Clay Warrior Stories Boxset 1

by J. Clifton Slater

  “The mountain quail are stirring,” Brianus whispered after softly creeping back to them.

  “What does that mean?” Ceyx asked.

  “Quail are lazy cowards. When small animals move, the birds sit and watch,” Brianus replied. “When something big moves through the mountains, the quail fly away. Up ahead, the quail are flying.”

  “So, what is it?” Alerio asked.

  “If I knew that,” Brianus bragged. “I’d be the greatest hunter, in all the mountains, in all the world.”

  He slung his backpack off and untied one of the three bows tied to it. After removing the leather cover, he bent the bow and strung the bow string.

  “Wait here,” he whispered before slipping away into the foliage on the side of the hill.

  Alerio and Ceyx stayed diligent. They divided the area and one scanned in one direction while the other watched the other way. An hour later there was a crash in the trees, breaking branches and snapping twigs. The sound grew closer. Finally, Brianus appeared dragging a large boar.

  “This is a problem,” announced Brianus.

  “Why?” asked Alerio.

  “Because we need to stay here for a day while we smoke and eat as much pork as we can stuff into our mouths,” the young hunter said with a smile.

  “That is a disaster,” Ceyx agreed. “a real shame.”

  The rest and the extra protein did wonders for Ceyx. While he still struggled over the next mountain range, he wasn’t a drag on Brianus and Alerio.

  ***

  A week later, Brianus pointed up at a steep ridge. They were in a saddle between higher peaks. The profile of the mountain dipped above them creating a passageway to the higher elevation.

  “The Golden Valley is up there and to the right,” he announced.

  “Aren’t you coming with us?” asked Alerio.

  “I’ve never been there,” admitted Brianus. “The children told me. When we arrived at this spot, three adults were waiting. They questioned me. Gave me supplies including two small jars of honey and sent me away. I stayed and watched the children scamper up the slope. If they can make it, you can as well. Goodbye, my friends.”

  The hunter spun and jogged into the tree line. In a few heartbeats, his form was swallowed by the dark green of the forest.

  Ceyx and Alerio turned and eyed the slope. It looked just like the hundreds of others they’d climbed over the last few weeks. Hopefully, this one would lead to the Golden Valley and a satisfactory settlement with the Dulce Pugno.

  Chapter 73 - Natural Defensive Position

  Ceyx and Alerio found flat ground at the top with a thin forest of hardy mountain pines. As directed, they turned right and with pine needles crunching under foot headed towards the valley.

  The ridge to their right climbed to the heavens and its broadening base forced them to angle towards the center of the flat land. Soon they walked in a mountain meadow with steep slopes rising on both sides. After a quarter of a mile of angling further to the left, they stepped from the pines and stopped next to a fast-moving stream.

  On the other side of the creek, an over grown wagon trail meandered through the center of the dale. They hopped from rock to rock to cross the stream.

  “Signs of human passage,” Ceyx announced as he examined the wagon wheel marks. “Not much traffic but enough ruts to show years of usage.”

  “Any recently?” Alerio inquired.

  “If you mean a two wheeled cart hauling a fat, ugly rebel?” Ceyx stated. “No, I believe young Brianus was as good as his word. We’re ahead of Speckled Pheasant.”

  “Then let’s find out what’s ahead of us,” suggested Alerio.

  Ceyx used the staff to straighten up. Alerio helped him adjust his pack and they stepped off heading deeper into the valley.

  “This is incredible,” explained Ceyx. “In the legend, the escaping families fought snow and freezing weather to pass through this beautiful place. It doesn’t seem so terrifying now.”

  “Look up at the high peaks towering over the ridges,” Alerio suggested. “Even in summer, they’re snowcapped. In winter, I expect the wind would blow feet of snow up this valley. It wouldn’t be a pleasant place after a blizzard.”

  “Still, it’s beautiful,” insisted Ceyx. “I wonder how far it is to the Golden Valley.”

  “More importantly,” Alerio pondered. “How far to the valley’s defenses?”

  They were just one hundred paces into the march when they discovered the answer to Alerio’s question.

  It started with being tracked. A bush ruffling, a twig snapping, and the flash of a small body racing between clumps of trees. Soon, the signs of being stalked vanished. Yet, the feeling of being watched was there and the rising hairs on the backs of the Legionaries’ necks continued to warn them.

  The uneasy silence followed them as they marched. Alerio held up a hand.

  “We are being watched,” he announced.

  “You are a bright lad,” teased Ceyx. “What was your first clue? The little lads running between trees or the lack of birds singing?”

  “Let’s invite them in for a meal and a conversation,” suggested Alerio.

  “Or to get our throats cut by assassins,” Ceyx commented as he stepped off the trail and chose a spot next to the stream. “Here is as good a place to die as any.”

  While the Legionary had been joking, the camp site was carefully selected. Far across the valley, on the other side of the wagon trail, laid the tree line. Only low growth occupied the ground between the camp and those trees. An enemy would be visible while crossing the field.

  On the backside of the camp site, anyone attacking from across the stream would need to wade through icy mountain water to reach the camp. The trees on the other side of the mountain stream grew farther back, probably from years of spring flooding that washed away any young trees trying to take root in the flood plain.

  The final reason for the camp site was a large boulder resting on the edge of the stream. About shoulder high, it afforded a small defensive position against arrows. It also provided a wind break for the three campfires.

  At each campfire, Ceyx skewed hunks of boar with sticks. Alerio tented green tree limbs to hold the meat over the flame. Soon, their area of the valley began to fill with the aroma of roasting pork.

  “Why do you think our stalkers will be hungry?” Ceyx asked as he leaned on the staff and the boulder to ease his way to the ground.

  “Because I’m hungry,” replied Alerio. “And I couldn’t smell smoke in the air. If the watchers patrol far out from the Golden Valley, they, like us, are eating jerky. Let’s see if they’ll come out for a hot meal.”

  Two of the campfires blazed and smoked on either side of the boulder. Ceyx and Alerio were sitting at the center fire. They could see around the sides of the boulder and use it for cover if attacked.

  A man dressed in green and brown leathers came from the tree line across the wagon trail. His gait was smooth, a big hunting bow rested in his hand with a quiver of arrows strapped tightly to his hip and thigh. This was the tell. A hunter didn’t care if his quiver moved as he would be stationary when going for a shot. A warrior required all of his equipment to be tightly strapped to his body to prevent snagging while he changed positions in battle.

  “I assume this is an invitation?” the man stated as he circled around to one of the campfires.

  He approached from the far side keeping the fire between him and the Legionaries. At the fire, he squatted and peeled off a piece of pork. The hot meat hovered in the air and he waited expectantly.

  Alerio, seeing the delay, reach to his roasting pork and peeled a section. He shoved it into his mouth and began chewing.

  “Yes, the meat is an invitation,” Ceyx replied as he also took a piece.

  “You’re going the wrong way,” the man said as he nibbled. “While I appreciate the hot meal. There’s nothing up ahead for you.”

  “We’re going to the Golden Valley,” announced Alerio. “I have b
usiness with the Dulce Pugno.”

  The hunter ceased chewing and stated, “They don’t take recruits.”

  “I didn’t think they did,” agreed Alerio. “Then again, they want their Nocte Apibus back.”

  “And what would you know about the Night Bees?” inquired the man.

  “I have them,” Alerio admitted. “Well, not on me. They’re coming by caravan.”

  “Yes, the cart with the fat man, four swordsmen, and six archers,” the man reported. “They’re about a day’s travel from here. So, we shouldn’t kill them?”

  “You can kill all of them except for the fat man,” Alerio offered. “I need him and the cart when I speak with the Sweet Fist.”

  “What makes you think they would want to speak with you?” the man asked. Then he held out a palm to stop Alerio from answering.

  He waved an arm and twelve men and lads emerged from the trees. Some hopped rocks to cross the stream while the rest moved from the wagon trail side.

  “I’d like my fellow Watchers and their apprentices to hear this,” the man said.

  As the Watchers gathered around the fires and cut slices from the pork, the Legionaries got their first look at the unit’s make up. For every adult male, there was a teen and a young child of about ten years old.

  “Please. Tell us why the Dulce Pugno want to speak with you,” the man ordered. “If your story is good, maybe we’ll let you return from where you came. If not, there are many graves in this valley.”

  Ceyx looked around at the mountain splendor before saying to Alerio, “Yup, it’s a good place to die.”

  “No one is dying today,” Alerio assured him. “At least not us.”

  “You speak bravely for a man on restricted land in a dale that’s hard to find,” the Watcher stated. “Tell us why you are here.”

  “There are four Nocte Apibus missing,” Alerio informed them as he stood. He unsheathed his gladius and tossed it to the other side of the fire. Next, he pulled his knife and it joined the sword. “I know there are four assassins dead and four missing Night Bees. I know this because I killed them.”

  Arrows were notched and bows aimed at Alerio.

  “They were our friends and family,” the Watcher explained. “Why should you live?”

  “You keep threatening death,” challenged Alerio. “There are three reasons to stay your hand. One, the Dulce Pugno wants retribution. I guess from your hesitation and questions; you are not with the organization. I am here to plead my case. Number two, the legend is that the man possessing a Nocte Apis must return it to the Golden Valley himself. I have four Night Bees. Number three, the man must face a trial to see if he lives or dies. Unless you consider my skill at roasting meat a test, I have yet to be properly tested.”

  He sat down and plucked a hunk of pork from the skew.

  “Shoot or eat,” Alerio ordered while holding out the food for people at both campfires to see. “I choose eating.”

  The Watcher raised a hand and indicated for the bowmen to lower their weapons.

  “You require the fat man to live?” the man asked Alerio.

  “Yes. The fat man and the cart must accompany me to see the Dulce Pugno,” the Legionary replied.

  “While we eat tell us how you killed four apprentices of the Sweet Fist,” the Watcher suggested.

  Everyone stopped eating and leaned forward. Apparently, they were in awe of the Dulce Pugno and wanted to hear how he had managed to kill four of the assassins.

  “You say they were apprentices,” Alerio responded. “That explains why they came at me like a pack of vicious dogs. No tact, just a blind attack. It helps that I am a better swordsman than most. Still, whoever trained them is a poor instructor. Over confidence and rash tactics is why they died.”

  “You just saved me from a long lecture,” the Watcher leader exclaimed. “The fat man and the cart will be brought to you. Do not move from this camp. Do not, unless you seek death.”

  The Watcher and his unit stood and dispersed. Soon, they had all faded into the surrounding forest.

  “That went better than I expected,” Ceyx said laying back against the boulder. “You know Alerio, one of these days your mouth will get you into real trouble. I thought it was today. And, we were going to die.”

  “Not today,” stated Alerio as he also leaned back against the hard granite stone. “Not today.”

  Chapter 74 - Entrance to the Golden Valley

  Two days later, they saw a pleasing sight. Or, a sad sight if you were Speckled Pheasant. The rebel Captain walked beside the mule as five little lads herded them along the trail. Each little Watcher had an arrow laying across their bow and seemed prepared to use it.

  The revolutionary looked road weary and foot sore. As he stumbled up to the Legionaries, he exploded.

  “I am going to kill you both slowly,” he bellowed. “I’ll skin the flesh…”

  Shouting him down, Ceyx announced, “We’re moving. Try to keep up.”

  Alerio and Ceyx marched off. When Speckled Pheasant hesitated, one of the little Watchers poked him with an arrow. The rebel jerked hard on the lead and he and the mule followed.

  A few miles later, they arrived at a dam. Behind it, a lake occupied half the gorge. While the main trail tracked around the earthen dam and deeper into the narrowing dale, the little Watchers guided them off the path.

  The new course took them over a wooden bridge spanning the stream Alerio and Ceyx had camped beside. At the far end of the bridge, they entered a village of craftsmen. A wheelwright’s hut and work area strewn with partially constructed wheels was the first. Next, a blacksmith’s forge glowed and the ringing of a hammer on an anvil echoed over the water. After these trade areas, they passed a cooper shaving slats for barrels and a carpenter’s stand where boards were being fitted together. Between the carpenter’s yard and a work area with a potter’s wheel and kiln, the little Watchers pointed to an empty hut.

  “Finally. I can’t go on,” exclaimed Speckled Pheasant spotting a bench at the hut.

  He dropped the mule’s line and staggered to the bench and plopped down.

  Alerio took the opportunity to inspect the cart. After checking a pouch for the Nocte Apibus, he lifted it out and dropped its strap over his shoulder. Then, he lifted out the dual gladius rig, slung it onto his back, and tied it down.

  “Think we’ll need our armor?” Ceyx asked as he reached into the cart.

  “Him, not you,” the Watcher in the green and brown leathers stated. The man had appeared out of the twilight like an apparition. “Him and him,” he repeated while pointing to Alerio and Speckled Pheasant. Then he pointed at Ceyx. “Not you.”

  “Hold on,” complained the Legionary. “If Alerio is going, so am I.”

  “He will be tested,” the Watcher explained. “You will not. So, stay and wait, or die. Please make a choice. We’ll gladly fulfill your request.”

  Up and down the row of huts, all the craftsmen and their assistants had exchanged their tools for bows. The bows had notched arrows resting on the strings and they were all aimed at Ceyx.

  “I’m sure you’ll be comfortable here,” suggested Alerio. “I bet they’ll feed you. Maybe they’ll have barley mush and goat jerky.”

  “I’d rather die,” Ceyx replied before realizing what he said. “No, I’ll stay. Here’s me staying.”

  The Legionary stepped purposely to the bench, used his walking staff to shove the Captain over, and sat down.

  The sunlight faded as the sun dipped below the high mountain peaks. Darkness descended and cooking fires were lit. As the aroma of boiling stew drifted over the craftsmen’s village, the Watcher walked to Alerio and Speckled Pheasant.

  “You will follow the path to the Golden Valley,” the Watcher advised while pointing to the bridge.

  Chapter 75 - The Golden Valley

  Alerio and Speckled Pheasant marched stiffly back over the bridge. Neither man spoke. The mistrust and dislike between them was almost a physical presence.


  At the path where the Watchers had them veer off towards the bridge, they turned toward the Golden Valley. A few yards away, torches lined the trail. Along with the sunlight, the warmth of the day vanished. They shivered in the cold of the mountain night.

  Alerio and Speckled Pheasant followed the torches until they reached a wooden wall. A doublewide gate opened and they stepped through.

  The chill vanished. Almost as if the warmth of the sun had reappeared, the air temperature rose to a comfortable level. In front of them, torch lined paths meandered through the dark. Bright spots of light identified widely spaced huts. Some huts near the gate were opened sided, as if work areas, while other huts had doorways.

  Three men stood waiting for them inside the gate.

  “Captain. Welcome to the Golden Valley,” one of the men said pleasantly. “Please come this way. We have refreshments and a place for you to rest after your long journey.”

  As the rebel began to follow the pleasant man, he turned and flashed an evil grin at Alerio.

  “Legionary. Come with us,” another of the men ordered.

  He motioned and stepped off. Alerio followed. The last man fell in behind them.

  They wandered along one of the lighted paths. Alerio marveled at the well laid black stones under foot and realized the warmth he felt radiated from the ground. The path snaked around but, generally favored one side. Just when he thought they would have to climb the mountain to go farther, the path made a sharp turn. They arrived at an entrance set in the side of the hill.

  Inside, Alerio looked around and marveled at a large cavern. It was dome like with several small round tunnels leading off into darkness. Some openings were overhead, others head and shoulder high, and a few sat at floor level. His escorts indicated one at floor level. He and the men marched to the back of the dome.

  The tunnel ran straight before it turned and the floor angled upward. A short while later, it intersected with other passageways. Here, the walls changed from smooth to showing signs of pick and ax work. Some distance into the warren, his guards stopped and indicated an opening.