By the time he reached the front of the building he was trembling and breathing hard. Not with fear now, but with a sudden, terrible anger.
Why should his people suffer this? Why should he have to creep around in his own city like a criminal, in fear of branding, imprisonment, or death?
He moved out onto the deserted road and looked up at the palace on the hill, sick with loathing. For as long as he could remember the palace had been the headquarters of the Shadow Lord. Before that, his friends had told him, the king of Deltora had lived there, in luxury, and the palace was almost hidden by a pale, shimmering mist. But when the Shadow Lord came, the mist completely disappeared. Now the palace could be seen clearly.
Though Lief’s parents had made him study the history of Deltora from its earliest days, they had told him little of the time just before he was born. They seemed to fear speaking of it. They said the Shadow Lord had spies everywhere, and it was best to keep silence. But Lief’s friends were not afraid, and they had told him a great deal.
They had told him that the last king, like the rulers before him, had cared nothing for the people, and done nothing to serve them. King Endon’s only task had been to guard the magic Belt of Deltora. But he had been weak, lazy, and careless. He had allowed the Belt to be stolen. He had opened the way to the Shadow Lord.
The king was dead, Lief’s friends said. And a good thing, too, Lief thought savagely, as again he hurried for home. The king deserved to die for the suffering he had brought to his people.
He reached the fields and began to run, crouching low, hiding himself in the long grass. A few minutes more and he would be safe. Already he could see the lights of home winking dimly in the distance.
He knew he would be in trouble for being so late and that there would be questions asked about the rope he carried. With luck, though, his mother and father would be so relieved to see him that they would forgive him quickly.
They cannot send me to bed without food, at least, Lief thought with satisfaction, scuttling across the road and plunging on towards the forge. They said they wanted to talk to me about something tonight.
Briefly he wondered what that something was, and smiled at the memory of how serious his parents had looked when they had spoken of it.
He loved them both very much, but no two people could be more ordinary, timid, and quiet than Jarred and Anna of the forge. Jarred had limped badly ever since he was injured by a falling tree when Lief was ten. But even before that, he and Anna had kept very much to themselves. They seemed content to listen to the tales of wandering travelers who stopped at the forge, rather than seeing life for themselves.
Lief had not been born until after the time of darkness and terror that had marked the coming of the Shadow Lord. But he knew that many in the city had fought and died and many others had fled in terror.
Jarred and Anna had done neither of these things. While all around them confusion and panic reigned, they stayed in their cottage, obeying every order given to them, doing nothing to attract the anger of the enemy. And when the panic was ended and dull misery had taken its place in the city, they reopened the forge gates and began work again, struggling only to survive in their new, ruined world.
It was something that Lief himself could never have done. He could not understand it. He was convinced that all his parents had ever wanted in their lives was to stay out of trouble, whatever the cost. He was certain, absolutely certain, that nothing they had to say could surprise him.
So it was only with relief that he ran through the forge gates, dodged the beggar Barda, who was making his slow way to his shelter in the corner of the yard, and rushed through the cottage door. Excuses were ready on his tongue and thoughts of dinner were filling his head.
Little did he know that before another hour had passed everything was going to change for him.
Little did he know that he was about to receive the shock of his life.
Stunned by what he had just heard, Lief stared at his father. It was as if he were seeing him with new eyes. “You once lived in the palace? You were the king’s friend? You — I cannot believe this! I will not believe it!”
His father smiled grimly. “You must believe it, my son.” His fists clenched. “Why else do you think we have lived so quietly all these years, tamely obeying every order given to us, never rebelling? Many, many times I have been tempted to do otherwise. But I knew that we had to avoid drawing the enemy’s attention to us.”
“But — but why have you never told me before?” Lief stammered.
“We thought it best to keep silent until now, Lief.” It was his mother who had spoken. She stood by the fire looking at him gravely.
“It was so important, you see, that no word reached the ears of the Shadow Lord,” she went on. “And until you were ten your father believed that he himself would be the one who would go to seek the gems of Deltora, when the time came. But then —”
She broke off, glancing at her husband sitting in his armchair, his injured leg stuck stiffly out in front of him.
He smiled grimly. “Then the tree fell, and I had to accept that this could not be,” he finished for her. “I can still work in the forge — enough to earn our bread — but I cannot travel. And so, Lief, the task is left to you. If you are willing.”
Lief’s head was spinning. So much that he had believed had been overturned in one short hour.
“The king was not killed after all,” he mumbled, trying to take it in. “He escaped, with the queen. But why did the Shadow Lord not find them?”
“When we reached the forge the king and queen made themselves look like ordinary working people,” his father said. “In haste we discussed the plan for escape while outside the wind howled and the darkness of the Shadow Lord deepened over the land. And then we parted.”
His face was furrowed with grief and memory. “We knew that we might never meet again. Endon had realized by then that by his foolishness and blindness the people’s last trust in him had been destroyed. The Belt would never again shine for him. All our hopes rested with his unborn child.”
“But — how do you know that the child was born safely and is still alive, Father?” Lief blurted out.
His father heaved himself to his feet. He took off the old brown belt that he always wore at his work. It was strong and heavy, made of two lengths of leather stitched together. He cut the stitching at one end with his knife and pulled out what was hidden inside.
Lief caught his breath. Sliding from the leather tube was a fine steel chain linking seven steel medallions. Even plain and without ornament, it was still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
He longed to touch it. Eagerly he held out his hands.
“I mended it, making it ready to receive the gems once more, before I hid it away,” his father said, handing it to him. “But so closely is it bound to the blood of Adin that it would have crumbled into pieces if the heir was no more. As you see, it is still whole. So we can be sure that the heir lives.”
In wonder, Lief gazed at the marvelous thing in his hands — the dream Belt made by the great Adin himself. How many times had he read of it in The Belt of Deltora, the small, pale blue book his father had given him to study? He could hardly believe that he was actually holding it.
“If you agree to go on the quest, my son, you must put the Belt on and never let it out of your sight until it is complete,” he heard his mother say. “Are you willing? Think carefully before you answer.”
But Lief had already made his decision. He looked up at his waiting parents, his eyes sparkling.