Bearers of the Black Staff: Legends of Shannara (33 page)

Panterra Qu nodded doubtfully. “But he believes in the teachings of the Children of the Hawk, as well. I don’t know.”

“Well.” The word was a sigh of resignation. “We have to start somewhere.”

“I’ll go now.” Aislinne stood. “Panterra, there’s food in the kitchen. Go in and have something to eat and drink. Sider, I would speak with you alone for a minute.”

She took him outside without further explanation, closing the door tightly behind them. She stood on the porch without looking at him for a moment, staring out into the night, but seeing something else entirely. Then she took him down the steps, across the yard, and into the shadows where they could not be easily seen. All around them, the village was dark and silent. Even the lights in the windows were beginning to disappear.

When she turned to face him, there was no friendliness in her eyes. “Why did you bring Panterra back with you?”

The question took him by surprise. “He’s seen things I haven’t; he brings another perspective and another voice to the discussion. I thought it would help.”

She gave him a sardonic smile. “You are such a poor liar, Sider. All you say is probably true, but that isn’t why he’s come with you. I don’t need you to tell me the reason, either. I can see it in your eyes, in the way you look at him. You want him for yourself. You’ve decided he’s the one.”

Sider hesitated, considering a lie. Then he gave it up. Not with her, he decided. “That’s true. But he doesn’t know it yet; I haven’t spoken to him. I have no way of knowing what he will say.”

She stepped close. “I know that boy. And the girl who partners with him. They aren’t exactly like you and I once were, but close enough that I won’t let you do this. Separating them would be worse than what you did in separating us. Do you realize what they mean to each other?”

He shook his head. “I know hardly anything about that. I only know what he makes me feel, and what he makes me feel is why I plan to speak to him.”

“I forbid it!” she hissed sharply.

“It isn’t your place to do that.” The words were out before he could
think better of them, too late to take back. “Aislinne, I don’t want this, either. But if I am killed in this business, in this transition from the old world to the new, that boy will be needed to take the staff and go on. There must be someone to follow after me.”

“Then find someone else.”

He shook his head. “I haven’t time for that. I haven’t even got a place to start. I’ve been looking all these years, waiting, but there’s been no one. Now I have to—”

“Stop.” She spit out the word as if to rid herself of its bitterness, one hand lifting to emphasize her wish to silence him. “No more. I have to go. But we aren’t finished. Do you understand me?”

He took a deep breath. “All too well. I’ll wait on you. I can promise that much.”

She stared him down, and then nodded. “I’ll bring you your audience. Practice your speech to them while you wait. And practice one to me, as well.”

Then she was gone.

W
HEN SIDER CAME BACK INSIDE THE COTTAGE
, Panterra Qu could feel the anger radiating off him. The Gray Man’s face was rigid with it, and his posture warned against saying anything. So Pan sat quietly, ate the food he had found in the kitchen in the cold box, and waited for the anger to dissipate, the familiar calm to return.

After a while it did. “That looks good,” Sider offered absently.

He rose, disappeared into the kitchen, and returned with a plate of his own. He ate hurriedly, obviously anxious to finish before Aislinne and the men returned, saying nothing further to Pan.

But when he was finished and had returned his empty plate to the kitchen and lowered himself into a chair across from the boy, he said, “Are you ready for this?”

Pan nodded. “What do you think will happen?”

The Gray Man shook his head. “No one will be happy to see us, Skeal Eile least of all. But they will stay and listen because they will know that our being here means we have something important to tell them. They’ll listen, but maybe they won’t believe. It depends.”

“I guess it does,” Pan agreed. He thought about it for a minute. “What will you do about Skeal Eile?”

Sider Ament shrugged. “That depends, too. If I don’t like what I see in his eyes, I’ll have to reconsider my thinking. Otherwise, I’ll seek a promise of unconditional support in front of the other two. That sort of public oath carries weight. Since we won’t be staying, we won’t be at much risk. It’s Aislinne who should worry.”

“Aislinne seems able to take care of herself,” Pan said. “And she has friends besides us who can protect her.”

The Gray Man nodded and looked away, his gaze drifting toward the curtained windows and the night beyond. “She was always resourceful.”

Panterra wanted to ask him about Aislinne, wanted to know more. There was a history between the two that went way back; any fool could tell as much. He wanted to know what that history was. But he knew that asking would be wrong and likely brushed aside. He would have to wait and hope that at some point Sider Ament would choose of his own volition to talk about it.

They waited in silence then, listening to the night’s deep stillness, searching for sounds that would signal the coming of the others. It was not long before they heard footsteps and accompanying voices. Those approaching did not do so cautiously or with any indication that they knew who was waiting inside. Pan heard Pogue Kray’s deep voice rumble in sharp cadence to Trow Ravenlock’s quieter tones. But he did not hear Skeal Eile or Aislinne, and wondered if something had happened.

The door opened and both speakers stepped inside, drawing to an abrupt halt the moment they saw Panterra and Sider. Aislinne and Skeal Eile followed, Aislinne entering last and closing the door firmly behind her.

“What is the meaning of this, Aislinne?” her husband asked at once, never for a moment turning away from the two visitors, his dark eyes angry.

“We have a nice piece of trickery at work here, Pogue.” Skeal Eile offered a guarded smile, but his voice was smooth and pleasant. “Your wife possesses depths of deception still unplumbed, it seems.”

Only Trow showed any semblance of calm, giving Sider a nod and saying to Pan, “How are you, Tracker? We miss you and your partner. Have you come back to stay?”

Ignoring the others, Aislinne moved to the front, turning to face her husband. “I did not tell you who waited because you would not have come and it was important that you did. If you hear them out, I think you will agree with me and forgive me my deliberate omissions.”

Pogue Kray glowered at her. “Sometimes, you step too far over the line with me, Aislinne. You should not presume—”

“I see no harm in hearing what they have to say,” Skeal Eile said suddenly, cutting the other short. “We’re here, after all. What harm can come from it?”

And right away, Panterra knew that something was amiss. For the Seraphic to be this calm suggested he was not altogether surprised to find them there, and that was troubling. No one should have known they were coming. No one should have been prepared for this.

But maybe it was simply the Seraphic’s discipline and training that allowed him to give this impression, and he was simply disguising his real feelings beneath a façade of apparent calm.

In any case, there was no time to find out. An argument between Aislinne and Pogue Kray was pushing everything else aside.

“I don’t like being deceived!” Pogue Kray snapped, his eyes flicking dark with anger. “Especially not by my wife! I expect better than that from her!”

“Any deception in this business exists only in your mind!” Aislinne replied quietly.

“Tricking me into this meeting does not count as deception?”

Sider Ament suddenly stepped between them. “Instead of attacking Aislinne, perhaps you would do better to listen to what I have to say.”

“Keep your opinions to yourself, Gray Man!” the other snapped, coming forward to meet him. “You and your black staff, thinking you can do whatever you wish. Think again! I don’t need to listen to anything you have to say, not now and not—”

“Perhaps it would suit you better if I simply left and you found out on your own that the protective wall you all believe in so strongly is broken and an army of thousands waits just on the other side of
the pass at Declan Reach. Perhaps you would prefer to tell what’s left of your people after that army destroys the village, kills the men, and makes slaves of the women and children that this was all Aislinne’s fault. Perhaps they will understand your refusal to speak with me about it now. Perhaps. I won’t be there to find out, however. Come, Panterra.”

He pushed past Pogue Kray and moved toward the door. After a moment’s hesitation, a stunned Panterra followed in his wake.

“Sider, wait!” Trow Ravenlock moved to block his way. Smaller than the other, he stood defiantly in place before him. “Don’t go. Tell him to stay, Pogue.”

The big man stood frozen in place, silent.

“Tell him,” Skeal Eile advised quietly. He gathered his white robes closer about him and lifted his head slightly to emphasize his insistence. “This is no time for soothing your injured pride by acting the part of the child. We need to know what he’s talking about.”

Again, the voice of reason, and again Panterra felt the wrongness of it. But he avoided looking at the other, keeping his eyes averted.

Aislinne walked up to her husband, stood directly in front of him, and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I did what I thought needed doing to get all of you in this room. Now, please. Listen to Sider.”

Pogue Kray took a deep breath. “All right, Aislinne.” He turned about to find Sider facing him. “Speak, then. We will hear whatever you have to say on this.”

It cost him something to do that, and Panterra thought he paid it mostly because of what he felt for Aislinne. It might have cost Sider Ament something, as well, and it was Aislinne who had exacted the price from him, too.

“Here is what the boy and I know,” Sider began without preliminaries, still standing by the door, facing them. “We have been through the passes at Declan Reach and Aphalion and seen for ourselves that the protective walls are down. A handful of Elves went with us, and they know this, too. The outside world is open to us, and we are open to it. There are dangerous things out there, and some of them have already come into the valley, as the boy has told you. More of them are coming.”

Then he told them of the Troll army under Taureq Siq and of Panterra’s encounter of several days earlier, leaving out only the part about Prue’s capture. He simply told them that the boy, once it was discov
ered who he was and where he was from, was released to come back and ask for a meeting between the Maturen and the leaders of those who lived in the valley. He added that the Drouj were migrating in search of a new home, and it might well be that Taureq Siq believed that this valley, with its mountain walls and natural defenses, would provide him with what he needed.

“I think they will try to force their way in if we refuse them entry. I think they intend to take the valley away from us. We have to prepare for this, without reliance on the barriers that have kept us safe, and we have to do so now.”

Trow Ravenlock cocked an eyebrow at Panterra. “You told them where we were, Pan? You gave them that information willingly?”

The boy flushed at the rebuke. “I was a prisoner and under threat of being harmed. I didn’t know their intentions at the time. I didn’t even know that they were migrating.”

“It isn’t his fault; they would have discovered the truth easily enough without his help. You should be grateful that he had the presence of mind to deceive them as to your strength of numbers and preparedness.” The Gray Man brushed the comments aside. “Concentrate your thinking on what’s needed now. The three of you are the leaders of this community. The boy and I have chosen to come to you first because the danger to Glensk Wood is greatest. If the Trolls look to come into the valley, they will come through either Declan Reach or Aphalion. The Elves will set defenses at the latter; you should think of doing the same here.”

“We have no army,” Pogue Kray pointed out. “We have no skills or training at organized fighting. What can we do?”

“Whatever is needed.” Sider Ament held his gaze. “Others will come to help you once they know of the danger, but while you wait for help to arrive you had better do what you can to prepare yourselves. Fortify the pass. Use your Trackers to show you how; they have training and skills. But if you just sit here …”

He trailed off and shook his head.

“You make your point.” Skeal Eile looked around the room, measuring everyone. “If there were to be an objection to all of this, it should come from me. What Sider Ament says is a blasphemy on the teachings of the Children of the Hawk. But I say nothing against him.
It is clear he believes what he says and has seen what he claims. I was wrong to doubt him, and I am sorry for my mistake. We must rethink our beliefs—no one more than myself. I acknowledge this. I believe still that the Hawk will return when it is time, but until then he expects us to help ourselves. Gray Man, as Seraphic of this and many other villages I defer to you and to your best judgment in how this should be handled. I stand ready to help.”

As if things couldn’t possibly get any stranger than they already were, Panterra thought. Skeal Eile offering to help Sider Ament? Acknowledging that his teachings might be wrong? It was insane.

“My Trackers and I stand ready as well,” Trow Ravenlock added, clearly spurred by the commitment from Skeal Eile. “Pogue, surely the council will rally behind us?”

For a long moment, Pogue Kray was silent, glowering at nothing in particular, his head lowered, his shoulders hunched. He looked to be a fighter in search of an opponent, not knowing where to find one. He seemed worn out, suddenly reduced in size in spite of his bulk. He shifted his gaze from one of them to the next, quick looks that refused to linger, as if he were dismayed.

“I don’t know what to think,” he said finally. “We have no proof of any of this. We have only the word of the Gray Man and this boy, who is already under a cloud of suspicion. How is it that we should believe either?”