«We seem to be in your debt once again,” he offered.
Cephelo shrugged. «I was hasty in my judgment of you at the Tirfing; I let my concern for my people override my common sense. I blamed you for what happened when I should have thanked you for aiding. That has bothered me. Saving you now eases my sense of guilt.»
«I am gratified to learn that you feel this way.» Wil did not believe one word of it. «This has been a difficult time for my sister and me.»
«Difficult?» Cephelo’s dark face mirrored sudden concern. «Perhaps there is something more that I can do to aid you — something to be of service. If you would tell me what it is, exactly, that brings you to this most dangerous part of the country…?»
Here it comes, Wil thought. Out of the corner of his eye; he watched Amberle frown in warning.
«I wish that it were within your power to help.» Wil did his best to sound sincere. «But I am afraid that it is not. What I need most is the guidance of someone familiar with the history of this valley, its marks, and its legends.»
Cephelo clapped his hands lightly. «Well, then, perhaps I can be of assistance after all. I have traveled the Wilderun many times.» He lifted a long finger to the side of his head. «I know something of its secrets.»
Perhaps, Wil thought. Perhaps not. He wants to know what we are doing here.
The Valeman shrugged. «I do not feel that we should impose further on your hospitality by involving you in our affairs. My sister and I can manage.»
The Rover’s face was expressionless. «Why not tell me what it is that brings you here — let me judge if the imposition is so great.»
Amberle’s hand closed tightly on Wil’s arm, but he ignored it, keeping his eyes locked on Cephelo’s. He knew that he was going to have to tell the Rover something.
«There is a sickness within the house of the Elessedils, rulers of the Elves.» He lowered his voice. «The King’s granddaughter is very ill. The medicine she needs is an extract from a root that can only be found here, within the Wilderun. I alone know that — I and my sister. We have come here in search of that root, for if we can find it and carry if to the Elven ruler, the reward will be great.»
He felt Amberle’s grip loosen abruptly. He did not dare to look at her face. Cephelo was silent for a moment before replying.
Do you know where within the Wilderun this root can be found?“
The Valeman nodded. «There are books, ancient books of healing from the old world, that speak of the root and the name of its location. But it is a name long since forgotten, long, since erased from the maps that serve the races now. I doubt that the name would mean anything to you.»
The Rover leaned forward. «Tell it to me anyway»
«Safehold,” Wil declared, watching the other’s dark face. «The name is Safehold.»
Cephelo thought a moment, then shook his head. «You were right the name means nothing. Still…» He paused deliberately, rocking back slightly as if deep, in thought: «There is one who might know the name, one familiar with the old names of this valley I could lead you to him, I suppose. Ah, but Healer, the Wilderun is very dangerous country — you know that yourself since you most certainly crossed through some small part of its forests to reach Grimpen Ward. The risk to my people and myself if we were to aid you in such a perilous search would be great.» He shrugged apologetically. «Besides, we have other commitments, other places to which we must travel, other business to which we must attend. Time is a precious thing to such as we. Surely you can appreciate that.»
«What is it that you are saying?» The Valeman demanded quietly.
«That without me, you will fail in your quest. That you need me; that I in turn wish to offer my help. But such help as you seek cannot be given without, ah… adequate recompense.»
Wil nodded slowly. «What recompense, Cephelo?»
The Rover’s eyes glittered. «The Stones you carry. The ones that hold the power.»
The Valeman shook his head. «They would be useless to you.»
«Would they? Is their secret so dark?» Cephelo’s eyes narrowed. «Do not suppose me a fool. You are no simple Healer. That much was obvious almost from the moment we first met. Still, it matters not to me who you are — only what you have. You have the power of the Stones and I wish it.»
«Their magic is Elven.» Wil forced himself to remain calm, hoping desperately that he had not lost control of the situation, «Only one of Elven blood can wield their power.»
«You lie badly, Healer,” the big man’s voice was ugly.
«He speaks the truth,” Amberle interjected quickly, her face frightened. «If not for the Stones, he would not have even attempted this search. You have no right to ask him to give them up to you.»
«I have the right to ask whatever I choose,” Cephelo snapped, brushing her words aside with a wave of his hand. «In any case, I believe neither of you.»
«Believe what you wish.» Wil’s voice was steady. «I will not give you the Stones.»
The two men stared wordlessly at each other for a moment, the Rover’s face hard and threatening Yet there was fear there as well — fear generated by Cephelo’s vivid memory of the power locked within the Elfstones, power that Wil Ohmsford had mastered. With great effort he forced himself to smile.
«What will you give me then, Healer? Am I expected to do this service for nothing? Am I expected to risk lives and property without any form of recompense at all? There must be something of value that you can give me — something that has worth equal to that of the Stones you so stubbornly refuse to yield. What then? What will you give me?»
Wil tried desperately to come up with something, but there was absolutely nothing else he carried that was worth more than a few pennies. Yet just when he had decided that the situation was hopeless, Cephelo snapped his fingers sharply.
«I will make a bargain with you, Healer. You say that the Elven King will reward you if you bring to him the medicine that will cure his granddaughter. Very well. I will do what I can to help you learn something of this place you call Safehold. I will take you to one who might know the name. I will do that and nothing more. In exchange for this, you must give me half of whatever reward you receive from the Elven King. Half. Is it agreed?»
Wil thought it over a moment. A curious bargain, he decided. Rovers seldom, if ever, gave anything away without first getting something in return. What was Cephelo about?
«Are you saying that you will help me learn the location of Safehold…»
«If I can.»
«… but you will not come with me to find it?»
Cephelo shrugged. «I have no wish to risk my life unnecessarily. Finding the medicine and conveying it to the Elven King’s granddaughter is your problem. My part of the bargain is merely to help you on your way.» He paused. «Do not, however, presume that once gone you are therefore free of me. Any attempt to cheat me of what you owe would end very badly for you.»
The Valeman frowned. «How will you know whether or not I am successful if you do not come with me?»
Cephelo laughed. «Healer, I am a Rover — I will know! I will know all that happens to you, believe me.»
His smile was so wolfish that for an instant Wil was certain that there was another meaning to his words. Something was wrong; he could sense it. Yet they needed help from somewhere in finding their way through the Wilderun — help that would permit him to forgo any use of the Elfstones. If Cephelo were to give them that help, it might mean the difference between success and failure in finding the Bloodfire before the Demons found them.
«Is it agreed?» Cephelo asked again.
Wil shook his head. He would test the Rover. «One half is too much. I will give you a third.»
«A third!» Cephelo’s face darkened momentarily, then relaxed. «Very well. I am a reasonable man. A third.»
That had been entirely too easy, Wil thought. He glanced at Amberle, seeing in her eyes the same mistrust that flickered in his own. But the Elven girl said nothing. She was leaving the decision to him.
«Come, come, Elfling,” Cephelo pressed. «Do not be all day about it.»
The Valeman nodded. «All right. It is agreed.»
