Read Online The Black Unicorn by Terry Brooks - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Terry Brooks
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Greensward arrive, and we haven’t even looked at the list of concerns they sent us. Half-a-dozen other representatives have been sitting about …”
“Nice to see you again, too, Abernathy,” Ben cut him off in midsentence. “Are either Questor or Willow back yet?”
“Uh, no, High Lord.” Abernathy seemed at a momentary loss for words. He trailed along silently as Ben moved past him toward the dining hall. “Did you have a successful trip?” he asked finally.
“Not very. You’re certain neither has returned?”
“Yes, High Lord, I am certain. You are the first one back.”
“Any messages from either?”
“No messages, High Lord.” Abernathy crowded forward. “Is something wrong?”
Ben did not slow. “No, everything is fine.”
Abernathy looked uncertain. “Yes, well, that is good to know.” He hesitated a moment, then cleared his throat. “About the judiciary council’s representatives, High Lord …?”
Ben shook his head firmly. “Not today. I’ll see them tomorrow.” He turned toward the dining hall and left Abernathy at the door. “Let me know the minute Questor or Willow returns—no matter what I’m doing.”
Abernathy pushed his glasses further up his long nose and disappeared back down the passageway without comment.
Ben ate a quick meal and climbed the stairs to the towerthat held the Landsview. The Landsview was a part of the magic of Sterling Silver, a device that gave him a quick glimpse into the happenings of Landover by appearing to allow him to fly the valley end to end. It was a circular platform with a silver guard rail that looked out from the tower through an opening in the wall that ran ceiling to floor. A lectern fastened on the guard rail at its midpoint. An aged parchment map of the kingdom was pinned to the lectern.
Ben stepped up onto the platform, fastened both hands firmly to the guard rail, fixed his eyes upon the map, and willed himself northward. The castle disappeared about him an instant later, and he was sailing through space with only the silver railing and the lectern for support. He sped far north to the mountains of Melchor, swept across their heights and down again. He sped south to the lake country and Elderew, the home city of the people of the River Master. He crisscrossed the forests and hills from one end of the lake country to the other. He found neither Questor Thews nor Willow.
An hour later, he gave it up. His body was drenched with sweat from the effort, and his hands were cramped from gripping the railing. He left the tower of the Landsview disappointed and weary.
He tried to soak the weariness and disappointment away in the waters of a steaming bath, but could not come entirely clean. Images of Meeks haunted him. The wizard had lured him back with that dream of Miles; Ben was certain of it and was also certain that the wizard had some plan in mind to gain revenge on him for Meeks’ exile. What Ben was not certain about was what part the dreams of his friends played in all this—and what danger they might be in right now because of it.
Night descended, and Ben retired to his study. He had already decided to send out search parties for both his missing friends by morning. Everything else would have to wait until he solved the mystery of the dreams. He wasbecoming increasingly convinced that something was terribly wrong and that he was running out of time to set it right again.
Evening deepened. He was immersed in catching up on the paperwork that had piled up during his absence when the door to his study flew open, a sudden gust of wind scattered the stacks of documents he had arranged carefully on the work table before him, and the gaunt figure of Questor Thews stalked out of the darkness into the light.
“I have found them, High Lord!” Questor exclaimed with an elaborate flourish of one arm, a canvass-wrapped bundle clutched to his chest with the other. He crossed to where Ben was working and deposited the bundle on the table
“Nice to see you again, too, Abernathy,” Ben cut him off in midsentence. “Are either Questor or Willow back yet?”
“Uh, no, High Lord.” Abernathy seemed at a momentary loss for words. He trailed along silently as Ben moved past him toward the dining hall. “Did you have a successful trip?” he asked finally.
“Not very. You’re certain neither has returned?”
“Yes, High Lord, I am certain. You are the first one back.”
“Any messages from either?”
“No messages, High Lord.” Abernathy crowded forward. “Is something wrong?”
Ben did not slow. “No, everything is fine.”
Abernathy looked uncertain. “Yes, well, that is good to know.” He hesitated a moment, then cleared his throat. “About the judiciary council’s representatives, High Lord …?”
Ben shook his head firmly. “Not today. I’ll see them tomorrow.” He turned toward the dining hall and left Abernathy at the door. “Let me know the minute Questor or Willow returns—no matter what I’m doing.”
Abernathy pushed his glasses further up his long nose and disappeared back down the passageway without comment.
Ben ate a quick meal and climbed the stairs to the towerthat held the Landsview. The Landsview was a part of the magic of Sterling Silver, a device that gave him a quick glimpse into the happenings of Landover by appearing to allow him to fly the valley end to end. It was a circular platform with a silver guard rail that looked out from the tower through an opening in the wall that ran ceiling to floor. A lectern fastened on the guard rail at its midpoint. An aged parchment map of the kingdom was pinned to the lectern.
Ben stepped up onto the platform, fastened both hands firmly to the guard rail, fixed his eyes upon the map, and willed himself northward. The castle disappeared about him an instant later, and he was sailing through space with only the silver railing and the lectern for support. He sped far north to the mountains of Melchor, swept across their heights and down again. He sped south to the lake country and Elderew, the home city of the people of the River Master. He crisscrossed the forests and hills from one end of the lake country to the other. He found neither Questor Thews nor Willow.
An hour later, he gave it up. His body was drenched with sweat from the effort, and his hands were cramped from gripping the railing. He left the tower of the Landsview disappointed and weary.
He tried to soak the weariness and disappointment away in the waters of a steaming bath, but could not come entirely clean. Images of Meeks haunted him. The wizard had lured him back with that dream of Miles; Ben was certain of it and was also certain that the wizard had some plan in mind to gain revenge on him for Meeks’ exile. What Ben was not certain about was what part the dreams of his friends played in all this—and what danger they might be in right now because of it.
Night descended, and Ben retired to his study. He had already decided to send out search parties for both his missing friends by morning. Everything else would have to wait until he solved the mystery of the dreams. He wasbecoming increasingly convinced that something was terribly wrong and that he was running out of time to set it right again.
Evening deepened. He was immersed in catching up on the paperwork that had piled up during his absence when the door to his study flew open, a sudden gust of wind scattered the stacks of documents he had arranged carefully on the work table before him, and the gaunt figure of Questor Thews stalked out of the darkness into the light.
“I have found them, High Lord!” Questor exclaimed with an elaborate flourish of one arm, a canvass-wrapped bundle clutched to his chest with the other. He crossed to where Ben was working and deposited the bundle on the table
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