Bearers of the Black Staff

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 discovered 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?”

“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.”