Bearers of the Black Staff - Terry Brooks [66]
Tenerife raised his hand. “Besides you, enlightened one,” Tasha amended. “And Phryne, of course. Who else?”
Neither Panterra nor Prue knew anything at all about a sister, although both had heard the story of Kirisin Belloruus countless times.
“Her name was Simralin, wasn’t it?” Phryne offered.
“It was.” Tasha beamed at her as a teacher might an exceptionally bright student, although Pan suspected that as the daughter of the King, she was at least as well versed as Tasha in Elven history. “A forgotten figure to some extent, but an equally important one. She was older than he was and something of a warrior. She fought against the demons and their minions countless times and helped in the recovery of what up until then had been the missing Elfstones.”
“Aren’t they still missing?” Phryne interrupted.
“The blue ones, the seeking-Stones, yes,” Tasha agreed. “Although the Loden Elfstone remains in the possession of the royal family, as you well know.” He gave her a look. “Can I finish my story now? Because it deals with that very subject.”
He waited for her nod, and then continued. “She fell in love with a Knight of the Word, from the old order, one of the last. When they found their way here, she bound herself to him in the Elven way, and they lived together until he died. She took his staff then and gave it to his son. It was said that he instructed her to do so when he was gone, and so she did. His son, in turn, passed it on, and so things proceeded for generations until it was destroyed. Do you know how it was destroyed?”
Tenerife, who had poured himself a second cup of ale, shook his head in dismay. “Just tell the story and get on with things, Tasha,” he admonished. “We have to be going.”
Tasha ignored him. “It was destroyed in a struggle between the descendants of the only two Knights of the Word known to have survived the Great Wars and made it safely into the valley. One was an Elf, the other a human. Apparently, they knew each other well and had even liked each other. But something triggered a deep-seated and long-lasting dispute between the descendants, the source of which has been forgotten over time. In the ensuing battle, the human prevailed. The Elf was killed and his staff shattered in the bargain.”
He paused. “The Gray Man now carries the remaining staff. It was his predecessor who fought the Elf who bore the other.”
“I hadn’t heard that,” Panterra said, thinking anew of his encounter with Sider Ament. “How long ago was this?”
“Twenty years, at least.” Tasha Orullian shrugged. “It’s not well known outside the Elven royal family. Even they never talk about it. It’s rumored that Sider Ament witnessed the struggle and took the last staff from the hands of his predecessor, who died in the battle, as well.”
There was a long silence as his listeners mulled over the details of his story. “What about the blue Elfstones?” Prue asked.
“The blue Elfstones were in the possession of the descendants of Kirisin and Simralin Belloruus and could be traced through the first four centuries of our time in this valley. But a hundred years ago, they disappeared again. Someone took them.”
“Supposedly,” Phryne interrupted suddenly. “No one knows for sure. Isn’t that so, Tasha?”
“It is. So you’ve heard the story?”
She shrugged, made a dismissive gesture. “It’s just a story, a myth. Except for the parts about the Elfstones being missing and the last staff being in the hands of Sider Ament, which everyone knows, it’s all speculation. No one was there to witness the battle between the bearers of the staffs, or when the Elfstones disappeared.”
“Tasha and I heard the story from our grandfather years ago, but admittedly he wasn’t the most reliable source,” Tenerife cut in. “Tasha