that she has enormous potential."

  Abner's words were full of pride, much like a father's. "Is she your daughter?" Flare asked.

  Shaking his head, Abner turned from the darkness back towards Flare. The fire played across the old man's face, giving him a haunted dangerous look. "No, she is my sister's oldest granddaughter, but it is easy for me to think of her as my daughter."

  She reminded Flare more of a rabid wolf than someone's gentle granddaughter. "Will she be a priestess of, er, uh, like you?" He still didn't know what to call their religion. Apparently, Abner paid him no mind.

  "If she wants to be. Like I said, she has enormous potential, but she also is very stubborn." Abner grinned, "Go to sleep. Neither Sadah nor I will bother you."

  He didn't like the idea at all, but after a moment, Flare nodded. He lay down and closed his eyes. The last thing he did before he fell asleep was to create some very close wards around him. If anyone approached him with malice they would get a painful surprise.

  Duke Angaria Wellis sat on the hard wooden cot in the pitch black darkness. He had been in this miserable cell for nearly a week and he was beginning to think he would be left here to rot.

  As a duke, and furthermore as a member of the king's Council of Lords, he was not used to being treated like this. In fact, there were few in the kingdom that might possibly get away with doing this to him. Few would even consider such a bold plan, and the few that might consider it were either mad or extremely desperate.

  Unfortunately, he was not being held by a madman or someone overly desperate. Well, perhaps his captors were rather desperate. He was being held by the Church, probably one of the few entities that could make him disappear. He rather hoped that it wouldn't come to that.

  He sighed deeply and immediately regretted it. The floor was covered with old straw and it was very dusty. He began coughing and that only seemed

  Besides the dust, a gut wrenching stench hung in the room. The first day that he had been in this miserable room, Angaria had accidentally kicked over the chamber pot. It really didn't matter though, he had the feeling that the cell's previous occupants hadn't normally used it. Most likely they just did their business wherever they felt like it.

  The bed wasn't much better than the floor. He had pulled off the flimsy blanket, assuming that it would be infested with bugs and fleas and such, but he still was itching like crazy. If the whole room was infested, then losing the blanket wouldn't make much difference.

  Twice a day, a small hinged door was opened and food was placed inside. The first such time this had happened, Angaria dove at the opening, cursing and demanding to be let out. He had refused to eat the moldy old piece of bread that sat on the floor beside the trapdoor, but since then he knew better. He only got two meals a day and as horrible as they were, he now knew better than to waste any part of them. In the morning, or at least he assumed it was the morning, a small wooden bowl of gruel would be pushed through the trap door. In the evenings, the trap door would be opened again, the bowl removed and a hunk of bread would be placed on the filthy floor. Once, a piece of moldy cheese had been left with the bread. To Angaria, the half-rotten piece of cheese had seemed like the finest delicacy. His stomach growled at the thought of food, but it didn't feel like it was near time for his next meal.

  Another lesson his jailors had taught him was to stay away from the trap door when it opened. The first several times it had opened, he had approached and demanded and begged for his freedom. On those occasions, the guards had simply closed the trapdoor without giving him food. Now when the trap door opened, he remained on his bed across the room from the door. His captors would place the food on the floor in front of the trapdoor and close the door. Then, and only then, would Angaria leave his bed and retrieve his meal.

  He was really beginning to wonder if he might die here. Would they just quit feeding him, or would they expedite his death somehow? Personally, he was hoping they would behead him rather than let him slowly starve to death. A quick death had to be better than going slowly.

  The door opened suddenly, and Angaria looked up, blinking at the light streaming into his cell. It wasn't the trapdoor that opened, but the main door. A man's outline stood there; the man's form was pitch black with all the light streaming around him. It took Angaria a moment to recognize the man, but then he fell to his knees.

  High Priest Dalin Olliston watched as Angaria groveled on the floor, babbling almost incoherently. Truth be told, he had been on the verge of ordering the Duke's death, but had changed his mind at the last moment. Men in Angaria's position could be most dedicated to the cause, but then again he would have to be watched closely. Men in Angaria's situation could also change sides rather easily. "Be quiet!" he snapped.

  Immediately, Angaria's ramblings cut off, but he remained kneeling on the floor.

  Dalin sighed deeply. "You continue to fail me, Angaria, but I continue to give you more chances. You failed me by letting that bastard join the Guardians. Then you failed me by letting King Darion adopt him." He held up a finger as he listed each failure, "Then you suggested sending him after Ossendar. I agreed only after you assured me that an ambush would pr/p>event him from ever getting there or back. Lastly, you failed me by letting him steal the sword from Prince Barrett. So now that bastard has the sword and appears to be trying to resurrect the Dragon Order. Prince Barrett has been disgraced, his marriage to Princess Emily of Ontaria has been called off, and Ontaria seems to be preparing for war against Telur. This is a catastrophe of epic proportions."

  For a moment, Angaria didn't say a word; he just remained kneeling on the floor. Finally, he climbed to his feet and stood there, a little shakily, facing Dalin. "You are correct, High Father. And if you wish my head, then it is of course yours. However, I ask for another chance. I most assuredly want to prove myself to you and the church."

  Dalin studied him for a moment, "Tell me. Which way do you think he would go? North to the elves, or south to rejoin his friends?"

  Angaria paused briefly, but he had already considered this himself. There had been little else for him to think of during those long days in his cell. "East or west," he said simply.

  Dalin's forehead wrinkled in confusion, "East or west? What makes you say that?"

  "Simple. Everyone will expect him to go home to the elves or south. That leaves east or west. Given that he has spent time at Fort Mul-Dune, I would guess that he went west as he already knows the area."

  Dropping his gaze to the floor, Dalin considered. Surprisingly, Angaria's reasoning made sense. Most of the soldiers, sent out to catch Flare, had gone south or northeast, but so far their reports showed no signs of him. Only handfuls of soldiers had been sent east or west. "That might explain why our soldiers haven't found any trace of him."

  "If I had been allowed to help in the search, then maybe he would already have been caught," Angaria said, with just a touch of anger in the words.

  "Be careful," Dalin said quietly, "I have signed your death warrant three times only to change my mind at the last possible moment. Do not try me just now."

  Angaria bowed his head, "My apologies High Father. Please forgive me."

  Dalin let the silence hang in the air for a long moment. "I am going to put you in charge of the search but if you fail me one more time, then it will be a long drawn out death for you. Do you understand?"

  Angaria looked up, his expression hungry, "Thank you, and I will not fail you again."

  Flare woke the next morning just before dawn, and found Abner and Sadah already up. Sadah was stoking the coals in the small fire pit that Flare had made the night before. She seemed to be experienced at it, and in no time there was a crackling fire. Abner was not far away, rolling up their blankets and putting them back into their packs.

  Seeing Flare moving,
Abner walked over and knelt down beside him. "I hope we didn't wake you, but we did try to move quietly."

  I must be exhausted, Flare thought, people moving around and I didn't even wake. He wasn't angry, rather he was more embarrassed than anything. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he yawned and stretched, "Which way are you headed?"

  "West. Over the mountains."

  Caught in the middle of a yawn, Flare nearly choked on his tongue. "Over the mountains?" He repeated, "You know a way over the mountains?"

  Abner smiled, "Yes. I come to this side of the mountains to trade and such, but most of my friends and family are on the far side, including those who seek my spiritual guidance." He paused for a moment and the only sounds were the crackling of the fire and Sadah messing with something on the other side of the camp. "In truth, most of those that I comfort and guide are wanted men in Telur. If they came over the mountains, they would be arrested, so I make the journey instead. I bring messages back and forth and sometimes I will do a bit of trading."

  Half priest and half merchant, Flare thought and had to fight to hide his smile. "Could you tell me how to get over the mountains? My plans were to try and find a way, but that could take weeks, if I even managed it."

  "I can do better than that," Abner said, his smile getting even wider.

  Something in the other man's tone bothered Flare. Abner sounded too pleased about something. "What do you mean?"

  "We would be honored to show you the way," Abner said with a small bow. "You can accompany us."

  "Accompany you?" Flare repeated dully. Honestly, it wasn't the worst outcome as far as Flare was concerned, but it was pretty high on his list. Judging by the look of abject horror on Sadah's face, and the plate of food she had just spilled, she wasn't too pleased with the idea either.

  "Yes, Sadah and I would be ecstatic if you would join us on our journey."

  Flare's first thought was that it must be a trick. Perhaps Abner was hopeful of getting a reward or something, but that just didn't seem right. Out of necessity, Flare had gotten better at judging people, and he just didn't think Abner was the kind of man to stab him in the back, although, he had been fooled before.

  "Master, perhaps," Sadah began to say, but she cut off abruptly at a look from Abner.

  "I don't trust you," Flare said bluntly.

  Sadah bristled and climbed to feet. She looked poised to spring but she held her tongue.

  Abner did not react angrily, instead he only bowed his head. "I would not expect you to, you just met us. I assure you, however, that we mean you no ill will."

  Flare studied the other two for a moment and then sighed deeply. These two were the best chance he had. Regardless of his like or dislike of the situation, he had to go along.

  Sensing Flare's acquiescence, Abner's ever present grin got even bigger.

  Chapter 4

  On the morning of the fourth day after joining up with Abner and Sadah, Flare found himself high up in the mountains. The journey so far was a mixed affair. Sadah did not like him and she didn't bother to hide it. Abner, on the other hand, seemed to be overly friendly to both of them, only occasionally snapping at Sadah when she let her true feelings show through. Flare and the girl had come to an understanding. He chose tov> & ignore her glares and rude comments and she chose to let him. On several occasions he had considered bending the girl over his knee, but he thought that Abner might object, and he really needed the old man's help.

  Besides Sadah's issues with him, things were going fairly smoothly. He got along well with Abner and they had settled into a bit of a routine. Even Sadah did her tasks without complaint.

  In addition to knowing a way over the mountains, there was another benefit to traveling with Abner. He carried spare cloaks and blankets. As they moved higher up the sides of the mountains, the temperatures continued to drop, especially at night. On his own, Flare would have been sorely pressed to stay warm enough, but Abner was only too happy to share his extra cloaks.

  There had only been one disagreeable situation between Abner and Flare. On the first day of their journey together, Abner headed to a small village nearby. When Flare learned of their destination, he flat out refused to continue, going so far as to tell Abner and Sadah to go on their own. It had been one of the few times that Abner's grin had disappeared, but Sadah had only looked relieved. In the end, the old man had grudgingly given in and they had turned more westward, climbing higher in the mountains.

  Their journey quickly turned from walking to climbing and Flare was forced to let his pack horse wander away. It worried him that he would no longer be able to outrun any pursuers, but the exhausted horse probably wouldn't have been able to outrun anybody as it was. He watched it meandering off, headed back down the mountain, and he hoped that it wouldn't meet a bad end.

  Whether or not Abner knew a way to the other side of the mountains was still unresolved, but the old man quickly impressed Flare with his knowledge of the area. He deftly led them around gorges, drop-offs, and other obstacles that would have had Flare backtracking and getting lost.

  It was still several hours before noon, when they stopped at the base of a shear cliff. The mountain at this point looked like an immense smooth wall that ran both north and south.

  Stopping in his tracks, Flare looked around, the freezing wind biting into the small patches of skin that were exposed. "What now? How do we get around that?" He motioned towards the cliff.

  Abner was in the lead of the small group, but he stopped and turned when Flare spoke. His face was covered with a white cloth to help keep him warm. "We don't get around it," he called, "we get over it."

  Scanning the side of the mountain, Flare searched for any sign of a trail, any sign of a way up the mountain. Seeing none, he looked back to Abner, "How?"

  Moving close, Abner pointed. "See there, where the mountain appears to be cracked."

  Crack was an accurate description of the break that Abner was pointing towards. The southern part of the mountain appeared to be pushed slightly farther eastwards and jutted out just a bit more than the northern side. The whole "crack" was rather rough looking.

  Flare swallowed hard, "I see it. What about it?"

  "We climb it," Abner said simply. It was hard to tell with the white cloth over his face, but he had to be smiling.

  "Are you crazy?" Flare asked, looking back to the mountain. "That's impossible."

  "Sadah and I traveled this way less than a month ago. Surely, if she can make it than you can too."

  "How long does it take?" Flare asked, looking at the top of the mountain. It was covered in snow and the wind was whipping the snow around, making the mountain top look like it was covered by a thick cloud.

  "It would take less time if you would quit asking so many questions," Sadah said from behind them.

  Abner didn't say a word, he just looked around Flare at the girl and she dropped her eyes to the ground. She looked appropriately cowed.

  "We do not have to climb the complete way to the top." He pointed to a spot that was maybe two thirds of the way up the side of the cliff. "There's a cave in the side of the mountain, and in the back of that cave is a tunnel through to the other side."

  Flare sighed deeply. He still wasn't looking forward to the coming climb, but at least it wasn't as bad as he had thought.

  For a while, the going wasn't that bad. The crack in the mountain was rather wide at the bottom and narrowed the higher up it went. At the base, the crack was nearly ten yards across and Abner led them to the left side where they started their climb. Sadah followed the old man and then disapprovingly, Flare brought up the rear.

  Initially, the going was easy and he began to feel better about the ascent. It started out similar to steps, with the height of the steps irregularly spaced. In truth the "steps" were the jagged pieces of the crack.

  The wind started getting more noticeable and several times Flare stopped moving until a particularly powerful gust passed. He just stood there with a death grip on the ro
cks as the wind whipped his cloak around him. After the third time of the wind trying to dislodge him from the rocks, he glanced down. Immediately, he wished he hadn't. He had not realized how high they had already climbed. The ground seemed so far away. His mouth instantly went dry and his hands began to sweat.

  Breathing deeply, Flare yanked his gaze off of the ground far below and turned it upwards. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths, willing himself to stay calm. He had been in some high places before, but never on the jagged edge of a cliff.

  Forcing his eyes open, Flare realized with a start that he could no longer see Abner and Sadah. They had just been here a moment ago. It was impossible for them to have climbed out of his sight that quickly. Just then, Abner's head popped back into view.

  "You coming?"

  Blinking in surprise, Flare guessed that Abner and Sadah were resting on a rock shelf. The idea of taking a break was exciting, but he wasn't sure how much he would like looking out over the edge of the mountain. "Yeah. Be there in a moment."

  In no time, Flare reached the small landing and pulled himself onto the rock shelf, quickly scooting away from the edge. The landing was small and cramped, a jagged piece of rock hung out horizontally, giving the shelf a ceiling that was just three or four feet high.

  Panting, Flare just lay there, enjoying the respite.

  "Afraid of being this high up?" Sadah asked, her tone containing the merest hint of glee.

  Flare chose to ignore her. "How much higher do we have to go?" he asked of Abner. The old man also lay on his side. It was rather cramped for a grown man to sit without hitting his head on the overhanging rock. "Higher? No higher." He pointed behind Flare, "There's our way through the mountain."