charged with bringing back the Elves.
What was missing was the reason Par had been sent to find
the Sword of Shannara.
Most of all what was missing was the truth behind the secret
of the Shadowen power.
He rose finally and went down into the depths of the castle,
Rumor trailing silently, a shadow at his back. He would take
the moor cat with him, he decided. Cogline had given him the
cat, after all; it was his responsibility to see that it was looked
after. It could not be left locked up within the Keep, and the
closeness they shared might prove useful. He smiled as he ex-
amined his thinking. The truth was that Rumor would provide
a little of the companionship he would miss without Cogline.
Down into the well of the Keep he descended, there to place
his hands on the walls of stone, reaching inward to the life that
rested there. The magic came to him, obedient to his summons,
and he set in place a bar to any but himself so that none could
enter until he returned.
Then he closed Paranor’s gates and went out into the world
again. He went down from the bluff and into the forests where
the heat was screened away and it was shady and cool. Rumor
went with him, grateful to be free again of the confining walls,
slipping into the shadows to forage and track, returning now
and again to Walker’s side to be certain he was still there.
The Talismans of Shannara 237
They traveled north of the place where Cogline lay, and
Walker did not turn aside. He had said goodbye already to the
old man; it was best to leave it at that.
The day eased away toward nightfall, the sun’s fiery glare
slipping west toward the Dragon’s Teeth, the heat dissipating
slowly into the cool of the evening shadows. Walker and the
moor cat traveled steadily on. Ahead, the watch fires of the
Federation soldiers camped within the Kennon Pass were lit,
meals were consumed, and guards sent to their posts.
By midnight Walker and the cat had slipped by them unseen
and were on their way south.
XXI
The rains that had inundated the Westland Elves and the
pursuing Federation army were still thunderheads on the
western horizon the morning the two ragged scrap-
women led their elderly blind father through the gates of Tyrsis
with the other tradesmen, merchants, drummers, peddlers, and
itinerant hucksters who had come in from the outlying commu-
nities to barter their wares. As with most of the others that
sought entry, they had spent the night camped before the gates,
anxious to enter early so as to secure the best stalls in the open
market where the trading and bartering took place. They shuf-
fled along as quickly as they could manage, the women slowed
by the old man as he groped his way uncertainly, supported on
either side, his feet directed carefully along the dusty way.
Federation guards lined the entries through the outer and in-
ner walls, checking everyone who passed, pulling aside those
who seemed suspicious. It was unusual for them to worry
about who was entering the city, for the emphasis in the past
had been directed toward worrying about who might leave. But
Padishar Creel, the leader of the free-bom, was to be executed
at noon of the following day, and the Federation was con-
cerned that an attempt would be made to rescue him. It was
believed that such a rescue would fail, no matter how well
conceived, because the city garrison was at full strength, some
five thousand men strong, and security measures were extraor-
dinary. Still, nothing was to be left to chance, so the guards at
the gates had been given explicit instructions to make certain
of everyone.
They chose to pull aside the scrapwomen and the old man.
238
The Talismans of Shannara 239
It was a random selection, an approach the guard commander
had settled on early, a compromise between stopping everyone,
which would take forever, and no one, which would seem a
dereliction of his duty. The three were ordered to stand apart