The High Druid of Shannara Trilogy

Ahead, the airfield came into view, settled in a swale at the center of the encampment east, close to the draw that separated the allied armies. There was noticeable activity, even from a distance. Ships were being readied for liftoff, crews scurrying across the decks and atop the rigging, tightening draws and loosening sails. Railguns were already fitted in place, and missiles were stacked in boxes beside them. Two dozen airships were set to fly, the larger part of the fleet, the best of the warships it comprised. The King was determined that the attack would succeed, holding nothing back against the possibility that it wouldn’t.

As he descended from the higher flat, Pied caught sight of the King grouped with his airship commanders in a tight circle by the flagship Ellenroh, talking. The discussion appeared heated, but all the heat was coming from the King. His Captains were doing little more than listening.

Then Pied caught sight of Kiris and Wencling, standing off to one side of their father, and his heart sank. The King had decided to take his sons with him, after all. In spite of Pied’s reservations. In spite of his advice. His nephews were looking at their feet, trying not to draw attention to themselves, staring ill at ease and out of place, and he guessed they didn’t like the idea of being there any better than he did.

Taking a deep breath, he walked across the airfield and up to the King.

“Captain,” the King greeted on catching sight of him. He would never use Pied’s name or refer to their familiar relationship in a situation like this. “We are ready to depart. No word, I gather, from your scouts? No? Then we have no further reason to delay.”

“My lord, I wish you would reconsider,” Pied said quickly. “I would feel better for your safety if we waited just one more day. My scouts should return—”

“My safety is in good hands with these men,” the King interrupted, an edge to his voice. “I thought we had settled this earlier, Captain. Was there something I said that wasn’t clear to you?”

There was no mistaking the anger in his voice. He did not care to be challenged in front of his airship Captains and his sons and particularly not about the coming attack. He was telling Pied he had gone as far as he was going to be allowed to go, and that he had better not try to go farther.

But Pied had no choice. Not if he was to keep his self-respect. “My lord, you made yourself perfectly clear. I respect your thinking. But I have been a soldier for a long time, and I have learned to trust my instincts. They tell me that something isn’t right about what we’re seeing—about the unexplained Rover departure and weakening of the Federation fleet. Nor do I feel right about the mobilization reported along the Federation front. I know it seems to be in response to the Rover departure, but I think it might be something else. If I could suggest an alternative plan, my lord, I would ask you to take an exploratory flight to see—”

“Enough, Captain!” the King snapped, cutting him short. There was a hushed silence. The King was seething. “More than enough. You are Captain of the Home Guard. Limit yourself to that and leave the decision making to me!”

“As Captain of the Home Guard, I am responsible for your safety and must do everything in my power to protect you!” Pied snapped back. “I can’t do that if you won’t let me!”

The silence turned as frosty as midwinter in the Charnals. Pied caught a glimpse of the shocked faces of the King’s sons, who stared at him in disbelief—Kiris, tall and dark like his father, and Wencling, fair and small like his mother. No one talked that way to their father, certainly not outside the family and not in public. Pied had crossed the line, but his conscience refused to let him back down.

Kellen Elessedil turned away. “Captains,” he addressed his airship commanders, “prepare to set out. Board everyone. Make certain they know what is expected of them.”

He gestured to a messenger standing off to one side. “Carry the message I gave you to Commanders Droshen and Wick. Go quickly and tell them to take whatever precautions they feel necessary in case of a counterattack. Make certain they know that I have already left.”

When everyone was gone but his sons, he turned back to Pied. “You have abused your position as Captain of the Home Guard. As a consequence, you will not be coming with me. I don’t trust you anymore. You’ve lost your nerve. I don’t want my life or the lives of my family and soldiers in your hands. You are relieved of your duties. My safety is no longer your responsibility. Perhaps others, more capable of understanding the nature of your office, will serve me better.”

He paused. “Just because my wife still favors you, a kindness she would do well to reconsider, doesn’t give you the right to question me as you have just done—in front of my sons and my officers.”

He turned to his sons, beckoned for them to follow, and stalked angrily toward the Ellenroh. Pied watched them go, stunned. He should say something more, he knew. He should make another attempt to stop him or maybe just try to explain himself better. But he couldn’t make himself move.

He was still standing there when the airships lifted off like huge hunting birds and swung south toward the Federation lines.


Drumundoon, who had waited patiently in the background until Pied’s attention had shifted away from the departing vessels, came up to him.