could he give? What answers would they accept?
Then abruptly a line of shadowy figures materialized from out of the gloom, trudging heavily through the forest trees. Two, three, half a dozen, eight Jair watched as one by one they appeared through the mist, bulky forms wrapped in woolen forest cloaks. Gnomes — rugged yellow features glimpsed from within hoods drawn close, thick–fingered hands clasping spears and cudgels. Not a word passed their lips as they filed into the clearing, but sharp eyes fixed on the captive Valeman and there was no friendliness in their gaze.
«This him?»
The speaker stood at the forefront of the others. He was powerfully built, his body corded with muscle, his chest massive. He thrust the butt of his cudgel into the forest earth, gripping it with scarred, gnarled fingers, twisting it slowly.
«Well, is it?»
The Gnome glanced briefly at Slanter. Slanter nodded. The Gnome let his gaze shift back to Jair. Slowly he pulled clear the hood of his forest cloak. Rough, broken features dominated his broad face. Cruel eyes studied the Valeman dispassionately, probing.
«What’s your name?» he asked quietly.
«Jair Ohmsford,” Jair answered at once.
«What was the Druid doing at your home?»
Jair hesitated, trying to decide what he should say. Something unpleasant flickered in the Gnome’s eyes. With a sudden snap of his hands he brought the cudgel about, sweeping the Valeman’s feet from beneath him. Jair fell hard, the breath knocked from his body. The Gnome stood over him silently, then reached down, seized the front of his tunic and pulled him back to his feet.
«What was the Druid doing in your home?»
Jair swallowed, trying to hide his fear. «He came to find my father,” he lied.
«Why?»
«My father is the holder of Elfstones. Allanon will use them as a weapon against the Mord Wraiths.»
There was an endless moment of silence. Jair did not even breathe. If Slanter had found the Elfstones in his tunic, the lie was already discovered and he was finished. He waited, eves fixed on the Gnome.
«Where are they now, the Druid and your father?» the other said finally.
Jair exhaled. «Gone east.» He hesitated, then added, «My mother and sister are visiting in the villages south of the Vale. I was supposed to wait at the inn for their return.»
The Gnome grunted noncommittally. I’ve got to try to protect them, Jair thought. Spilk was watching him carefully. He did not look away. You can’t tell that I’m lying, he thought. You can’t.
Then a gnarled finger lifted from the cudgel. «Do you do magic?»
«I…» Jair glanced at the dark faces about him.
The cudgel came up, a quick, sharp blow that caught Jair across the knees, throwing him to the earth once more. The Gnome smiled, eyes hard. He yanked Jair back to his feet.
«Answer me — do you do magic?»
Jair nodded wordlessly, mute with pain. He could barely stand.
«Show me,” the Gnome ordered.
«Spilk.» Slanter’s voice broke softly through the sudden silence. «You might want to reconsider that request.»
Spilk glanced briefly at Slanter, then dismissed him. His eyes returned to Jair. «Show me.»
Jair hesitated. Again the cudgel came up. Even though Jair was ready this time, he could not move fast enough to avoid the blow. It caught him alongside the face. Pain exploded in his head, and tears flooded his eyes. He dropped to his knees, but Spilk’s thick hands knotted in his tunic and once more he was hauled to his feet.
«Show me!» the Gnome demanded.
Then anger flooded through Jair — anger so intense that it burned. He gave no thought to what he did next; he simply acted. A quick, muted cry broke from his lips and turned abruptly to a frightening hiss. Instantly Spilk was covered with huge gray spiders. The Gnome Sedt shrieked in dismay, tearing frantically at the great hairy insects, falling back from Jair. The Gnomes behind him scattered, spears and cudgels hammering downward as they sought to keep the spiders from their own bodies. The Sedt went down under a flurry of blows, thrashing upon the forest earth, trying to dislodge the terrible things that clung so tenaciously to him, his cries filling the morning air.
Jair sang a moment longer and then quit. Had he not been bound hand and foot or had he not been dizzy still from the blows struck by Spilk, he would have taken advantage of the confusion the wishsong’s use had created to attempt an escape.
But Slanter had made certain he could not run. As the anger left him he grew silent.
For a few seconds Spilk continued to roll upon the ground, tearing at himself. Then abruptly he realized that the spiders were gone. Slowly he came to his knees, his breathing harsh and ragged, his battered face twisting until his eyes found Jair. He surged to his feet with a howl and threw himself at the Valeman, gnarled hands reaching. Jair stumbled back, his legs tangling in the ropes. In the next instant, the Gnome was atop him, fists hammering wildly. Dozens of blows struck Jair’s head and face, seemingly all at once. Pain and shock washed through him.
Then everything went black.
He came awake again only moments later. Slanter knelt next to him, dabbing at his face with a cloth soaked in cold water. The water stung, and he jerked sharply at its touch.
«You got more sand than brains, boy,” the Gnome whispered, bending close. «You all right?»
Jair nodded, reaching up to touch his face experimentally. Slanter knocked his hand away.
«Leave it be.» He dabbed a few more times with the cloth, then allowed a faint grin to cross his rough face. «Scared old Spilk half to death, you did. Half to death!»
Jair glanced past Slanter to where the remainder of the patrol huddled at the far side of the clearing, eyes darting watchfully in his direction. Spilk stood apart from everyone, his face black with anger.
«Had to pull him off you myself,” Slanter was saying. «Would have killed you otherwise. Would have beat your head in.»
«He asked me to show him the magic,” Jair muttered, swallowing hard. «So I did.»
The thought clearly amused the Gnome, and he permitted himself another faint smile, carefully averting his face from the Sedt. Then he put his arm about Jair’s shoulders and raised him to a sitting position. Pouring a short ration of ale from the container at his waist, he gave the Valeman a drink. Jair accepted the ale, swallowing and choking as it burned clear down to his stomach.
«Better?»
«Better,” Jair agreed.
«Then listen.» The smile was gone. «I’ve got to gag you again. You’re in my care now — the others won’t have anything to do with you. You’re to be kept bound and gagged except for meals. So behave. It’s a long journey.»
«A long journey to where?» Jair did not bother to conceal the alarm in his eyes.
«East. The Agar. You’re to be taken to the Mord Wraiths. Spilk’s decided. He wants them to have a look at your magic.» The Gnome shook his head solemnly. «Sorry, but there’s no help for it. Not after what you did.»
Before Jair could say anything, Slanter shoved the gag back into his mouth. Then, loosing the ties that bound Jair’s ankles, he pulled the Valeman to his feet. Producing a short length of rope, he looped one end through Jair’s belt and tied the other end to his own.
«Spilk,” he called over to the other.
The Gnome Sedt turned wordlessly, and started off into the forest. The remainder of the patrol followed after.
«Sorry, boy,” Slanter repeated.
Together, they walked from the clearing into the early morning mist.
Chapter Seven
