Ilse Witch - Terry Brooks [68]
“Which are good reasons to hire us,” her brother added.
“Especially if the latter are allied with someone whose magic is as powerful as your own.”
“Someone who can kill with little more than the sound of her voice.” Redden Alt Mer smiled anew. “Oh, yes. We know something of the creatures that live in the Wilderun. We know something of witches and warlocks.”
“Rumor has it,” his sister said softly, “that you were standing next to Allardon Elessedil when he was killed.”
“Rumor has it that he struck some sort of bargain with you, and that the Elves intend to honor it.” Alt Mer cocked one eyebrow quizzically.
Walker glanced out at the darkness of Verta Road, then back at the red-haired siblings again. “You seem to know a great deal.”
The Rover Captain shrugged. “It is our business to know, when we are being asked to put our lives at risk.”
“Which brings up an interesting point.” The Druid gave them both a considering look. “Why do you want to come with me on this voyage? Why choose to involve yourselves in this venture when there are other, less dangerous expeditions?”
Redden Alt Mer laughed. “A good question. A question that requires several answers. Let me see if I can provide them for you. First, there is the money. You offer more than we can make from anyone else. A great deal more. We’re mercenaries, so we pay close attention when the purse offered is substantial. Second, there are the unfortunate circumstances surrounding our recent leave-taking from the Federation. It wasn’t altogether voluntary, and our former employers could decide to come looking for us to settle accounts. It might be best if we were somewhere else if that happens. A long voyage out of the Four Lands would provide them with sufficient time to lose interest.
“And third,” he said, smiling like a small boy with a piece of candy, “there is the challenge of making a voyage to a new land, of going somewhere no one else has gone before, of seeing something for the first time, of finding a new world.” He sighed and gestured expansively. “You shouldn’t underestimate what that means to us. It’s difficult to explain to someone who doesn’t fly or sail or explore like we do, like we’ve done all our lives. It is who we are and what we do, and sometimes that counts for more than anything.”
“Especially after our experience with the Federation, where we hired out just for the money,” his sister growled softly. “It’s time for something else, something more fulfilling, even if it is dangerous.”
“Don’t be so quick to demystify our thinking, Little Red!” her brother reproved her sharply. He cocked a finger at the Druid. “Enough about the reasons for our choices. Let me tell you something about yours, about why you chose to involve yourself with us. I don’t mean Little Red and myself, personally—though we’re the ones you want. I mean the Rovers. You are here, my friend, because you’re a Druid and we’re Rovers, and we have much in common. We are outsiders and always have been. We are outcasts of the lands, just barely tolerated and suspiciously viewed. We are comfortable with wanderlust and the wider view of the world, and we do not see things in terms of nationalities and governments. We are people who value friendship and loyalty, who prize strength of heart and mind as well as of body, but who value good judgment even more.
You can be the bravest soul who ever walked the earth and be worthless if you do not know when and where to choose your battles. How am I doing?“
“A little long-winded,” Walker offered.
The tall Rover laughed gleefully. “A sense of humor in a Druid! Who would have thought it possible? Well, you catch my drift, so I needn’t go on. We are made for each other—and for quests that most would never dream of even considering. You want us, Walker, because we will stand against anything. We will go right into death’s maw and give a yank of his tongue. We will do it because that is what life is for, if you are a Rover. Now tell me—am I wrong?”
Walker shook his head, as much in dismay as in agreement.
“He actually believes all