Valley of the Ancients: Book Three of the Restoration Series Read Online Free PDF

gulley when a form rose up behind the two soldiers. His mouth dropped open at the sight of Enstorion rushing the two men. "What the devil?" Something looked wrong. The elf's hands were a bright reddish orange. It reminded him of iron that was being worked by a blacksmith.
    Either the two men heard something or they saw the look in Keenan's eyes, because they started to turn but Enstorion reached them first. The elf reached out and grabbed the two men, one with his left hand and the other with his right.
    Immediately both soldiers screamed. Flames burst from the spot where Enstorion had touched them and the flames rushed across the soldier's bodies. The two men began to spin on the spot and one had the good sense to drop to the ground and roll around, but nothing they did had any affect. After a couple of moments, their screams stopped and they stopped moving, although they did continue to burn.
    Enstorion staggered back near the bushes. "Fool," he called to Keenan, "I cut the odds in half for you, but now it's up to you."
    Keenan blinked and looked around. The two remaining soldiers had not moved. They were standing there with their mouths hanging open, actually looking rather comical. With a sudden sense of embarrassment, he snapped his own mouth shut. He grinned then, they just might get out of this after all.
     
    He looked in Enstorion's direction and his blood seemed to go cold. "Behind you!" he shouted, but it was too late.
    Enstorion started to turn, but he never made it. The fifth soldier, the one who had continued along the length of the fallen tree, had finally arrived. He brought the hilt of his sword down hard on the back of Enstorion's head and the elf collapsed to the ground.
    The new soldier stepped over the elf's body. "Didn't think it would be that easy. Did you?" This new arrival was an older man, obviously a veteran. He was thicker through the middle than the other four soldiers and he had a grey beard. What little hair was left on his head had white spattered throughout. He bent down and picked up the rope snare that had been dropped by one of the two men that Enstorion had killed.
    Keenan cursed. He could not jump in the gulley now, not and leave Enstorion to these bastards but time was running out. He had to do something quick. He was just leaning forward on his toes, preparing to charge the older soldier before he could use the snare, when a new voice spoke out.
    "And what are you doing in the forest?"
    It was a woman's voice and it took Keenan a moment to locate the speaker. The woman stood on the edge of the clearing, halfway between the older soldier and the soldier on the northern side of the clearing. She was dark, with a wild mass of black hair. She wore a shirt and pants made from deerskin and had a sense of command about her.
    The older soldier paused, on the verge of spinning the rope over his head. "This doesn't concern you girl. Leave us while we'll still let you."
    "Oh, but it does concern us." Another voice said. This one was a young man's voice. The speaker stepped from the trees between the old soldier and the soldier on the southern side of the clearing. He was little more than a boy, scrawny and short, perhaps fifteen or so. His brown hair was long and stuck out at weird angles. Obviously the boy hadn't met up with a comb or brush in some time. His complexion was fairer than the woman's and he also wore a shirt and breeches made from deerskin.
    The old soldier laughed an unflattering laugh. "Woman, take your boy and go, or else we'll gut him and make you wish we had gutted you."
    The woman moved another couple steps into the clearing. She wore a knowing smile. "I don't like you much," she said, pointing her finger at the soldier.
    The old man took a step towards her and tripped over a vine.
    Keenan blinked. The old man hadn't tripped over a vine so much as the vine had wrapped itself around his leg. The vine was still tangling itself around the man's leg like a snake of some kind.
    The