Valley of the Ancients: Book Three of the Restoration Series (19 page)

BOOK: Valley of the Ancients: Book Three of the Restoration Series
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"Nonsense," Abner said good naturedly. "Sadah can share a room with me and Flare can have Sadah's room."

Sadah frowned at this, but Judoc nodded his head after a moment.

"Did you see my sister?" Eunice asked eagerly of Abner.

Abner smiled but didn't answer the woman right away. Instead, he turned his attention to Flare. "Why don't you move our packs into our rooms? I have a lot of information for Eunice."

"Hurry back," Judoc said smiling at Sadah. His smile disappeared as he glanced in Flare's direction. "Dinner's ready. If you want it."

"Not exactly friendly. Are they?" Flare asked Sadah, as they carried the packs to their rooms.

"They don't know you. They mistrust everyone they don't know."

Flare nodded. It was understandable. These villages were hidden and practically unknown. Probably, most of those that travelled through here were running from something. And with no king to maintain order, every man had to watch out for himself.

 

After dropping their packs off in their rooms, Sadah led Flare to the kitchen. It was a rather small kitchen with an adjoining dining room. The dining room was completely filled up by three tables. Each of the tables had eight chairs surrounding it.

The only people in the room was Abner, Eunice, and Judoc. They were seated at one end of the table closest to the kitchen.

Eunice appeared a little giggly. It seemed that her niece, who dearly wanted a daughter, had just given birth to her fifth son.

"But she swears that she will continue trying," Abner said grinning.

"I'm sure her husband appreciates that," Judoc said. He too was grinning, but it slipped a little as Sadah and Flare entered the room. He pushed his chair back from the table, "Just a moment and I'll have that food out here."

True to his word, Judoc returned quickly laden down with food. The main part of the meal was some sort of roasted bird. Flare didn't know what it was and didn't ask too many questions.

Abner and Eunice talked throughout the meal. It seemed that it had been some time since she had heard any news of her family. The guilt began to gnaw at Flare again, as he thought of how many people he had prevented from getting similar news. He hurriedly choked down the last several bites on his plate and then pushed his chair back. The others turned towards him.

"Thank you for the wonderful food, but I think I'll try that pub."

Judoc seemed content to let him leave, but Eunice huffed. "For goodness sake, Judoc. At least warn the boy."

Looking sour, Judoc nodded. "Some trappers came down from the mountains two days ago. Tough lot. There have been fights every night. I suggest you don't go over there. They don't need much of an excuse to kill a man."

Flare nodded. "Thank you for the warning." He flexed his back slightly and felt the reassuring hardness of his sword. "I can take care of myself." He left without another word, but he could feel the stares of those at the table watching him.

 

The pub was only a short walk from the inn and Flare walked along the little wooden sidewalk. The sun had gone down while they were eating supper and it was getting chilly. It wasn't unbearable, but it was cold.

Stepping into the pub felt like stepping into an oven. As he opened the door, a wave of heat came boiling out and washed over him.

The pub consisted primarily of a single large room. Four long tables took up the middle of the room and several smaller tables lined the walls. Opposite the front door, a long bar sat against the back wall. On either side of the bar were two small doors, that presumably led to storage rooms. There were two fireplaces, one along the left wall and the other along the right wall. Both fireplaces had fires, but the fireplace on the right also had a pig roasting on a spit.

A big bear of a man leaned against nagices of tthe bar cleaning a glass. He watched Flare with suspicion as he entered.

There weren't many customers this evening. Several men sat at chairs along the bar and several rough looking barmaids were moving amongst the tables.

Six men sat at one of the long tables. Rough looking men. They were unkempt with long shaggy hair and beards. Their clothes were made out of furs, making Flare think that these must be the men that Judoc warned him about. When he had opened the door the men had been in the middle of a loud and boisterous song. They cut off as he entered and watched they watched him closely. He couldn't tell if they were watching him with suspicion or something else. Maybe anticipation?

Ignoring the men seated at the table, Flare picked his way through the tables to the long bar at the back. There were two men sitting on stools next to the bar, both were old and scrawny with long hair and full beards. They studiously avoided looking at Flare, so he avoided them as well.

He leaned against the bar and motioned to the barrels sitting just behind the bar. "I'd like a drink."

The big bartender smiled and leaned in close and spoke softly. "Listen. You'd better get out of here. It's not safe for you until those men behind you leave town."

Flare glanced an unspoken question at the two old men to his right.

The bartender shook his head. "There's no challenge in starting a fight with these two, but I daresay you won't be so lucky."

"Irma!" The bartender bellowed suddenly, causing Flare to start.

One of the barmaids that Flare had noticed earlier came hustling over. She had seen at least forty or so years and was quite thick through the middle. Her hair was pulled back in a long pony tail and she was rather homely. She stopped next to the bar with her eyes downwards.

"Take this man out the back and give him a roll in the hay," the bartender said. He caught the look of surprise on Flare's face and he leaned in close. "On the house. Just come back after." He cut off in mid sentence, his eyes going wide and staring behind Flare.

Turning in his chair, Flare wasn't surprised that the six trappers were no longer sitting at their table. Two were now standing at the far end of the room, leaning against the wall on either side of the front door. The other four were spread out facing Flare.

"There's a rule here that says newcomers has to buy for everybody," the man closest to Flare said. He was tall and muscular and his skin had that leathery look of someone who has been out in the sun too much. He smiled and Flare could see that he was missing several teeth.

"Is that so?" Flare asked. He realized that he was smiling and that bothered him a little. He shouldn't be enjoying this like he was.

"Yes," the big trapper said. He too was smiling. "Why don't you just go ahead and leave us all your money?"

"So you're not only ugly and stupid, you're also thieves as well?" Flare asked, still grinning. He was definitely enjoying this too much. Perhaps it was the anxiety or just impatience that was weighing on him but whatever it was, this confrontation felt right. It felt good.

The smile disappeared from the big man's face and he drew a nitianing inlong knife from his belt. "Shouldn't have said that." He flung the blade at Flare and it tumbled through the air end over end.

The knife stopped short. It hung in the air a foot from Flare's chest. The blade just hung there in mid-air. Gone were the trappers' looks of anticipation. Their posture changed as well. They had been almost lounging in their stance but now they were standing more upright, more weary.

Slowly, the knife turned around, pointing back at the man that had thrown it. No one said a word, the trappers just stood there watching the knife. Wide eyed fear had replaced their cocky self assurance.

With a casual thought, Flare sent the knife flying back at its owner. This time it didn't tumble, this time it flew straight.

The trapper tried to dodge out of the way but the knife still caught him in the shoulder. He grabbed the wound and dropped to one knee. "Get him," he said still grimacing in pain.

The trapper on Flare's right and the one on the far left both charged. The one on the right was closest and Flare turned his attention to him first. The man swung a long knife similar to the one that the first trapper had thrown.

Flare easily dodged the blow and kicked out with his right foot. He caught the trapper on the side of the man's knee. There was a sickening crunch and he fell headfirst into the bar. The trapper's head hit the bar hard and there was a second crunching sound and he didn't move.

Turning his attention to the second trapper, Flare twisted to avoid the man's knife. The man was closer than he realized and the blow nearly gutted him. Flare's sudden movement saved his life but the knife still sliced open a wound on his left forearm.

Pain seared through his arm; pain and anger. Seizing his spirit he heaved the man backwards and the trapper's big bulk flew through the air landing hard on a table which crumpled underneath the man's weight. He hit the ground hard and pieces of the table rained down on his unmoving body.

The first trapper regained his feet and pulled the knife from his shoulder. The two from the back of the room had come about half way forward and stopped. They seemed unsure if they wanted to join this fight or not.

His anger was now white hot and Flare reached over his shoulder and drew his sword. There was a ringing sound as the sword emerged from the sheath. The sound seemed unbearable in the sudden quiet of the pub. In the flickering light from the fireplace, the small diamond in the pommel seemed to glow brightly. To Flare's ears a soft melancholy sound drifted by, just on the edge of hearing. It was a sound to make one happy and sad at the same time. In his current state, he barely even noticed.

"If you come at me with those knives, then I'll kill every last one of you," he said quietly. The pain and anger had combined within and he fully meant every word.

For a moment, the wounded trapper looked like he might attack anyway. His face was flushed and blotchy. This wasn't a man who was used to being beaten. They stood there for several moments. The three healthy trappers looking from Flare to their wounded leader.

Flare's eyes never left the wounded man. He could tell that this man would decide the fate of all them. Finally, he lowered his knife and the other three did as well.

"Let me take them with me," the wounded man said, pointing n

Flare nodded and moved out of the way. He stood near the side of the pub with his back to the wall. He kept his sword out and ready.

It didn't take long for the four men to get the two wounded trappers off the floor. The man who had landed on the table was disorientated and moaning, but the man who hit the bar was unmoving and there wasn't any sign of life.

The trappers said not a word as they left the pub. The leader's eyes watched Flare as they left. Those eyes promised retribution if they ever met under different circumstances.

When they were gone, Flare returned his sword to its sheath. The bartender and the barmaids had fled out the back but the two old men were still there. Strangely enough, they were still sitting on their stools with their drinks in hand. As Flare turned his gaze on them, they quickly dropped their eyes back to their drinks.

Swallowing hard, he stumbled from the room. The cold night air was a welcome change from the heat of the pub. He stopped just outside the pub and leaned against the wall.

He had completely lost control. Probably killed one man and maybe another. Without a doubt, he would have killed all of them if they hadn't left.

Swallowing hard, he nearly vomited. What was wrong with him? And then another thought hit him. The Kelcer prophecy warned about the Destroyer. It said he would be a vile murderer of the worst kind. He had always assumed that wasn't him or that Kelcer got it wrong. What if he was becoming that person?

Despite the coolness of the evening, a cold sweat broke out across his forehead. He had killed many times before. As a soldier killing had been his job. He had killed other times as well, but in self defense. If the truth be told, those men in the pub had started the whole thing and he had just defended himself. The problem with that was he didn't even try to stop the fight. He had been excited by it.

'Are you proud of yourself?' a voice asked.

Flare sighed. It was a voice he knew well but hadn't heard from in a long time. "No." The disembodied voice had first spoken to him at Fort Mul-Dune. It had warned him and helped keep him alive during the siege. The same voice had nudged him in one direction or another on multiple occasions since then as well.

'Nor should you be.'

"I haven't heard from you in a long time." Flare said. There was no response and he sighed deeply. "Are you not talking to me? Did you just come here to tell me how badly I'm doing."

'You can not stay in the town. You must leave tonight.'

"My guide refuses to leave," Flare answered. "I would like nothing better than to leave."

'You must leave tonight even if you must go alone. Much depends on you.'

"Yeah," Flare said pushing away from the wall. "I have some questions about that." Silence. The only sound was the whistling of the wind as it picked up.

"Hey! Are you still here?" Flare hollered, but nothing and no one answered.

 

"Damn it boy! What were you thinking?" Abner demanded as Flare entered the empty common room. &q nwent width="uot;The story of a swordsman using sorcery is spreading like wildfire! If we're not careful, we might not live to see the morning."

The dull anger was still with him but Flare was also feeling a lot of guilt. The anger threatened to boil over again at Abner's words but he refused to let it. However, he refused to let the guilt hold him any longer either. "I was attacked and I defended myself. I will not apologize for that."

With his face twisted in anger, Abner took two quick steps towards Flare. The old man raised his hands to grab at Flare's cloak but he never touched it.

Flare turned quickly and shuffled his feet. His hands came up, already balled into fists.

Abner stopped and stared blankly at Flare. The anger was gone, well, mostly gone, and now he was surprised. "I wasn't attacking you," he said quietly.

Flare relaxed and nodded. "I wasn't sure. You seemed pretty angry." His words were cool and calm. He had to remain in control. The fear of losing control had a firm grip on him now.

"What's the matter?" Abner asked, studying Flare's face. "Has something happened?"

"I have to leave. Now." Flare answered in that same calm voice. "I wanted to thank you for your help and apologize if I've caused any problems for you."

"Boy. We've been through this. I have to stay here at least a day or two. I can't leave now."

"I understand," Flare said, "but I have to go now."

Abner blinked in sudden understanding. "You're going on alone?"

"I have to. Besides I can't keep imposing on you."

"But you don't know where the valley is," Abner argued. "How are you going to find it without me?"

BOOK: Valley of the Ancients: Book Three of the Restoration Series
7.39Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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