Bearers of the Black Staff - Terry Brooks [23]
His hands swept the air and came down again. “We are the Children of the Hawk, and we know what the Hawk promised us. We know that he led us here to keep us safe and that when it is time to go out into the larger world again, when it is safe for us to do so, he will come for us. He will come as a sign or in the flesh reborn, but he will come. There will be no ending of the mists, no falling down of the protective wall, no intrusion of the world left behind, until the madness shut outside our homeland is dispelled forever. And he will be the one to bring us this message, not some hermit who has no better sense than to spread wild rumors.”
A slow muttering had grown to a low chanting that filled the room and drew together the assemblage. Panterra glanced around uneasily, not able to quite grasp the words, but disliking their tone. Prue took his arm to catch his attention and shook her head, apparently thinking he was about to do something. Was he? He turned back to Pogue Kray.
“What if he’s right?” he asked the council leader, lifting his voice so that everyone could hear it. “What if Sider Ament speaks the truth?”
“Careful, boy,” Skeal Eile said quickly. “Your words verge on blasphemy. You risk your salvation as a Child of the Hawk.”
Again the voices rose to shouts, sprinkled now with epithets that were clearly audible. Pogue Kray rose yet again, and yet again slammed his fist on the table.
The crowd quieted, but the dark looks remained.
“If you would speak, do so one at a time!” Pogue Kray rumbled blackly, his eyes sweeping the assemblage. “And do so with some care.”
“I would speak,” a voice from the very back of the room declared, a voice that caused Panterra to turn at once.
Aislinne Kray stepped out of the crowd at the back of the room and made her way forward. She was a tall, striking woman with long blond hair gone almost white, finely chiseled features that made her appear much younger than she was, and a determined walk that brooked no interference. Those in her way stepped back quickly, and voices went silent once more.
When she reached the front of the room, she turned slightly so that she was addressing everyone. “I am ashamed for you,” she said quietly but firmly. “Ashamed and disappointed. What kind of people would attack a boy and a girl like this? I stand among you and hear you speak words like heretic and demon-spawn. I hear you suggest that they be cast out if they refuse to recant. A boy and a girl you have known all your lives. A boy and a girl who have proven themselves among the best of our Trackers, who have time and again done service to this village and its people by carrying out their duties with skill and dedication. Never once have their actions been questioned. Never once have they done anything to earn your scorn.”
She paused, looking directly at Skeal Eile. “But now, for doing nothing more than bringing before you a message that could have significance for us all—and for keeping a promise made to a man who saved their lives—you would cast all that aside? You would declare them villains and worse?”
“Enough, wife,” Pogue Kray interrupted wearily. “We take your point. But you must consider ours. This message casts doubt on everything we have held as truth for five centuries. We cannot accept that lightly.”
“Nor do I say you should, husband,” Aislinne replied pointedly. “Incidentally, I am a member of this council, too. It would be reasonable for you to give me notice of these meetings.”
“You were fifteen miles hence, in Woodstone Glen.” But Pogue Kray looked uncomfortable.
“Too far for someone to come fetch me, I guess.” She was looking at