The Valley of Ten Crescents Series (Box Set: Books 1-3)

by Tristan J. Tarwater

  “You’ll be meeting your second in a bit,” she said, nodding her head in greeting to someone who waved. The Last Stop appeared in the distance, a lone building standing apart from all the others. A girl fed some chickens in the yard and the aroma of dozens of suppers made Derk’s stomach rumble. He grinned at Sindra’s words.

  “Another? You mean our guide-”

  “Is a Forester, yes,” she said. “Very knowledgeable about the Freewild. He…spends a lot of time there.”

  “Oh?” Not only was the guide a Forester, which was strange, but he spent time in the Freewild. Was he a criminal? From what Derk understood only miscreants and social rejects lived in the Freewild, though he never said this to Old Gam. The Freewild was strange with land often fertile one year and dead the next. Not to mention the threat of Freemen, the strange creatures living in the crevices and hollows, beaten back by the Barons. Derk remembered the depictions and stories from his youth, how the Freemen raided villages and stole food and weapons, having no language but shrieks and cries. Their numbers had dwindled to the point where they were almost just stories. Still, most people chose not to live in the Freewild. It was safer in the Baronies.

  “Was your friend born there?” he asked, trying to steer the conversation back to the guide. It occurred to him maybe Sindra and the guide were more than just acquaintances. Perhaps this is why she didn’t want anyone to come along.

  “No, we were both born in the Forest.” Derk and Sindra walked through the door of the Last Stop and Derk was glad to be within the walls of a bar again. It was noisy and warm, the way it was supposed to be with the aroma of sawdust, beer and food cooked all day wafting through the air. People played cards and dice at tables and in the corner a quartet of musicians were setting up. Sindra looked around and Derk did too, out of habit, though he had no idea who he was looking for. Instead of a guide he found a free table and pointed it out, the pair of them picking their way through the occupied tables and chairs.

  “What’ll you drink?” he asked. “Some food, maybe? A snack? A dance when the music starts?” That got a smile out of her. She seemed nervous, her arms crossed over her chest. “A drink?” Sindra nodded eventually and smiled without showing her teeth, keeping her eyes focused on the door. In the dim light of the bar her eyes seemed almost black but they were still pretty.

  “One pitcher of your summer brown,” Derk said. “Three cups. And a bit of whatever you have that’s fried.” The sinewy man behind the bar went into the back and came back with the pitcher and glasses, handing them over only when Derk laid down the money to pay for them. He raised the pitcher, showing it off to Sindra before sitting down with her and carefully pouring her a glass. Sindra took it all too quickly and gulped it down.

  No sooner had she set her cup down when she stood up and waved, Derk looking to see who. Derk tilted his head to the side, slightly confused at the person who walked in. He was a Forester to be sure. His dark skin was a touch darker than Sindra’s and when he pulled back his hood Derk saw they shared the same raven black hair. However his mouth was thinner and looked like it rarely smiled, his steely grey eyes hard as mirrorstone. On a face so young it was almost a shame.

  What really made Derk stare was the armor he wore and the sword at his side. Who showed up to a tavern in armor? In this weather? The sword he could understand. Swords didn’t fit in packs. But the guide looked like he was there for a fight, not to meet a friend for a job. Derk half expected to see dead animals hanging off of him but the sword was the only thing he saw.

  Well, they aren’t lovers, Derk mused, watching as the two Foresters regarded one another. They looked related. Sindra tried to display a happy face but the guide just sat down, letting his pack slip to the ground with a rather ominous thump. Maybe the dead animals were in there, Derk thought. As if sensing his thoughts the guide shot a glance at Derk, as if trying to stare him down. Derk smiled and waved two fingers in greeting. “Hi, I’m Derk.”

  The guide slid into his chair and raised his eyebrows at Sindra in a way which could only be described as annoyed. Then he started to talk. It must have been in Forester because Derk didn’t understand anything he said. He could tell the Forester was not happy. He wasn’t surprised when Sindra answered the guide back in the same foreign tongue, both of them seeming to whisper though no one could have possibly understood what they were saying. Derk wrapped his hand around his mug and took a pull off of it before he set it back down, pouring their guest a cup. Without missing a breath, the guide took the cup once it was full and took a drink.

  Derk sat back in his chair and watched the two talk. It was obvious the guide was not pleased to see Derk there. He appeared to be trying to back out of whatever arrangement they had and Sindra was trying to convince him to help. Then Sindra said something and the guide corrected her, which made Sindra laugh, not in a kind way. She said something else to him and took a sip of her drink. Now the guide looked serious. He crossed his arms on the table and brought his tankard to his lips, setting his eyes on Derk. Derk just waved back.

  “Why are you going?” the guide asked him. His words were accented, his Rs rolling too much as if he was still speaking Forester. Just then the tender brought a plate of food; vegetable fritters with sauce.

  “Why, so you can steal my reason? Find your own!” Derk picked up one of the fritters and frowned, finding them to be too greasy. He took a bite and watched as the guide stared at him for a few breaths. Derk raised his brows at him and sat back in his chair, watching as the guide turned his attention back to Sindra and asked her something.

  Finally Sindra laughed and the priestess stood. “I’m going to step outside for a bit. Don’t let him leave.” She pointed to the guide and addressed Derk.

  “Maybe we’ll leave together,” Derk chided, taking a sip of his drink. Sindra narrowed her eyes at them both before she made her way out of the bar. The guide stared at Derk. It almost made Derk shiver.

  “Come on, let us leave,” The Forester said, grabbing his pack. Derk grasped him by the wrist and shook his head.

  “Are you serious? I was only kidding, we can’t leave!” Derk waited to let go of young guide’s wrist, once he was sure he understood. “I mean, we could but Sindra’d be angry. They’re counting on you.”

  “I do not want to take you into the Freewild,” the guide said, shaking his head. “It is not a good idea.”

  “Why?” Derk said, lowering his head. “You afraid to take us? We can hold our own.”

  “No, it is not that,” the guide said. “I simply do not like you.”

  “What?!” Derk wasn’t sure if he had heard the Forester correctly. “You don’t like us?” He couldn’t believe it. But the guide nodded. “What are you, ten?” Derk sputtered.

  “Ten what?”

  “Ten years old! Is someone playing a trick on me?” Derk ran his fingers through his hair, trying to wrap his his mind around what the guide just said. “Look. What’s your name?”

  “Jezlen.”

  “Jezlen,” Derk said. “I didn’t give you a reason to come along with us because you have to have your own reason for doing things. Otherwise you’ll just jump off the cart before you hit the gate. Sometimes you do things even if you don’t like the people you’re working with. Though to be fair, you haven’t met all of us. I’ve been told I am very likeable. And Asa is fun. Devra’s good to look at, sweet as well. And well, do you have anything better to do? Honestly?” Maybe Jezlen did. From the looks of his armor and his pack, he’d done a few things before this meeting. But obviously he had free time or he wouldn’t have shown up at Last Stop. “Plus, what about Sindra? She looks like she needs you. Like…it would mean a lot to her. You’re what, cousins?”

  “She is the sister of the first wife of the brother of my father.” Jezlen said it with a straight face so Derk tried not to laugh or make a big deal out of it. Instead he drained his beer cup and poured himself another glass, seeing Sindra enter through the door.

  “So your…aunt.
She needs you. I bet that means something.” Derk tried to read Jezlen but when he wasn’t talking he was hard to gauge. Sindra sat down and picked up one of the fritters, wrinkling her nose.

  She talked to Jezlen in the strange language again, leaving Derk to try to figure out what they were saying. After a breath, he leaned forward. “You know, it would be nice if you would speak in Valleymen.”

  Jezlen stared at Derk and laughed, not with his mouth but with his eyes. “Do you speak Forester, Derk?” he asked, pouring himself another drink.

  “No,” Derk replied curtly, wondering what was his point.

  “I speak Forester and Valleymen. How is it my problem if you do not know a language?” Jezlen rolled his eyes and reached into his pack, pulling out a pipe and some smoking herbs. “I am fine with switching. Your Forester is not very good anymore, Sindra.”

  “You’re a terrible nephew,” Derk said. He didn’t care if Jezlen didn’t like it.

  “Everything I am, I am terrible,” Jezlen said, pulling a match out and bringing it to his pipe, lighting the bowl with a few puffs.

  “But you’re an excellent guide,” Sindra interjected. She was holding her cup in both hands and she leaned forward, drawing closer to the Forester. “Please, Jezlen. I…I already told the temple we had a guide–”

  “Wait, you told the temple you had it arranged but you didn’t?” Sindra’s face looked as if it were blushing though Derk could hardly tell. Now he knew why she didn’t want him to come along. One of the reasons, at least. “Did Asa know this?”

  Sindra shook her head slowly, staring into her cup. “I was fairly certain I could get him to agree. Jezlen, you have to understand, I know you aren’t a follower but it is important. And you do live in the Valley, where the Goddess reigns. Please?”

  Jezlen dropped a fritter back onto the plate, making a sour face at them. “These are terrible. Their food is not good.”

  “Aren’t you going to answer her?” Derk wanted to leap over the table and shake Jezlen but it probably wouldn’t do any good. Plus, there was the issue of the elf wearing armor and having a weapon. Jezlen looked to Derk and sighed.

  “I will do it. He is right. I have nothing else better to do.” He looked to Sindra. “And even though you are family, you are still good to me.” Sindra smiled at Jezlen as he puffed on his pipe again, exhaling a cloud of fragrant smoke. The band started to play louder, ready to start. “But I want to be paid in goods, not money.”

  “Of course,” Sindra said, looking into the pitcher and seemed disappointed when she found there was no more beer. She looked to Derk and smiled, the same serene happiness taking over her features again. “Would you like to have another pitcher before we head back?”

  “I was thinking we could dance,” Derk offered, a little too hopefully for his taste. A few more notes eased over the patrons and Derk stood up, offering Sindra his hand.

  “You should dance,” Jezlen said, smoking his pipe and leaning back in his chair. “You never allow yourself to have fun.” Sindra glared at Jezlen and looked at Derk, walking around her nephew and placing her hand in Derk’s. Before she could ask him Jezlen groaned, waving them off with his hand. “Yes, I will be here when you are done dancing. Go. Leave me alone.”

  Derk led Sindra up to the dance floor and wrapped his arm around her waist, glad to hear the band was starting with a ballad. The song was She Left me, Cord in Hand. He much preferred the dances in taverns and barns and dance halls, two people touching one another and dancing as they liked to whatever was played. Sindra was almost as tall as he and felt light in his arms, allowing herself to be led around the dance floor.

  “Your nephew’s.…” Derk let his voice trail off, not sure what to say and not sure why he brought it up.

  “He’s a stupid fapper is what he is,” Sindra offered, breathing out. She laughed and she seemed to relax under his touch, her face brightening in the dimmed bar. Derk laughed along with her, glad to see her not looking sad. “You have to understand,” she said, laying her head on his shoulder. “He had a rough start, Jezlen. He had to leave home when he was very young. Something happened to him, before he came to the Valley. ”

  “But you still trust him to get us into the Freewild and back?” He felt her nod against his shoulder. The music lolled and played and Derk inhaled the scent of moonflower on her hair and her skin, felt her pressed against him. As they turned to the music he saw Jezlen, smoking his pipe and watching them, his eyes glinting in the lantern light. Derk made a rude face at him but Jezlen remained impassive and Derk shook his head. “If you trust him, I’m fine,” he decided to say. “Though I don’t know how he’ll get on with the others.”

  “They’ll get on,” Sindra said, lifting her head and looking up at him. Their eyes met and Derk felt his face grow warmer, wondering what Sindra was thinking. In a way he had helped her get her nephew to come along, hadn’t he? It had to be worth something. Sindra pressed her lips together and Derk was surprised to see her look unsure of herself, almost ashamed. “Please, don’t tell the others about this. That I didn’t have the guide all set up.”

  “As long as he shows up in two days at the temple, there’s no reason to tell them,” Derk said. “Even if he doesn’t show up, I wouldn’t tell them. Make him look bad. Or rather, worse.” The song ended and for a few breaths the dance floor bustled as people took their leave or came to dance as the band played the first few counts of the next song over and over. An uptempo song. Derk let his hold loosen on Sindra but didn’t let go. “One more?”

  “I’m not usually one for the fast ones,” Sindra admitted, but she didn’t pull away. Derk let his hand slide down to the small of her back and laced his fingers in hers. The last of those who wished to dance came to the floor and the band began their lively tune, sending the dancers spinning about the dance floor. Derk led and Sindra followed, laughing at a misstep but finding their place. The dance picked up in tempo and by the end the pair of them were laughing and falling over each other, Derk pulling Sindra away from the rest of the dancers to spare them their crashing about.

  “It was a valiant effort,” Derk laughed as they walked back to their table, pushing past those headed to dance. Sindra shook her head pushing her hair back to show her pointed ears.

  “I told you I don’t normally do the fast ones,” she said, sliding into her seat. There was a full pitcher on the table but all the fritters were gone, Jezlen still smoking and eying the both of them.

  “What, would you like to go for a dance?” Derk grinned at Jezlen, pouring himself a fresh drink. “You’ll have to wait, I’m a bit tired from your aunt stomping me.”

  “I wasn’t so bad, was I?” Sindra wrinkled her nose at Derk.

  “Not the worst, but you definitely need practice. I can help with that.” A gulp of beer was exactly what he needed and he drank from his cup, looking over the top at the priestess. If she didn’t like the idea, she didn’t show it on her face.

  “As much as I love being in this bar surrounded by strangers, I think I am going to go,” Jezlen said, standing. Derk wasn’t sure how to feel about the Forester’s departure but Sindra looked disappointed.

  “Are you sure, Jezlen? You can stay in the temple with us.” She sounded hopeful, sitting up straighter in her seat.

  Jezlen just gave her a look, a look saying the idea was ridiculous and they both knew it. “I will be at your temple before first watch in two days. I give you my word.” He cast his gaze at Derk and didn’t smile. He looked slightly confused, Derk thought.

  “I look forward to working with you,” Derk said before Jezlen could say anything. Now the elf definitely seemed confused and he shook his head, picking up his pack and slinging it over his shoulder.

  “If you say so,” Jezlen said. He nodded at Sindra and then turned and left, slipping past the other patrons of the bar. They both watched his departure, pulling up his hood before he exited the bar.

  CHAPTER 7

  Early Rewards

  Derk cla
pped his hands as the singer finished, a few other members of the audience applauding. He and Sindra had made their way up to the dance floor a few times though she pulled away at one point, the song too fast for her skill level. He heard her laugh and excuse herself. Without missing a beat Derk grabbed a skinny lad who looked like he wanted to dance, finding the young man flustered at first but they soon fell into the song, laughing and trying to figure out who was leading. Derk led and when the song was over Derk humored him and the laughing crowd with a bow, walking back over to where Sindra sat, her hands over her mouth as she laughed.

  The music was winding down, the pitcher was empty and the greasy food cold. “I guess we should head back?” Sindra shrugged, looking at the grease covered plate. Another song started up, a slow song, and the singer sang in a clear, pretty voice. Derk finished his beer and nodded.

  “Aye, I don’t want to miss Asa’s cooking,” he said, standing up and offering her his arm. Sindra took it and they walked out of the Last Stop, the music from inside following them down the street. As they walked, Derk danced a bit, making Sindra laugh. “I like when you laugh,” Derk confessed, smiling at her. The priestess smiled back, looking at him out of the corner of her eye.

  “You’ve a talent for making people laugh, it seems,” she said. “And Asa says you’re good in a fight. And you can dance.”

  “I’m also a great singer,” he insisted, making her laugh again. “I’ve got a good memory. I can recite ‘The Graces and Deeds of Our Holy Goddess’ from start to finish.”

  “Which version?” Sindra asked, her interest obviously piqued.

  “The one by Sister Hila of the Temple of the First Quarter,” Derk bragged. He had loved those stories since he was a child.

  “Really?” Sindra seemed impressed. “Most people don’t like it, because of the language. It’s a bit archaic.”