The High Druid of Shannara Trilogy

Why didn’t they open the gates?

They were still a hundred yards from the walls when Pied shouted for Ti Auberen to form up ranks. The Elves wheeled into triangle formations and turned to face the approaching riders. Erris Crewer brought the archers into position at the rear, their ranks three deep, and the Elves prepared to stand and fight. Pied felt his heart sink. They could hold for a time, but in the end they would be overrun, caught out in the open with no place to hide and no one to stand with them.

He moved to the front triangle to stand with Auberen. Neither spoke. There was nothing to say.

Then, with the Federation riders almost on top of them and the Elven archers already letting go with their first volleys, the gates of the Free-born defenses finally swung open and out rode the Red Cloaks, the horse unit of the Bordermen of Callahorn, successors to the fabled Border Legion. They burst through the opening in a wave of crimson and a cacophony of wild cries, charging hard for the Federation cavalry. Clad in heavy armor and wielding lances, they tore through the Federation riders as if they were so many straw men, breaking apart their ranks and shattering the attack. In only minutes, the entire Federation force was in flight, and the Red Cloaks owned the grasslands.

The Elves, meanwhile, were running for the gates once more, the cheers of the defenders urging them on. Pied ran with them, a surge of relief flooding through him. As he passed through the gates and behind the safety of the Free-born defenses, a hand reached out and grabbed his arm. Troon stood at his elbow, grinning broadly.

“You didn’t think I got through, did you?” she shouted at him above the din of men and horses. “Admit it, you saw the gates were closed and you thought I’d failed.” Her gray eyes danced with glee. “Didn’t I tell you not to worry?”

Pied responded by giving her a hug and was surprised when she hugged him back, even more surprised to discover how good it felt.

He moved on, searching for Ti Auberen and Erris Crewer. They had to make arrangements for what would happen next. But his Lieutenants were nowhere to be found in the surge of ebullient soldiers coming in from the grasslands. He found himself carried along by the tide, swept uphill to the heights where the main body of the Free-born was settled. There was a general milling about as the newly arrived were sorted out—the healthy directed to campsites and the wounded taken away for treatment. Pied wandered through the crowd, wondering what had possessed him to hug Troon, something commanding officers did not do to soldiers, no matter the nature of the relationship. It wasn’t really the propriety of the action that bothered him; it was the emotions it had stirred. He had known Troon since they were children, but he had never been attracted to her. She was a Tracker in his Home Guard command, the one on whom he could always rely. She was his childhood friend, someone he liked to be around and who made him smile.

But for a minute back there, he had felt like she might be something more.

He forced his thoughts to other things and walked on.


Not an hour later, as he was buckling on his weapons, he heard his name called. He’d had just enough time to find his command post, connect with Ti Auberen and Erris Crewer, wash himself from a basin of warm water, and change into fresh clothes. He looked up to see a powerfully built Dwarf with long black hair and a beard braided at the chin and just below both ears approach. Several others of similar size but less flamboyant looks flanked him, hard-eyed men wearing multiple blades and bearing scars on their hands and faces. There was not a smile to be found on any of them save for the leader, but he was smiling broadly enough for them all.

“Captain Sanderling!” he boomed, his voice deep and resonant, the sound of it strangely compelling, like that of a practiced orator. “I’m Vaden Wick, Captain. Glad you made it through. We have been anticipating your arrival ever since your Tracker informed us of your coming. Heard about your success against the Federation three days back. That was impressive. Others would simply have kept running.”

“I thought about it,” Pied said. He reached out to shake the other’s hand.

“I doubt that. You haven’t the look.” Vaden Wick tugged on the braid below his right ear, casting quick glances about the Elven camp, his sharp eyes taking in everything. “We have a lot to talk about. Can we do it now?”