The First King of Shannara

He studied her for a moment, thinking. “Sit there, Mareth,” he said finally, pointing to a spot behind her. “Wait with me for the others.”


She did as she was asked. Moving to a patch of grass that had grown up where the trees did not shut out the sun, she folded her legs beneath her and seated herself in the huddle of her robes, a small dark statue. Bremen watched her for a moment, then moved back across the clearing to where Kinson waited.

“What did she want?” the Borderman asked, turning away with him to walk to the edge of the trees.

“She has asked to come with us,” Bremen answered.

Kinson arched one eyebrow speculatively. “Why would she want to do that?”

Bremen stopped and faced him. “She hasn’t told me yet.” He glanced over to where she was seated. “She gave me reasons enough to consider her request, but she is keeping something from me still.”

“So you will refuse her?”

Bremen smiled. “We will wait for the others and talk it over.”



The wait was a short one. The sun rose out of the hills and crested the forest rim minutes later, spilling light down into the shadowed recesses, chasing back the last of the gloom. Color returned to the land, shades of green, brown, and gold amid the fading dark, and birds came awake to sing their welcome to a new day. Mist clung tenaciously to the darker alcoves of the brightening woods, and through a low curtain that yet masked the walls of Paranor walked Risca and Tay Trefenwyd. Both had abandoned their Druid robes in favor of traveling clothes. Both wore backpacks slung loosely across their broad shoulders. The Elf was armed with a longbow and a slender hunting knife. The Dwarf carried a short, two-handed broadsword, had a batue-axe cinched at his waist, and bore a cudgel as thick as his forearm.

They came directly to Bremen and Kinson without seeing Mareth. As they reached him, she rose once more and stood waiting.

Tay saw her first, glancing back at the unexpected movement caught from the comer of one eye. “Mareth,” he said quietly.

Risca looked with him and grunted.

“She asks to travel with us,” Bremen announced, forgoing any preliminaries. “She claims she might be useful to us.”

Risca grunted again, shifting his bulk away from the girl. “She is a child,” he muttered.

“She is out of favor with Athabasca for trying to study magic,” Tay said, turning to look at her. The smile on his Elven face broadened. “She shows promise. I like her determination. Athabasca doesn’t frighten her one bit.”

Bremen looked at him. “Can she be trusted?”

Tay laughed. “What a strange question. Trusted with what? Trusted to do what? There’s some who say no one’s to be trusted but you and me, and I can only speak for me.” He paused and cocked his head toward Kinson. ”Good morning, Borderman. I am Tay Trefenwyd.”

The Elf shook hands with Kinson; then Risca made his greeting as well. Bremen apologized for forgetting introductions. The Borderman said he was used to it and shrugged meaningfully.

“Well, then, the girl.” Tay brought the conversation back around to where it had started. “I like her, but Risca is right. She is very young. I don’t know if I want to spend my time looking after her.”

Bremen pursed his thin lips. “She doesn’t seem to think you will have to. She claims to have use of magic.”

Risca snorted this time. “She is an apprentice. She has been at Paranor for less than three seasons. How could she know anything?”

Bremen glanced at Kinson and saw that the Borderman had figured it out. “Not likely, is it?” he said to Risca. “Well, give me your vote. Does she come with us or not?”

“No,” said Risca at once.

Kinson shrugged and shook his head in agreement.

“Tay?” Bremen asked the Elf.

Tay Trefenwyd sighed reluctantly. “No.”

Bremen took a long moment to consider their response, then nodded. “Well, even though you vote against her, I think she should come.” They stared at him. His weathered face creased with a sudden smile. “You should see yourselves! All right then, let me explain. For one thing, there is something intriguing about her request that I failed to mention. She wishes to study with me, to learn about the magic. She is willing to accept almost any conditions in order to do so. She is quite desperate about it. She did not beg or plead, but the desperation is mirrored in her eyes.”

“Bremen...” Risca began.

“For another,” the Druid continued, motioning the Dwarf into silence, “she claims to have innate magic. I think that perhaps she is telling the truth. If so, we might do well to discover its nature and put it to good use. After all, there are only the four of us otherwise.”

“We are not so desperate that...” Risca began again.