Sentinelspire - Mark Sehestedt [13]
Sauk nodded and swallowed, and Berun caught a glimpse of a strange look that the half-orc quickly hid. A knowing, pleased expression. Another memory hit Berun. Something Talieth used to say. The best way to catch a liar is to ask him questions to which you already know the answer. Was that Sauk's game here?
"And then?" asked Sauk.
"Then?"
"After you were… 'called back to serve?' Chereth brought me to the Oak Father and taught me the ways of the wild."
"His ways," said Sauk.
Berun knew that Sauk was thinking of Malar. Sauk was zuwar, a hunter sworn to the service of Malar the Beastlord. The Beastlord was also of the wild, but only of its more bestial aspects-the hunt, the kill, survival of the strong. The Oak Father did not deny those aspects, but Chereth had taught him that these were only one leaf on a tree that grew many branches.
"You knew Chereth well, then?" asked Sauk.
"He was my master," said Berun, and left it at that. In truth, he had known the old half-elf as well as anyone, which was to say he'd seen only the surface of a pool that ran very deep.
"Did you know that five years ago Chereth came to Sentinelspire?"
"I… suspected."
Sauk's eyebrows shot up. "And you let your beloved master go? Knowing what you know? Knowing us?"
Berun clamped his jaw shut and stared into the fire.
"Your Oak Father breeds odd disciples," said Sauk. "Your master walks headlong into death, and you don't so much as go after his body, much less vengeance."
Berun said nothing. He knew that Sauk was trying to provoke him, partially to see what information another torrent of angry words might reveal and partly out of his own personal disgust for the so-called "leaf lovers" and "blight beaters"-druids and their ilk who did not embrace the savagery of the wild.
"Do you know why your master came to Sentinelspire?" said Sauk.
"He"-Berun swallowed to keep his voice from breaking -"wouldn't tell me."
"Ah," said Sauk. "Old leaf lover wanted to protect his precious disciple. That it? Well, you know more than I thought. But this I'll bet you don't know." The half-orc smiled and took another bite of bread. He chewed, swallowed, and took a sip from a waterskin. "Your old druid came to Sentinelspire to kill the Old Man of the Mountain." Sauk paused, giving the words time to sink in-or perhaps letting the hook dangle before the fish. "Imagine that. An old leaf lover coming to the most impregnable citadel east of Thay and hoping to kill the king of killers. Now there is a tale!"
Sauk's words didn't really surprise Berun. He'd long known that there was some sort of history between Chereth, Master of the Yuirwood, and Alaodin, Old Man of the Mountain. What exactly that history had been, he had no idea. But nine years ago, Alaodin had sent Kheil, the best assassin in his arsenal, to kill Chereth in his homeland, surrounded by hundreds of allies. Such a desperate mission could not have been a random act, nor even a job bought and paid for by some western lord or lady. It had to be grave and personal for the Old Man to have sent Kheil. In the five years since Chereth had left him, Berun had not passed a day without wondering of his master's fate. All those days of wandering through villages, seeking other druid Circles, looking for word from the old half-elf, hoping for any rumor but finding none. To now have it confirmed…
Berun felt… what? Tired. That was it. All those years of hoping had given him purpose. To have that hope crushed left him feeling lost and weary.
"But," said Sauk, his voice going quiet, scarcely more than a whisper, "here's the thing I bet you didn't know." He smiled. "Chereth is still alive."
Breath caught in Berun's throat. "Alive?"
"As you and me."
"But… the Old Man?"
Sauk smiled. "Hale as ever."
"But you said that you and your men have sworn to kill him. I don't understand."
"You want to know about your master or about the Old Man?"
Both, Berun realized, and he didn't like that.
"Truth be told," Sauk continued, "you need to hear both. That's why we came