The High Druid of Shannara Trilogy

It made sense. While the Druids might profess that their intentions were honorable, there was good reason to think otherwise.

They were silent again for a time, pondering their fresh insight, trying to think through what they should do about it. Bek felt his wife tighten her grip on him. “We can’t help them. We can’t put Penderrin in any more danger than he is already in.”

“I know.”

“I hate it that he’s become involved in this, in your sister’s life, in Druid intrigues and gamesmanship.”

“Don’t underestimate Pen. He is smart and capable, and he has some experience in the world. He might not have magic to protect him, but he has his wits. Besides, if he’s with Ahren, he’s as protected as he would be with us.”

“I wouldn’t agree with that. Anyway, he shouldn’t have to be protected in the first place.”

He felt her anger building. “Rue, listen to me. We can’t change what’s happened. We don’t even know for sure what that is. That’s what we came to find out. Maybe we will, once we have a chance to talk with that young Druid. In the meantime, it doesn’t do us any good to get too angry to think.”

“What makes you think I’m angry?”

“Well—”

“Don’t you think I have a right to be angry?”

“Well—”

“Are you suggesting I can’t be angry and think at the same time?”

He hesitated, uncertain of his reply, then felt her begin to shake with suppressed laughter. “Very funny,” he whispered.

She poked him in the ribs. “I thought so.”

They lay quietly, listening to each other breathe. Bek ran his hands along his wife’s ribs and down her legs. He could feel the ridges where scar tissue had formed over wounds she had suffered twenty years earlier aboard the Jerle Shannara. They were a testimony to her strength and resiliency, a reminder of how hard her early life had been. He had always believed her to be stronger than he was, tougher of mind and body both. He had never stopped thinking of her that way. Others might think that because he possessed the use of the wishsong’s magic, he was the stronger. Some might even think that being the male in their partnership made him the stronger. But he knew better.

“I won’t get angry until after I get Penderrin back,” she said suddenly, her words so soft he could barely hear them. “I don’t make any promises after that.”

“I wouldn’t expect it.”

“We will get him back, Bek. I don’t care what it takes.”

“We’ll get him back.”

“How?”

“You asked me that earlier.”

“You didn’t answer.”

“I was thinking. I’m still thinking.”

“Well, hurry up. I’m worried.”

He smiled at her insistence, but was glad she couldn’t see him doing so. She was scared for her son, and he would not want her to mistake how he was treating the matter. He was worried, too. But he understood that what was needed was a calm, measured approach to untangling the puzzle surrounding Pen’s and Grianne’s disappearances. Rue’s strength might lie in her determination, but his lay in keeping his wits.

“I’ll hurry,” he promised.

“I would appreciate that.”

“I know.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Minutes later, they were asleep.





EIGHT


Bek and Rue were awake early, troubled enough by the challenges that lay ahead that the first inklings of light in the east were sufficient to bring them out of their fitful sleep. They washed and dressed and found breakfast waiting outside the door in the form of bread, cheese, fruit, and cold ale. When they retrieved the food tray, the hallway was deserted save for the Gnome Hunters, who were stationed across the hallway. Bek nodded agreeably but got no response.

“I don’t think we are guests in the usual sense of the word,” he told Rue as he closed the door.

Within an hour, Traunt Rowan was knocking, his eyes bright with anticipation. “Are you ready to try now, Bek?” he asked.

Bek was. He had a plan, although he hadn’t confided it to Rue. He told her when they woke that he knew what to do, but that it was better if he kept it to himself. Her own response should not seem forced or planned. She must trust him even if it looked like he was doing something he should not. He understood what was needed. No one at Paranor could be trusted with Pen’s or Grianne’s whereabouts. If he was lucky enough to discover that information, it belonged to them and them alone.