Mindless and persistent, she thought bleakly.
She did not bother glancing over at the others—Triss, Erring
Rift, and Desidio. She already knew what she would see in
their faces. She already knew what they were thinking.
They had been watching the Federation’s progress for more
than an hour—not with any expectation that they would leam
anything, but out of a need to do something besides sit around
and wait for the inevitable. The Elves were in trouble. The
Federation march north to the Rhenn had resumed two days
ago, and time was running out. Barsimmon Oridio had finally
completed the mobilization and provisioning of the main body
of the Elven army and was headed east to the pass, a forced
march that would bring the Elves into the Rhenn at least three
days ahead of the enemy. But the Elves were still outnumbered
ten to one, and any kind of direct engagement would result in
their annihilation. Worse, the Creepers continued their ap-
proach, closer now than before, catching up quickly to the
slower Southlanders. In four, maybe five days, the Creepers
would overtake them and become their vanguard, the advance
for a search-and-destroy action. When that happened, it would
be the end of the Elves.
305
306 The Talismans of Shannara
Wren felt a vague hopelessness nudging at her, and she an-
grily thrust it away.
What can I do to save my people?
She focused again on the crawling army and tried to think
Another midnight raid was out of the question. The Federation
was alerted to them now and would not be caught napping
twice. Cavalry patrols rode day and night all around the main
body of the army, scouring the countryside for any sign of the
Elves. Once or twice riders more bold than smart had even
ventured into the forests. Wren had let them pass, the Elves
melting back into the trees, invisible in the shadows. She did
not want the Federation to know where they were. She did not
want to give them anything she didn’t have to. Not that it mat-
tered. The patrols kept them at bay, and sentry lines were ex-
tended a quarter-mile out from the camp once darkness fell
The Wing Riders could come in from overhead, but she did
not care to risk her most valuable weapon when she coula
bring no strength to bear in its support.
Besides, it made little difference what she did about the Fed-
eration army if she did not fast find a way to stop the Creepers.
Though still distant, the Creepers were the most dangerous and
immediate threat. If they were allowed to reach the Rhenn, or
even the Westland forests immediately south, there would be
nothing to stop them from carving a path straight through to
Arborlon. The Creepers wouldn’t worry about finding a road-
way leading in. They wouldn’t concern themselves with am-
bushes and traps. They didn’t need scouts or patrols to search
out the enemy. The Creepers would find the Elves wherever
they tried to hide and destroy them in the same manner they
had destroyed the Dwarves fifty years earlier. Wren knew the
stories. She knew what kind of enemy they were up against.
The sweat lay against her face like a damp mask. She ex-
haled slowly, beckoned to the others, and began backing off
the rise. When they were safely within the shelter of the trees
once more, they rose and walked to where their horses were
held by the Elven Hunters who had come with them. No one
spoke. No one had anything to say. Wren led the way, trying
to look as if she had something in mind even though she
didn’t, worried that she was beginning to lose the confidence
she had won in leading the attack three nights earlier, confi-
The Talismans of Shannara 307
dence that she needed if she was to control events once
Barsimmon Oridio arrived. She was Queen of the Elves, she
told herself. But even a queen could fail.
They mounted and rode back to the Elven camp. Wren
thought back over all that had happened since the coming of
Coeline, wondering what had become of the old man—what,