Valley of the Ancients: Book Three of the Restoration Series (33 page)

BOOK: Valley of the Ancients: Book Three of the Restoration Series
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"So you think he wants to be the one to restore the Order?" Dagan asked, still looking puzzled.

The King shrugged. "From what you told me, he is much more the monster than your friend Flare." The king grinned again, "And Zalustus has shown an interest in the Kelcer signs. He attacked Mul-Dune, was there when Flaranthlas retrieved Ossendar, and now we suspect that one of his men stole the helmet of Ashteroth."

Heather followed the King's logic and it sort of made sense to her. Could Zalustus be the monster that Kelcer had seen?

"The Kelcer prophecy has been in my family for many generations," the King said after a brief moment of silence, "and my family has spent many years studying it. I would like to tell you a theory of my grandfather's. I've never given it a whole lot of thought, probably because the old man was a little out of his mind, but it might just be pertinent." He paused to take a deep breath, "You see, my grandfather struggled to understand all the apparent contradictions of the prophecy."

Heather snorted. The King's grandfather wasn't the only one who struggled with the prophecy. Generations had fought those same battles in the two millennia since it was written.

"My grandfather thought that perhaps some of the contradictions could be explained by the prophecy being about two men. One good and one bad. The two men struggling to restore the Order, with the fate of the world in the balance."

"I've never heard of anyone putting a theory like that out for debate." Dagan said.

"Well of course not." The King responded a little huffily. "It would have been madness to do so. Wouldn't it? The Church would have destroyed anyone saying that or any kingdom that allowed such talk to flourish." The King shrugged, "We kept grandfather put away."

"So you're saying that you think Flare is the good one and Zalustus is the bad one, and they're both trying to restore the Order?" Heather asked, trying to make sense out of the old man's story. It was unlike any theory that she had ever heard and it went against all the belief and teaching on Kelcer.

"I'm not saying any such thing. I'm actually just telling you a theory which might explain all the difficulties."

"For nearly a hundred years after the prophecy was written, it was not viewed in the same way as it is now." Dagan said. "I've not heard a theory like King Stennis's but there wasn't the fear associated with Kelcer like there is today."

The King studied Dagan for several moments, "You know a lot about history. How is it you know so much about Kelcer without ever having seen it in the original form?"

Dagan winced. He had said too much, but it probably didn't matter much now. "When I was in Telur, I was part of a secretive group of people. A group that was not scared witless by Kelcer. Many of us believed that the Church had done a great disservice by twisting the prophecy into what it is today."

"Are you believing this?" Heather asked of Dagan.

Dagan hesitated. "I believe that our understanding of the prophecy is wrong and that the real meaning is still to be determined. The King's theory is as good as any and actually better than the Church's."

Don't let Kara hear you say that,
Heather thought. She turned her attention to the King. "So what does that mean for us?"

"It's rather a tricky question," the King said. "Both the Church and the kingdom of Telur are looking for you and I do not want to anger either one of them. But, there's also the Kelcer prophecy and the fate of the world just might hinge on my decision."

"So what is your decision?" Heather asked again, trying not to let her grumpiness show through.

"I think what you're doing is important, but I can't just let you go. Word would get out about that."

Heather took a deep breath and asked for a third time, "So what's to become of us?"

"I have decided," the King said quietly, "that you are going to escape."

Heather's forehead wrinkled in confusion and the first thought that came to mind was,
trap,
but that didn't make any sense. They were already captured.

The King sensed her confusion. "Agminion is one of the very few that I trust completely. He will see that you get out of the city tonight and help you get out of my kingdom."

"Won't this cause problems for your kingdom?" Dagan asked. "I mean won't Telur or the Church realize that this was a bit too easy?"

"It will not be that easy," the King replied, "and Agminion will have to go with you to Saprasia.mbla me"

Heather opened her mouth to protest and closed it without a word. If they could get out of here, then this sorcerer was welcome to come along. They could decide later if he was welcome to come the whole way or not. Another thought occurred to her and she spoke quickly, "I don't think we'll be up for riding today." She looked around. Mikela was sitting on the edge of her bed listening intently, but she still looked like she might be sick. Cassandra also looked sickly, but she was still laying down. None of the men had moved much but their groans were increasing in frequency.

"Do not worry," the King answered, "just be ready. Agminion will guide you." With that, the King stood up and moved towards the door. He stopped and looked back. "Once this is all over, I had better not catch any of you in my kingdom again." Then he turned and walked out the door.

Agminion glanced at Heather as he followed the King through the doorway.

 

 

Chapter 24

 

Flare came up through the pool of water and gasped. The pain in his head was nearly unbearable. The pain was like the worst kind of headache, beginning in his eyes and rising up and back over his head. He lost his footing and fell back into the pool, only to emerge a moment later coughing and spitting. He grabbed the side of the pool and held on, hoping that the pain would subside.

"The first time is always the worst."

Flare forced his eyes open and looked up over the pool edge. Pellum stood there, just as he had before Flare went to Sha'al. Had that been moments ago or decades? Frowning, he tried to decide how long it had been. He believed and knew that he had just entered the pool moments ago, but he also had memories of decades of training with Gregeggor. He tried to reconcile the differing memories but that only seemed to make his head hurt more.

"Come on, out of the pool." Pellum said from where he looked down on Flare. He did not offer to help him up though.

Flare pushed upwards on the bottom of the pool and flopped his chest on the ground around the pool. He then rolled over onto his back, which pulled most of his body from the water, leaving only his left foot bobbing in the water. That little exertion caused the pain in his head to spike and rolled onto his side and heaved, empting his stomach of his breakfast and a lot of water. After a moment it stopped and the pain subsided.

"If that's what is going to happen every time, then I'm never going back." Flare said when he managed to find his voice.

Pellum knelt down beside Flare. "As I said, the first time is the worst. It will not be so bad next time."

'Next time.' The words nearly made Flare start dry heaving again but the feeling passed after a moment. "What now?" he asked.

Pellum smiled. "It's time for me to go. I suggest you change your clothes and find something to eat."

"Don't talk about food," Flare said quickly, through gritted teeth.

Nodding, Pellum stood up. "You're doing fine. Whatever happens, I'm sure you'll do your best. When it's timerselhe gre to return, you will know."

Flare looked up, not sure of what to say. As he was watching, Pellum disappeared. Rolling over, he was not surprised one bit to see that the statue on the far end of the pool was once again in place.

He rolled over one more time, just to get a little farther away from the edge of the pool and then fell asleep. He didn't even bother taking his wet clothes off.

 

Flare awoke with a start and sat up quickly. With relief he realized his headache was mainly gone. The second thing that occurred to him was that he was famished. Pulling his pack to him, he sat on the floor in front of the statues and tore into the food. With difficulty, he forced himself to stop eating sooner than he would have liked. He had a long journey ahead of him and he would want his rations for the trip.

Sighing, he repacked his pack and stood up. He looked around the room at the statues again, wondering who he would meet next time. He assumed that each of his teachers were represented by a statue. Would they all take as long as the first one had? He thought not, but wasn't sure.

Shouldering his pack, he began retracing his steps back out of the caverns. Strange, but he could remember coming in here a day ago, but at the same time if also felt like years and years.

His clothes were dry and stiff, a testimony to how long he slept. At least the room of statues had been warm, he shuddered at the thought of sleeping in the cool mountain air in his wet clothes.

He wandered back through the creature's lair and passed through without incident. He emerged into the mist around the waterfall, once again naked with his clothes wrapped in his pack. The return trip took less time than on the way in and he soon found himself back on the far side of the river.

It was mid-afternoon and Flare began his journey back toward the valley entrance. He scanned the sky constantly, determined not to let another of the flying creatures attack him unaware. He walked slowly, still feeling ill from his first journey to Sha'al. He wasn't in a hurry though, and stopped well short of sun-down at the first good campsite he found.

He slept soundly that night and awoke the next morning feeling even better than he had yesterday. It was a little disturbing how long he slept though, the sun had been up for at least several hours when he finally rolled out of his blankets.

After a hurried breakfast, he got packed up and moving. The travelling was easy and more enjoyable than on the way into the valley and Flare made good time.

He approached the entrance to the valley, and the accompanying statues, in the mid-afternoon. His steps slowed as he surveyed the statues. They were all facing away from him, but he wondered if their gazes would follow him as they had before.

He slipped between two of the statues and this time he didn't look back. The statues were creepy but he no longer believed they were dangerous, at least not to him. They were guardians of a sort, placed in the valley mouth to keep out everyone except those who would join the Dragon Order.

The area was overgrown with vegetation, bushes and small trees made travelling difficult, but he forced his way through. Within minutes the trees began to get taller and Flare passed under wide branching limbs.

The hairs standing up on the back of his ne;

Flare popped to his feet and Ossendar was already in his hand.

Two men dropped to the ground from one of the overhanging tree limbs. Both men held short swords at the ready.

Before either man moved, Flare was presented with an opportunity and he seized it. The man on the left held his short sword loosely, the point of the sword pointing towards his friend. Reaching out with his spirit, he grabbed the short sword and jerked it towards the man on the right. There was no time for either man to react and the sword caught him in the face. He went down screaming, his hands to his eyes.

The man on Flare's left was still off balance and Flare drove Ossendar at him, hoping to skewer him quickly. At the last moment, the mysterious attacker pivoted, turning his body to avoid most of the blow from Ossendar. Instead of stabbing the man, Ossendar slid across the man's clothing, still managing to cut him but not overly deep.

The attacker jerked his arm free of Flare's sorcerous hold and hit Flare in the face with his elbow.

Jerking backwards, Flare just managed to get Ossendar up and block the other man's short sword. There was a clank and the two men backed away from each other slightly.

Flare took another step back, giving himself a little more room. The men didn't wear the insignia of the Telurian army, but he couldn't think of who else they might be. He shook his head. His headache from two days ago had seemed almost gone but using sorcery had made it come roaring back.

There was the sound of a twig snapping behind him and Flare whirled, Ossendar screamed as it sliced through the air.

A third man, one that Flare hadn't seen yet, jabbed his sword at Flare. Only Flare's spin saved him. The blade was aimed at his gut, but it missed, instead slicing across his left side. The cut was a nasty one but Flare didn't let it slow him down.

The new arrival tried to jump back away from Flare's swing, but he was too slow. If he had been wearing a helmet, then the blow might not have been too bad, but as the man's head was bare, the blow was disastrous. The blade hit him along the left side of his head, just above the ear. The blade bit deep and the attacker went down without a sound.

Reversing his swing, Flare spun the sword the opposite way, hoping to catch his original attacker off guard. The original attacker had tried to take advantage of Flare's attention being diverted, but he was too slow, perhaps from the cut that he had received from Ossendar. Regardless, the man was still too far away.

Taking a deep breath, Flare clamped his left hand down on the cut in his side. It wasn't major, assuming he could tend to it soon.

More sounds came from behind him and Flare looked around. Two more men were coming up quickly, they too had swords drawn.

This was quickly getting beyond his ability to win as a sword fight, so Flare cast around for what other options he might have. Only one thing came to mind and he took a deep breath, knowing this was going to hurt. Sorcery was his best option, so he seized his spirit.

Like he had done against the winged creature in the valley, Flare seized six stones. Each of the rocks were about the size of man's head. He raight="0">

Even though his head felt like it was about to split open, Flare nevertheless took advantage of the situation. He swung Ossendar downwards at the original attacker. The man had gone to his hands and knees and Flare took his head off with one blow.

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