Into the Wastelands: Book Four of the Restoration Series by Christopher Williams

albeit a zealot. Flare had no doubt that Thomas would cheer Flare’s death and then willingly allow himself to die.
    There had been a time when Flare had feared that he was a bit of an abomination and that perhaps he was the D estroyer that Kelcer had foretold. The problem was that he no longer believed that. It had been explained to him that the Kelcer prophecy was miss-understood. He now believe d that Zalustus was the D estroyer and it was Flare’s responsibility to restore the Dragon Order before Zalustus could. The problem was that the medallion was a bit of a hindrance.
    Shuffling noises came from behind him and Flare rolled over to see who was approaching . They had made camp in a small clearing that was surrounded by towering trees. The undergrowth was quite thick here and it was causing some problems for them as they worked their way south. However, it terms of the camp, the bushes and shrubs helped by shielding their camp from view. Flare lay off to one side. He was close enough to be seen by his captors, but not close enough to be warmed by their fire. The tops of the mountains rose above the trees to the east.
    One of the two soldiers approached him warily. Flare didn’t know either guard’s name and he really didn’t care. The strange monk, Thomas, was civil and he treated Flare with all the respect due a prisoner, but his two soldiers were neither civil nor respectful. When Thomas was in sight, the men ignored Flare. When Thomas was not to be seen, well, Flare’s body was covered with bruises and scrapes. A good number of the bruises had been caused by the soldier’s boots. Their anger towards him was understandable. After all, he had killed five of their comrades. If he had lost five of h is friends, then he would be – angry – as well.
    Thinking of his friends hurt, as it always did. He didn’t even know how many of them were still alive. And of those alive, he could only hope that none of them were rotting in a dungeon somewhere. How had things got so messed up? Despair threatened to crash down on him and he fought hard to remain hopeful. It wasn’t so easy anymore.
    His thoughts were interrupted by a hard kick to his right side. Flare grunted hard and looked up at the soldier who glared down at him. The sol dier was near thirty years old and that marked him as experienced. Fools died quickly in the army. Those that lasted long tended to be good at what they did. He had short brown hair and a week’s growth of beard. His clothes had seen better days and he even had some food stains down the front. The worst thing about him was his eyes. They looked black and dead.
    “Now listen up,” the soldier said. He kicked Flare again. “You cost us nearly four hours of daylight yesterday. Don’t try that sorcery bit again. Understand?” He paused but Flare didn’t reply. He kicked Flare hard again and said, “I asked you a question? Do you understand?”
    “ Jordan !” a voice called out sharply. Thomas strode into view. His eyes were hard and his hand rested on his sword hilt. The soldier, whose name was apparently Jordan , backed quickly away from Flare. Thomas stepped in between Flare and the soldier and he glared towards Flare’s tormentor. “I have told you not to torture the prisoner,” Thomas said slowly and quietly. There was an unmistakable deadliness in his tone. “Explain yourself.”
    Jordan dropped his eyes to the ground. “My lord. I was just trying to make sure he wouldn’t try to use any more sorcery. The delays are getting longer.” He kept his eyes on the ground while he spoke but there was a definite anger in his tone.
    “So,” Thomas said after a moment’s pause, “you are worried about the time it takes to get Kelcer’s D estroyer back to Telur? Tell me, would you like to explain to Dalin Olliston how you managed to kill the prisoner by kicking him to death?” Thomas paused again, but the soldier had gone pale at the words. “Dalin himself told me to bring him back