Bearers of the Black Staff: Legends of Shannara (41 page)

It was late when she rolled into her blankets near a fire they had built for her, the mountain air cold and the wind gusting through the pass. She was tired enough to begin drifting off right away, even though she was still thinking about the reason that the Trolls were making no effort to search for a way through the mountains. Odd, she kept repeating to herself, that they should come so near Aphalion Pass and then do nothing to find it.

If Arik Sarn were there, perhaps he could explain it. She thought of him sitting in the gardens and drawing flowers, and it made her smile. He was pretty odd himself. He would understand the behavior of the Drouj and Taureq Siq better than any of them.

She had almost fallen asleep when the first hint of the answer she had been searching for came to her as a sharp-edged possibility that until that moment she had never considered. Doing so now, she went cold all the way down to her bones.

Within seconds she was shaking Tasha and Tenerife awake.

T
RUE TO HIS WORD
,
ON REACHING GLENSK WOOD
at midday two days earlier, Sider Ament left Panterra behind and continued on alone for Declan Reach. He took time to reassure the boy that he would do whatever was necessary to recover Prue safely from the Troll camp and would bring her back as quickly as possible. He could read the dissatisfaction and frustration in the boy’s face. The boy wanted to go with him and be a part of whatever rescue effort he intended. But Sider had already determined that it would be more dangerous for all three of them if the boy came along and would add nothing to have him there.

“Just do as I asked you,” he repeated. “Tell Aislinne what has happened and make sure your report reaches Pogue and the other members of the village council. Confirm that the effort to fortify the pass is under way and if for some reason it isn’t, do what you can to change that. Wait for me there if you wish; I’ll come through on my return.”

Then he was gone, moving quickly away, fading into the trees and not looking back.

He walked the remainder of the day, ascending the steeper mountain slopes toward Declan Reach. By nightfall, he had reached a place at the upper edges of the thinning woods where he could see the entrance. He considered entering the pass itself. In the black silence of the night, he could hear the murmur of voices and see the dim flicker of fires burning within the cut. Someone was camped there, presumably those who had been sent to begin work on the fortifications, and he could have joined them. But he was by nature solitary, and he preferred to keep his own company.

So he stayed where he was, finding a spot where he could make his camp and keep watch. He ate his meal cold, did not start a fire, and long before midnight had wrapped himself in his cloak and blanket to ward against the night’s chill and was asleep.

His sleep was deep and dreamless, the first time in a long time, and he woke refreshed and reassured that he was doing the right thing. He hadn’t told the boy, but he had a plan. It wasn’t fully formed and it depended on the efforts of someone other than himself, but he believed it had a chance to work. Without it, in any case, there was probably little hope for the girl. He had not shared any of this, not wanting to give the boy anything further to think about, hoping his efforts with the fortifications would help take his mind off the matter.

Probably that wouldn’t happen, he acknowledged. Probably there was no diminishing the pain of what he was going through.

He departed at sunrise for the pass, gratified to discover that a sizable workforce was in the process of constructing the needed fortifications, a mix of Trackers and builders under the command of Trow Ravenlock. He stopped long enough to make a quick report to the Tracker leader and to reassure himself that Skeal Eile was not doing anything to interfere with his efforts at summoning help from the other communities, and then he moved on. Ravenlock wanted to know where he was going, but he said only that he was going out to scout the movements of the Troll army and left things at that.

He traversed the length of the pass and emerged into the outside world without incident. The landscape he remembered was unchanged, still a mix of barren rock and empty flats spreading away toward distant mountains west and patches of forest that mingled trees
both fresh with new growth and withered with death’s approach, all beneath skies that were clear and bright and sun-filled. He stood at the opening for a time, just studying the sweep of the terrain, watchful for anything that looked odd or threatening. He saw neither, and even though he knew there would be hidden dangers he felt he was better prepared for them this time.

But he would still need help with the girl.

He reached into the pocket sewn on the inside of his belt and withdrew the tracking device given him by Deladion Inch.
Just press the button until the red light comes on and I will know to come find you
, Inch had told him. Sider had not thought he would ever have need of summoning the big man, but he had kept the device safe anyway.

He pressed the button now, waited for the red light to come on, tucked the device back in his belt pocket when it did, and set out.

What he had remembered even before he recalled the tracking device was Inch’s claim to familiarity with the Troll tribes and their movements. If nothing else, he would be able to tell Sider the best way to go about getting into the camp and finding the girl. He would likely know how they set watch and where a prisoner might be kept. Perhaps there were insignia on the tents that identified their usage. If Sider was very lucky indeed, the big man might even agree to help him get inside the camp by going with him. But he wouldn’t ask; that would be presuming on a friendship he wasn’t sure even existed.

Admittedly, it wasn’t much of a plan. But it would give him a better chance than anyone else, including the boy, of managing a rescue. Still, he had to act quickly. Only six days remained before the appointed meeting with Taureq Siq. Sider didn’t think the Troll Maturen would show much patience with his prisoner after that deadline expired.

He shook his head at himself. There were so many things that needed doing: rallying the defenders at Aphalion and Declan Reach, speaking with the different Races—he hadn’t gone to the Lizards or Spiders at all, leaving that to the Elves … 
But here I am, doing this instead. All because I promised Panterra Qu I would not abandon the girl, and if I am to have any chance of winning his friendship and trust, any chance of persuading him that he should become the next bearer of the staff, I must first prove that I can keep my word when I make a promise.

He walked on through the midday light, staying out in the open where he could see anything that approached and hopefully avoid the sort of ambush he had encountered the last time out, all the while moving in the general direction of Deladion Inch’s fortress keep. The terrain about him remained pretty much the same—bleak and ruined, stripped of grasses and trees, the earth still toxic from the Great Wars, stark and unwelcoming. Once, far off in the distance, he caught sight of a flat blue glimmer of water, a slender thread wending its way through the countryside, angling off into the haze west. But he couldn’t tell the condition of the water or its source. Here and there, clumps of trees grew as fresh and clean as they all must have grown at one time. But they were small islands amid an ocean of devastation, and the bulk of what the Gray Man saw showed little promise.

Once, not so far distant, he saw something much larger than himself shambling through a series of deep ravines, appearing and then disappearing like a mirage. But it was moving away from him, and after a while it was gone entirely.

He found himself wondering how the people of the valley would ever be able to acclimate and survive in this hostile environment. How could they adapt to what they would encounter when they had spent five hundred years closed away in a country where everything was naturally available and almost nothing threatened? He tried to envision how it would happen and failed. It would take new skills and hard-won experience to allow them to make the change. It would take a degree of cooperation and respect that was presently lacking. All the petty jealousies and rifts and differences would have to be bridged and healed.

He didn’t know if that was possible. Yet a way would have to be found if those brought out of the carnage of the Great Wars by the boy Hawk were to survive.

The hours slipped away, the afternoon crawling toward twilight, the bright orb of the sun advancing west in a sky that grew increasingly cloudy. Another storm was approaching, coming down out of the north. Sider checked the tracking device, worried that it might have failed. But the red light glowed steadily, so he kept moving ahead. He recognized almost nothing of the land he was traversing, but he carried a compass and his general sense of direction added to its readings
told him he was still maintaining his intended course. He just hoped he would get to shelter before sunset or rainfall.

He needn’t have worried. He was climbing out of a series of deep ravines toward a line of dead trees and scrub when Deladion Inch appeared above him, clad in the familiar black leathers and metal trappings, the equally familiar Tyson Flechette strapped across one shoulder.

“Sider Ament!” the big man called out in greeting. “Come on up!”

He stood where he was, hands resting on his hips and a bemused expression on his bluff face, watching as Sider finished his climb up the rise and joined him.

“Hello, again,” Sider greeted him in turn.

The big man looked him up and down. “Didn’t expect to see you again quite so soon. Not that I’m complaining, you understand. I can always use the company of a fellow mercenary. Oh, wait—you don’t like it when I call you that. A fellow practitioner of the art of war? Is that better? Well, whatever, I’m glad you came. My tracking device works pretty well, doesn’t it? Got your signal on my receiver, and it brought me right to you.”

He was rambling a bit, but Sider didn’t mind. He was just happy the other man had actually chosen to come find him. “Couldn’t have been easier,” he agreed.

“Well, then, we’re not far from the old homestead, so it won’t be any harder from here.” Inch glanced at the skies. “I would have reached you quicker than this, but I was out foraging, gone the other direction, and I had to retrace my steps. Sorry about that. Are you hungry?”

Sider nodded. “Thirsty, too.”

“Got the cure for both. Come along now, no further delays. Tell me what brings you back out again after I warned you that staying where you were was the better choice. Not that I thought for a minute you’d listen. But I feel an obligation toward those possessed of less common sense than myself. Come, come.”

He led the way down the backside of the rise and onto flats that stretched away through miles of ravines and scrub and ruined woods, chatting as they went about what he had been doing since Sider had last seen him. Mostly, he said, he had been working on repairs to the tunnel system in the ruins that served as his shelter while waiting for a
message from the tiny village south that had sought his services but was deliberating his price. He was animated and voluble, and he waved his hands with their missing fingers as he talked. Sider gave a mental shake of his head and wondered where all the energy came from.

It was nearing nightfall and the rain was just beginning to fall when they reached the ruins and climbed the stone steps to the rooms that Deladion Inch maintained for himself. They moved inside the buildings, navigating their corridors until they reached a room where there were chairs and a table set in front of a hearth. Within minutes, Inch had a fire going, the dry wood crackling and snapping cheerfully.

“Don’t you worry about smoke giving you away?” Sider asked.

The big man gave him a look. “Can’t worry about everything. In weather like this, it won’t be easy to sort out smoke from mist and rain in any case. Besides, no one could catch me in the maze of tunnels that honeycomb this place even if they wanted to. We’re safe enough, smoke or not. Glass of ale?”

They sat before the fire and drank down several glasses, not saying much, just enjoying the warmth and the company. Sider thought that he could live like this, cocooned away, protected from predators, able to come and go as he pleased. He might get the chance to find out since his days of warding the passes leading in and out of the valley were coming to a close.

“I need your help with something,” he said finally, setting aside his glass and leaning back.

The big man nodded. “Thought so.”

“Understand, I’m not asking you to get involved, only to give me enough insight into what’s needed so I might be able to avoid getting myself killed.”

Deladion Inch grinned. “In your case, Sider, that might take more than just a
few
insights. But go on, tell me.”

Sider nodded. “There’s a girl from the valley who’s being held captive in a Troll camp. She’s a hostage for something that isn’t going to happen, and I have to find a way to rescue her before the Trolls figure this out.”

“Sounds as if your valley sanctuary might not be so safe anymore. Too bad about that, but I warned you.”

“Too bad about a lot of things.”

Deladion Inch took a long pull on his ale. “What can you tell me about these Trolls? Do you know which tribe it is?”

“Drouj. Their leader is called Taureq Siq. They’ve got a camp north of here. They’re migrating, they claim, but once they found out about the valley they decided that maybe it might be the home they were looking for. They caught the girl and a boy who managed to get a little too close. A Troll visiting from another tribe made friends with the pair and got the boy out, but not the girl. So now I need to get the girl back. It’s more complicated than I’m telling it, but the rest doesn’t matter.”

“Not to me, anyway,” the big man agreed. “Taureq Siq, is it? Now, there’s a finely wrought piece of nastiness. Here’s what I can tell you. Taureq is not someone you can trust. The Drouj are the dominant Troll tribe in this part of the world. They’ve subjugated all the other tribes and made them accept Taureq as their Maturen. He’s got a serious problem with power, that one. Wants to dominate everything and everyone. If he gets into your valley, you better plan on finding a new home. You say he’s camped off to the north?”