The Sword of Shannara, Part 1: In the Shadow of the Warlock Lord

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Authors: Terry Brooks
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leave?” exclaimed the astounded Shea. “I can’t do that!”
    “You can and you will if you wish to stay alive. The bearers of the Skull suspect you are in the valley. In a day, perhaps two, they will find you and that will be the end if you are still here. You must leave now. Travel quickly and lightly; stick with trails you know and the shelter of the forest when you can. If you are forced to travel in the open, travel only by day when their power is weaker. Allanon has told you where you are to go, but you must trust to your own resourcefulness to get you there.”
    The astonished Shea stared at the speaker for a moment and then turned to Flick who was speechless at this new turn of events. How could the man expect him just to pack up and run? It was ridiculous.
    “I have to leave,” the stranger rose suddenly, his great cloak wrapped tightly about his broad frame. “I would take you with me if I could, but I have been followed. Those who seek to destroy you will expect me to give you away eventually. I will serve you better as a decoy; perhaps they will follow me still farther, and I will be able to give you a chance to slip away without being noticed. I will ride south for a while, and then swing back toward Culhaven. We will meet again there. Remember what I said. Do not linger in the Vale—flee now, tonight! Do as Allanon has said and guard the Elf-stones with care. They are a powerful weapon.”
    Shea and Flick rose with him and shook the extended hand, noticing for the first time that the exposed arm was covered with gleaming chain mail. Without further comment, Balinor movedswiftly across the room and disappeared through the front door into the night.
    “Well, now what?” Flick asked as he collapsed back into his seat.
    “How should I know?” replied Shea wearily. “I’m no fortuneteller. I don’t have the vaguest idea if what he told us was the truth any more than what Allanon said! If he is right, and I have an uneasy suspicion that there is at least some truth in what he says, then for the sake of everyone concerned, I’ve got to get out of the valley. If someone is after me, we cannot be sure that others, like yourself and Father, won’t be hurt if I stay.”
    He gazed despondently across the room, hopelessly entangled by the tales he had been told, unable to decide what his best move would be. Flick watched him silently, knowing he could not help, but sharing his brother’s confusion and worry. Finally, he leaned across and put his hand on Shea’s shoulder.
    “I’m going with you,” he announced softly.
    Shea looked around at him, plainly startled.
    “I can’t have you doing that. Father would never understand. Besides, I may not be going anywhere.”
    “Remember what Allanon said—I’m in this with you,” Flick insisted stubbornly. “Besides, you’re my brother. I can’t let you go alone.”
    Shea stared at him wonderingly, then nodded and smiled his thanks.
    “We’ll talk about it later. At any rate, I can’t leave until I decide where I am going and what I will need—if I even go. I’ve got to leave some kind of note for Father—I can’t just walk out, despite what Allanon and Balinor think.”
    They left the table and retired to the kitchen for dinner. The remainder of the evening was spent restlessly wandering about the lounge and kitchen area, with several side trips to the sleeping quarters, where Shea rifled through his personal belongings, absently noting what he owned and setting aside stray items. Flick followedhim about silently, unwilling to leave him alone, inwardly afraid that his brother might decide to depart for Culhaven without telling him. He watched Shea push clothing and camping equipment into a leather pack, and when he asked his brother why he was packing, he was told that this was just a precaution in case he did have to flee suddenly. Shea assured him that he would not leave without telling him, but the reassurance did not make Flick any easier in

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