Bearers of the Black Staff - Terry Brooks [127]
The boy was silent for a while longer, and then he shook his head doubtfully. “I don’t know. I don’t know if I can do that. I don’t know if I want to.”
Sider nodded. “I don’t know, either. Neither of us will know until the moment I pass the staff to you. All we can do until then is to try to prepare you for what having the staff means. We can talk about it. We can examine it. You can ask what questions you would, and I can answer them as best I know. This will give you a chance to see if it might be something that interests you—not in the abstract, but in the practice of it. I will try to convince you that you are the right man to bear it. But I will not force you to take it, and I will not expect you to force yourself. It has to be voluntary. You have to feel the need.”
The boy shook his head again. “I don’t like the idea of it. I don’t want to be responsible for so many people.”
“How is that different from what you do now? You act as surrogate to an entire village and by proxy for the entire valley in most cases. They depend on your Tracker’s skills to ward them, to keep them safe, to see them right. If you fail, many times your own number will suffer as a consequence. Many more lives are in your hands now than ever before because of the danger of an invasion. You cannot pretend that taking up the staff will in any measurable way increase the nature of your responsibility. What it will do is give you a better chance of doing your job as it needs doing.”
“Your argument suggests that as a Tracker I alone am responsible for everyone.” The boy was standing his ground, thinking it through. “There are other Trackers, equally qualified, equally responsible, and they share my burden. If I become the next bearer of the black staff, I will stand alone.”
“You will,” Sider agreed. “But how disagreeable do you find that? Do you not see yourself as standing alone even now? Isn’t that how you approach what you do—by telling yourself the responsibility is yours and it doesn’t matter if there are others who could do it equally well or who might be called upon to share your burden? You don’t think of it that way, do you? You think of it as yours and yours alone.”
He could see that he was right. He could see it in the boy’s eyes and feel it in his hesitation. “But it still isn’t the same,” the boy persisted.
Sider let the answer hang a moment, and then he put a hand on the boy’s shoulder and squeezed softly. “Why don’t we leave it here for now? We can talk about it again later. You can think about what I’ve said. We should eat something and then sleep.”
The boy nodded but said nothing. Sider could tell he was already thinking it through.
THEY PREPARED THEIR DINNER, a rabbit cooked over a fire, some day-old bread they had been given before leaving Hold-Fast-Crossing, some root vegetables foraged and sliced to cook with the meat, and cups of cold springwater. They ate in silence as the last of the light faded from the sky and the stars began to come out.
“Tomorrow, we will reach Glensk Wood,” Sider said once the meal was done and they were sitting by the dying fire, listening to the sounds of the night as it closed about them. “I will leave you there and go on alone. I won’t be back for several days.”
The boy was silent for several moments. “Is this because I won’t agree to be your apprentice?”
Sider almost smiled, but managed with some effort to keep a straight face. “It has nothing to do with that. I am going out of the valley to find Prue and bring her back.”
The boy looked over quickly. “Then you have to take me with you. I can help.”
“Not this time. I know you want to come with me, but I will have a better chance of saving her if I go alone.”
The boy shook his head. “It doesn’t seem right letting you do this when I was the one who left