to sleep, but even in the shade of the forests there was little
comfort to be found. As midnight approached, Desidio’s Elven
Hunters were awakened, told to dress and arm, and taken from
the trees onto the grasslands, slipping silently toward the rise
north that overlooked the sleeping Federation army.
Wren went with them, anxious for a look at ground level be-
fore she took to the air with the Wing Riders. She went out with
a detachment of Home Guard, Desidio and Triss leading, all of
The Talismans of Shannara 199
them dressed for concealment in green and brown forest colors
with high boots, belts, and gloves for protection against brush
and scrub. She was wearing a backpack to carry Faun (who
would not be left behind) and had strung a leather pouch about
her neck to keep the Elfstones close. A brace of long knives
were strapped about her waist and a dagger was in one boot.
Armed for anything, she thought. They rode a short distance
onto the plains, then dismounted and made their way on foot to
where the forward lines of Elven Hunters crouched in me dark.
Alone with Triss and Desidio, she crept forward to where
she could look down on the Federation encampment.
Their army was enormous. Even though she had seen it from
the air with Tiger Ty, she was not prepared for how huge it
looked now. It sprawled in a maze of hundreds of cooking fires
for as far as the eye could see, a wash of light that crowded out
the stars with its brilliance. Talk and laughter drifted off the
plains as clear as if the voices came from only yards away. Out-
lined against the sky by the firelight were the huge siege ma-
chines, great skeletal bulks of wooden bones and iron joints,
rising up like misshapen giants. Wagons huddled in clusters,
piled with stores and weapons, and the smell of oil and pitch
drifted on the wind. Even though it was by now after midnight,
there were many who still did not sleep, wandering from fire to
fire, spurred by the clink of glasses and tin cups, drawn by calls
and shouts and the promise of drink and companionship.
Wren glanced at Triss. The Federation was at ease with it-
self, satisfied that its size and strength would ward it from any
danger. She mouthed the word “guards” questioningly. Triss
shrugged, pointed left and then right, picking out the sentries
that the Federation commanders had placed. They were few
and widely scattered. She had been right in her assessment; the
Southlanders were not expecting trouble.
They slipped back down the rise until they were out of view
of the camp, then rose and retraced their steps through the
lines of bowmen and cavalry. When they were safely away, she
drew Triss and Desidio close.
“Get as close as you can. Commander,” she whispered to
the latter. “Wait for the Wing Riders to strike at them from the
rear. Look for the fires, then attack. Archers followed by cav-
alry, as we planned, then quickly away. Take no chances. Don’t
200 The Talismans of Shannara
let them see any more of you than necessary. We want them to
use their imaginations as to how many of us there are.”
Desidio nodded. He knew his job better than she, but she
was the queen and he was not about to tell her so. She smiled
faintly, took his hand in her own to express her confidence,
then turned with Triss and crept away. Their escort was wait
ing, and they remounted and rode back into the forests.
The Wing Riders and the main body of the Home Guard
were waiting in a clearing. A dozen baskets had been woven
from branches and tied together with leather cords, each large
enough to hold a dozen men. The Elven Hunters climbed
aboard, armed with longbows and short swords, dark and silen’
forms in the night. Each basket would be carried by a Roc
onto the plains behind the Federation army. Wren hurried to
Tiger Ty, who was already seated atop Spirit, and pulled her-
self up behind him, securing the straps that would hold her in