Bearers of the Black Staff: Legends of Shannara (34 page)

“The boy has never lied to me before,” Trow Ravenlock said quietly. “I doubt that he does so now. Tell us, Pan. Does the Gray Man speak for you, too, in this matter?”

Panterra nodded quickly. “He does. Everything he says is true. I was there; I saw it. Some of it, I told him myself.”

Ravenlock looked back at Pogue Kray. “That’s good enough for me. If the Seraphic and I are willing to look further into this, you should be willing to do so, too.”

Pogue Kray shook his head, still doubtful.

“What have you got to lose?” Sider asked. “Send men up into the pass and see what you find there. If the protective barrier is down, you have your answer and can do what’s needed about the rest of it. Doing nothing is what puts you at risk.”

The big man looked at him, studied him carefully, but not in a good
way, and then finally nodded. “I will look into it. Maybe you do speak the truth, although I question if that is possible.”

Sider said nothing, but Panterra could tell that the antagonism between them had as much to do with Aislinne as it did with the news the Gray Man had brought. Their rivalry might be buried in the past, but Pogue Kray had unearthed it and set it out for everyone to view.

The Gray Man turned to Skeal Eile. “I want your word that neither you nor any of your followers will harm either Panterra or Aislinne for their part in all of this. If they have done anything to offend, put the blame on me. I encouraged it.”

The Seraphic managed a shocked look. “I have already admitted my failings and promised that I would stand by you. That oath includes the boy and the woman. I give you my word that both are perfectly safe from any who serve or follow the teachings of the Children of the Hawk. I will see to it that my word is kept.”

Something about the way he said it was immediately troubling to Panterra, much the way his attitude in all of this had been. But on the face of things, the oath seemed straightforward enough, and Sider apparently took it to be so, nodding in satisfaction.

“Very well,” he said. He looked at the other two. “The boy and I will spend the night and leave in the morning for Calling Wells, Porterria, and Mountain View. We will warn the people there, their leaders and councils, and ask them to send you armed help. Two have small armies, as you know, which can stand with you against the Trolls. Will you send word to the small villages while I’m gone?”

“I will see that it is done,” Trow Ravenlock said, apparently thinking to speak for all of them. “You needn’t worry.”

They probably
did
need to worry, Pan thought, but this was the best they could hope for.

Good nights were exchanged in an uneasy parting, and the boy followed the Gray Man out the door and into the dark.

T
HEY HAD GOTTEN ONLY AS FAR AS THE EDGE
of the surrounding trees when Aislinne caught up with them. “A moment, Sider,”
she said, bringing him around to face her. “Panterra, stand over there and wait on us.”

She pointed to one side, and the boy walked over obediently and turned his head away.

“What did you tell Pogue about running after me like this?” Sider asked at once.

She gave him a look. “Not everything that passes between us is about you, Sider. Pogue understands this, even if you don’t. I told him that I needed to apologize to both Panterra and you for the way you were treated. I told him that this was in no way a threat to him and he should not take it so—that he and I are married and that whatever was between you and me was over and done with a long time ago. He accepts that.”

Sider felt a sharp ache when he heard her speak those words, but he understood the need for them and simply nodded.

“What I want to say to you has nothing to do with an apology,” she continued. “You require no apology; you knew what you were getting yourself into, as you mostly always do. But I want to remind you of what I said earlier. Leave Panterra alone. Let him live his life. Do not think to make him your apprentice. Don’t try to take him away from Prue. He is not ready for that and neither is she. Find another apprentice or let the matter be until one comes along. I mean it, Sider. I am warning you.”

He shook his head. “I wouldn’t have thought that matters would ever come to this, Aislinne. Warnings are not required. We have always understood each other better than that. What’s done is done between us, but I still read you like a Tracker can read a trail sign. I still know what’s in your heart. Your caution is noted. Do not presume further.”

She gave him a long, searching look. “I rather doubt you know as much as you think. I would guess you know almost nothing of me, even now. But I will take it that my warning is understood and you will act accordingly.” She seemed about to say something more, then shook her head. “Good luck to you.”

She started to turn away, then hesitated and looked back again. “Be careful, Sider. I do not trust Skeal Eile’s word. You might have noticed
that he did not give a promise of safety to you, only to Panterra and me. And I don’t trust even that.”

She walked away quickly, back toward the house, and he had to fight down the urge to go after her and claim her and take her away with him once and for all. But that ship had sailed a long time ago, and so he beckoned to Panterra and disappeared into the trees.

“S
EE HOW THEY TALK WITH EACH OTHER?
” Skeal Eile whispered. He was standing close to Pogue Kray, close enough to feel the heat of the other’s anger as he watched his wife with the Gray Man. “See how they incline their heads so that they are almost touching?”

Trow Ravenlock was already gone, anxious to get back to his Trackers, already thinking ahead to what he must do on the morrow. But the Seraphic had lingered, sensing an opportunity.

“She has said it is nothing,” Pogue Kray replied without conviction.

“She would say that, wouldn’t she? I warned you, Pogue. I said she was duplicitous. I said she does not hold you as close as you believe she does. Now this.”

The big man had not looked away once from the scene at the edge of the trees and did not do so now. “I believe her,” he said.

“Your sense of loyalty is admirable.” Skeal Eile let the moment pass, watching as the two former lovers parted and Aislinne started back toward the cottage. “Well, duty calls. Much needs doing yet this night.”

He went out the door swiftly, moving down off the porch and turning away from the approaching woman, heading toward the center of the village. He had done as much as he could to sow the necessary seeds of distrust in Pogue Kray. The rest would have to wait. He could sense the big man weakening, growing doubtful, less confident of his wife’s fidelity. He would continue to doubt her, even though he would hate himself for doing so, and would eventually cease to trust her altogether. The Seraphic would see to that. As her credibility with her husband waned, Aislinne Kray would become more vulnerable and ultimately cease to be a threat. All of which would permit him to pro
ceed with his newly revised plan for domination of the valley’s populace without interference from either of the Krays.

But all that was for later. More pressing matters needed his attention just now.

He hurried on through the night, bypassing the main roadways in favor of the more obscure paths, anxious not to be recognized. Soon he was across the village and approaching its outskirts, the houses fewer and population sparser. He was replaying in his mind Sider Ament’s words, considering how they impacted his plans, grateful that he had known in advance that the Gray Man and the boy were coming, that he had been prepared for them and able to think through carefully in advance the nature of his response.

Every setback brought fresh opportunity. It was so here. He need only make use of his skill and experience to take advantage of it.

When he was deep in the trees, he slowed, pacing himself, gathering his thoughts anew, wanting to be careful now, to be cautious. He did not want to reveal what he was feeling—the excitement, the euphoria, and the intense sense of possibility that fed his ambitions. Not to the boy, his killing tool.

He reached the dilapidated cottage, walked up to the sagging porch, and stopped. The old man was nowhere in sight, and the cottage was as dark and silent as ever. Yet there was someone inside; there was always someone inside. Even the old man, blind as he was, kept watch in his own way and would know Skeal Eile was there.

But it was the boy who appeared this time, coming silently through the doorway to greet him. “Your Eminence,” he said, his smile bright and expectant. “Did things go well for you?”

“You know of the meeting, then?”

The smile widened. “Tell me something of what was said, won’t you?”

Skeal Eile ignored the question. “It was helpful of you to advise me of their coming. It makes it so much easier for me to forgive you for your failure to carry out your assignment in Arborlon.”

Bonnasaint shrugged. “Sometimes patience is the only alternative to disaster. I did what I could. My disguise as an old woman got me close to their quarters, but not to them. They were away from the city
when I arrived and remained gone for several days. When the boy returned, he was alone. The girl never did reappear. The boy was always in the company of others, including the King of the Elves. He stayed but one night, and then he was gone again. An opportunity that would have allowed me to perform my special services never presented itself. My apologies, again, if you are displeased.”

Smooth and diffident, as always. Skeal Eile inclined his head. “I am in no way displeased. Matters have taken an unexpected turn, one that makes it wiser to let the boy and the girl live. They will cause no further trouble. The failure of the protective walls and the appearance of this Troll army require that I take a fresh approach. The Children of the Hawk are threatened, but in being threatened they are also offered an unexpected chance to enhance their standing and thereby my own among the citizens of the valley. It requires only a few nudges and a little luck for this to happen.”

“You are ever vigilant in finding both,” Bonnasaint observed, arching a perfectly formed eyebrow. “What is my role in advancing your special interests, Eminence?”

“My interests and yours run roughly parallel, Bonnasaint.” He gave the youth a broad smile. “In the sense that I still have people who are obstacles to my efforts and you still have skills for removing such obstacles, nothing has changed. I still require you.”

Bonnasaint executed a perfect bow, a graceful sweeping motion of one arm together with a downward cant of his slender body, an act of deference that could not be mistaken. “I am yours to command.”

“Then listen carefully. The Gray Man and the boy travel south from Glensk Wood to the larger villages to enlist support for our own citizens. They do my work for me, although they do not realize it. They set the stage for my ascension as leader of all the peoples of the valley. The Races will be persuaded to stand with me when it matters, although ultimately it will be for purposes of my own. Do you see?”

The boy shrugged. “You seek to increase your hold over them?”

Skeal Eile smiled indulgently. Bonnasaint knew just enough to appreciate the opportunities, but cared nothing for the reasons. It was one of his best qualities. “The teachings of the Children of the Hawk are the way and the life. No other considerations or causes must be al
lowed to diminish those teachings or my own stature as leader of the sect. Simple enough.”

“As you say,” the other acknowledged. “It is an honor to serve you, a privilege.”

“It is your calling, Bonnasaint. It is your destiny.”

The other inclined his smooth, boyish face. “What is it you require of me this time, Your Eminence?”

“A great sacrifice, Bonnasaint. A great risk that might cost you your life if you are the least bit careless. For I intend to give you a challenge that no other would even dare consider. Does the idea suit you?”

There was a momentary pause as the boy regarded him. From within the cottage, the soft cackle of the old man wafted through the silence. Listening, of course. Always watching over his talented son. “Father,” the boy said, an admonishing edge to the word. He kept his eyes fixed on Skeal Eile, and the latter could tell that the hesitation was born not of uncertainty, but of a desire to savor the moment.