Valley of the Ancients: Book Three of the Restoration Series (7 page)

Flare's forehead creased in confusion, it was not exactly the outburst that he had expected. It appeared that Abner was used to strange half elf's telling him that they were the most dreaded person ever prophesied about. "Is that all you have to say?" he asked. "I mean I expected a slightly different reaction."

Abner smiled. "I would imagine so. Probably thought we would run screaming down the mountain, huh?"

This was most definitely not the reaction Flare expected. "You don't seem too troubled."

Abner shook his head, "No, actually I have been waiting my whole life for this day." If anything, his grin got bigger.

It took a moment for the words to sink in and for a moment Flare was sure that he had misheard. "What? What are you saying?"

Abner motioned in Sadah's general direction. "When I was younger than her, my master fell into a trance and he said something profound. He said that I would see the one who would one day restore the Dragon Order."

"And you're not bothered by that?"

Moving slowly, Abner walked over and sat down next to Sadah, his back to the small fire. "I was terrified, until that is, my master explained some things to me." He crossed his hands, setting them in his lap, "You see, not everyone believes the Church of Adel's story that you are the destroyer of the world."

Flare sheathed his sword and walked over to the fire, being careful to stay out of reach of Abner's staff. Sitting down on the far side of the fire, he regarded the other two as they turned around to face him. "You don't believe Kelcer's prophecy?" he asked. He had never met anyone before who hadn't believed in the prophecy. Some might believe that it was misrepresented, or misunderstood, but they still believed in the prophecy itself.

"We do believe in Kelcer, but we do not accept the Church's interpretation. We believe that it is a prophecy of a man with incredible power, a man who has two choices; be the savior of the world, or the destroyer of it."

Flare's forehead wrinkled in confusion, "I have never heard that interpretation before."

"Nor would you. In some places, you can be executed for suggesting such a thing. Not many people will risk it."

"But you do. Why?" Flare asked.

"I am a priest, but not of the Church of Adel," Abner stated quietly.

That sounded ominous. "Then whose priest are you?"

"I am a priest that recognizes and respects all the gods. Adel, Silverti, even Thal."

"You worship Thal?" Flare blurted out, half rising from his seated position. Thal was the god of the goblins, trolls, and those of that ilk. His worship usually consisted of bloody sacrifices and such.

Abner held his hands up in front of him, "I do not worship him, but I give him the respect that is his due."

"What respect is he due?" Flare demanded, his tone angry and loud. "It seems tinco me that everything that is evil in this world came from him."

"Then perhaps that is why the Father God created him."

Flare knelt there for a moment, trying to make sense of those words. He too believed that the gods they worshiped were made by a Father God. An older god who created the other gods to create life for the world, "Why would Thal be created to bring murder and mayhem into the world?"

Smiling, Abner leaned closer to the fire, the orange coals lighting up his face. "Why would an omnipotent god create a being such as Thal? If he is omnipotent then he has to know what Thal will do." Seeing the confusion on Flare's face, Abner sat back away from the fire. "I must apologize. I see that my words have bothered you."

Flare also sat back down but he didn't respond. The words made sense but they went against everything he had ever believed. He had always believed that the Father God had withdrawn in disgust at the way Thal had acted. What if that wasn't true? What is Thal had done the very things that he had been created to do?

"I'm impressed."

Abner's words intruded on Flare's thoughts and he raised his eyes from the fire to find Abner and Sadah watching him intently. "What?"

Abner leaned close, "I said that I am impressed. Most will not even consider the things that I have just said, but a precious few do. I can see that it troubles you, and that troubling is a sign that you are considering these things."

Flare shrugged, too tired to grapple with the confusing thoughts. "So? What if you're right?"

"Well," Abner said after a moment, "it would mean that you have a choice, a choice to not be that evil person that Kelcer describes so vividly."

That was a positive thought to Flare's way of thinking. "All right, but what if you're wrong?"

Abner shrugged, "To a person who believes that the gods are in control of things, there is no reason to worry."

Flare's only answer was a grunt. He didn't find it so easy not to worry.

The silence stretched out between them. It felt like the temperature was dropping and Flare had to resist the urge to stoke the fire.

Finally, Abner broke the silence. "Flare, where are you headed?"

Waving his hand absently behind him, Flare answered, "Over the mountains, if I can find a way."

"And why that way?"

Sighing, Flare rubbed his eyes. He was so exhausted and his flight was weighing on him. "It seemed the least likely way for me to go, so that's the way I fled. With guards chasing me, I was hoping that the majority of them would go south or northeast."

"Is that the only reason?" Abner pressed.

Something in the way Abner asked the question made Flare frown. "Why? What are you getting at?"

Sadah chuckled. It was the first sound she had made in a long while. "You really are a fool."

"Sadah!" Abner barked, causing the girl to jump. "Leave us.&dthquot He said, pointing off into the darkness. "Go gather firewood for the morning."

That last statement almost caused Flare to jump like the girl had, he hadn't thought they would be staying long, surely not spending the night. "Morning," he repeated. "Are you planning on staying?"

Flare must have not done a very good job of keeping the dismay out of his voice because Abner smiled again. He seemed to be one of those people that had the infuriating habit of always being happy. "We will stay, assuming that you do not mind."

Forcing himself to smile, Flare spread his hands around the small campsite. "You are more than welcome, but I do fear for your safety if the Telurian soldiers were to find me with you in my presence. It probably would end very painfully for you."

"We would be glad to stay," Abner answered, apparently not hearing Flare's dire warning. The old man's face grew more serious, the lines in his face becoming more pronounced. "Why don't you get some rest? You look dead tired."

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."