Ilse Witch - Terry Brooks [187]
He called out sharply to those waiting and beckoned them to follow.
Redden Alt Mer brought up the anchors and eased the Jerk Shannara across the still waters of the bay to a broad stretch of open shoreline. Using rope ladders, the search party descended from the airship, seventeen-strong—Walker, Bek, Quentin Leah, Panax, Ryer Ord Star, Joad Rish, Ahren Elessedil, Ard Patrinell, and nine Elven Hunters. From there, they gathered up their weapons and supplies and stood together as the airship lifted off and sailed back along the channel that had brought her in. They watched until she was out of sight, then on Walker’s command, they set out.
The Druid placed Ard Patrinell in charge, giving over to the Elf the responsibility for protecting the company. The Captain of the Home Guard sent a young woman named Tamis, a tracker, ahead some fifty yards to scout the way in and placed an Elven Hunter to either side to guard their flanks. The rest of the company he grouped by twos, placing Walker in the vanguard and Panax in the rear, with Elven Hunters warding them both. Quentin was given responsibility for the center of the formation and those who were not trained fighters, Joad Rish and Ryer Ord Star and Bek in particular.
Walker glanced at the boy from time to time as they proceeded, trying to take his measure, to judge how Bek felt about himself now that he knew so much more. It was difficult to do. Bek seemed to have adapted well enough to his increased responsibility for use of the magic of the wishsong and the Sword of Shannara. But Bek was a complex personality, not easily read, and it remained to be seen how he would react to the demands that his heritage might require of him down the road. As of now, he had only scratched the surface of what he could or would in all probability be asked to do. The boy simply didn’t understand yet how enmeshed in all this he was and what that was likely to mean to him. Nor was there any easy or safe way to tell him.
Like it or not, Bek would grow increasingly difficult to manage. He was independent to begin with, but what control the Druid had maintained over him to date was mostly the result of what he knew that the boy didn’t. Now that advantage was pretty much gone, and in the process Bek had grown distrustful of him. As matters stood, the boy was as likely to do what he felt like as what Walker suggested, and choices of that sort could prove fatal.
The Druid was reminded once again how far he had strayed from his vow to avoid falling into a Druid’s manipulative ways. He could not escape the fact that he was becoming more like Allanon with the passing of every day. All of his good intentions and promises had come to nothing. It was a sobering conclusion, and it induced a deep and profound sadness. He could argue that at least he was aware of his failings, but what good was that if he was unable to correct them? He could justify everything and still feel as if he had betrayed himself utterly.
The company pressed deeper into the woods, climbing from the bay’s coastline into the surrounding hills, burrowing deeper into the sun-speckled shadows and thickening woods. The ground was rough and uneven, crisscrossed by ravines and gullies, blocked entirely in places by deadfall and heavy brush. A handful of times they found their way blocked by cuts too deep and wide to cross. Twice they encountered clumps of trees that appeared to have been dropped by a storm, twisted masses of deadwood that ran for a quarter of a mile. Each time they had to back away from one approach and try another. Each time they were forced to change direction, and with each change it grew increasingly difficult to determine exactly where they were.
Walker carried a compass he had borrowed from Redden Alt Mer, but even so it was impossible to maintain a straight line of approach. The best the Druid could manage was to plot a course from where they had come, which was of dubious value. But the day stayed bright and warm, the sun a cheerful presence in the blue sky,