Valley of the Ancients: Book Three of the Restoration Series

by Williams, Christopher

  "So am I," Abner said. "But you have no idea what you did?"

  Flare shook his head, "No. I've never even heard of anything like it." He looked back up at the mountain in the distance. "I would like to get started, I want to get away from the mountain."

  "Are you ready to travel?"d o Abner asked, surprised. "I expected that we might have to spend a couple of days here, before we headed north."

  "Yes. At least I think so," Flare said, nodding his head. "I don't want to wait for those soldiers to find me." He reached out and took Abner's hand, "Thank you. I think that without your help the soldiers would have caught me." He sighed deeply, "I'll take my leave of you and head south."

  "South?" Abner asked, still sounding surprised, "you can't go south."

  Frowning now, Flare moved over and sat on one of the old logs. "Why not? South is the way I always planned to go once I was on this side of the mountains."

  Abner didn't answer right away, instead he watched Flare, studying him. Finally he said, "The gods conspire in mysterious ways. I thought you were lying to us on that first day when you said that the only reason you went west was because no one would suspect you of coming this way, but you were telling the truth. Weren't you?" He waited for Flare's confused nod, before continuing, "You can't go south. You must come north with us."

  There was silence for a moment and Flare considered how to answer this strange demand. "And why must I do that?"

  "Because the Valley of the Ancients lies to the north." Abner said quietly.

  "The Valley of the Ancients," Flare repeated dully. "What's that?"

  "North of here, there is a small valley and the few people in these parts have always called it the Valley of the Ancients. I am one of the few who have traveled to see it. I have stood in the mouth of the valley and looked out over it's length, but I have not gone into the valley." He grinned at the bewildered look on Flare's face. "You see, my boy, the sentries at the valley mouth would not let me pass because I am not a member of the Order." He leaned in close and place a hand on Flare's shoulder, "The Dragon Order, that is."

  Chapter 5

  Derek's eyes popped open and he pushed himself slightly up off of the ground. The other three Guardians and Keenan were all rolled up in their blankets asleep. Leela and the other four rescuers were on the far side of the fire, near the edge of the forest. They also were asleep.

  Their little party had spent the last ten days traveling farther into the forest. Leela assured them that they were not prisoners, but she also insisted that they accompany her. Sounds like prisoners to me, Derek had thought at the time and he had seen his thoughts mirrored in the faces of his friends. Nevertheless, they had accompanied Leela and her friends deeper into the forest. It seemed the prudent thing to do. Each of their five traveling companions had an unusual talent, and those talents had been used most effectively against the soldiers.

  The trip had been slow. The Guardians, along with Keenan, were exhausted from their flight from the fort of Dahl-Rucka. Kara was the slowest and most tired of the bunch, followed, surprisingly enough, by Trestus. Derek would have put money on Enstorion being next, but the elf easily kept up with the group.

  Their escort of wildlings were led by Leela, who was the only oosene of the five to be genuinely friendly. Cleatus and Seth, who according to Trestus could turn into animals, were indifferent to the Guardians, but they were the most vulgar and crude people that Derek had ever met. The last two people in their little party were Karina, who could somehow control the very plants around them, and the boy Reega, who even the animals would do as he bid them. Karina avoided them, completely happy to not have to interact with any of them. Derek wished that Reega would do the same. The boy was young and cocky, and for some reason he didn't like the Guardians. Perhaps, it was because they were strangers or maybe there was another reason. Whatever his problem with them, the boy never seemed to miss a chance to taunt or insult them. Several times they had nearly come to blows and Leela had begun using Reega as an advance scout, a move that pleased the Guardians but irritated Reega to no end.

  Tonight was the first time that their rescuers had not set a watch. Either they felt comfortable here, or there was something else going on. Regardless, Derek meant to try and take advantage of the situation. Still lying on the ground, he propped himself on his right arm and studied the five sleeping shapes on the other side of the fire. Each one was breathing steadily and they no showed no signs of stirring.

  As quietly as he could, Derek tossed his blankets off and climbed to his feet. Why oh why did his joints choose now to pop like an eighty year olds? Once he was standing, he studied the rescuers again. Still no sign of stirring, nothing.

  Turning his back to them, Derek strode into the forest, taking great pains not to step on small sticks or dry leaves. Despite his caution, it only took him a few moments to get out of sight of the camp.

  Something didn't feel right to him. If their escorts had decided to quit setting a guard, there had to be a reason. It was possible that they knew the Guardians could not possibly get out of the forest without being overtaken, but that had been true for days. So why change now? Could they be in the shadow of whatever place these people called home? He didn't think they were feigning sleep, so what were they up to?

  Moving farther into the woods, Derek paused in the dark shadows of a very large oak tree. He closed his eyes and listened intently for any changes in the night sounds. Then it hit him, it was quiet, probably too quiet.

  He opened his eyes and looked up. The limbs of the oak tree were lined with small furry animals. They were sitting quite still, but their eyes seemed to almost glow in the dark. Turning his attention to the other trees, he noticed that small yellow eyes watched him from those limbs as well. Dropping his eyes from the tree limbs, he spotted other points of light that had to be creatures watching him. Reega! he thought. Instead of standing guard, that little brat had got his friends to do it for him.

  Thinking he might as well give them something to watch, Derek turned his back to the small creatures, dropped his pants, and squatted down to answer nature's call.

  When he returned to camp a little while later, Reega raised his head. Grinning, he watched Derek all the way back to his blankets.

  They reached the wildling's village early the next afternoon. Calling it a village was being generous. There were five or six small buildings. Derek couldn't quite call them houses as they were more like shacks. The shacks were arranged around a circular area, it may have been grass once but now it was nothing but dirt. On the far side of the ceaslearing, there was a larger building, big enough where all of the other structures could have easily fit within its walls with room to spare. Whereas the shacks looked like a decent puff of wind would blow them over, the bigger building was made of oak planks and stone and seemed quite sturdy.

  It was towards this larger building that Leela led them. The other four wildlings spread out behind them causing the hair to stand up on the back of Derek's neck. Regardless of what they said, this was beginning to feel more and more like being a prisoner.

  Before they reached the steps, a man emerged from the building and stood on the small porch, looking down on them. He was an older man with a thin face that made his nose look longer than it was. His hair was graying fast and thinning on the top of his head. Instead of deer hide clothing, this man wore clothes that would belong on any storekeeper in Dalar. Besides the clothes, there was something else that just didn't feel right about the man, and it took Derek several moments to realize what it was. His hands were smooth, they had the look of a nobleman's hands, or those of a wealthy merchant, certainly not the hands of a hard working person who lived in a forest.

  Leela stopped at the bottom of the steps, "Gilbert, where's the Master?"

  Blinking in surprise, Derek studied the old man on the porch again. He had assumed that this was the man they were coming to see.

  The old man, who apparently was Gilbert, crossed his arms and sighed. "You jus
t missed him, he left this morning."

  "Where did he go?" Leela asked, looking surprised at the news.

  "He's traveling to the west, to investigate a disturbance near the edge of the forest."

  Leela frowned. "But he was expecting us, why would he leave?"

  Smiling, Gilbert stepped down to the topmost step, "He did not bother to explain himself to me. He rarely does." He glanced past the Guardians to the other wildlings, "You may go. I would speak to our guests."

  Cleatus, Seth, and Reega paused for only a moment before they turned and walked away. Karina had began walking even before Gilbert had finished speaking. Leela started to leave as well, but Gilbert stopped her before she even took two steps.

  "Not you, Leela. You can join us." He turned his attention to the Guardians, "Please join me inside," he motioned in the general direction of the building behind him. "I daresay you haven't enjoyed a decent meal in some days."

  They followed Gilbert inside. The interior of the building was open, it was basically one huge room. Pillars held up the ceiling, and support beams intertwined over their heads. It had the feel of a hunting lodge. A small fire burned in the fireplace on the far side of the room. Numerous tables and chairs were scattered around, but only one table had anything on it. The table in the middle of the room had several wooden trays loaded down with food. It wasn't exactly what Derek would have picked if given a choice, but the sight of the food still made his stomach rumble. The platters contained fruits, cheeses, breads, and even a few cold fish. Not exactly a feast, but it was wonderful in his eyes.

  Looking up from the table, Derek caught Gilbert watching him.

  Gilbert grinned at the enthusiasm that his guests showed towards the food. Hediv motioned towards the table, "Please. Help yourselves."

  They didn't have to be told twice and for a while all they did was eat. Even Leela joined in, although she didn't appear to be as ravenous as the rest. Silence settled in except for the occasional belch. Gilbert, alone, did not eat. He just sat there smiling as his guests inhaled the meager food.

  After a bit, Derek leaned back in his chair and licked his fingers clean. Probably wasn't manners worthy of a king's court, but no one seemed to mind. Sighing contentedly, Derek looked out over the table. Gilbert still watched them. "So what's to be done with us?"

  It was almost like a signal. All the other Guardians and Keenan sighed and quit eating. They too turned their attention to the thin man sitting at the head of the table.

  Gilbert was seated with his hands crossed in his lap and he took a moment before answering. "I want you to be at your ease. The Master of the Forest wishes to talk with you, but no harm will come to you."

  "Are you sure?" Trestus asked. "I mean, what if this Master of yours decides that he doesn't particularly like us?"

  Smiling, Gilbert placed his hands on the table. He looked across the table at each of the Guardians and then Keenan. "Listen to me. If the Master does not like you, then he will take you the edge of the forest and tell you not to come back. No harm will befall you," he paused, "well, unless you did something foolish."

  "What exactly do you mean foolish?" Kara asked, the suspicion was obvious in her tone. She had been very quiet during their little trek through the woods and it was reassuring to hear her get a little of the old fire back.

  "If you were to try and kill one of us, or perhaps steal something." He grinned, although it looked rather sickly, "If that happened than I could not be held responsible."

  "Any idea why he wants to speak with us?" Derek asked.

  "He did not tell me." Gilbert answered, shaking his head.

  "That's not what I asked," Derek replied coolly. "Do you know why he wants to speak with us?"

  "Even if I did, it is not my place to tell you." Gilbert's smile had slipped and he looked a little less pleasant. "Please accept our hospitality for a week or so. You could use the rest while you wait. Once the Master has spoken with you, then you can be on your way."

  Derek didn't answer. He didn't like this at all, even despite Gilbert reassurances. For the time being, it seemed that the only thing they could do was wait. There might come a time when that would change, but in the mean time, he was looking forward to catching up on his rest.

  The sun was going down as Thomas approached the cliff. He had been searching farther to the south when word reached him that Prince Flaranthlas' horse had been found. He had rushed northward with all possible haste, but still the trip had taken nearly a day and a half.

  A small group of soldiers were gathered, waiting for him. They watched him approach uneasily. They didn't like him but he simply didn't care. Plain and simple, they were scared of him and they had good reason to be. The Church had sent him here to track thv he half-elven bastard for the very same reason that these men feared him so much.

  He stopped maybe five feet from the soldiers. There were three common soldiers and one man whose armor marked him as an officer. Thomas had seven men with him and he could hear them spreading out behind him, making a semicircle. He watched the soldiers, pulling aside his purple cloak to rest his hand on the hilt of his sword. "Well?" he asked after a moment.

  "My, my Lord." The officer stammered. "We tracked him to this spot, but then he seems to have disappeared. I have men searching to the north and south. He's out here somewhere and we'll find him." The officer was young but he already had several visible scars that betrayed his experience in defense of Telur.

  Thomas sighed, hating what he had to do. He motioned his hand and his men sprang forward. The soldiers were slow in realizing they were being attacked and only two of them managed to draw their swords. The fight was over in moments.

  Turning his back on the bloody mess that had just been four soldiers, Thomas rested his hand on the handle of his sword, and then he closed his eyes while he quietly cast a spell. Almost immediately, he turned, looking past the dead soldiers. To his eyes, there were red footprints across the rocks and stones. The footprints headed to a large fissure that ran up the side of the mountain.

  Thomas began forward, pausing by the dead soldiers. "I'm sorry," he said quietly and it was true. He hated to have to kill these men, but they couldn't be allowed to spread rumors about the kinds of things that he could do. His abilities were quietly condoned by the Church, all the while they were condemned publicly.

  Chapter 6

  Atock followed Dagan through the inn's doors and up the stairs. No one turned to look at them or seemed to even notice their passing, not even the little old man behind the front desk. Even though he knew it was Dagan's use of sorcery that seemed to make them invisible, it still made Atock uncomfortable. Something about it just didn't seem right. Perhaps it was just a warrior's distrust of anything supernatural.

  Dagan and Cassandra had initially entered the small inn and secured two rooms for them while Atock had seen to the wagon and horses. The old sorcerer had waited on him while Cassandra had disappeared upstairs.

  Reaching the second floor, they turned right and headed down the long hallway. "First two on the left are ours," Dagan said, motioning in the general direction of the closed doors.

  "And where are our friends?"

  "I believe they are farther down the hall."

  As if on cue, a door on the right side of the hall opened just a hair and a one eyeball peeped out. Then the door was yanked open and Heather's relieved face grinned at them from the doorway. She made a motioning gesture towards them, "Come on!".

  Atock stepped through the door into the small room. It was way too small for the number of people who were assembled here. Six people were gathered into the too small room, the only person missing was Enton. He barely had a moment to absorb that fact before Mikela hugged him hard and Aaron began wringing his hand. Their greetings were short lived though.

  "Where's Ento0">n?" Dagan asked, giving voice to the thought that was running through Atock's head. He looked slightly apprehensive.

  "Relax," Heather answered, moving over to the bed an
d sitting down.

  She looked rather tired, like the stress of being in charge was getting to her. It wasn't easy being in charge. Still though, he would have thought that the week of rest at this inn would have been good for her.

  "I want to know what happened." Heather said, her eyes trying to bore the information out of Atock. "Everything."

  Before he began, Atock glanced at Dagan. The old man nodded, "I've warded the room. No one will hear what's said here."

  Cassandra and Mikela moved quickly over to sit next to Heather on the edge of the bed. Dagan took the rickety looking chair and a somewhat grumpy looking Aaron sat on the floor with his back against the wall.

  Then Atock began telling the story. He leaned against the wall just to the right of the door as he relayed everything that had happened to them. Everything from having to leave Helum early, to their wanderings in the catacombs, to Philip's death. Both Mikela and Heather looked a little misty eyed at the news and Aaron just looked grim. Philip may not have been their best friend, but he had been a comrade.

  "Exactly how did he die?" Aaron pressed, interrupting Atock's story. "Who killed him?"

  Atock shook his head, "Not exactly sure. I was unconscious at the time, but Flare told me that Philip was killed by the arrival of Zalustus and his followers."

  "But how did you get back to Telur so quickly?" Heather asked, her forehead wrinkled in confusion.

  Atock shuddered at the very thought of their flight with the dragon. "When we passed through the valley of Ail-Dasharra, there was a dragon imprisoned there. Flare gave it a temporary release from its prison, if it would fly us to Telur."

  "How did he do that?" Mikela asked, looking horrified. "I mean, wouldn't that require a member of the Dragon Order to release the dragon?"

  Atock cocked his head to the right, "I thought Flare was able to do it because he's a descendant of King Osturlius."