The Sword of Shannara - Terry Brooks [98]
“No, wait a minute,” ordered Balinor quickly, motioning them all to lie flat as the party came closer to their hiding spot.
Allanon’s tall figure approached slowly along the trail in no apparent hurry, the deep-set eyes turned straight ahead as he walked. His dark brow was furrowed in concentration. Menion knew instinctively that they would be found and tensed his muscles for the leap onto the trail where his first blow would destroy the traitor. He knew he would have no second chance. The white-garbed Gnomes followed their leader dutifully, not marching in any particular order as they shuffled along in apparent disinterest. Suddenly Allanon halted and looked around in startled realization, as if sensing their presence. Menion prepared to spring, but a heavy hand grasped his shoulder, holding him firmly against the earth.
“Balinor,” called the tall wanderer evenly, moving neither forward nor to either side as he looked about expectantly.
“Release me!” demanded Menion furiously of the Prince of Callahorn.
“They have no weapons!” Balinor’s voice cut through his anger, causing him to scan again the white-robed Gnomes at the tall man’s side. There were no weapons visible.
Balinor stood up slowly and advanced into the clearing, his great sword gripped tightly in one hand. Menion was right behind him, noting the lean figure of Durin just within the trees, an arrow fitted to his bow in readiness. Allanon came forward with a sigh of relief and reached for Balinor’s hand, stopping quickly as he saw the faint distrust mirrored in the borderman’s eyes and the outright bitterness registered on the face of the highlander. He seemed baffled for a moment, and then looked back suddenly at the small figures standing motionless behind him.
“No, it’s all right!” he exclaimed hastily. “These are friends. They have no weapons and no hatred toward you. They are healers, physicians.”
For a moment no one moved. Then Balinor sheathed the great sword and took Allanon’s extended hand in welcome. Menion followed suit, still distrustful of the Gnomes waiting up the trail.
“Now tell me what has happened,” ordered Allanon, once again in command of the weary company. “Where are the others?”
Quickly Balinor recounted what had befallen them in the Wolfsktaag, their incorrect choice of the trail at the fork, the battle that had followed with the creature in the city ruins, their journey to the pass and the plan that had gotten them past the assembled Gnomes. Upon hearing of the Valemen’s injuries, Allanon immediately spoke to the Gnomes who had accompanied him, informing the suspicious Menion that they could treat the wounds his friends had incurred. Balinor continued his tale while the white-robed Gnomes hastened to the side of the injured Valemen and hovered over them in obvious concern, applying a liquid from some vials they carried. Menion looked on anxiously, wondering to himself why these Gnomes were any different from the rest. As Balinor concluded, Allanon shook his head in disgust.
“It was my fault, my miscalculation,” he muttered angrily. “I was looking too far ahead in the journey and not watching closely enough for immediate dangers. If those two men die, the whole trip will have been for nothing!”
He spoke again to the scurrying Gnomes, and one of them departed at a hasty walk up the trail toward the Pass of Jade.
“I sent one of them back to see what he could learn about Hendel. If anything has happened to him, I’ll be the only one to blame.”
He ordered the Gnome physicians to pick up the Valemen and the whole group moved back onto the trail, heading westward, the stretcher bearers in the lead and the weary members of the company trailing behind. Dayel’s rib wound had been attended to, and he was able to walk without assistance. As the company traveled along the deserted trail, Allanon explained to them why they would not encounter Gnome hunting parties in this region.
“We are approaching the land of the Stors, these Gnomes that came with me,” he informed them. “They are healers, separate from the rest of the