“I am willing,” he said firmly. Without hesitation he clasped the Belt around his waist, under his shirt. It felt cool against his skin. “Where must I go to find the gems?” he asked.
His father, suddenly drawn and pale, sat down again and stared at the fire. “Preparing for this moment we have listened to many travelers’ tales,” he said at last. “I will tell you what we know. Prandine said that the gems were scattered, hidden in places no one would dare to find them.”
“That means, I suppose, that they lie in places people would be afraid to go,” Lief said.
“So I fear.” His father picked up a parchment from the table beside his chair and began slowly to unfold it. “Seven Ak-Baba were flying together around the palace tower on the day the gems were taken,” he went on. “They separated and flew off in different directions. We believe that each was carrying one of the gems, and each was going to one particular place to hide it. See here. I have drawn a map.”
His heart beating like a drum in his chest, Lief leaned over to look as his father pointed out one name after the other.
“The Lake of Tears,” Lief read. “City of the Rats. The Shifting Sands. Dread Mountain. The Maze of the Beast. The Valley of the Lost. The Forests of Silence …” His voice faltered. The very names filled him with fear, particularly the last.
The terrible tales he had heard of the Forests not far to the east of Del flooded Lief’s mind, and for a moment the map blurred before his eyes.
“Over the years, different travelers have told of seeing a lone Ak-Baba hovering above one or another of these seven places on the day the Shadow Lord came,” his father was saying. “They are where you must search for the gems, we are sure of it. Little is known of them, but all of them have evil reputations. The task will be long and perilous, Lief. Are you still willing?”
Lief’s mouth felt dry. He swallowed, and nodded.
“He is so young!” his mother burst out. She bent her head and hid it in her hands. “Oh, I cannot bear it!”
Lief spun around to her and threw his arm around her neck. “I want to go, Mother!” he exclaimed. “Do not weep for me.”
“You do not know what you are promising!” she cried.
“Perhaps I do not,” Lief admitted. “But I know that I would do anything — anything in my power — to rid our land of the Shadow Lord.”
He turned from her to look back at his father. “Where is the heir?” he demanded excitedly. “That, at least, you know for certain, Father, for you suggested the hiding place.”
“Perhaps I did,” his father said quietly. “But I must not endanger our cause by telling you of it. The heir is powerless without the Belt, and must remain in deepest hiding until it is complete. You are young and impatient, Lief, and the road ahead of you is hard. You might give way to temptation and seek out the heir before your quest is done. I cannot risk that.”
Lief opened his mouth to argue, but his father held up his hand, shaking his head. “When the gems are all in place the Belt will lead you to the heir, my son,” he said firmly. “You must wait until then.”
He half smiled as Lief sighed with frustration. Then he bent down and drew something from under his chair.
“Perhaps this will cheer you,” he said. “It is my birthday gift to you.”
Lief stared at the slender, shining sword in his father’s hand. Never had he expected to own such a blade.
“I made it on our own forge,” his father said, giving the sword to him. “It is the finest work I have ever done. Care for it well, and it will care for you.”
As Lief nodded, spluttering his thanks, he be came aware that his mother, too, was holding out a gift. It was a finely woven cloak — soft, light, and warm. Its color seemed to change as it moved so that it was hard to tell if it was brown, green, or grey. Somewhere between all three, Lief decided at last. Like river-water in autumn.
“This, too, will care for you, wherever you may go,” his mother whispered, pressing the cloak into his hands and kissing him. “The fabric is — special. I used every art I knew in its making, and wove much love and many memories into it, as well as strength and warmth.”
Her husband stood up and put his arm around her. She leaned against him lovingly, but tears shone in her eyes.
Lief looked at them both. “You never doubted that I would agree to go on this quest,” he said quietly.
“We knew you too well to doubt it,” his mother answered, trying to smile. “I was sure, as well, that you would want to start at once. Food and water for the first few days of your journey are already packed and waiting. You can leave within the hour, if you wish.”
“Tonight?” gasped Lief. His stomach turned over. He had not thought it would be so soon. And yet almost immediately he realized that his mother was right. Now that the decision had been made, he wanted nothing more than to begin.
“There is one thing more,” his father said, limping to the door. “You will not be alone on your quest. You will have a companion.”
Lief’s jaw dropped. Were the surprises of this night never to end?
“Who —?” he began.
“A good friend. The one man we know we can trust,” his father answered gruffly. He swung the door open.
And, to Lief’s horror, into the room shuffled Barda, the beggar.
So, Lief,” Barda mumbled. “Are you not pleased with your companion?”
Lief could only stand gaping at him.
“Do not tease him, Barda.” Smiling, Lief’s mother moved to her son’s side and gently touched his shoulder. “How could Lief know you are other than you appear to be? Explain yourself!”
Barda pulled off the ragged cloak he wore, letting it fall to the floor at his feet. Underneath the cloak his garments were rough, but clean. He straightened his shoulders, pushed back his tousled hair from his face, tightened his jaw, and lifted his head. Suddenly he looked completely different — tall, strong, and many years younger.
“I also lived in the palace, when your father and King Endon were young, Lief,” he said, in quite a different voice. “I was the grown son of their nursemaid, Min, but they did not know me, or I them. While they were at their lessons I was already in training as a palace guard.”
“But — but all my life you have lived outside the forge,” Lief stammered.
Barda’s face darkened. “I left the palace on the night my mother was killed. I knew that I would suffer the same fate if I stayed. My guard’s uniform helped me to trick my way through the gates, and I came here.”
Lief swallowed. “Why here?”
“Fate guided me, I believe, as it had guided Jarred before me,” Barda answered quietly. “It was deepest night. The cottage was in darkness. I hid myself in the forge and slept. When at last I stirred, many hours later, it was day, though it did not seem so. A terrible wind was howling. Only half awake, I stumbled outside and saw four strangers by the gate. I know now that they were Jarred and Anna hurrying the king and queen away, but then I knew nothing.”
He glanced at Lief’s father. “Jarred was rather startled to see a palace guard lurching towards him,” he added dryly. “He greeted me with a blow that put me back to sleep for quite some time.”
Lief shook his head, hardly able to believe that his gentle father would strike anyone.
“When I woke again I found that Jarred and Anna no longer feared me,” Barda went on. “While I was unconscious I had rambled aloud of my grief and fear, so they knew who I was and well understood the danger that threatened me. They knew I was a friend.”
“So we did,” murmured Lief’s mother. She turned to Lief. “We told Barda who our visitors had been. We asked for his help in seeking the lost gems of Deltora when the time came.”