Part 14 (1/2)
He led them past the patrol to where the roadway branched right and from there into a building that housed a large eating hall filled with benches and tables. A handful of the tables were occupied by Dwarf Hunters absorbed in their evening meal. A few glanced up and nodded to Foraker, but no one this time showed any particular interest in the Dwarf's companions.
Apparently it made a difference whom you were with, Jair thought. Foraker chose a table for them well back against one wall and signaled for food to be brought.
”What am I supposed to do with these two?” the Dwarf asked when they had seated themselves.
Garet Jax turned to his companions. ”Direct sort of fellow, isn't he? He was with me ten years ago when I was training Dwarf Hunters for a border skirmish along the Wolfsktaag. He was with me again in Callahorn a few years back. That's why I'm here now. He asked me to come, and he doesn't take no for an answer.”
He looked back at Foraker. ”The Valeman is Jair Ohmsford. He's looking for his sister and a Druid.”
Foraker leaned back frowning. ”A Druid? What Druid? There aren't any Druids anymore.
Haven't been any Druids since...”
”I know-since Allanon,” Jair interjected, unable to keep still any longer. ”That's the Druid I'm looking for.”
Foraker stared at him. ”That right? What makes you think you'll find him here?”
”He told me that he would be going into the Eastland. He took my sister with him.”
”Your sister?” The Dwarf's brows were fiercely knit. ”Allanon and your sister? And they're supposed to be here somewhere?”
Jair nodded slowly, a sinking feeling in his stomach. Foraker looked at him as if he were crazy. Then he looked at Garet Jax.
”Where did you find this Valeman?”
”On the way,” the other replied vaguely. ”What do you know about the Druid?”Foraker shrugged. ”I know that no one has seen Allanon in the Eastland for more than twenty years-with or without anybody's sister.”
”Well, you don't know much, then,” Slanter spoke up suddenly, the faintest hint of a sneer in his voice. ”The Druid's come and gone right under your nose!”
Foraker's fierce countenance swung around on the speaker. ”I'd watch my mouth if I were you, Gnome.”
”This one supposedly tracked the Druid out of the Eastland,” Garet Jax offered, gray eyes wandering off casually about the empty hall. ”Tracked him from the Maelmord right to the Valeman's doorstep.”
Foraker stared at him. ”I'll ask again-what exactly am I supposed to do with these two?”
Garet Jax looked back at him. ”I've been thinking about that. Does the Council meet tonight?”
”Every night, these days,”
”Then let the Valeman speak to them.”
Foraker frowned. ”Why should I do that?”
”Because he has something to tell them that I think they're going to want to hear. And not just about the Druid.”
Dwarf and Weapons Master eyed each other in silence. ”I'll have to make a request,”
Foraker said at last, his lack of enthusiasm evident.
”Now seems like a good time to do it.” Garet Jax rose to his feet.
Foraker sighed and stood up with him, glancing down at Jair and Slanter as he did so. ”You two can eat your meal and stay put. Don't try wandering off.” He hesitated. ”I don't know anything about a Druid pa.s.sing through, but I'll look into it for you, Ohmsford.” He shook his head.
”Come along, Garet.”
The Dwarf and the Weapons Master left the eating hall. Jair and Slanter sat alone at the table, lost in thought. Where was Allanon? Jair asked himself in silent desperation, head lowered to study his hands as he clasped them before him. The Druid had said he was going into the Eastland. Wouldn't he come through Culhaven? If he hadn't, then where had he gone? Where had he taken Brin?
A Dwarf in a white bib ap.r.o.n brought them plates of hot food and cups of ale, and they began to eat. No one said anything. The minutes slipped past as they consumed the meal, and Jair felt his hopes fading with each bite he took-as if somehow he were consuming the answers his questions demanded. Pus.h.i.+ng the plate back from where he sat, he scuffed one boot against the plank flooring nervously and tried to decide what he would do if Elb Foraker were right and Allanon and Brin had indeed not come this way.
”Stop that?” Slanter growled suddenly.
Jair glanced up. ”Stop what?”
”Stop rubbing your boot against the floor. It's annoying.”
”Sorry.”
”And quit looking like you'd lost your best friend. Your sister will turn up.”
Jair shook his head slowly, still distracted. ”Maybe.”
”Humph,” the Gnome muttered. ”I'm the one who should be worrying-not you. I don't know how I ever let you talk me into this fool's errand.”
Jair propped his elbows on the table and cupped his chin in his hands. There was determination in his voice. ”Even if Brin didn't come through Culhaven, even if Allanon wentanother way, we've still got to go into the Anar, Slanter. And we've got to persuade the Dwarves to help us.”
Slanter stared at him. ”We? Us? You'd better take a moment and rethink that 'we and us'
nonsense! I'm not going anywhere but back to where I came from before I got involved in this whole mess!”
. ”You're a tracker, Slanter,” Jair said quietly. ”I need you.”
”Too bad,” the Gnome snapped, his rough yellow face suddenly dark. ”I'm also a Gnome, in case you hadn't noticed! Did you see the way they looked at me out there? Did you see those children looking at me like I was some sort of wild animal brought in from the forest? Use your head! There's a war going on between Gnomes and Dwarves, and the Dwarves aren't likely to listen to anything you have to say so long as you persist in making me your ally! Which I'm not, in any case!”
Jair bent forward. ”Slanter, I have to reach Heaven's Well before Brin reaches the Maelmord. How am I going to do that without someone to guide me in?”
”You'll find a way, knowing you.” The Gnome brushed the matter aside. ”Besides, I can't go back there anymore. Spilk will have told them what I did. Or if not him, then that other Gnome that ran off. They'll be looking for me. If I go back, someone will recognize me. When I'm caught, the walkers...” He stopped abruptly and threw up his hands. ”I'm not going and that's that!”
He went back to eating his food, his head lowered to his plate. Jair regarded him silently, wondering if perhaps he were making a mistake in seeking Slanter's help in the first place; perhaps the King of the Silver River hadn't intended him as an ally after all. Slanter didn't really seem like much of an ally when you thought about it. He was altogether too clever, too opportunistic, and his loyalty changed as often as the wind. He wasn't one to be depended on, was he? Yet despite all that, there was still something about the Gnome that Jair liked. Maybe it was his toughness. Like Garet Jax, Slanter was a survivor, and that was the sort of companion fair needed if he were to reach the deep Anar.
He watched as the Gnome drank down the last of the ale in noisy gulps, then said quietly.
”I thought you wanted to learn about the magic.”
Slanter shook his head. ”Not anymore. I've learned all I care to know about you, boy.”
Jair frowned in annoyance. ”I think you're just scared.”
”Think what you like. I'm not going.”
”What about your people? Don't you care what the Mord Wraiths are doing to them?”