sending swordsmen in their wake. The Federation army was
driven backward, and men began to break and run. The center
held firm, but the edges were being systematically destroyed.
Men lay wounded and dying everywhere, and the chain of com-
mand of the Southland juggernaut was in almost total disarray.
It might have ended then and there, the front ranks of the
Federation army falling back across the flats in confusion, but
for one of those quirks of battle that seemingly always crop up
to affect the outcome. Riding in the thick of the east flank’s
strike, Desidio had his horse shot out from under him and went
down in a tangle of bodies. His arm and leg were broken, and
he was pinned beneath his horse. As he watched helplessly, the
foremost of the Federation defenders, encouraged by his fall,
launched a counterattack. The attacked pressed back toward the
injured Elven commander, and the Elves abandoned their battle
plan and rushed to protect him. Freeing him from his horse,
they pulled him to safety, but the whole of their front collapsed.
Hearing shouts of victory from the right, the Federation re-
grouped and counterattacked Barsimmon Oridio. Without a
second front, the Elven commander was forced to fall back as
well or risk being overwhelmed. The Federation surged toward
him, disorganized still, but numbering thousands and regaining
The Talismans of Shannara 393
lost around through sheer weight of numbers. When it seemed
as if Bar would not reach the safety of the Rhenn without hav-
ing to stand and fight again. Wren sent the Wing Riders into
the fray, sweeping down out of the clouds to rake the foremost
ranks of the Federation assault and stall it out long enough for
the balance of Bar’s forces to escape.
The attack broke off then as both armies paused to regroup.
The Elves entrenched anew along the slopes and at the head of
the Rhenn, there to await the Federation advance. The Feder-
ation, for its part, sent its dead and wounded to the rear, and
began to reassemble the bulk of its fighting men for a massive
strike. Their plan was not complicated. They intended to come
right at the Elves and simply overwhelm them. There was no
reason to think they could not do so.
Wren visited Desidio and found him in severe pain, his leg
and arm splinted and wrapped, his face as gray as ash. He was
furious at being hurt and asked to be carried back to his sol-
diers. She refused his request, and bolstered by orders from
Barsimmon Oridio she dispatched him back to Arborlon, his
involvement in the battle ended.
Bar huffed up to her and announced that a commander
named Ebben Cruenal would take over Desidio’s command.
Wren nodded without comment. Both knew that no one would
adequately replace Desidio.
The day brightened, but the clouds and the haze hung on,
leaving the land in a swelter of damp and heat. Morning edged
toward midday. The Elves sent scouts east and west to check
for flanking maneuvers but found none. The Federation, it
seemed, was confident that a direct attack would succeed.
The attack came shortly after midday, the drums booming
out of the haze as the army advanced, wave upon wave of
black-and-scarlet-garbed soldiers marching to the beat, spears
and swords gleaming. Archers guarded the flanks, and cavalry
patrolled out along the fringes to warn against surprise attacks.
But the Elves did not have enough men to chance splitting
their forces, and they were forced to concentrate on holding the
Rhenn. The Federation marched into the valley as if oblivious
to what waited, into the teeth of the Elven weaponry.
The Elves struck from all sides. Entrenched above and under
cover, the archers raked the Federation ranks until the South-
394 The Talismans of Shannara
landers were forced to march over the bodies of their own men.
But still they came on, carving their way forward, using their
own bowmen to screen their advance. Wren watched with Bar
and Triss from the head of the valley, listening to the cries and
screams of the fighting men and the clash of their weapons and