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

by Tristan J. Tarwater

  “Let’s get there already then,” Tender said, digging his heels into the side of his horse. Little made a chirping sound and his horse and Tender’s took off, starting to trot down the road before breaking into a canter. Tavera tried to remember what Little had said. She gripped the horse’s mane and tried to relax, making the same clicking sound with her tongue. The horse lurched forward and then began to speed after the others, going more quickly than Tavera would have liked. As the trio rounded the bend, the town came into view. The thought of dismounting made it easier for Tavera to bear the riding.

  Little slowed his horse as they approached the entrance to the town, part of a wall and two brown-cloaks standing to either side of the road. Tavera ducked her head and tried to look inconspicuous. Her cap was in her saddle bag and she wished she could pull it over her hair and ears, at least for the moment.

  “Who comes through, and from where?” the first guard asked. He was a freckled fellow with a shaved head and a red beard. “Freewilders, from the looks of it.” He looked back at the other guard, a younger, dark-haired fellow. He looked so young, Tavera felt sure his mother packed the food he chewed as quickly as possible, trying to get his midday meal down.

  “Freewilders, but only recently,” Tender said. Little had arrived first but of course, Tender did most of the talking. “From Whitend. I’m Braxton Tender of that town, the barkeep. We buy our incense for the temple here, in trade for beer. Perhaps you’ve partaken of it? Though you’re new guards, right?”

  “New to the post but not to guarding,” the red-bearded one said. “Freewilders, eh?” He looked them over with blue eyes. Tavera watched his cloak flutter in the breeze, the hilt of his sword, the pinch of his helmet under his chin. He was still wearing his winter cloak. He’d probably been there since first watch and was tired, ready to take a break. “There’s a gate tax,” he said. “Half a blueie for each of you.”

  “How can you have a gate tax when you don’t have a gate?” Tender scoffed. Both the guards stood up straighter, standing closer to the road.

  “We’re going to have a gate,” the younger one said. “As soon as we can.”

  “As soon as you get enough people to pay the gate tax, eh?” Tavera muttered, holding on to her horse’s reins. The red-bearded one looked her way but she just kept her head down, eyes on the dark, ebony mane of her horse.

  “Well, gate or not,” Tender said, “I’m here on church business and church business is exempt. Been this way in Ayilkin for the last ten years.”

  “Are you a member of the clergy?” the red bearded one asked. “You don’t look the part.”

  “His tits are too small,” the young one laughed.

  “Just pay them,” Little hissed. “Please.”

  “No,” Tender said, looking to Little. “Our priestess was kidnapped in the dead of night by evil strangers and these two would have our blues? I won’t pay and if they make us, may the Goddess have mercy on their souls, on these two who would hinder our way for a bit of blue! No gate will keep out Her judgment.” Tender eyed the two guards from his seat, a dark eyebrow cocked at the pair of them. “Now, let us pass.”

  For a breath Tavera thought they would let them go, her good ear perking up at the possibility. But the young one stepped forward, swaggering as he stared up at Tender. “What proof do we have you’re here on church business?”

  Tender slid down from his saddle and approached the two men. He was obviously taller than the younger one and more confident than the red-bearded one. Tavera watched as he gave them both his most sincere smile and took the hands of the red-bearded one. “Then may the Goddess have mercy on my soul if I am lying about Her wishes to get out of a well-meaning tax.” He smiled and slapped him on the shoulder before taking up the reins of his horse. “I used to be a brown-cloak myself so I understand. You’re just doing your job. No one is blaming you. But we’re here on church business and we know it’s your job to respect that. Right?”

  “And they’re with you?” the red-bearded one said, looking to Little and Tavera.

  “Naturally, yes,” Tender said. “Now please, let us pass. Every breath we spend standing here trying to figure out if I’m lying or not is putting our priestess in more and more danger.”

  “If you’re from the Freewild, your priestess don’t fall under the mantle of the Church,” the dark-haired one said, sounding pleased with himself.

  “Just pay them!” Little hissed again. “Please, Tender, you’re not even a real priest!”

  The look Tender shot Little made Tavera turn her head to the side, trying to keep back the laugh. Tender’s attempt to get them through the gate had almost worked. Little didn’t look ashamed though Tender looked like he might cause his brother bodily harm. Tender quickly turned to the two guards, who now looked on the three of them suspiciously.

  “I’m not ordained,” Tender admitted, his hands gesturing as he spoke. “I’m the assistant to our priestess, and my mother, our mother,” he said, pointing to Little, “served the church for many years before she went to be in Her bosom. It doesn’t change the fact that our priestess, Sister Kella, a priestess of the Blessed Mother, assigned to the town just beyond your future walls just eight years ago, was taken from us by a strange man in…in very grave and cult-related business…” Tender paused. Tavera watched; he was trying to gauge the reactions of the guards. “She needs our help. We are going to the church to seek out that help. If we do not receive aid, I will be the one conducting services. Perhaps a service of the empty grave if you do not let us pass. By Her bosom,” Tender pleaded, “let us go through. We’ve come from Whitend for help. Please. Please.” Tender put his hands together. Tavera cocked an eyebrow at the barkeep, impressed. The two guards looked at each other for a moment.

  “We’ll let you pass,” the red-bearded one said finally with a sigh. “Sorry to have kept you waiting.” The red-bearded guard paused again before he shrugged. “Sister Kella said the prayer over my daughter on her Day of Blessing. I remember her. I’m sorry to hear she’s come to such misfortune. Do you know who did it?”

  “In a way,” Tender answered, looking back to Little and Tavera. “We’re hoping to get more information here. I’m hoping the priestesses here will have time for us.”

  “For such a concern, I’m sure they will,” the red-bearded one said. “Please, pass through, though, no riding in the town itself. You must lead your horses through the streets.”

  “Of course,” Tender said. Tavera slid down from her horse in relief, keeping the reins in her hands.

  “And we’ll need your names just the same,” the dark-haired guard said. He pulled out a book and pen, setting it on a log meant to serve as a table. The book itself was new, just started since the last Baron’s Day, Tavera guessed. All the people who had entered through on the main road to this town would be in that book.

  “Right, I am Braxton Tender,” Tender said. “And this here is my brother, Herix Tender.” He watched as the dark-haired guard carefully wrote the names into the book. “And the woman is Point.”

  “Point?” the dark-haired man asked. Both of the guards looked to Tavera, obviously a bit confused.

  “Point,” Tavera said simply.

  “Po…int…” the dark haired man wrote, giving her a strange glance as he finished. Tavera felt her face grow hot but she kept from showing any embarrassment or second-guessing. She should have thought of another name, she thought to herself. She could have said Point was her family name. Point wouldn’t last as long as it should if Tavera gave it out at every gate. Little finally dismounted from his horse.

  “And how long will you be here?” the red-bearded man asked.

  “A day, at the most, we hope,” Tender said. “We want to talk to the priestesses at the temple get a few provisions and then head out. Time is of the essence, unfortunately.”

  The dark-haired guard opened a drawer and pulled out three wooden passes. The red-bearded man pulled out a wax pen and wrote on them, handing one to Ten
der first. Tavera took hers and tucked it away. “You know how these work,” the red-bearded guard said. “Try not to get them wet. Some pubs won’t sell to you if you don’t got a pass, so keep them on you.”

  “Sounds rude,” Little said. Tavera thought the whole deal sounded suspicious but kept quiet. Not having a pass probably meant having a fine levied as well, she guessed. More money for the magistrate’s coffers.

  “We probably won’t be out drinking,” Tender said.

  “Speak for yourself,” Tavera chuckled, starting to lead her horse toward the city.

  “You should check out the Verdy Arch,” the dark-haired guard said, stepping back as the three of them led their horses past the guard posts. “Best fruit ale this side of the Holy Bowl.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that,” Tender scoffed.

  “If you leave through the east gate for some reason, be sure to give them your passes on your way out!” the red-bearded one called.

  “We know how passes work!” Little shouted back at them. “To Her hems with them,” he growled. “They just became the last town of Ayilkin a few months ago. They sure took to it quickly! Acting like we don’t know how to enter a town properly.”

  “Settle down, Little,” Tender chided, leading his horse alongside him.

  “Let him boil over,” Tavera said. “I like it. It’s nice to hear him talk for once.” Little shot a glance at her that was supposed to make her shut up. Instead she laughed. “You hardly said a thing the whole way here. Some fapper with a beard calls you a Freewilder, your pants come off.”

  “It’s because he was born in the Freewild,” Tender whispered, obviously trying not to laugh.

  “Don’t tell her that, Tender!” Little hissed. “Shut up!”

  “Oh, what’s this?” Tavera asked, raising an eyebrow. “Is it true? Was you born in the Freewild?” The look on Little’s face gave away the truth. “That explains a lot.”

  “It wasn’t my fault,” Little muttered. “I’d no say in the matter.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Tender mused, the three of them continuing down the street, passing the first homes of the town. “Mam went into the Freewild to oversee the vows of a few people. The only reason she went was because she was sure she had a few phases to go before you came. Lo and behold, as I stood by the town post on the day she was to be back, she never showed, not that day, nor the next. On the third day the town began to speak on sending someone out to find her when in the distance a cart showed up. In the cart was my mam and the ugliest baby I ever did see.”

  “Braxton, I hate you,” Little huffed.

  “Lies,” Tender said, wagging a finger at his brother. “You love me. In any case, it seems he couldn’t wait to get out. Must have been the Freewild air, calling to him.”

  “I do hate you, Braxton,” Little growled again, though Tavera thought she could see a bit of a smile tugging at his mouth. Tavera was laughing by now too, enjoying the story.

  “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me,” Tavera chuckled. “I ain’t one to judge.”

  “Aww, you’re no fun,” Tender said. “I was hoping you’d help me poke fun at Herix.”

  “If I was going to make fun of him for something, it’d be over something he had something to do with,” Tavera said. “There’s plenty there, just give me some time to warm up to him.” She grinned at Little, who looked less thrilled to hear it before she looked up and down the main street. “So, where’s the temple?”

  “It’s this way,” Tender said. “To the right, just a ways down.”

  “They’ll keep our horses for us,” Little mumbled. “Their stable is well cared for.”

  “And where’s the closest tavern?” Tavera asked, drawing an amused look from Tender.

  “What for?” Tender asked. “You planning on going out for a drink?”

  “No, I’m planning on having a meal,” she said, looking over the shops on the main street as they guided their horses toward the temple.

  “We can eat at the temple,” Tender boasted. “Church business gets church food. The Goddess provides for those who do her work. If Sister Mereel is in the kitchen still, you’re in for a treat.”

  “Not really here for treats, Tender,” Tavera murmured. Her horse stopped suddenly in the middle of the street and Tavera had to pull on its reins to get it moving again. “Let’s just ask the right questions and head out. We can make good time into the Freewild without riding too hard.” She almost regretted admitting it. A hard ride to anywhere wasn’t what Tavera wanted but why waste time in the town if they could get to the priestess with time to spare?

  “I’d like to get to Kella as soon as possible as well,” Tender said. “But these are ladies of the cloth. We can’t just swoop in and demand answers. And we aren’t expected. They might be busy.”

  “Too busy to answer questions that would save a fellow sister’s life?” Tavera scoffed. “Tender, I hope you’re joking. We’re in more than a bit of a coop here. If the Sister’s can’t see to help us out, we need to figure out another plan.”

  “They’ll help us!” Tender insisted. “They will. I’m just…a little….”

  “He thinks you’re going to embarrass him, I think,” Little said.

  “Is that so?” Tavera said, narrowing her eyes. Tender’s face reddened slightly, even his ears. He looked more like Little when he was embarrassed. Tavera looked to the temple: a modest, whitewashed building with stairs leading to the round double doors. “You think I don’t know how to talk to a priestess? Or sit in a pew? I’ve probably talked to more priestesses than you, Tender, just so yo--”

  “Braxton!” Tavera looked up. A priestess stood at the top of the stairs, her long gray robes sweeping the floor. Her dark, curly hair was pinned back to show her face and ears, the wide neck of her vestments showing off her shoulders. Tavera noted the pretty rosary around her neck, the color in her cheeks, the way she looked into Tender’s eyes. “What brings you here?” the priestess asked, smiling. The young woman looked to Little and then Tavera. “Who’s this?”

  “I’m Point,” Tavera said. “And we’re here on very serious business, Sister. It’s urgent; can you tell us where your High Priestess is?”

  “The High Priestess?” the woman said. She frowned slightly. “She’s in Greenmere, visiting another temple. Why?” she asked, turning her face back toward Tender. “Is everything alright?”

  “Greenmere?” Tender groaned. “That’s a hard ride from here.” Tender sighed. “Do you know when she’ll be back, Cera?”

  “She’s not due till the end of the phase,” Sister Cera said. Her thin brows knit with confusion. “Why, what’s happening? Sister Pega is acting as the head while she’s out. If you need church supplies, we can get them.”

  “It’s not supplies we need,” Little said. “Sister Kella has been abducted.”

  “What?” Sister Cera said. Her face went pale, disbelief in her eyes. “Abducted? Are you sure?”

  “Very,” Tavera said. “I was there when she was taken, Sister. Me and Tender tried to stop him but Sister Kella’s abductor was….” She tried to think of the right word. Her memory went back to the sickle, the hard, red sheen on its curve, the strange lights and the dream. She couldn’t think of a way to explain it without sounding unsure of herself. “He was very strong,” Tavera said. It was true. She’d seen the way he hit Tender, how he seemed unaffected by Tender’s blows. Tender was no slouch in a fight. Tavera still hadn’t made sense of it. Perhaps the man called Cy had powers which made him stronger as well? “He took her on his horse and rode with her into the Freewild.”

  “We need the High Priestess,” Tender said. “She knows more about Sister Kella than anyone else. She must know something about this, something that can help us.”

  “I can send a message to Greenmere for her, but I don’t know how quickly the High Priestess will get here,” Sister Cera said. “She is in Greenmere for a dissemination.”

  “Well, if she don’t get back, we
’ll be doing a dissemination for Sister Kella and no one really needs that much liquor,” Tavera quipped. “Let some other living person take care of the already dead and let’s avoid adding to their numbers.” Tavera shot a glance at Tender; he looked slightly embarrassed. Cera looked panicked. Good. “Please, Sister, do what you must. We only have six days.”

  “I’ll send the message and then have Sister Pega come and see what she can do for you in the meantime,” Cera said, nodding to herself. “Even if the High Priestess can’t come back, I’m sure she can give us access to what you’ll need to find her.” She smiled at Tavera, a hopeful smile. “In the meantime, take your horses around to the stables. I’ll meet you in the courtyard.” Sister Cera took Tender’s hand. Tavera watched the look that passed between them. Little looked away, suddenly more interested in the horses. “I’m sorry you’re having to deal with this,” Sister Cera said.

  “Not as sorry as Sister Kella, I’m sure,” Tender said. He let go of his horse’s reins and placed his other hand on hers.

  “I’ll be back with Sister Pega as soon as I can,” Sister Cera said. Her hands lingered on Tender’s before she left, blushing slightly as she slipped away, heading to the front of the temple.

  “Let’s get these horses in the stable,” Tender said. Tavera smirked at him, Tender frowning in response. “What?”

  “Nothing,” Tavera said. “I’m glad we have such a capable woman to help us.”

  Tender nodded, grabbing his horse’s bridle. The three of them started walking toward the stables, Little leading the way. “Sister Cera’s a good priestess. She’s been here three years.”