Bearers of the Black Staff - Terry Brooks [88]
He took a step forward so that he stood at the forefront of the little assembly and close to the boy and the girl. His huge body was layered with scales as thick and rough as bark looming over them like a tree trunk, and his flat, empty face was ridged with scars. He studied them, letting the silence build for a moment before he shifted his gaze to his nephew and asked a quick question. Sarn answered briefly, and then there was a further exchange.
“Taureq says to tell him where you come from,” he said quietly.
Panterra took a deep breath. “We come from deep in the mountains east of these plains. Those mountains are our home.”
Another quick exchange among the Trolls followed. “Taureq says to tell him if you are a nation of Men only or of others, too.”
“We are a nation of mixed Races. Men, Elves, Trolls”—he was quick to remember that the word Lizards was not to be used—“and Spiders.”
Another exchange followed this translation. “How many?”
“Hundreds of thousands,” Panterra lied.
There was a pause after his answer was given, then a flurry of words from the Maturen. “Taureq never heard of you. Why not, if your people are so many? Why live in the mountains and not in the grasslands south?”
Again, Panterra answered, embellishing the truth where it was needed. They had not come out of the mountains until now because they did not know if it was safe to do so or if the rest of the world had been destroyed. They were happy isolating themselves. They had found a home that could sustain them and that they could protect. He went on from there. He made it sound as if they were self-sufficient and well fortified against intruders, a united community of friends and neighbors deeply entrenched inside mountain passes only they knew how to navigate. He had no idea if he was saying the right thing; he only knew he needed to give the impression that an intrusion or attack of any sort would be a mistake.
Then, abruptly, the questions stopped. Taureq Siq stood quietly, looking at Panterra. He seemed to be considering. Pan waited, keeping his face expressionless, trying to convey a sense of calm. But as the seconds passed, he sensed in the spaces between their soft, slow fading that he had made a mistake.
As if in response to his fears, Taureq Siq made a quick, dismissive comment, and Arik Sarn turned to Pan and said, “He says you are lying. He wants to know why.”
Panterra felt his throat tighten as he struggled to find the right response. “I don’t lie. But I am worried that he intends to use his army to invade us and want to make clear that we are a poor choice for an attack.”
A further exchange between Trolls followed. “He says no harm will come to your people, but you should not lie to him because if you do he will take his army into the mountains and find your people and kill them, but first he will kill you and the girl.”
Sarn’s words died away into silence. So he means us no harm, but he’s willing to kill us all if he decides he’s being lied to? Pan gave a mental shake of his head. He could trust nothing of what this man was saying, which was pretty much what Sarn had suggested in advising him to reveal nothing he did not wish repeated. Grosha was smiling, standing next to his father, hands clasped almost gleefully. He sensed he was about to have his way with them, that they would soon be entertainment for his Skaith Hounds.
“I have answered truthfully,” Pan said, trying to deflect both Taureq Siq’s threat and his own fear. “I don’t know what more I can do. What else do you want to know?”
Beside him, he felt Prue inch closer.
Another long pause as Taureq Siq considered. Beside him, Grosha was growing more agitated, restless enough that he was trying to push forward again. His father, almost absently, shoved him back, and then spoke anew to Arik Sarn.
“He says you must take him to meet your leaders,” the latter advised Pan. “Tomorrow.”
Pan hesitated. Now what am I supposed to do? His mind raced, searching for an answer that wouldn’t come. “I’m not allowed to do that,” he said finally. “I don’t have permission