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Authors: Terry Brooks

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BOOK: The High Druid's Blade: The Defenders of Shannara
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So she knew about his sword. Paxon nodded but did not reply. He feared the worst now, could almost feel it happening. She had brought him here to claim the sword for the Druid order, and she would take it away in spite of his protests. He would want to do something to prevent her, but in the end common sense would prevail. Her magic was too powerful for him to resist. And he would never even think to try to use the sword against her. It would be pointless.

“Do you have to take it from me?” he asked finally.

“I don’t have to,” she answered, “but I should. Magic is not allowed in the hands of those who are not trained to use it, even if they have come by it in a legitimate way. It is a matter of public safety that such magic should be collected and held by the Druids.”

“The Druid Edict,” he said. “I know.”

“Still, that is not why I brought you to Paranor.” She looked off into the gardens, as if measuring something with her gaze. “You discovered the magic quite by accident. But you used it to good purpose—to save your sister. And you exercised reasonable judgment in doing so. What do you intend to do with it if you keep it?”

He thought a moment, and then shook his head helplessly. “I don’t really know.”

“Who else knows of the sword’s power besides you? Your sister? Does your mother know?”

He shook his head no. “Just Arcannen, as you might have already guessed if you know how I rescued my sister.”

“Tell me what happened, Paxon. Don’t leave anything out. I may be able to tell you more than you know about this business by the time you’ve finished.”

So Paxon, curious now as to what she meant, told her everything, from when Jayet came running up to get him at the cottage to when he returned home safely from Wayford with Chrys in tow. Aphenglow listened without interrupting, attentive to his every word.

When he finished, she gave a deep sigh. “The Druid order knows of Arcannen. This is not the first time he has been involved in something that works counter to our purposes. He will have to be dealt with eventually. He is a skilled sorcerer, but he is also venal and treacherous. You are right to be worried about him. He will come after you sooner or later. He will still want your sword, and he will not give up on trying to get it until he has it.”

“I thought as much.”

“You don’t know the half of it yet. Let me tell you what I suspect is the rest. Ostensibly, your sister got involved with throwing dice at a tavern with a stranger, who later turned out to be Arcannen. She bet more than she had, lost, and couldn’t pay. So he took her out of the tavern and back to Wayford where she could work off her debt at his pleasure house. You tried to stop it from happening, failed at the airfield, but picked yourself up and went after them. While you were attempting a rescue at Dark House, you drew out your sword and discovered it contained magic that responded to you. The magic saved your life. You fought your way free and rescued your sister. All well and good.”

She paused. “But ask yourself this. Isn’t it odd that he made a point of goading you into coming after him to save your sister and while doing so pointedly suggested you bring a weapon? So you did; you brought the Sword of Leah. But what if that was what he wanted you to do, what he expected of you all along? You’ve said you believe he recognized the power of the sword when he saw it—that you could tell as much when he tried to prevent you from drawing it out of its sheath. What if I told you he knew about the power of the sword all along? That he lured you to Dark House by kidnapping your sister so you would bring him the sword?”

Paxon frowned, considering. Arcannen
had
seemed suspiciously interested in the sword. “But if he wanted it so badly, why wouldn’t he just steal it from the cottage in the first place? It was hanging in plain sight over the fireplace. If he knew of it beforehand, wouldn’t it have been easier to get possession of it that way?”

“What if he wasn’t interested only in the Sword of Leah, Paxon, but in you as well? What if the sword was of no use to him without someone who could wield it—someone who was a member of the Leah family, a descendant of all those Leahs who actually used the sword in times now past?”

“How would he know that?”

“Let’s assume for the moment that he did.”

“All right. Then how could he make me use it the way he wanted?”

“Perhaps in the same way he used his own magic to make your sister play a game of dice she could not possibly win.”

So Chrys hadn’t really been careless; she had been tricked. Paxon thought back on what had happened at the airfield when he had braced Arcannen and again when the sorcerer had been waiting for him at Dark House. What the Ard Rhys was telling him seemed to fit.

“So he knew of the sword and wanted it, but needed me to release its power, and that is why he kidnapped Chrysallin?”

“Except his plan fell apart when you drew out the sword and decided to stand up to him. The magic responds to attacks faster than you can think to ask it to. That has always been the hallmark of Faerie magic. What Allanon did to the Sword of Leah all those years ago at the Hadeshorn was to infuse your blade with that same kind of magic. So it acted to protect you and defeat Arcannen. But that’s not going to be the end of this, is it?”

“No, it doesn’t seem likely,” he agreed. He felt a sinking in his stomach. He was in a lot more danger than he had imagined. “If he went to all that trouble, he won’t give up until he has the sword in hand. He’ll keep coming after me until he gets what he wants. What should I do?”

Her smile returned. “This is what I brought you here to talk about. I want to make you an offer. Come to Paranor and live with us. Learn to use the magic of the sword fully and responsibly. We can help you do that. When your training is complete, remain here with us for three years as our paladin. It would constitute repayment in full for our services and provide you with practical experience using your sword. You would be given tasks to complete, helping us to secure various items of magic and to deal with those who refuse to cooperate in our efforts to protect against misuse of that magic. At the end of three years, if you so choose, you would be free to go.”

She paused. “And you would be allowed to take your sword with you when you leave.”

Paxon stared at her in disbelief. “Are you asking me to join the Druid order? To become a Druid?”

She shook her head. “I am asking you to serve with the order, not to join it. But there is work and responsibility enough just in that, Paxon. I wish you to be what was once called a Knight-errant. Our order comprises students and teachers, but few are trained as warrior Druids, as some once were. Few have fighting skills and weapons knowledge. And no one has a weapon like you do. You could accompany our Druids while they do their work searching out and recovering lost magic and confronting the threats such magic poses. You could help keep them safe. You could act as their protector. Will you consider doing so?”

He knew right away it was what he wanted, what he had been searching for—a chance to do something besides haul freight and pass the time between runs. He also understood the importance of what it would mean to be associated with the Druids. He was not afraid of what that might involve or of the Druids themselves; he was confident in his ability to make good choices when the need arose. Still, an acceptance of the offer could not be given lightly, and the offer itself should not be accepted out of hand. There were still uncertainties to be resolved.

“By doing this, you would remove me from Leah and from any danger of Arcannen catching me unawares? Or coming after my sister again?”

“That is my thinking.” She arched one eyebrow. “Though we might need to do a little more early on.”

“But my mother and sister depend on me to work the airfreight business,” he said. “There is no money for them if I leave.”

“We will give them money to replace what your departure will cost them, enough so that they can live comfortably. You can either sell the business or ask someone to run it for you in your absence. I will repeat what I said before. You needn’t worry for your family’s welfare. If I deem it necessary, I can provide them with someone to help look after things.”

She was promising an awful lot, and it suggested that she badly wanted him to accept her offer, which was both reassuring and a bit intimidating. What would she ask of him as an agent of the order? How much would he be expected to do in her service?

“What if, after you’ve trained me, you ask me to do something I don’t feel right about, something I can’t make myself do?”

She regarded him steadily. “I won’t ask you to do anything like that. We aren’t what some people say we are, Paxon. We don’t act in ways that bring harm to those who don’t invite it. And should you feel we are crossing a line you yourself would not cross, we will let you step aside.”

“But I will be expected to fight?”

“Mostly, you will need to be
prepared
to fight. Your presence alone should help deflect most of the violence.”

Paxon wasn’t sure that was true, but he saw no point in arguing about it. What really mattered was whether or not this was something he wanted to do badly enough to take whatever risks the work offered. “I don’t know if I’m up to this,” he admitted. “I don’t know if I’m good enough to do what you expect. What if I’m not?”

The smile returned. “Paxon, I’ve lived a long time, and I’ve come to be a pretty good judge of character. I’ve been wrong about people, but not very often. So when I tell you I believe you are what we need and will be able to do what’s expected, you can feel confident that I am right. I think you should consider giving it a chance. If we are both wrong, you can walk away.”

She held up one cautionary finger. “You’ve been looking to do something more with your life; I could see it in your eyes when I told you what I wanted you to do. You want a chance to do something important, something that matters. You want your life to have real purpose. Why not see if the opportunity I am offering you isn’t what you’ve been looking for? Why not discover if it isn’t the chance you are seeking?”

“You make a persuasive argument,” he admitted, smiling back at her. “How long do I have to decide?”

“Do you really need time to make this decision?” she asked gently. “Don’t you already know the answer? Isn’t the answer in your heart?”

He stared at her in surprise. He hadn’t expected this. He had believed she would tell him to take the remainder of the day to think it over, maybe more. He waited for her to something more, but she remainder silent, watching him.

He looked down momentarily, considering her words, and then met her steady gaze once more. “All right,” he said. “I’ll do it.”

She rose and extended her hand to him. “Welcome to your new home, Paxon Leah,” she said.

And immediately he knew he had made the right choice.

S
EVEN

S
O
P
AX
ON
WENT
BACK
TO
THE
H
IGHLANDS
OF
L
EAH
, departing Paranor with the young Druid Sebec at the helm of the same two-masted clipper that had brought him there. The Ard Rhys had given him two days in which to make his arrangements at home before returning to the Druid’s Keep and his new life, and he was aware of how little time that allowed him to do what was needed. To begin with, he had to figure out how to tell his mother and his sister what he had committed to, and he had to do so as soon as they returned.

Which meant, in turn, that he had to figure out how much he was going to tell either one of them about why Aphenglow Elessedil had asked him to come to Paranor at all.

After all, neither one knew anything about the magic contained in the Sword of Leah. He had kept that secret from both. His mother didn’t even know what had happened to Chrys in her absence—his sister’s kidnapping and rescue. Everything surrounding that episode was still just between himself and Jayet.

But he had to offer some sort of explanation about why the Ard Rhys of the Fourth Druid Order had suddenly decided that Paxon was a candidate for training with weapons and magic until he could serve as a protector and paladin on quests to seek out errant and stolen magic for collection and storage at Paranor. Or, even if he left out the part about training with magic, why she would even have known about him in the first place. It wasn’t as if the Leahs had maintained a close personal relationship with the Druids over the years.

He thought about it all the way home, and he was still mulling it over when they landed at the airfield and Sebec sent him on his way.

“I will be here again in two days at midday, waiting for you,” the other told him, and then added cheerfully, “Don’t be late.”

Then he was off, the clipper lifting away and disappearing north. Paxon watched it go and set off for the cottage. He would talk to his sister first. Whatever he ended up telling his mother, he wanted to be sure Chrys would not contradict him.

She wasn’t home when he arrived, and his mother was out, as well. So he dumped his backpack on his bed and went off to Brew Tide, the tavern where Jayet now worked and where he imagined he might find his sister. He went down into the valley and the city, angling east, away from the airfield and toward the army barracks. Upon reaching the tavern and stepping through the doors, he found the girls engaged in conversation at the far end of the bar.

They rushed over to welcome him back, hugging and kissing him, though it seemed to him that Jayet did so with a little more enthusiasm. After exchanging a few words with both, he separated his sister from Jayet and sat her down at an empty table. The tavern was quiet in the midafternoon hours, so they were able to talk uninterrupted and in private.

“Does Mother know anything yet about what happened to you?” he asked.

“Not from me,” she announced flatly. “I wouldn’t tell her.”

“Then we won’t start now,” he said. “But I do have to tell her something because I’ve been asked to come train at Paranor by Aphenglow Elessedil.”

Chrys gave a surprised gasp. “Paranor?” she whispered, leaning close. “How did that happen?”

What he told her was that word had gotten back to the Ard Rhys about what had happened at Dark House. Because she knew of Arcannen and considered him an enemy of the Druids and opposed to their efforts to find and reclaim magic throughout the Four Lands, she had paid close attention to the news and made an effort to find out more about Paxon. Having done so, she decided she wanted him to come to Paranor to train in the use of weapons—and perhaps, one day, with magic as well. After his training was complete, he was to take a position for a period of three years in the service of the order, aiding Druids in their efforts to track down rumors of magic, acting as protector and companion to them while they were away from the Keep.

“You’ve decided then?” she asked. “Are you certain about this?”

“She made me the offer and said I had to make up my mind right away. Otherwise, I would have come back and discussed it with you and Mother first. But the truth is, I knew this was what I wanted. I’ve felt trapped in the airship freight business. It was a living for us, but I never wanted to do it forever, and now I don’t have to. You and Mother will be given money to live on. I’ll find someone to run the freight business in my absence. If you want, you can help with this. And you don’t have to worry about Arcannen. For a few months, there will be someone from the Druid order living in Leah to keep an eye on you, just in case Arcannen decides to pay a return visit. You won’t know who is looking after you; but you will be safe while I’m gone.”

“I’m not worried anyway,” his sister declared, looking irritated. “I won’t be caught off guard like that again.”

Paxon almost said,
Magic can always catch you off guard, and that’s what happened the last time,
but he decided to keep his mouth shut.

“Will you be all right if I do this?”

She grinned. “I want you to do this. I want you to be happy. If this is what you’ve been looking for, then you should go. Mother and I will be fine.” She paused, turning suddenly serious. “But you’ll come back to visit us, won’t you?”

“You know I will. And if you have need of me, for any reason, you will be able to contact me at Paranor.” His smile, when he unleashed it, made him feel suddenly giddy. “I can’t tell you how excited I am to be doing this!”

She snorted. “I can’t believe they want you, of all people. And all because of me. I guess you owe me for that, big brother.”

“Just promise me you won’t ever do anything like that again, and I’ll be even deeper in your debt. We have to go now. I need to sit Mother down and tell her what I’m going to do, but I wanted to tell you first. I want to be sure you will back me up. I don’t want to tell her about Dark House and Arcannen. That will only cause her to worry. So even though that is the real reason the Ard Rhys found out about me, I’m going to tell Mother it was because she knew of the Leahs and their long history with the Druids and thought I might be a good choice because of that.”

His sister’s brow crinkled with doubt. “You think she will believe it?”

He shrugged. “Let’s go find out.”

It turned out their mother never questioned it. She was so happy that her son was finally receiving the recognition and opportunity she felt he deserved that she skipped right past the part about why he was being asked and simply accepted it as his due. He did have to reassure her that he would be all right, that none of this was particularly dangerous, even though he knew in his heart it could be. He shaded all his dissembling just so, both with his mother and his sister, and the matter of the Sword of Leah never came up.

When he went to bed that night, he had mixed feelings about what he had done. He felt it was for the best that he kept certain things back, offering just enough details for reassurance but not so much that it would cause them to worry. Still, lying to them felt wrong. At some point, he would have to tell them about the sword. He wasn’t sure why he was keeping it from them now except he was afraid that knowing he would be involved with magic would cause them to feel less exited about his choice and to view his departure with more trepidation than pleasure. The less they knew—or could talk about—the safer they would be.

Whatever the case, it took a long time before he fell asleep.

Two days later, as scheduled, he flew out of Leah for Paranor and the Druid’s Keep. Sebec was waiting for him at the airfield, as promised, and welcomed Paxon warmly. Stowing the Highlander’s bags in a rear storage compartment, he took the clipper up for a final slow circling of the city that allowed Paxon to enjoy a prolonged final viewing of its buildings and hills, and then headed north.

In the interim since his return from speaking with Aphenglow Elessedil and pursuant to her suggestion that he set his business affairs in order, Paxon had approached several friends to see if they might be willing to take over the running of his airfreight business. But none of them had either the time or inclination to take on the extra work, so he had been forced to talk to his larger competitors. None of them was interested, either, but three made offers to buy the business outright. Two of the offers were so ridiculously low that Paxon walked out on them. The third was reasonable, and he liked the man he was dealing with. So on impulse, and with time slipping away, he agreed to the sale. He realized he was cutting ties with the city and his life that he hadn’t planned on, but sometimes when you took a chance it was better to hold nothing back and to go all-in.

He was paid that very day and signed papers for the transfer of all airships, spare parts, and the storage shed. He kept his Sprint and arranged for the manager of the airfield to store and care for it in his absence. He told his mother and his sister what he had done, but neither complained or voiced concern. It was the right thing to so, his mother insisted. Just so long as we have money to buy food, said his sister.

Though hesitant about doing so, he went to Jayet at the Brew Tide to tell her good-bye. She was cheerful and calm until the very end, when she broke down in tears and kissed him and told him she would think of him every day and pretty much clung to him until he pried her loose. It was a little disconcerting, but he supposed she felt a little more possessive of him because of her involvement in getting Chrys back from Arcannen. Whatever the case, he promised he would take care of himself and not indulge in reckless behavior and be back to see her no matter what when he returned to visit his family.

So with farewells exchanged and the airfreight business disposed of, he departed with a sense of finality, prepared to begin anew, his future a bright uncertainty that beckoned with all the flash and elusiveness of a colorful songbird. Nothing was promised him, and what he might gain from this experience was yet to be determined, but the possibilities were out there in recognizable and tempting forms that drew him on.

He made the journey in relative silence, wrapped in thoughts of what lay ahead. Sebec let him be, perhaps sensing what he was going through. It took them all day to reach Paranor, the sun just setting as they skimmed the forests surrounding the Keep before setting down on the airship landing pad. Sebec took Paxon to his new quarters, a room higher up in the building this time, and got him settled in. Then he accompanied Paxon to dinner and introduced him to a few of his friends—Avelene, with her lavender eyes and bladed features; Zabb Ruh, come from the deep Southland and a farming village called Terran, where he had been viewed as a warlock and worse because of his talent with magic; and Oost Mondara, who would be Paxon’s instructor in the use of weapons.

This last introduction was a bit unsettling for a couple of reasons. First, Oost was a Gnome, which meant he was small and wiry and not very impressive physically. How he could instruct anyone as big as Paxon on how to use blades, where close combat was almost always necessary, was difficult to imagine. Second, Oost barely gave him a glance, providing a perfunctory greeting and going right back to eating his meal. Already, Paxon didn’t like him.

But when they were alone again, Sebec told him not to prejudge the Gnome. “The Ard Rhys could have chosen a different instructor,” he said to the Highlander, “but she very deliberately chose Oost because he is the most talented and skilled of those who serve the order.” He paused. “Also, you might want to know that Oost was less than thrilled about the assignment. He thinks you won’t last because people like you always believe magic can get them out of any sort of trouble and fail to concentrate on the skills a real swordsman needs to survive.”

“Then he knows about the Sword of Leah? The Ard Rhys told him?”

“She did. She knew he would want to know, even though he wouldn’t like it. But Oost will do what he’s told, and he will do his best. It’s up to you to prove him wrong. And don’t underestimate him. You do that at your peril.”

Paxon had no intention of prejudging or underestimating anyone while he was at Paranor, and all he asked was that he be extended the same courtesy. From what he had seen and heard so far, he wasn’t sure this would happen with Oost Mondara.

His final introduction that evening was to a tall, lean Elf named Isaturin, who was second in status only to the Ard Rhys and widely considered to be the favorite as her successor. He greeted Paxon warmly and told him he was most welcome, and they were all looking forward to his contributions as a paladin for the order. He knew Leah and talked about the Highlands in such familiar terms that Paxon was immediately put at ease in his presence.

When he had moved away, Sebec said, “He is our designated ambassador to most of the governments and monarchies of the Four Lands. When the Ard Rhys doesn’t travel, which is most of the time now, Isaturin goes in her place. He is a skilled orator and negotiator, as you might have guessed. He is very well liked everywhere, and he has done more to bring about a change in our relationships with the Races than anyone.” He paused. “He must have taken a liking to you. He isn’t usually so enthusiastic about newcomers. I know he’s spent time in Leah, so maybe that’s it. For an Elf, he’s very open about his admiration for the Southland and its people.”

“I don’t remember ever seeing him in Leah, but he certainly knows his way around. He even knew the tavern where my sister’s friend Jayet works.”

Sebec shrugged. “He knows a lot of things others don’t. And he is a skilled magic user, perhaps the best at Paranor. He can do things I’ve never seen anyone else do—not even the Ard Rhys. He can disappear while you’re looking at him. He can move short distances through space, disassembling and reassembling himself in the process.” He shook his head. “I don’t know how he does half of it all.”

He returned Paxon to his room then and told him he would come back for him after sunrise. “We’ll use the morning to give you a tour of the buildings and grounds. In the afternoon, you will begin your weapons training with Oost. Better get some rest. You’re going to need it.”

BOOK: The High Druid's Blade: The Defenders of Shannara
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