lapsed wagon, remembering Par, anxious to discover if the
Valeman was all right. It was Par in there, he insisted to him-
self. It had to be. He was dazed and bleeding, his clothing torn
328 The Talismans of Shamara
and soiled, his skin coated in dust and sweat. He felt light-
headed and dangerously invincible.
Of course it was Par!
He climbed into the upended wagon and moved to the
bound figure, who was slumped against one splintered side,
looking up at him. Shadows hid the other’s face, and he bent
close, blinked, and stared.
It wasn’t Par he had rescued.
It was Wren.
XXVIII
Wren was as surprised to see Morgan Leah as he was
to see her. Tall and lean and quick-eyed, he was ex-
actly as she remembered him—and at the same time
he was different. He seemed older somehow, more worn. And
there was something in the look he gave her. She blinked up at
him. What was he doing here? She tried to straighten up, but
her strength failed her and she would have fallen back again if
the Highlander hadn’t reached down to catch her. He knelt at
her side, withdrew a hunting knife from his belt, and severed
her bonds and gag.
“Morgan,” she breathed, relieved beyond measure, and
reached up to embrace him. “I’m sure glad to see you.”
He managed a quick, tight smile, and a bit of the mischie-
vousness returned to his haggard face. “You look a wreck,
Wren. What happened? ”
She smiled back wearily, aware of how she must appear, her
face all bruised and swollen. “I made a serious error in judg-
ment, I’m afraid. Don’t worry, I’m all right now.”
He picked her up anyway and carried her from the ruins of
the wagon into the dawn light, setting her gingerly back on her
feet. She rubbed her wrists and ankles to restore the circula-
tion, then knelt to wet her hands with dew from the still-damp
grasses and dabbed tentatively at her injured face.
She looked up at him. “I thought there was no hope for me
at all. How did you find me? ”
He shook his head. “Blind luck. I wasn’t even looking for
you. I was looking for Par. I thought the Shadowen were trans-
porting him in the wagon. I had no idea at all it was you.”
329
330 The Talismans of Sham i,
There had been disappointment in his eyes when he had
ognized her. She understood now why. He had been certa ?
was Par he had rescued.
“I’m sorry I’m not Par,” she told him. “But thanks anyway •’
He shrugged, and grimaced with the movement, and she “dvv
the mix of red and green blood on his clothing. “What are you
doing here. Wren? ”
She rose to face him. “It’s a long story. How much time do
we have? ”
He glanced over his shoulder. “Not much. Southwatch is
only a few miles away. The Shadowen will have heard the
fighting. We have to get away as soon as we can.”
“Then I’ll keep it short.” She felt stronger now, flushed with
urgency and renewed determination. She was free again, and
she intended to make the most of it. “The Elves have returned
to the Four Lands, Morgan. I found them on an island in the
Blue Divide where they’ve been living for almost a hundred
years, and I brought them back. It was Allanon’s charge to me,
and I finally accepted it. Their queen, Ellenroh Elessedil was
my grandmother. She died on the way, and now I am queen.”
She saw the astonishment in his eyes and gripped his arm to
silence him. “Just listen. The Elves are besieged by a Federa-
tion army ten times their size. They fight a delaying action just
south of the Valley of Rhenn. I have to get back to them at
once. Do you want to come with me? ”
The Highlander stared. “Wren Elessedil,” he said softly, try-
ing the name out. Then he shook his head, and his voice tight-
ened. “No, I can’t. Wren. I have to find Par. He may be a