Terry Brooks - The Elfstones of Shannara

«Then you knew?»

Allanon nodded. «I knew. I am a Druid.»

Ander took a deep breath. «I will do the best that I can, Allanon.»

«Then you will do well, Ander Elessedil.»

He watched the Elven Prince move back to the dead King, saw him cover his father as he would a sleeping child, then kneel once more at the bedside.

Allanon turned and slipped noiselessly from the room, from the manor house, from the city, and from the land. No one saw him go.

It was dawn when Wil Ohmsford was shaken gently awake, silver–gray light seeping through curtained windows to chase the fading dark. His eyes blinked slowly open and he found himself staring up at Perk.

«Wil?» The little Wing Rider’s face was a mask of seriousness.

«Hello, Perk.»

«How are you feeling?»

«A little better, I think.»

«That’s good.» Perk tried a quick smile. «I was really worried.»

Wil smiled back. «Me, too.»

Perk sat down on the edge of the bed. «I’m sorry to wake you, but I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.»

«You’re leaving?»

The youth nodded. «I should have left last night, but I had to rest Genewen. She was pretty tired after that long flight. But I have to leave now. I should have been back at the Wing Hove two days ago. They will probably be searching for me.» He paused. «But they’ll understand when I explain what happened. They won’t be mad.»

«I hope not. I wouldn’t want that.»

«My Uncle Dayn said he would explain it to them, too. Did you know that my Uncle Dayn was here, Wil? My grandfather sent him. Uncle Dayn said I acted like a true Wing Rider. He said what Genewen and I did was very important.»

Wil pushed himself up slightly against his pillows. «So it was, Perk. Very important.»

«I couldn’t just leave you. I knew you might need me.»

«We needed you very, much.»

«And I didn’t think my grandfather would mind if I disobeyed just this once.

«I don’t think he will mind.»

Perk looked down at his hands. «Wil, I’m sorry about the Lady Amberle. I really am.»

Wil nodded slowly. «I know, Perk.»

«She really was enchanted, wasn’t she? She was enchanted and the enchantment turned her into the tree.» He looked up quickly. «That was what she wanted, wasn’t it? To turn into the tree so the Demons would disappear? That was the way it was supposed to be?»

The Valeman swallowed hard. «Yes.»

«I was really scared, you know,” Perk said quietly. «I wasn’t sure whether that was supposed to happen or not. It was so sudden. She never said anything about it to me before it happened, so when it did happen it scared me.»

«I don’t think she wanted to scare you.»

«No, I don’t think so either.»

«She just didn’t have time enough to explain.»

Perk shrugged. «Oh, I know that. It was just so sudden.»

They were quiet a moment, and then the little Wing Rider rose. «I just wanted to say goodbye, Wil. Would you come visit me sometime? Or I could come to see you — but that wouldn’t be until I’m older. My family won’t let me fly out of the Westland.»

«I will come visit you,” Wil promised. «Soon.»

Perk gave a sort of half–wave and walked to the door. His hand was on the latch when he paused and glanced back at the Valeman.

«I really liked her, Wil — a whole lot.»

«I liked her, too, Perk.»

The little Wing Rider smiled briefly and disappeared through the door.

They went home then, all those who had come to Arborlon to stand with the Elves, all but two. The Wing Riders went first, at the dawn of the day that began the reign of Ander Elessedil as the new King of the Land Elves — three who remained of the five who had flown north together and the boy called Perk. They left quietly, with barely a word to anyone but the young King, and were gone before the sun fully crested the eastern forests, their golden–hued Rocs chasing after the disappearing night like the first rays of the morning sun.

At midday the Rock Trolls departed, Amantar at their head, as fierce and proud as when they had come, weapons raised in salute as the Elven people gathered along the streets and in the tree–lanes to cheer their passing. For the first time in more than a thousand years, Troll and Elf parted not as enemies, but as friends.

The Dwarves stayed several days longer, lending to the Elves the benefit of their vast engineering expertise by assisting in the drafting of plans for the rebuilding of the shattered Elfitch. A most difficult task lay ahead in that rebuilding, for not only was it necessary to replace the demolished fifth rampway, but most of the remainder of the structure was in need of shoring up as well. It was the kind of challenge that the redoubtable Browork relished; with the aid of hose Sappers yet able to work, he traced for the Elves the steps by which the task might best be accomplished. When finally he did take leave of Ander and the Elven people, he did so with the promise that another company of Dwarf Sappers — one in better condition to serve than his own — would be sent at once to give whatever aid was necessary.

«We know that we can depend upon the Dwarves.» Ander gripped Browork’s rough hand in parting.

«Always,” the crusty Dwarf agreed with a nod. «See that you remember that when we have need of you.»

Finally it was the turn of the men of Callahorn to depart the handful of Legion Free Corps and Old Guard who had survived the ferocious struggle to hold the Elfitch. Not a dozen of the former remained and of those not six would fight again. The command had virtually ceased to exist, the bodies of its soldiers scattered between the passes of the Breakline and Arborlon. Yet once more the tall, scarfaced Borderman called Stee Jans had survived where so many others had not.

He came to Ander Elessedil early on the morning of the sixth day following their victory over the Demon hordes, riding out on his great blue roan to where the Elven King stood at the edge of the Carolan and reviewed with his engineers the pans drafted by the Dwarf Sappers. Excusing himself hurriedly Ander walked quickly to where the Free Corps Commander had dismounted and stood waiting. Ignoring the nod of respect the big man gave him, Ander seized the other’s hand and gripped it firmly.

«You are well again, Commander?» he greeted him, smiling.

«Well enough, my Lord,” Stee Jans smiled back. «I came to thank you and to say goodbye. The Legion rides again for Callahorn.»

Ander shook his head slowly «It is not for you to thank me. It is for me — and for the Elven people — to thank you. No one gave more to us and to this land than the men of the Free Corps. And you, Stee Jans — what would we have done without you?»

The Borderman was quiet for a moment before speaking. «My Lord, I think we found in the people and the land a cause worth fighting for. All that we gave, we gave freely. And you did not lose this fight — that is what matters.»

«How could we lose with you to aid us?» Ander gripped his hand anew. He paused. «What will you do now?»

Stee Jans shrugged. «The Free Corps is gone. Perhaps they’ll rebuild. Perhaps not. If not, perhaps there will be a new Legion command. I will ask for one, in any case.»

Ander nodded slowly. «Ask me, Stee Jans — ask me and the command is yours. I would be honored to have you. And the Elven people would be honored. You are one of us. Will you consider it?»

The Borderman smiled, turned, and swung back into the saddle. «I am already considering it, King Ander Elessedil.» He saluted smartly. «Until we meet again, my Lord — strength to you and to the Elves.»

He reined the big roan about, gray cloak flying, and rode east across the Carolan. Ander watched him go, waving after him. Until we meet again, Borderman, he replied without speaking.