Deltora Quest #1: The Forests of Silence (6 page)

S
tunned by what he had just heard, Lief stared at his father. It was as if he were seeing him with new eyes. “
You
once lived in the palace?
You
were the king’s friend? You — I cannot believe this! I will
not
believe it!”

His father smiled grimly. “You must believe it, my son.” His fists clenched. “Why else do you think we have lived so quietly all these years, tamely obeying every order given to us, never rebelling? Many, many times I have been tempted to do otherwise. But I knew that we had to avoid drawing the enemy’s attention to us.”

“But — but why have you never told me before?” Lief stammered.

“We thought it best to keep silent until now, Lief.” It was his mother who had spoken. She stood by the fire looking at him gravely.

“It was so important, you see, that no word reached the ears of the Shadow Lord,” she went on. “And until you were ten your father believed that he himself would be the one who would go to seek the gems of Deltora, when the time came. But then —”

She broke off, glancing at her husband sitting in his armchair, his injured leg stuck stiffly out in front of him.

He smiled grimly. “Then the tree fell, and I had to accept that this could not be,” he finished for her. “I can still work in the forge — enough to earn our bread — but I cannot travel. And so, Lief, the task is left to you. If you are willing.”

Lief’s head was spinning. So much that he had believed had been overturned in one short hour.

“The king was not killed after all,” he mumbled, trying to take it in. “He escaped, with the queen. But why did the Shadow Lord not find them?”

“When we reached the forge the king and queen made themselves look like ordinary working people,” his father said. “In haste we discussed the plan for escape while outside the wind howled and the darkness of the Shadow Lord deepened over the land. And then we parted.”

His face was furrowed with grief and memory. “We knew that we might never meet again. Endon had realized by then that by his foolishness and blindness the people’s last trust in him had been destroyed. The
Belt would never again shine for him. All our hopes rested with his unborn child.”

“But — how do you know that the child was born safely and is still alive, Father?” Lief blurted out.

His father heaved himself to his feet. He took off the old brown belt that he always wore at his work. It was strong and heavy, made of two lengths of leather stitched together. He cut the stitching at one end with his knife and pulled out what was hidden inside.

Lief caught his breath. Sliding from the leather tube was a fine steel chain linking seven steel medallions. Even plain and without ornament, it was still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

He longed to touch it. Eagerly he held out his hands.

“I mended it, making it ready to receive the gems once more, before I hid it away,” his father said, handing it to him. “But so closely is it bound to the blood of Adin that it would have crumbled into pieces if the heir was no more. As you see, it is still whole. So we can be sure that the heir lives.”

In wonder, Lief gazed at the marvelous thing in his hands — the dream Belt made by the great Adin himself. How many times had he read of it in
The Belt of Deltora
, the small, pale blue book his father had given him to study? He could hardly believe that he was actually holding it.

“If you agree to go on the quest, my son, you must
put the Belt on and never let it out of your sight until it is complete,” he heard his mother say. “Are you willing? Think carefully before you answer.”

But Lief had already made his decision. He looked up at his waiting parents, his eyes sparkling.

“I am willing,” he said firmly. Without hesitation he clasped the Belt around his waist, under his shirt. It felt cool against his skin. “Where must I go to find the gems?” he asked.

His father, suddenly drawn and pale, sat down again and stared at the fire. “Preparing for this moment we have listened to many travelers’ tales,” he said at last. “I will tell you what we know. Prandine said that the gems were scattered, hidden in places no one would dare to find them.”

“That means, I suppose, that they lie in places people would be afraid to go,” Lief said.

“So I fear.” His father picked up a parchment from the table beside his chair and began slowly to unfold it. “Seven Ak-Baba were flying together around the palace tower on the day the gems were taken,” he went on. “They separated and flew off in different directions. We believe that each was carrying one of the gems, and each was going to one particular place to hide it. See here. I have drawn a map.”

His heart beating like a drum in his chest, Lief leaned over to look as his father pointed out one name after the other.

“The Lake of Tears,” Lief read. “City of the Rats. The Shifting Sands. Dread Mountain. The Maze of the Beast. The Valley of the Lost. The Forests of Silence …” His voice faltered. The very names filled him with fear, particularly the last.

The terrible tales he had heard of the Forests not far to the east of Del flooded Lief’s mind, and for a moment the map blurred before his eyes.

“Over the years, different travelers have told of seeing a lone Ak-Baba hovering above one or another of these seven places on the day the Shadow Lord came,” his father was saying. “They are where you must search for the gems, we are sure of it. Little is known of them, but all of them have evil reputations. The task will be long and perilous, Lief. Are you still willing?”

Lief’s mouth felt dry. He swallowed, and nodded.

“He is so young!” his mother burst out. She bent her head and hid it in her hands. “Oh, I cannot bear it!”

Lief spun around to her and threw his arm around her neck. “I
want
to go, Mother!” he exclaimed. “Do not weep for me.”

“You do not know what you are promising!” she cried.

“Perhaps I do not,” Lief admitted. “But I know that I would do anything — anything in my power — to rid our land of the Shadow Lord.”

He turned from her to look back at his father. “Where
is the heir?” he demanded excitedly. “That, at least, you know for certain, Father, for you suggested the hiding place.”

“Perhaps I did,” his father said quietly. “But I must not endanger our cause by telling you of it. The heir is powerless without the Belt, and must remain in deepest hiding until it is complete. You are young and impatient, Lief, and the road ahead of you is hard. You might give way to temptation and seek out the heir before your quest is done. I cannot risk that.”

Lief opened his mouth to argue, but his father held up his hand, shaking his head. “When the gems are all in place the Belt will lead you to the heir, my son,” he said firmly. “You must wait until then.”

He half smiled as Lief sighed with frustration. Then he bent down and drew something from under his chair.

“Perhaps this will cheer you,” he said. “It is my birthday gift to you.”

Lief stared at the slender, shining sword in his father’s hand. Never had he expected to own such a blade.

“I made it on our own forge,” his father said, giving the sword to him. “It is the finest work I have ever done. Care for it well, and it will care for you.”

As Lief nodded, spluttering his thanks, he be came aware that his mother, too, was holding out a gift. It was a finely woven cloak — soft, light, and warm. Its color seemed to change as it moved so that it was hard to tell
if it was brown, green, or grey. Somewhere between all three, Lief decided at last. Like river-water in autumn.

“This, too, will care for you, wherever you may go,” his mother whispered, pressing the cloak into his hands and kissing him. “The fabric is — special. I used every art I knew in its making, and wove much love and many memories into it, as well as strength and warmth.”

Her husband stood up and put his arm around her. She leaned against him lovingly, but tears shone in her eyes.

Lief looked at them both. “You never doubted that I would agree to go on this quest,” he said quietly.

“We knew you too well to doubt it,” his mother answered, trying to smile. “I was sure, as well, that you would want to start at once. Food and water for the first few days of your journey are already packed and waiting. You can leave within the hour, if you wish.”

“Tonight?” gasped Lief. His stomach turned over. He had not thought it would be so soon. And yet almost immediately he realized that his mother was right. Now that the decision had been made, he wanted nothing more than to begin.

“There is one thing more,” his father said, limping to the door. “You will not be alone on your quest. You will have a companion.”

Lief’s jaw dropped. Were the surprises of this night never to end?

“Who —?” he began.

“A good friend. The one man we know we can trust,” his father answered gruffly. He swung the door open.

And, to Lief’s horror, into the room shuffled Barda, the beggar.

S
o, Lief,” Barda mumbled. “Are you not pleased with your companion?”

Lief could only stand gaping at him.

“Do not tease him, Barda.” Smiling, Lief’s mother moved to her son’s side and gently touched his shoulder. “How could Lief know you are other than you appear to be? Explain yourself!”

Barda pulled off the ragged cloak he wore, letting it fall to the floor at his feet. Underneath the cloak his garments were rough, but clean. He straightened his shoulders, pushed back his tousled hair from his face, tightened his jaw, and lifted his head. Suddenly he looked completely different — tall, strong, and many years younger.

“I also lived in the palace, when your father and King Endon were young, Lief,” he said, in quite a
different voice. “I was the grown son of their nursemaid, Min, but they did not know me, or I them. While they were at their lessons I was already in training as a palace guard.”

“But — but all my life you have lived outside the forge,” Lief stammered.

Barda’s face darkened. “I left the palace on the night my mother was killed. I knew that I would suffer the same fate if I stayed. My guard’s uniform helped me to trick my way through the gates, and I came here.”

Lief swallowed. “Why here?”

“Fate guided me, I believe, as it had guided Jarred before me,” Barda answered quietly. “It was deepest night. The cottage was in darkness. I hid myself in the forge and slept. When at last I stirred, many hours later, it was day, though it did not seem so. A terrible wind was howling. Only half awake, I stumbled outside and saw four strangers by the gate. I know now that they were Jarred and Anna hurrying the king and queen away, but then I knew nothing.”

He glanced at Lief’s father. “Jarred was rather startled to see a palace guard lurching towards him,” he added dryly. “He greeted me with a blow that put me back to sleep for quite some time.”

Lief shook his head, hardly able to believe that his gentle father would strike anyone.

“When I woke again I found that Jarred and Anna no longer feared me,” Barda went on. “While I was unconscious I had rambled aloud of my grief and fear, so they knew who I was and well understood the danger that threatened me. They knew I was a friend.”

“So we did,” murmured Lief’s mother. She turned to Lief. “We told Barda who our visitors had been. We asked for his help in seeking the lost gems of Deltora when the time came.”

Barda frowned grimly. “I agreed willingly. I had already decided that I would do anything to overthrow the Shadow Lord, and avenge my mother’s death.”

“It — it is incredible!” Lief spluttered. “All this time you …”

Barda shrugged. “All this time I have been safe, hidden in my beggar’s disguise. Jarred and Anna have given me food and shelter, and helped me to play my part without too much suffering. In return, I have watched over you since you were ten years old —”

“Watched over me?” Lief gasped.

“Oh, yes,” drawled Barda. “After your father was injured I said that I would go alone on the quest for the gems, when the time came. But Jarred and Anna — felt differently. They believed that you should be given the chance to fulfil your father’s pledge.”

He glanced at Lief’s parents as he spoke. They remained expressionless, but it was clear to Lief that there had been many arguments on this subject in the past. Barda would plainly have preferred to travel alone.

He thinks that I will be a burden to him, Lief thought angrily. But before he could say anything, Barda went on.

“I agreed to your company, on the condition that you be allowed to sharpen your wits and learn of life by roaming free in the city. I believed that this was as important as your book-learning and your sword-play in fitting you for the time ahead. But of course you had to be protected from real harm, without your knowledge.”

His lips twitched into a smile. “It has not been easy, young Lief, keeping you out of trouble. And this reminds me. You have my rope, I believe?” He held out his hand.

Not daring to look at his parents, Lief passed over the coil of rope he had thrown down in a corner. His face had grown hot as he remembered how he had prided himself on his many lucky escapes over the years, and boasted of them to his friends. So they had not been a matter of luck, or skill. Barda had been his bodyguard all along.

He looked down at the floor, his stomach churning with furious shame. What a fool he must think me! he raged silently. This — this
child
he had to mind like a nurse! How he must have laughed at me!

He became aware that Barda was speaking again, and forced himself to look up.

“My beggar’s rags have been useful in other ways,” the man was saying, calmly fastening the rope to his belt. “Grey Guards talk freely to one another in front of me. Why should they care what a half-wit beggar hears?”

“It is because of news Barda has gathered in the past year, Lief, that we know it is time to make our move,” Lief’s father added, eyeing his son’s grim face anxiously. “Hungry for further conquest, the Shadow Lord has at last turned his eyes away from us, to lands across the sea. Warships are being launched from our coast.”

“There are still many Grey Guards in the city, but few now patrol the countryside, it seems,” Barda added. “They have left it to the bands of robbers and to the other horrors that now run wild there. There have always been terrors and evil beings in Deltora, but once they were balanced by the good. With the coming of the Shadow Lord, the balance ended. Evil has become much more powerful.”

A chill ran through Lief, quenching his anger. But Barda’s eyes were upon him, and he would rather have died than show his fear. He snatched up the map. “Have you decided on our route?” he asked abruptly.

His father seemed about to speak, but Barda answered first, pointing to a spot on the map with a
blunt finger. “I believe we should move east, directly to the Forests of Silence.”

Three gasps of shock sounded in the small room.

Lief’s father cleared his throat. “We had decided that the Forests should be your final ordeal, not your first, Barda,” he said huskily.

Barda shrugged. “I heard something today that changed my mind. The Grey Guards have always feared the Forests, as we have. But now, it seems, no Guard will even approach them, because of the losses they have suffered. The roads around them are completely clear — of Guards, at least.”

Stiff with shock, Lief stared at the map with glazed eyes. To face the Forests of Silence, that place of childhood nightmare, at some time in the future was one thing. To face it so soon, in a matter of days, was another.

“What think you, Lief?” he heard Barda say.

His voice was casual, but Lief was sure that the question was a test. He wet his lips and looked up from the map, meeting the tall man’s gaze steadily. “Your plan seems to me a good one, Barda,” he said. “With no Guards to trouble us, we will make good time. And if we can find one gem quickly, it will give us good heart to go on.”

Barda’s eyes flickered. I was right, thought Lief. He thought I would refuse to go with him. He thought to be rid of me. Well, he was wrong.

“So, Jarred?” Barda asked gruffly.

The blacksmith bowed his head. “It seems fate has taken a hand to alter my plans,” he murmured. “I must bow to it. Do as you will. Our thoughts and hopes go with you.”