Valley of the Soul

Chapter One "Mama!" Haydon called from near the window. "There's horses on the road! Fancy ones!" "That's nice." Arien sat at her kitchen table, trying to make sense of the drawing in the old book before she had to leave to work at the sanatorium. She'd never learned to read, but she didn't think that mattered, at least not with this book. It was full of pictures, detailed illustrations in colored ink. Even if she couldn't understand the words, she recognized the things they represented. "Mama!" Haydon pulled on her skirt and she looked down to see him on the floor, balanced on one hand while his legs dragged uselessly behind him. "Horses, Mama! You have to come see!" She sighed as she stood and scooped him up. "Horses come by every day, Haydon." Haydon wrapped his hot arms around her neck. "Not quarry horses! Nobles' horses! Three pretty ones, all brushed and shiny! With fancy saddles!" Balancing him on her hip, she pulled the curtains. Sure enough, there were three fine horses prancing away down the road. "Well, I'll be." The three noblemen pulled their mounts to a stop and dismounted near Constable Marsden, who stood not far down the road. One was old and limped a little as he walked, but following him was a tall, slender young man with a purposeful stride. The third man dwarfed the other two combined and Arien sucked in her breath as he lumbered around the horses. "Dien?" she whispered, leaning close to the open window. "Who are they, Mama?" Haydon asked. "Men from the castle," she said, watching the old man follow Calder Marsden into the ravine. The young man and Dienshe was certain it was him, even after almost six summersstopped to talk to a nearby group of villagers and quarry workers. "Can we go outside and see the horses? Please?" Arien hesitated for a moment, then felt Haydon's forehead. Still too warm, but she hated to disappoint him. "Of course we can, sweetie." Dubric knew the scent of death. He had known it for most of his life, the low stench that permeated his clothes, sometimes his very skin, settling into his pores like a thick oil clotted with grit and dust. Death's gassy breath was a stain he could never wash away, could never escape even if he wanted to, just as he could never escape his ghosts. Below, on a flattened bit of ground, Calder Marsden, constable of Quarry Run, stood beside the burlap-wrapped remains, frowning. Marsden flicked away a swarm of flies then grimaced and spat. His pleasant face, stubbled from a long and trying day, looked slightly off color. To the best of Dubric's knowledge, Marsden had never seen a mutilated corpse before, even if it was merely a sheep. "It's here, Lord Byerly," Marsden said, glancing at the carcass as Dubric caught his breath. "At least the part I've found. Second one this phase." Half hidden by an elderberry bush, a sheep's rump and haunches lay mostly intact, partially wrapped in burlap and tied with twine. Some of its flesh had been chewed away and parts of its intestines strung into the brush. Maggots roiled over the exposed meat and other insects crawled over the burlap and bloody wool. Dubric ignored his arthritic knees as he knelt beside the remains. Up close, the reek from days of rotting in late spring heat made his eyes water. Flies landed on his face and he shooed them away. "Have any more sheep been reported missing since you sent word to the castle?" "Yes, milord Castellan. Four of them." "And you have found several like this?" Dubric pulled a pair of thin sheep-gut gloves onto his burn-scarred hands, positioning the stitched seams over his knuckles. He prepared to dictate his findings then pJones, Tamara Siler is the author of 'Valley of the Soul', published 2006 under ISBN 9780553587111 and ISBN 0553587110.