The Forests of Silence

With a cry, Sharn hurried to her husband’s side, gently helping him to rise. He stood, swaying, the empty, ruined Belt clutched in his hands.

Dull despair settled over Jarred. What he had feared had come to pass. The enemy had triumphed.

There was a low, mocking laugh behind him. Prandine was standing in the doorway. In his long black robe he looked as tall and bony as ever, but it was as if a mask had fallen from his face. The grave, serious expression had gone. Now, greed and triumph lit his eyes and cruelty twisted his thin mouth.

“So, Jarred, you have risen from the dead to try to interfere once more,” he snarled. “But you are too late. Soon, very soon, Deltora will bow beneath my Lord’s shadow.”

Wild anger surged through Jarred. He lunged forward, his sword aimed at Prandine’s heart. In an instant, the sword burned white hot. He dropped it with a cry of agony, his hand seared and blistered.

“You were a fool to come here,” spat Prandine. “If you had not, I would have gone on believing you safely dead. Now you are doomed, like your idiot king, his little painted doll bride, and the brat she carries.”

From his robe he drew a long, thin dagger, its wicked tip glowing sickly green.

Jarred backed away from him, fighting back the pain from his injured hand, trying desperately to think. He had no wish to die, but he knew that at all costs he must save Endon, Sharn, and their unborn child, the heir to the throne of Deltora.

“We are too many for you, Prandine,” he said loudly. “While you struggle with one, the others can escape.” He wondered if Prandine would realize that this was not just a challenge to him, but a message for Endon. While I distract him, take Sharn and run!

But Prandine was laughing again, kicking the door shut behind him. “There will be no struggle,” he jeered, moving forward. “The poison on this blade is deadly. One tiny scratch and the end comes quickly. As it did for your mother and father, King Endon.”

“Murderer! Traitor!” breathed Endon, pushing Sharn behind him. “You have betrayed your king, and your land.”

“This is not my land,” sneered Prandine. “My loyalty, like the loyalty of the chief advisors before me, has always been to another place and to a far greater master.”

He looked at Endon with contempt. “You are the last in a line of royal buffoons, King Endon. Little by little we robbed your family of power until you were nothing but puppets moving as we pulled the strings. And then, at last, the time was right to take your last protection from you.”

He pointed a bony finger at the tangled chain in Endon’s hands. “Finally, the blacksmith Adin’s accursed work has been undone. The Belt of Deltora is no more.”

“The gems cannot be destroyed,” Endon said through pale lips. “And it is death to take them beyond Deltora’s borders.”

Prandine smiled cruelly. “The gems have been scattered far and wide, hidden where no one would dare to find them. And when you and your unborn brat are dead, finding them would be no use in any case.”

The room darkened and thunder growled outside the tower. Prandine’s eyes glowed with triumph. “The Shadow Lord comes,” he hissed.

Cowering against the wall, Sharn moaned softly. Then she seemed to hear something. She sidled to the open window and looked out — not up to the black sky but down to the ground below the tower. The next moment she had jumped back, covering her mouth with her hand as if to smother a shriek.

“What is it?” snarled Prandine, suddenly alert.

Sharn shook her head. “Nothing,” she stammered. “I was mistaken. There is no one there.”

Oh, Sharn, even a child could tell that you are lying! thought Jarred desperately. Thanks to you, whoever has come to help us is doomed.

“Stay where you are or she dies at once!” barked Prandine to the two men as he crossed the room.

Sharn shrank away from him as he reached her. “Do not look out! There is no one there!” she cried again.

“So you say,” Prandine sneered. He thrust his head and shoulders out of the open window.

And in the next instant Sharn had crouched behind him, thrown her arms around his knees, jerked his legs back and upwards, and tipped him over the sill.

Jarred and Endon, frozen with shock, listened to their enemy’s screams as he plunged to the hard earth far below. They both stared, astounded, at the small figure turning from the window to face them.

“Often, in the great hall, I have watched little clowns upset big ones from below,” Sharn said calmly. “I did not see why the trick should not work for me.”

“What — what did you see from the window?” Jarred stammered.

“Nothing. As I told him. But I knew he would not trust my word.” Sharn tossed her head. “And I knew he would lean out. Why should he fear a little painted doll like me?”

Jarred gazed at her in frank admiration, then turned to Endon. “You are as fortunate in your bride as I am in mine,” he said.

Endon nodded slowly. He seemed dazed.

Thunder growled outside, threatening as an angry beast. Black clouds edged with scarlet were tumbling towards the tower.

“We must hurry to the tunnel,” Jarred said urgently. “Come quickly!”

The palace was echoing with frightened voices as they ran down the stairs. The people were waking to darkness and terror.

“I have brought them to this,” moaned Endon, as they reached the chapel door. “How can I leave them?”

“You have no choice, Endon,” panted Jarred. “Your family must survive or Deltora will be lost to the Shadow Lord forever.”

He pushed Endon and Sharn into the chapel and closed the door behind them. “We will go straight to the forge,” he said, hurrying towards the tunnel entrance. “There we will think what we should do.”

“We must flee the city and find a place to hide,” said Sharn.

But Endon’s hands tightened on the tangled handful of steel that had once been the Belt of Deltora.

“I cannot run and hide!” he burst out. “I must find the gems and restore them to the Belt. Without them I am helpless and Deltora is doomed.”

Glancing at Sharn’s worried face, Jarred took his friend’s arm. “The gems must be found, but you cannot be the one to find them, Endon,” he said firmly. “The Shadow Lord will be searching for you. You must stay in hiding and wait.”

“But what if I die before the Belt is whole again?” Endon argued desperately. “It will only recognize Adin’s true heir. It will only shine for me!”

Jarred opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it. Soon enough Endon would realize for himself that he had lost the last trust his people had in him. The Belt of Deltora would never shine for him again.

But Sharn had moved quietly to her husband’s side. “Do not forget, my dear,” she murmured. “Our child will also be Adin’s heir.”

Endon stared at her, open-mouthed. She lifted her chin proudly.

“If the Shadow Lord can be patient, so can we,” she said. “We will hide ourselves away from him for now. But it will not be for fear of our own lives, as he will think. It will be to keep our child safe, and to prepare for the future.”

She stroked his arm lovingly. “Years will pass and we may die, Endon,” she said. “But our child will live after us, to reclaim the kingdom and lift this evil from our land.”

Jarred’s heart swelled at her courage. And at that moment he himself found the courage to face what he must do.

Endon had gathered Sharn close to him. “You are indeed a precious gift,” he was murmuring. “But you do not understand. Without the Belt our child cannot defeat the Shadow Lord. The gems —”

“One day the gems will be found,” Jarred broke in.

They turned from each other to look at him. “We will discuss this further at the forge,” he said rapidly. “For the moment, remember that now that Prandine is dead, no one knows that you have a friend outside the palace. The Shadow Lord will not suspect that a humble blacksmith could be a threat to him.”

“You will go now, to find the gems?” whispered Endon.

Jarred shook his head. “I would not succeed now, any more than you would do, Endon. Our enemy’s servants will be watching the gems’ hiding places for signs that they are in danger. But in years to come the Shadow Lord will begin to believe that he is safe and the watching will become less. Then, and only then, the quest can begin.”

He held out his uninjured hand to Endon. “After this day we may not meet again in this life, my friend,” he said in a low voice. “We will be far apart, and who can tell what will become of us in the dangerous times ahead? But one day the gems will be found and the Belt will be restored. It will be done.”

Endon took the hand in both his own and bowed his head. Then, suddenly, the walls of the chapel trembled as though the palace had been struck by a great wind.

“We must go!” Sharn cried in alarm.

As he helped her climb into the tunnel entrance, Endon turned to Jarred. “You say we must run, that we must hide, but where can we go?” he asked in a trembling voice.

“With the Shadow Lord will come a time of confusion and darkness,” Jarred answered grimly. “Many people will be roaming the countryside, neighbor will lose sight of neighbor, and life will not be as it was before. The confusion will aid us.”

“You have thought of a place?” whispered Endon.

“Perhaps,” muttered Jarred. “It will be dangerous, but if you are willing, the chance is worth taking.”

Endon asked no more, but followed his wife into the tunnel. Jarred climbed after him, pulling the marble tile back into place over his head so that no one could tell where they had gone.

As the last of the light from the chapel was shut out and blackness enfolded him, he thought of Anna and his heart ached.

The life they had known had been hard, but they had been happy. Now all this was ended. Fear and trouble were coming — long years of waiting while Deltora groaned under the yoke of the Shadow Lord.

And only time could tell what would happen then.