mouth securely gagged. He walked unsteadily, his gait halting
and painful. There was blood on his face and bruises and cuts
everywhere. He lifted his head despite his obvious pain, and
his eyes were hard and fierce as he surveyed his captors. Pew
gaze, keeping their attention trained elsewhere, wait-
was past to sneak a furtive glance. The outlaw was
254 The Talismans of Shannara
taken to the back of the wagon and pushed inside. Canvas
flaps were drawn in place, the wagon was turned about, and
the soldiers began to assemble in lines on either side. When all
was in readiness, the procession began to move slowly ahead.
It took a long time to complete the journey out of the palk,
the horses held carefully in check, the lines of soldiers sur-
rounding the wagon in a solid wall. There were more than fifty
of them, armed and hard-faced, spearing a path through the
trees and out onto the Tyrsian Way. The few people they en-
countered were moved quickly back, and the wagon lurched
slowly into the city. Buildings rose to either side, and heads
leaned out of windows. The soldiers deployed, teams moving
ahead to search doorways and alcoves, to check cross streets
and alleys, to move aside any obstruction they found. Rain was
falling steadily now, spattering on the stones of the roadway,
staining them dark and beginning to puddle. Thunder boomed
from somewhere distant, a long steady peal that echoed
through the city walls. The rain fell harder, and it grew in-
creasingly difficult to see.
The wagon had reached a commons where a series of cross
streets intersected when the woman appeared. She was crying
hysterically, calling out to the soldiers to stop. Her clothes
were in disarray and there were tears on her face. They had the
outlaw leader with them, didn’t they? They were taking him to
be hanged, weren’t they? Good, she cried out vehemently, for
he was responsible for the deaths of her husband and son, good
men who had fought in the Federation cause. She wanted to
see him hang. She wanted to make certain she was there when
it happened.
The procession lurched to an uncertain stop as others ap-
peared to take up the cry, stirred by the woman’s fiery speech.
Hang the outlaw leader, they cried out angrily. They pressed
forward, a ragged bunch, throwing up their hands and gestur-
ing wildly. The soldiers held them away with pikes and spears,
and the unit’s commanding officer ordered them to move back.
No one noticed the sewer grate slide away from its seating
under where the wagon was stopped or saw the shadowy forms
that slid out of the darkness one by one to crouch beneath.
Hang him here and now! the crowd was crying, continuing
to press up against the soldiers massed before it. The Federa-
The Talismans of Shannara 255
tion officer had drawn his sword and was shouting angrily for
his men to clear the way.
Then abruptly the forms beneath the wagon sprang up on all
sides, some onto the driver’s seat, some into the bed. The driv-
ers and the officer were thrown to the street, clutching their
throats. More soldiers were thrown out the back to land in
crumpled heaps, bloodied and still. The soldiers surrounding
the wagon turned instinctively to see what was happening, and
in an instant’s time half fell dying as the free-born who at that
point made up the bulk of the crowd killed them with the dag-
gers they had kept hidden. Screams and shouts rose up, and the
soldiers surged back and forth wildly, trying to bring their
weapons to bear.
Morgan Leah appeared on the driver’s seat of the wag-
on, snatched up the reins, and shouted at the horses. The wagon
lurched forward, the horses wild-eyed. Soldiers flung them-
selves at the Highlander, trying to claw their way up to stop
him, but Matty Roh was there instantly, her blade swift and
deadly as it cut them down. The wagon broke through the lead-
ing edge of the column, the team trampling some men beneath
its hoofs, the wagon wheels crushing more. Morgan sawed on