Valley of Valor (Noble Heart Book 6)

by Cynthia Griffith

  VALLEY OF VALOR

  CYNTHIA S. GRIFFITH

  COVER ART BY SARAH LOWE

  Copyright © 2010 by Cynthia S. Griffith

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or other—except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without prior written permission of the author.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter One: My Brother John

  Chapter Two: Glyn Tywyll

  Chapter Three: Sign of the Arrow

  Chapter Four: Precious Jewels

  Chapter Five: Truth and Consequences

  Chapter Six: Rhain and Rain

  Chapter Seven: Trail to the Edge of Nowhere

  Chapter Eight: Though the Waters Overflow

  Chapter Nine: A Parent’s Heart

  Chapter Ten: Through the Dark Valley

  Chapter Eleven: Valiant and Valor

  Chapter Twelve: Home at Last!

  _________

  CHAPTER ONE

  _________

  My Brother John

  He lay low in the underbrush, barely breathing. A whisper of rustling in the trees just a few feet to his right taunted him. He could do nothing without changing position, and yet to do so would undoubtedly alert his prey. At last, knowing this opportunity was slipping away from him, Noble turned his head. Inch by inch, with long seconds between each small movement, he rose up into a crouch. He made no noise with the effort, and he prayed the shadows in the deep gloom of the forest would cover his actions, but the senses of his adversary were sharp he knew, and the tiniest mistake would foil his chances.

  Noble slowly, cautiously fitted an arrow into his bow. He was experienced enough that, even in the pressure of the moment, his fingers did not tremble and his arm was steady. He forced himself to concentrate solely on that small patch of woods, waiting, watching for first sight of his prey. At last his patience was rewarded.

  One step, and then another, moved a shape slowly but steadily out from under the trees. At the first sight of the reddish-brown coat Noble’s grip on his bow tightened. The stag’s head was down, its wide antlers sweeping the ground as it grazed on the bits of grass it found beneath the fallen leaves. An almost inaudible sound from the figure on the ground next to Noble caused it to lift its head warily. The stag’s haunches tightened, preparing to spring away from its unseen danger, but before the majestic animal could move, Noble’s arrow had found its mark and it crashed to the ground with barely a quiver.

  Noble relaxed and for the first time in several minutes took a deep breath. “Well done, William!” he murmured.

  “Well done? But I didn’t do anything!” the young prince said, puzzled.

  “Exactly! You managed to not move or make a sound – an incredible feat for you!”

  William chuckled. “Well, almost. Sorry about that last little gasp! I couldn’t believe my eyes when I actually saw him!”

  “I know the feeling. Most hunters have similar reactions at first. You will learn to control it when you have had a little more experience. Now, come. Let us get a closer look at the big fellow.”

  They rose up out of the bushes where they had hidden for the last two hours and hurried over to the fallen beast. Noble’s heart was heavy, as usual, at the sight of the beautiful red deer. He took no great pleasure in bringing down one of these regal creatures, despite the victory won in the hunt and food provided for the king’s table. The Lord Himself had ordained that animals be used for food and that man would have dominion over them, but the beauty of His creation never failed to move Noble. He had been a hunter all his life, but had never delighted in the kill.

  William could not hide his excitement however. “Look, Noble! Twelve points on his antlers! How old do you suppose he was?”

  “It’s hard to say, William. The points on his antlers do not necessarily tell his age. I would say by his size that he was in his prime—maybe eight or ten years old.”

  “I hope Father will get a chance to see him,” William said eagerly.

  “Well, he is a nice stag, but I am sure your father has seen as good or better.”

  “The next time I hope it is I who makes the kill! I think I am ready, don’t you, Noble?”

  Noble looked at the young prince and for a moment he thought back to the little boy who had once jumped up and down and clapped his hands at the very sight of his hero, Sir Noble Heart. William was nearly the age Noble had been back then. The years had flown by swiftly as Noble had served the king faithfully as one of his most trusted knights and become as a close to the royal family as if he himself were a beloved son and brother.

  “Yes, the next time I think we will let you do the shooting, William. But come—it is time to return to the castle. We came further than I intended this morning and now we must waste no time. You have your studies and I must ride out on patrol today.” They loaded the deer onto the spare horse and rode back toward Caernarfon.

  The sun had been up for several hours already, but it was dim in the forest, and very quiet, as if its inhabitants were still asleep—or hidden in anticipation of some storm to come. The horses’ hooves were the only sound they heard as they crunched through the dry leaves underfoot and snapped small twigs in their path. Noble and William did not talk much—which was normal for Noble and not such a common occurrence for the young prince. This morning, however, they had risen early for the hunt, and now William allowed the slow jogging motion of his horse to half lull him to sleep. A few flies buzzed around the carcass on the pack horse behind them, but the annoying sound served only to further induce his drowsiness.

  It was a shock, then, when suddenly an arrow whizzed past his face and embedded itself with a thud into the tree next to him! He came to his senses with a jolt and pulled hard on the reins, not understanding for a moment what had happened or what he should do next. Warrior reared back on his hind legs at the sharp tug of the bit in his mouth, and whinnied loudly in protest.

  Noble was caught by surprise, as well. He knew immediately what had happened and his instincts took over. He dropped the reins of the spare horse and charged ahead on Valiant, putting himself between William and their unseen foe. In a split second he had an arrow fitted to his own bow, but too late he realized there was no way to protect the prince from their attacker, for it was not one assailant they faced but a whole force.

  They were surrounded. All around them men stepped out of the shadows with their sharp-tipped arrows pointed at them. They had been ambushed. Noble fought down the fear in his heart. He was sick that he had not been more alert to his surroundings. How could he have allowed the beauty of the morning and the serenity of the quiet forest to so dull his senses to danger? The guilt he felt was even greater than his fear. His lack of caution had put the prince in danger—and it seemed now there was nothing he could do about it.

  Noble glanced quickly around him. There had to be at least six or seven men encircling them. They were not on horseback, but Noble could see there was no chance to break through and escape without risking the prince’s life even further. He pressed Valiant close to William’s horse and with a slight shake of his head, cast a warning glance at the boy. Don’t speak! he tried to convey in that look, hoping that William would understand

  His mind was racing. The men had no armor and were dressed poorly. They were not soldiers, of that he was sure. But they were not merely simple peasant hunters, either. There was an ugliness to their demeanor—an aggressive fierceness to them. Criminals, no doubt. One of the gangs that roamed the land from time to time. Noble had gone out several times in
the last few years with the king’s men to wipe out these outlaws, but here was yet another band—and so close to Caernarfon. They were bold, indeed, if they dared to chance an encounter with the Guard.

  What was he to do, though? He was only one knight. Courage and skill he had, but against all these his hands were tied. His first priority was to protect the prince. He would have to use his wits—and call upon the Lord. Only He could help them now! His heart, from the first moment of the attack, had been crying out to his Shield and Defender, and now, as though in the midst of a storm, Noble felt a calm descend upon him. He lowered his bow and waited silently for whatever was to happen next.

  “Get off your horses!” one of the men ordered. “You’ll have no need of them now!” He stepped forward and reached up to drag William from the saddle.

  “Do not touch my brother!” Noble leaped from Valiant’s back and threw himself between the thief and the boy. “You may have the horses, and welcome to them, but then go! Leave us alone!” Noble could scarcely believe the words out of his own mouth. He who treasured truth and righteous living had let a lie slip from his lips so easily he might have been a life-long liar! And to willingly give Valiant to this band of rogues! Any other time, if he had been alone, he would have fought to the death for his beloved companion and steed, but today his duty lay only in protecting the prince.

  William was staring at him with his mouth half-open. He, too, was shocked at Noble’s words—and dismayed! He would not give up his horse to these thugs! He had waited too long for Warrior; too long to finally have a horse of his own! He was the prince, after all! No one would take his horse—not even Noble!

  The young prince was even more shocked when his friend himself suddenly yanked him off of Warrior and handed the reins over to the man. “No!” he started to yell, but Noble gave him a little shake and scowled at him fiercely.

  “My brother is young, and it is his first horse,” he said almost apologetically to the men surrounding them. “Take it. I am sure our father will give him another. Do you understand, John? Father will do anything for you. He will buy you another horse.” He glared at his “younger brother,” hoping that William would understand and play along with him.

  “Oh, ho! So you have a rich father do you?” one of the other men hooted.

  “Look, Caddock! We’ve stumbled onto something perhaps that might be of more worth than a few horses and a meal or two of venison!” another called out.

  “Who are you?” the man standing next to Noble snarled. He seemed to be the leader, the man they called Caddock.

  “I am Henry Talbot,” Noble said smoothly. It was his grandfather’s name, so it did not seem like such a lie. “This is my brother John. We have just been out hunting. And yes—you may take the deer and our pack horse, as well,” he offered generously, as if he had a choice. “I knew when Mother asked me to take you hunting with me this morning, John, that it was a mistake! Somehow you always manage to get us into a scrape when you tag along!” If he was going to play-act, he might as well do it to the fullest! Perhaps they would believe him and let them go, thinking they were nothing but a couple of harmless boys. Or even if they had evil intentions, as Noble suspected was more likely the case, the thought of a possible ransom might at least buy them some time to figure out a way of escape.

  “I cause you trouble!” William sputtered. He had at last caught on. “This is no fault of my own! And I am not so sure Father will buy me another horse! This is the third time this year you have lost your horse, Henry, and Father will be very angry!”

  “The third time! Oh-ho! Father must be very rich indeed to buy such fine horses for his sons! I have never seen such beauties, Caddock! Look here!” One of the men grabbed Valiant’s bridle and tried to pull down his head to look in his mouth.

  Valiant would have none of it, though. He tossed his head and reared back, pulling the man off his feet. The horse thief yelled and let go of the bridle, falling dangerously close to Valiant’s sharp hooves. The other men laughed.

  All except for their leader. Caddock was not smiling. “Quit fooling around, Finn!” he snapped. “I have not decided what we’ll do yet. It would be easier to just take the horses and get rid of the boys!” He sneered at Noble and spat at his feet. Noble thought of the hunting knife in his boot and wondered if it would do any good against so large a group of foes.

  “Ah, but surely the boys are worth more to their father than the horses?” someone else said. “We have both in our grasp! Why not get all we can from the old man?” Several of the others nodded and muttered in agreement.

  “Silence!” Caddock roared. “I make the decisions here! Tie them up for now and put them back on their horses. We will take them with us and I will decide later what to do with them.”

  As unnatural as his charade had been, it was made even more difficult as Noble was forced to stand still and allow them to bind him and the prince. He held his hands out in front of him with the hope that at least he might have the use of his hands.

  Caddock was too vigilant for that, though. “Behind his back! Tie his hands behind his back, Parry!” he barked. Parry jerked his arms behind him and bound them tightly. One of the other men was tying up William. They blindfolded them and then several men heaved them back onto their horses.

  The group set out leading them through the forest. Noble wondered at first why they had allowed them to ride while the rest of them walked, but soon realized it would have been slow-going indeed if they had tried to walk bound and blindfolded through the rough terrain. It was no easy feat staying on the horses with their hands tied behind them and being unable to see. Valiant seemed to understand and picked his way carefully over the uneven ground, but still every now and then a low branch would slap Noble in the face or he would lurch in the saddle as the pathway suddenly took a dip. He hoped William was faring better than he. Warrior was a smart horse, but whether or not he could equal Valiant in looking out for his master’s welfare, Noble was unsure.

  There was no talking among the men. They moved slowly and silently through the woods, making little noise even as they traipsed through the underbrush. No wonder they had been surprised by the ambush, Noble thought. They were skilled evidently in tracking for even Noble could not have done better than they in slipping shadow-like through the trees.

  He spoke up at one point, asking William, “Are you well, John?” but someone walking alongside him hissed “Silence—unless you want to be gagged, as well!” and struck him heavily on the thigh with his fist. There was no sound from William.

  The slow ride seemed to last forever, and there were no stops along the way for food or drink. Noble tried to keep his head about him and keep track of the direction they were moving by the feel of the sun upon his skin, but the sunlight was sketchy at best beneath the heavy trees and it did not take long for him to lose all sense of direction. Now and then he could sense the time of day, more or less, when they reached a sunny clearing, but where they were, he had no idea.

  It was late afternoon when at last they stopped and Noble and William were pulled off their horses once more. The blindfolds were pulled off their faces and water bottles were held to their lips. Noble took the short drink that was offered and then lifted his eyes to the scene before them.

  They were standing at the edge of a ridge. Below them stretched a narrow valley – more like a ravine, truth be told. Heavy woodland lay below in the shadows of the deep canyon walls. The afternoon’s sunshine could not seem to penetrate the shadows or the treetops, and the gloom of the valley seemed to hover as a fog, obscuring any shred of light or vision of delight below.

  Noble suddenly realized where they were. He had never been there before, but there was no doubt in his mind. He had heard frightening tales from the time of his childhood of this place, a place of perpetual twilight and crushing dread where even brave men shivered and heroes quaked. Noble had no doubt they were merely old wives’ tales, but still a cold chill seemed to blow now across his neck and down
his spine. They stood at the edge of Glyn Tywyll, and it appeared that their path led down into its mysterious blackness.

  Glyn Tywyll – the Dark Valley. Glyn Tywyll, also called Glyn Tranc—the Valley of Death.

  __________

  CHAPTER TWO

  __________

  Glyn Tywyll

  There was a brief pause in their journey at the top of the ridge. Noble and William were shoved to the ground at the base of a tree and each given a thick slice of bread. Their captors took no chances at allowing them to escape, however, for although the bonds on their hands were loosed so that they might eat, they were tied securely to the tree trunk, one on either side.

  If Caddock thought he could prevent them from communicating with one another in this way, he was wrong. The men seemed to be released from their ordered silence for now they talked among themselves as they rested for a few moments and ate their sparse lunch. No one seemed to be paying attention to them when Noble whispered, “Brother John!”

  “Yes, Henry?” William whispered back. Noble could imagine the slight grin on the boy’s face as they continued their play-acting in case someone overheard them.

  “You are doing well, Brother. Keep the faith. Father will rescue us, I am sure.”

  William was unsure if Noble was referring to his father, the king (Noble’s own father had died many years earlier) or their Heavenly Father, but either way, William did not doubt that they would be rescued. “Yes, I know,” he answered now. “I am not afraid, No—, er, Henry.”

  Noble looked around. Caddock was sitting several feet away but he was speaking to someone on the other side of him, and no one else was sitting close enough to hear their whispered conversation. “Continue to follow my lead. Do not speak unless you must, for we must not allow them to know your true identity, or mine, either, for that matter. Do not attempt to escape, Brother, unless I say so, for these men are ruthless and will stop at nothing. Do you understand?”