Valley of Valor (Noble Heart Book 6)

by Cynthia Griffith

  Michael was right. A faint path led away from the spot where William and Noble had been ambushed. The rain may have washed away all traces of foot prints, but though the leaves had compressed into heavy, soggy clumps, they had not been moved and now, where horses and men had shuffled through in single file, a track was barely visible. The king took heart. All was not lost, after all.

  Perhaps not lost, but their search moved at a snail’s pace. Just when they would move ahead twenty or thirty feet, they would lose the track all over again. They would spread out carefully, going over every inch of ground and grass, rock and rut until at last they found a partial foot print or a small patch of trampled weeds. Twice they had to turn back, discovering they were following a false pathway to nowhere, ending up at the foot of an unscaleable cliff or in a tangle of briars.

  “Father God, help us to find them!” King Stephen prayed continually in his heart as they looked. “Keep them safe wherever they are! Please, my Lord, let me bring my boy home unharmed to his mother!”

  The day went slowly. The rain never ceased and in no time they were covered in slimy mud. The king himself could not have been told apart from a common farmer, for he was caked up to his knees and elbows in the thick ooze, and muck spattered his face and beard. They had to pull their horses from the mire every now and then, or even drag their friends from its sticky grasp. They were forced to lead their horses for the most part, anyway, for they dare not risk missing the smallest marking on the trail. The animals followed along, their heads drooping dejectedly. The men held hope in their hearts that their mission would not be in vain, but all the horses cared about was getting back to a warm, dry stable and a bag of oats.

  The day had begun dark and gray, and it had never gotten any lighter. Now, though, it was becoming darker still. Somewhere, wherever the sun still shone, it was sinking toward the horizon, but above them and beyond the trees, there were no gold and pink and orange streaks in the sky to mark sunset’s approach. The gloom became darker until their task became even more impossible than it had been all day.

  “Do you know where we are?” the king asked Sir Michael. “It seems that we must be too far away to go back to Snowdon for the night.”

  Sir Michael shook his head ruefully. “Truthfully, Sire, I do not know where we are. We have headed northwards, I think, most of the day, but it is difficult to be sure since we have seen no sign of the sun today and have kept our noses pressed to the ground. We cannot go back to Snowdon and risk losing the trail all over again, and I have no idea if we are close to any little hamlets or even a farm where we might find shelter for the night.”

  “Then we will camp here for the night. It would help if it would only stop raining so that we could light a fire, but it does not look like that will be the case.”

  “No, Sire,” Sir Michael said. “Sire, if you don’t mind, I would like to ride ahead a bit. The trees seem to be thinning out here and I am wondering if we are nearing the edge of the forest. If that is the case, I may be able to see something before we lose the last glimmer of light that will tell us where we are.”

  “I will go with you,” the king said. He motioned for two or three of the men to come with them and instructed the rest to wait there.

  Sir Michael was correct. They were barely out of sight of the others when the trees came straggling to an end. The rain struck them with full force once they were clear of the sheltering branches and the wind pulled at their cloaks. They thought it had been bad inside the woods. It was ten times worse where they now stood.

  Where they now stood was on the top of a ridge. It gave way nearly at their feet to a narrow valley, or gorge. Below them all seemed black—black cliffs, black rocks, black trees. The curtain of rain in front of their eyes and the coming night veiled any details of the ravine, but truth be told, there would not have been much to see, anyway, even if they had had the benefit of the noontime sun.

  “I know this place!” the king said now in a strange voice. Sir Michael looked at him quizzically. “This is Glyn Tywyll!”

  “Glyn Tywyll? I have heard that name before…” Sir Michael said thoughtfully. “Oh! Glyn—Sire, are you sure? I beg your pardon, Your Majesty, but I did not think that place truly existed! Glyn Tywyll? Why, is it not merely a name from our old childhood fairy tales?”

  King Stephen shook his head. “I came here once with my father when I was just a lad—younger even than William, I think. We stood on its edge (oh, not in this very spot, but somewhere along its rim) and looked down into its dark depths. My father told me its name and said it is the lair of ghosts and goblins and ogres and the like. Then he laughed! I was frightened, but I tried not to show it. After all, I was to be king someday! A king was not supposed to be afraid—or if he was, he must not ever show it.” He turned to face his young knight. “But I am afraid, Michael! I am a grown man now, and the king, but I am afraid!”

  “What do you mean, Your Majesty?” Sir Michael was alarmed. He had never seen the king look so upset. Surely he did not believe is some childish story of the boogey-man!”

  “I mean that we will never find William now for we have come to a dead end once again! There is no turning back this time, though, for the trail is surely gone. We have come to the edge of the Dark Valley, the Valley of Death and we cannot go on. It is hopeless. We have lost him! I am afraid we have lost my son, Michael!” Bitter tears now fell, mingling with the rain on the king’s face.

  “But Your Majesty, why cannot we ride into the valley and continue the search? They must have gone this way! The trail leads here and then disappears! I do not fear the old tales, and I know the men will gladly follow you anywhere, even into Glyn Tywyll! Let us descend into the valley at dawn’s first light, Sire!”

  “You do not understand, Sir Michael! Glyn Tywyll faded into legend long ago for a reason. There are no roads leading to this place because they would serve no purpose. Once you have reached its upper rim you have gone as far as is possible. It is impossible for man or beast to descend into the valley—at least not without ropes and many more men than we have here today. They could not have gone into Glyn Tywyll. We must turn back and hope against hope that we can pick up the trail elsewhere. Let us go. We will try again in the morning.”

  The king wiped his hand over his face and turned his horse back to the forest. A low rumble rose from the floor of the valley, but they did not hear it as they rode away—or if they did, they thought it was merely the echo of thunder.

  Glyn Tywyll lay shrouded in blackness, deserted and forgotten by all the world, it seemed. Only its Creator knew what lie at the bottom—and He would never leave them or forsake them.

  ___________

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ___________

  Though the Waters Overflow

  Never had Noble felt so helpless. He had let down his guard. He had failed to protect the prince or rescue him from their dire straits. And now this child had been driven out into the storm and flood because of him. How could he have failed everyone around him so miserably? Why had God allowed this? What is Your purpose, Lord? Have I missed Your leading? Have I failed even You?

  Noble strained at the stubborn knot. Ruby and Pearl were crying. Beryl stood at the open door, peering anxiously into the blackness for a glimpse of Jasper. Noble feared that any moment the little boy would dash out into the night after his brother, and that they both would be lost.

  Apparently William was thinking the same thing. “Beryl!” he called urgently. “Come help me with these ropes, will you? Hurry! Sir Noble and I will go out and help Jasper as soon as we are freed!”

  The child did not seem to hear for a moment, but then he reluctantly turned back from the open door and ran over to the corner to help them. His smaller fingers were somehow able to find something to grasp, and though he did not have the strength to pull the rope through, he loosened it enough that William at last could untie the first knot. Beryl then turned his attention to Noble.

  The horses’ whinnies once
again sounded above the noise of the storm, but this time they were not the frantic cries of trapped animals, but the triumphant trumpeting of freedom. “He did it!” Noble exclaimed, looking up from his bonds. “I know Valiant’s war cry, when he is eager to go and senses victory! Jasper did it!”

  Hope sprang up in their hearts. If they could just get free now themselves from these ropes, they could escape and take the children with them. Valiant and Warrior both could carry them, and even the pack horse might still be able to carry one of the children.

  Their hopes were soon dashed. Jasper suddenly appeared at the door looking like a drowned rat and breathing heavily. They were filled with joy at his safe return. “Jasper!” Ruby cried, rushing to him and throwing her arms around his waist. She clung to him as if he would disappear from her life altogether if she let go. Beryl grinned, and forgetting his job for the moment, ran to his big brother to pound him happily on the back. Even Baby Pearl held out her little arms to welcome him. Noble and William sighed with relief.

  Jasper’s first words brought their joy and relief crashing back to earth. “The horses have run away, Sir Noble!” He bent over with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

  Noble and William stared in dismay. How could this be? The pack horse they could understand, but Valiant and Warrior, their beloved companions? Warrior was young and somewhat inexperienced—perhaps in his panic he would bolt, but Valiant? Noble could scarcely believe it. Valiant was courageous. In any time of danger he had stood his ground, always ready to protect and defend his young master. That he would desert him now seemed unbelievable to Noble.

  Jasper stood up and looked them in the eye. “I am sorry. I nearly did not get to them, for the water is strong and three times I was knocked off my feet. By the time I finally reached them they were thrashing about and I had to be careful not to be crushed between them. Fortunately, Rhain did not tie their reins tightly but merely looped them with a loose knot to a branch, and it did not take long to release them. I was going to move them to higher ground but as we moved into the fast current they became spooked and broke away. I fell again and by the time I was able to get to my feet, they had disappeared into the night. I am truly sorry, Your Highness and Sir Noble.”

  William spoke. “Do not worry about it, Jasper. You did a good job. You saved their lives, I am sure. Thank you.” He tried to hide the sickness he felt in the pit of his stomach. What were they to do now?

  Noble said, “You risked your life for the sake of the animals, Jasper. I thank you, as well. You are a brave boy, Jasper. You did the best you could, so do not feel bad. I am just glad you were able to make it safely back to the house.” He breathed a prayer—Now what, Lord?—and turned back to their other problem. “Do you think you might be able to help us now with these ropes? Is there nothing at all in this place that might cut through them? No knives—not even a dull butter knife? No ax? Nothing?”

  “The ax!” Beryl and Jasper cried out together. Without another word Jasper ran out of the cottage once more.

  This time he was back in less than a minute. He carried a small rusty ax in his hand and rushed over with it to Noble and William. He knelt down at their feet as if he would chop at the ropes himself, but then on second thought, handed it to Noble.

  Noble nodded his thanks and grinned slightly. If anyone was going to slice into his leg with a hatchet, he would rather it be he himself than this young lad! He carefully slid the edge of the ax head between his skin and the rope. It was tight. He could barely get the sharp lip of the blade in, but as he exerted pressure, the strands of rope began to break. One by one he cut through the wound and knotted bands until, at last, his ankles were free from their bonds. He turned to William and did the same for him.

  They were free! Noble handed the ax back to Jasper and stood, helping William to get to his feet, as well. Their legs were stiff and sore, and chafed badly at the ankles, but they did not complain. They were just happy to be standing again! They took a few careful steps, trying to get the strength back into their limbs.

  Suddenly Ruby cried, “Look! The water is coming through the door!” She pulled her feet up onto the hearth and gathered Pearl in her lap.

  Noble forgot about stretching his legs and strode quickly to the door. He strained to see out into the blackness of the rainy night. “The water is completely surrounding the house now,” he said. “We are in the middle of a lake. If it continues to rise, we may have to go up to the loft to stay out of its reach.” He did not say it, but he wondered, And as for escape? Is it too late for that? If we cannot even save ourselves, how can William and I hope to rescue the children? What do we do now, my Father? Show me the way! his heart fervently prayed.

  The answer came before he could even turn back to those who were looking to him for answers. My son, do you not trust Me? Have I ever failed you? You cannot save yourselves! It is I who will bring you through the flood! Have not I promised in My Word to deliver you from the deep waters?” He heard the words as clearly as if a voice had whispered them in his ear. A feeling of peace settled over him—the peace in the midst of the storm.

  No sooner had he heard the calm whisper of assurance, though, when another sound filled his ears. It started out as a low rumble, far away and nearly inaudible. It sounded like distant thunder. Within seconds, though, as Noble began to pay attention, it became louder and more distinct. The clamor of crashing boulders and cracking trees resounded in the air above the wind and the rain, and underneath it was the roar of rushing waters. The floor began to tremble beneath his feet.

  Noble jumped back from the doorway. “We have to get out of here!” he shouted. “A flash flood is coming down the canyon! The house is right in its path! It cannot withstand it! Run!” He leapt to Rudy and Pearl who were sitting on the hearth by the fireplace. “William, take the baby! Jasper, help Beryl! Do not let him go! Come, everyone! There is no time to lose!”

  The others seem to be rooted to the ground. They, too, could feel the tremor in the floor and hear the noise of the approaching flood, but their brains could not seem to understand what was happening. Noble thrust Pearl into William’s arms, and gave Jasper and Beryl a shove toward the door. “Run, I said! Run! Don’t stop!” he screamed. He scooped Ruby into his own arms and shouted, “Head for high ground! Run away from the stream and do not go through low areas! Go, go, go!”

  At last the others did as he said. Jasper and Beryl dashed for the door with William and the baby right behind them. They did not hesitate but plunged into the water. Noble was only a step or two behind, but Ruby clutched him so tightly around the neck that he had to stop for a moment and pry her arms loose. “Do not fear,” he tried to speak calmly to the terrified child. “I will not let you fall, Ruby. Hang on, but do not choke me, alright?” She nodded and he sprinted after the others.

  The night was black, but somehow a little light reflected off the water and enabled them to see. Ahead of him, Jasper and Beryl went down. The water was deeper and faster now than when Jasper had gone out to help the horses. They came up sputtering. Noble ran to help them, but the water slowed him down, and by the time he reached them they had managed to get to their feet on their own. Noble reached out with one hand while he still clutched Ruby to steady them and help them along. “Jasper, lead the way!” he shouted. “The prince and I do not know this land. William, stay close with us! Hurry! There is not much time!”

  The roar of the flood was much closer now. Noble glanced over his shoulder, expecting to see the torrent of water and destruction bursting through the trees in the valley at any moment. The flood would follow the stream bed. The little cottage which stood nearly on its banks would not stand a chance. They had to get away—faster, faster!

  His thoughts raced through his mind in a split second, but somehow his spirit remained calm. He focused on staying on his feet and helping the others. He glanced to his right where William cradled the baby protectively against his body. He could see a look of determination and courage
on the young prince’s face as they waded through the now waist-deep water as quickly as they could.

  Jasper and Beryl were struggling now, for the water was even deeper on them. It had reached to Beryl’s chest. He was frightened, Noble could see. He gave the boy’s shoulder a squeeze. Beryl looked up at him and Noble said merely, “Trust God.” Beryl nodded and pushed on.

  Jasper seemed to be oblivious to the rushing, swirling water all around him. He was concentrating on finding them a path to safety. Sir Noble had entrusted him with the task of leading their flight, and now he must do it to the best of his ability for all their sakes. He had cared for his younger and brother and sister ever since their mother’s death. He could not fail them now.

  They were only a hundred feet from the cottage when the flood suddenly broke through and bore down upon the cottage. With a loud boom the little house exploded as the water and boulders and broken trees it carried crashed down upon it. The children screamed. It had been a miserable home, but it was the only home they had ever known. Every little scrap they had ever treasured and secreted away in their dark loft was gone now. Beryl’s small collection of pretty rocks. The three or four pictures Jasper had drawn upon pieces of birch bark. The faded dress their mother had worn. Ruby had been saving it until someday she was big enough to wear it, but that would never happen now.

  They had reached a thick grove of young beech trees just as the flood came rushing into the little clearing. “Grab onto the trees!” Noble shouted. He gave the boys a shove toward a sturdy-looking trunk and lunged for the tree right next to it. William was a few feet away, but he managed to catch a thick branch and hang on.

  They were far enough away that the full force of the torrent did not come crashing down upon them, but all around the water surged, rising and rushing and swirling. It lifted them into the branches, and it would have carried them away if they had not looped their arms around the limbs and clung with all their might. Jasper and Beryl were protected from the worst of the strong current for they had somehow managed to put the tree between them and the surge. William, on the other hand, had all he could do to hang on with one arm while he grasped the baby in his other. Ruby once again had her choke-hold around Noble’s neck. He struggled to breathe and hang on to her and the tree at the same time. “Ruby!” he gasped. She loosened her grip a bit—a very tiny bit.