Read Online The High Druid's Blade: The Defenders of Shannara by Terry Brooks - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Terry Brooks
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Trolls. Paxon had seen enough of Trolls in his lifetime not to be taken aback by being in their midst, but he was intimidated nevertheless, by both their size and their rough look. They wore tunics with the Druid insignia woven into the fabric on the left panel with scarlet thread, and all of them carried weapons.
Sebec made no mention of Paxon’s sword. Not once. He rarely even glanced at it, seemingly caught up in discussing the work of the Druids. But Paxon still worried about what he would do if the order tried to take the sword away from him. How would he respond? He could not let them do it, but how far was he willing to go to prevent it from happening?
By midnight, when the lights of Paranor began to appear, Paxon was nodding off, his eyes heavy and his body lethargic. But his first sight of the Druid’s Keep brought him awake again in a hurry. The very size of it took his breath away. Massive walls, great towers soaring skyward, clusters of buildings sprawling over acres of ground, the whole of it made dark and shadowed by the ancient trees of the surrounding forest—the Keep was overwhelming. Sebec was at his side to point out which rooms each building housed, eager either to display his knowledge or to further intimidate a first-time visitor, Paxon wasn’t sure which. Perhaps both. Whatever the case, the Highlander couldn’t take his eyes off the complex, scanning everywhere, searching out shapes and forms through the shadows, imagining what was there that he couldn’t see, hoping he would be given a chance to find out before he was sent away again.
The sloop set down on an elevated landing platform, and Sebec led him off the vessel and down a ramp to a doorway opening into a tower connected to the main building. From there, he led him downstairs to where the guest quarters were located, choosing a door midway along a corridor of matching doors and guiding him inside. The room had a bed, a table next to it, a dresser with a washbasin and towels, and a single window that looked out on a courtyard one story below.
“This is your room,” Sebec said. “Sleep here tonight. Tomorrow you will see the Ard Rhys and visit with her. I will come for you when it is time. Sleep well.”
Then he went out the door, closing it behind him.
Paxon looked around the room, dropped his bag, pulled the drapes, stripped off his travel clothes, washed, and climbed into the bed.
He was asleep in seconds.
When he woke the following morning, the sun was just coming up over the eastern wall of the Keep, a brilliant gold light in a clear blue sky. He lay where he was for a few minutes, languishing in the bedding, enjoying the feeling of comfort and ease, then rose and walked to the window to peek through the curtains. Sunlight filled the courtyard below, and several black-robed figures were at work in the gardens. He stared down at them for a moment, but when he heard voices in the hallway he turned away to wash and dress.
He was just preparing to depart for a look around when a knock at the door and a greeting announced the arrival of Sebec. “One minute,” he answered.
Glancing over to where the Sword of Leah lay across the bed, he made a quick decision. He would take it with him. Leaving it behind was just asking for trouble. If he was going to lose it, they would have to take it from him by force and not through subterfuge or carelessness.
Strapping it across his back, he went out the door to join Sebec.
Together, they walked down to a dining room in which a handful of Druids and Trolls were eating breakfast. Sebec had them sit apart from everyone else, perhaps because he felt Paxon would be more comfortable that way. But it also gave them a chance to talk freely, and Paxon had more questions by now about the Druids. Sebec answered all but one—he declined to say anything further about what the Ard Rhys intended to talk to him about. Mostly, he claimed not to know. The Ard Rhys would speak for herself, and it was not
Sebec made no mention of Paxon’s sword. Not once. He rarely even glanced at it, seemingly caught up in discussing the work of the Druids. But Paxon still worried about what he would do if the order tried to take the sword away from him. How would he respond? He could not let them do it, but how far was he willing to go to prevent it from happening?
By midnight, when the lights of Paranor began to appear, Paxon was nodding off, his eyes heavy and his body lethargic. But his first sight of the Druid’s Keep brought him awake again in a hurry. The very size of it took his breath away. Massive walls, great towers soaring skyward, clusters of buildings sprawling over acres of ground, the whole of it made dark and shadowed by the ancient trees of the surrounding forest—the Keep was overwhelming. Sebec was at his side to point out which rooms each building housed, eager either to display his knowledge or to further intimidate a first-time visitor, Paxon wasn’t sure which. Perhaps both. Whatever the case, the Highlander couldn’t take his eyes off the complex, scanning everywhere, searching out shapes and forms through the shadows, imagining what was there that he couldn’t see, hoping he would be given a chance to find out before he was sent away again.
The sloop set down on an elevated landing platform, and Sebec led him off the vessel and down a ramp to a doorway opening into a tower connected to the main building. From there, he led him downstairs to where the guest quarters were located, choosing a door midway along a corridor of matching doors and guiding him inside. The room had a bed, a table next to it, a dresser with a washbasin and towels, and a single window that looked out on a courtyard one story below.
“This is your room,” Sebec said. “Sleep here tonight. Tomorrow you will see the Ard Rhys and visit with her. I will come for you when it is time. Sleep well.”
Then he went out the door, closing it behind him.
Paxon looked around the room, dropped his bag, pulled the drapes, stripped off his travel clothes, washed, and climbed into the bed.
He was asleep in seconds.
When he woke the following morning, the sun was just coming up over the eastern wall of the Keep, a brilliant gold light in a clear blue sky. He lay where he was for a few minutes, languishing in the bedding, enjoying the feeling of comfort and ease, then rose and walked to the window to peek through the curtains. Sunlight filled the courtyard below, and several black-robed figures were at work in the gardens. He stared down at them for a moment, but when he heard voices in the hallway he turned away to wash and dress.
He was just preparing to depart for a look around when a knock at the door and a greeting announced the arrival of Sebec. “One minute,” he answered.
Glancing over to where the Sword of Leah lay across the bed, he made a quick decision. He would take it with him. Leaving it behind was just asking for trouble. If he was going to lose it, they would have to take it from him by force and not through subterfuge or carelessness.
Strapping it across his back, he went out the door to join Sebec.
Together, they walked down to a dining room in which a handful of Druids and Trolls were eating breakfast. Sebec had them sit apart from everyone else, perhaps because he felt Paxon would be more comfortable that way. But it also gave them a chance to talk freely, and Paxon had more questions by now about the Druids. Sebec answered all but one—he declined to say anything further about what the Ard Rhys intended to talk to him about. Mostly, he claimed not to know. The Ard Rhys would speak for herself, and it was not
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