The First King of Shannara

“How helpful,” Jerle ventured irritably. He had been watching the local’s eyes stray as well and was clearly displeased with his attitude. “Is that the best you can do?”


Vree Erreden shrugged.

Jerle was incensed. “Perhaps you could do better if you had paid closer attention to what Tay was saying!”

The locat looked at him, squinting myopically. A slow fire kindled in his eyes. “Let me tell you something. When Tay Trefenwyd came to me to ask my help, I read his mind. I can do that sometimes. I saw Bremen’s vision, the one Tay just described, and my memory of it is quite clear. That vision is real, my friend. If it were not, I would not be here. It is real, and the place it shows is real, and of that much I am certain. Even so, I cannot find it without more than what I know right now!”

“Jerle, you have traveled this country often,” Tay broke in quickly, anxious to avoid a confrontation. “Is there nothing of what I have described that is at all familiar?”

His friend shook his head, a disgruntled look settling over his broad features. “Most of my travel has been confined to the passes — to Halys Cut and Worl Run, and what lies beyond. This particular formation of mountains — the twin peaks split like two fingers, in particular — sounds like it could be any of a dozen pairs I have seen.”

“But you’re not sure which?”

“What does it sound like to you?” his friend snapped.

“Which way do you think we should go, then?” Tay pressed.

He could not understand the other’s uncharacteristic display of temper.

Jerle climbed to his feet. “How would I know? Ask ‘my friend’ the locat here to give you his best guess!”

“One minute,” Vree Erreden said quickly, and rose as well. He stood facing Jerle, small and slight in the other man’s shadow, but unintimidated. “Would you be willing to try something? I might be able to help you remember if you’ve seen this particular formation.”

Tay jumped up as well, realizing at once what the locat intended. “Can you do for Jerle what you did for me?” he asked quickly. “Can you recover his memory like you did Bremen’s vision?”

“What are you talking about?” Jerle snapped, looking from one to the other.

“Perhaps,” Vree Erreden answered Tay, then looked at Jerle Shannara. “I told you before. Sometimes I can read minds. I did so earlier with Tay to get a look at Bremen’s vision. I can try it with you to see if your subconscious retains some memory of this formation we seek.”

Jerle flushed. “Try your magic out on someone else!”

He wheeled away, but Tay grabbed his arm and brought him about. “But we don’t have anyone else, do we, Jerle? We only have you. Are you afraid?”

The big man stared at him with something very close to rage.

Tay held his ground, mostly because he didn’t have any choice.

The night sky had cleared, and its broad expanse was filled with stars. Their brightness was almost blinding. Standing beneath their light in the shadow of the mountains, locked in this unexpected confrontation with his best friend, Tay felt oddly exposed.

Jerle carefully freed his arm from Tay’s grip. “I’m not afraid of anything, and you know it,” he said softly.

Tay nodded. “I do know it. Now please let Vree try.”

They sat down again, grouped close together in the silence.

Vree Erreden took Jerle Shannara’s hands in his own, holding them loosely, looking boldly into the other’s eyes. Then he closed his own. Tay watched the pair uneasily. Jerle was as tense as a cat prepared to spring, ready to bolt at the first indication that he was in any kind of danger. The locat was by contrast calm and detached, especially now, gone somewhere deep inside himself to find what he was looking for. They remained like that for a few moments, locked together, an odd alliance, neither revealing anything of what was happening.

Then Vree Erreden released Jerle Shannara’s hands and gave a short nod. “I have it. A place to start, anyway. Your memory is very good. The twin peaks in the form of a V are called the Pinchers — at least by you.”

“I remember now,” the big man said softly. “Five or six years ago, when I was scouting for a third passage onto Hoare Flats. Back in the mountains north of Worl Run, deep in the thickest mass. There was no chance that a pass would go through there, so we gave it up. But I remember the formation. Yes, I do remember!”

Then his enthusiasm seemed to diminish, and the hard edge of his irritation returned. “Enough of this.” He nodded curtly, more to himself than to them, and rose. “We have our starting point. I hope everyone is happy. Now perhaps I can get some sleep.”

He turned and stalked away. Tay and Vree Erreden watched him go, neither of them speaking. “He’s not usually like this,” Tay said finally.