Ilse Witch - Terry Brooks [79]
By morning they were stiff and sore and not very well rested, but they resumed their travels without complaint. In other circumstances, they would have come better equipped, but neither had wanted the burden of pack animals and supplies, and so they were traveling light. A few nights of damp and cold were tolerable in the course of a week’s passage if it meant shaving a few days off their traveling time. They ate a cold breakfast, then rode all morning through the Black Oaks, and by afternoon the rain had abated and they had reached the Battlemound. Here they turned south, unwilling to chance crossing through any part of the Mist Marsh, content to detour below the swamp and come out to the east, where they would turn north again and ride until they reached the Silver River.
By sunset, they had succeeded in accomplishing their goal, avoiding Sirens and other pitfalls, keeping to the roadway until it meandered off south, then sticking to the open ground of the lowlands as the terrain changed back to forests and low hills and they could see the glittering ribbon of the river ahead. Finding shelter in a grove of cottonwood and beech, they made camp on its banks, the ground sufficiently dry that they could lay out their bedding and build a fire. They watered and fed the horses and rubbed them down. Then they made dinner for themselves and, after eating it, sat facing out toward the river and the night, sipping cups of ale as they talked.
“I wish we knew more about Truls Rohk,” Bek ventured after the conversation had been going on for a time. “Why do you think Walker told us so little about him?”
Quentin contemplated the star-filled sky thoughtfully. “Well, he told us where to go to find him. He said all we had to do was ask and he would be there. Seems like enough to me.”
“It might be enough for you, but not for me. It doesn’t tell us anything about why we’re looking for him. How come he’s so important?” Bek was not about to be appeased. “If we’re to persuade him to come with us to Arborlon, shouldn’t we know why he’s needed? What if he doesn’t want to come? What are we supposed to do then?”
Quentin grinned cheerfully. “Pack up and go on. It isn’t our problem if he chooses to stay behind.” He grimaced. “See, there you go again, Bek, worrying when there isn’t any reason for it.”
“So you’re fond of telling me. So I’ll tell you something else that’s worrying me. I don’t trust Walker.”
They stared at each other in the darkness without speaking, the fire beginning to burn down, the sounds of the night lifting out of the sudden silence. “What do you mean?” Quentin asked slowly. “You think he’s lying to us?”
“No.” Bek shook his head emphatically. “If I thought that, I wouldn’t be here. No, I don’t think he’s that sort. But I do think he knows something he’s not telling us. Maybe a lot of somethings. Think about it, Quentin. How did he know about you and the Sword of Leah? He knew you had it before he even talked to us. How did he find out? Has he been keeping an eye on you all these years, waiting for a chance to summon you on a quest? How did he manage to convince your father to let us go with him, when your father wouldn’t even consider your request to fight for the Free-born?”
He stopped abruptly. He wanted to tell Quentin what Coran had said about his parentage. He wanted to ask Quentin why he thought Coran hadn’t said a word about it until the Druid appeared. He wanted to ask his cousin if he had any idea how the Druid had ended up ferrying him to the Leah doorstep in the first place, not a task a Druid would normally undertake.
But he was not prepared to talk about any of this just yet, — he was still mulling it over, trying to decide how he felt about it before sharing what he knew.
“I think you’re right,” Quentin said suddenly, surprising him. “I think the Druid’s keeping secrets from us, not the least of which is where we’re going and why. But I’ve listened to you expound on Druids and their history often enough to know that this is normal behavior for them. They know things we don’t, and they keep the