The First King of Shannara - Terry Brooks [36]
“Yes, best to get started with this journey,” Tay agreed, leaning forward eagerly.
Bremen nodded, gratitude reflected in his eyes. “We are agreed that the Warlock Lord must be stopped before he subjugates all of the Races. We know that he has tried and failed once already, but that this time he is stronger and more dangerous. I told you that because of this I believe he will attempt to destroy the Druids at Paranor. The first vision suggests that I was right.” He paused. “I am afraid perhaps that it has already come to pass.”
There was a long silence as the others exchanged wary glances.
“You think the Druids are all dead?” Tay asked softly.
Bremen nodded. “I think it is a possibility. I hope I am wrong. In any event, whether they are dead or not, I must retrieve the Eilt Druin in accordance with the first vision. The visions taken together make it clear that the medallion is the key to forging a weapon that will destroy Brona. A sword, a blade of special power, of magic that the Warlock Lord cannot withstand.”
“What magic?” Kinson asked at once.
“I don’t know yet.” Bremen smiled anew, shaking his head. “I know hardly anything beyond the fact that a weapon is needed and if the vision is to be believed, the weapon must be a sword.”
“And that you must find the man who will wield it,” Tay added.
“A man whose face you were not shown.”
“But the last vision, that dark image of the Hadeshorn and the boy with the strange eyes...” Mareth began worriedly.
“Must wait until its time.” Bremen cut her short, though not harshly. His gaze settled on her face, searching. “Things reveal themselves as they will, Mareth. We cannot rush them. And we cannot allow ourselves to be constrained by our concern for them.”
“So what are you asking us to do?” Tay pressed.
Bremen faced him. “We must separate, Tay. I want you to return to the Elves and ask Courtann Ballindarroch to mount an expedition to search out the Black Elfstone. In some way the Stone is critical to our efforts to destroy Brona. The visions suggest as much. The winged hunters already search for it. They must not be allowed to find it. The Elf King must be persuaded to support us in this. We have the particulars of the vision to help us. Use what it has shown us and recover the Stone before the Warlock Lord.”
He turned to Risca. “I need you to travel to Raybur and the Dwarves at Culhaven. The armies of the Warlock Lord march east, and I believe they will strike there next. The Dwarves must make themselves ready to defend against an attack and must hold until help can be sent. You must use your special skills to see that they do so. Tay will speak with Ballindarroch to ask the Elves to join forces with the Dwarves. If they do so, they will be a match for the Troll army that Brona relies upon.”
He paused. “But mostly we must gain time to forge the weapon that will destroy Brona. Kinson, Mareth, and I will return to Paranor and discover whether the vision of its fall is true. I will seek to gain possession of the Eilt Druin.”
“If he still lives, Athabasca will not give it up,” Risca declared. “You know that.”
“Perhaps,” Bremen replied mildly. “In any case, I must determine how this sword that I was shown is to be forged, what magic it shall possess, what power it needs to be imbued with. I must discover how to make it indestructible. Then I must find its wielder.”
“You must perform miracles, it seems to me,” Tay Trefenwyd mused ironically.
“All of us must do so,” Bremen answered softly.
They looked at each other in the gloomy light, an unspoken understanding taking shape between them. Beyond their shelter, rainwater dripped in steady cadence from the rocky outcroppings.
It was midmoming, and the light had turned silvery as the sun sought to fight its way through the lingering stormclouds.
“If the Druids at Paranor are dead, then we are all that is left,”
Tay said. “Just the five of us.”
Bremen nodded. “Then five must be enough.” He rose, looking out into the gloom. “We had better get started.