The High Druid of Shannara Trilogy

They had been forced to travel cautiously, choosing a route that would keep them from being spotted by Free-born airships and would get them close enough to Arborlon and the Ellcrys that the Moric could implement its plan to get closer still. In a way, the defeat of the Federation army on the Prekkendorran had made its task easier. When finally intercepted by the Elves, the demon would say, in its guise as Sen Dunsidan, that it had come to discuss a plan for peace, to accede to conditions that would assure that the war would not resume. It would ask permission to fly to Arborlon to speak to the Elven High Council. It would give assurances that no treachery was intended and offer hostages as a show of good faith. It would demand that they let it remain aboard the Zolomach because, in the face of so many of the enemy, no right-thinking commander would leave the only protection available. The Elves would accept his condition. The Federation ship would display no weapons and pose no visible threat. They would feel confident that they could deal with anything the Prime Minister might attempt.

If persuasion failed to win them over, then the demon would use the fire launcher, which was concealed inside what appeared to be a storage cabin on the foredeck. In the event of an attack, the front section of the cabin could be dropped away and the weapon armed and fired in seconds. The Elven airships would be burned out of the sky before they knew what was happening, and the Zolomach would continue on its way. Once within range of the Ellcrys, a single direct hit was all it would take. It would be over before the Elves had a chance to do anything to stop it. In spite of having the fire launcher, the Zolomach would be destroyed and its crew killed in reprisal, but the demon would escape because it would shed Sen Dunsidan’s skin and take a new form. In the chaos, it would slip over the side of the ship. Once it was on the ground, they would never find it.

But now an unfamiliar airship was approaching, and they were still too far away from Arborlon for it to be an Elven vessel. It was flying alone, as well, which suggested it had another purpose. The demon watched it grow larger, closing steadily, in no apparent hurry and with no indication that it meant any harm.

“Captain?” the demon said to the tall man on his right. “What ship is this?”

The Zolomach’s Captain, who had been studying the vessel through his spyglass, shook his head. “No ship I know. Not a ship of the line. Not a warship.” He looked again. “Wait. Her insignia is of a burning torch on a field of black.” He trailed off. “She’s a Druid ship.”

The Moric stiffened. Shadea a’Ru? Come looking for him out here? The idea seemed preposterous. “Who’s aboard her? Tell me what you see.”

The Captain put the spyglass up again and studied the ship. “Two Druids standing at the bow. A pilot. Someone else. A boy, it looks like.”

“Let me see.”

The demon took the spyglass from the Captain and scanned the decks of the approaching airship. It was just as the Captain had said—four figures were visible on deck and no one else. No railguns were mounted, and no other weapons were to be seen. The demon lowered the spyglass and made a quick scan of the decks of the Zolomach, reassured by the presence of Federation soldiers at every turn. There was no reason to be worried.

Still, it was uneasy. What was a Druid airship doing way out there by itself? It was not there by chance. The encounter was not a coincidence.

“They’re signaling to us,” the Captain advised.

The demon glanced over at him in confusion. “Signaling?”

The Captain pointed to the line of pennants being raised along the other ship’s foremast. “They wish to come aboard and speak with you. See the pennant with the silver and black on it? That’s your pennant, Prime Minister. They must know you are aboard.”

The demon’s first impulse was to turn on the approaching airship and attack it at once. But the demon was trapped inside Sen Dunsidan’s skin, and an unprovoked aggression against an ally would not be well received by the officers and men who crewed the ship. Worse, it might result in a battle they could not win. Although the Druid airship was not armed, the Druids themselves were formidable. If they were to damage the Zolomach and force another delay, it might prove fatal to the demon’s plans to reach the Ellcrys.

White-hot fury fed the Moric’s sense of frustration, but it kept calm outwardly. It would have to deal with the situation in a diplomatic way. “Move alongside them and ask what they wish to speak to us about,” he ordered.

The Captain raised his own line of pennants, then maneuvered the Zolomach until she was close by her counterpart. The Druids stood at the railing, black-cloaked and hooded. The Moric glanced at the name carved into the ship’s bow. SWIFT SURE.

“Sen Dunsidan!” shouted one of the Druids, the taller of the two, a woman by the sound of her voice. She kept her hood raised. “Shadea a’Ru sends greetings.”

The Moric felt a twinge of panic. If Shadea had sent this ship and these Druids, then nothing good could come of it. After all, the Ard Rhys had already tried to kill it once. There was nothing to say that she was not about to try to do so again.

But then the demon remembered that it was no longer in the guise of Iridia Eleri, and it was the sorceress whom Shadea had sent assassins to kill. Sen Dunsidan was Shadea’s ally. So far as the demon knew, nothing had happened to change that.

It calmed itself. “What does Shadea wish of me?” it shouted back in Sen Dunsidan’s deep, resonant voice. “How can I be of service to the Ard Rhys?”