Free The Druid of Shannara by Terry Brooks

be all over us now,” Morgan muttered to himself.
    They reached the next street over and turned onto it. The shouts were all around them. He pulled the ladies into a shadowed doorway and waited. Soldiers appeared at both ends of the street, searching. Morgan’s rescue plans were collapsing about him. His hands tightened into fists. Whatever happened, he couldn’t allow the Federation to recapture Granny and Auntie.
    He bent to them. “I’ll have to draw them away,” he whispered urgently. “Stay here until they come after me, then run. Once you’re hidden, stay that way—no matter what.”
    “Morgan, what about you?” Granny Elise seized his arm.
    “Don’t worry about me. Just do as I say. Don’t come looking for me. I’ll find you when this whole business is over. Goodbye, Granny. Goodbye, Auntie Jilt.”
    Ignoring their pleas to remain, he kissed and hugged them hurriedly, and darted into the street. He ran until he caught sight of the first band of searchers and yelled to them, “They’re over here!”
    The soldiers came running as he turned down an alleyway, leading them away from Granny Elise and Auntie Jilt. He wrenched the broadsword he wore strapped to his back from its scabbard. Breaking free of the alleyway, he caught sight of another band and called them after him as well, gesturing vaguely ahead. To them he was just another soldier—for the moment, at least. If he could just maneuver them ahead of him, he might be able to escape as well.
    “That barn, ahead of us,” he shouted as the first bunch caught up with him. “They’re in there!”
    The soldiers charged past, one knot, then the second. Morgan turned and darted off in the opposite direction. As he came around the corner of a feed building, he ran right up against a third unit.
    “They’ve gone into …”
    He stopped short. The watch captain stood before him, howling in recognition.
    Morgan tried to break free, but the soldiers were on him in an instant. He fought back valiantly, but there was no room to maneuver. His attackers closed and forced him to the ground. Blows rained down on him.
    This isn’t working out the way I expected
, he thought bleakly and then everything went black.

V
    T hree days later she who was said to be the daughter of the King of the Silver River arrived in Culhaven. The news of her coming preceded her by half a day and by the time she reached the outskirts of the village the roadway leading in was lined with people for more than a mile. They had come from everywhere—from the village itself, from the surrounding communities of both the Southland and the Eastland, from the farms and cottages of the plains and deep forests, even the mountains north. There were Dwarves and Men and a handful of Gnomes of both sexes and all ages. They were ragged and poor and until now without hope. They jammed the roadside expectantly, some come simply out of a sense of curiosity, most come out of their need to find something to believe in again.
    The stories of the girl were wondrous. She had appeared inthe heart of the Silver River country close by the Rainbow Lake, a magical being sprung full-blown from the earth. She stopped at each village and town, farm and cottage, and performed miracles. It was said that she healed the land. She turned blackened, withered stalks to fresh, green shoots. She brought flowers to bloom, fruit to bear, and crops to harvest with the smallest of touches. She gave life back to the earth out of death. Even where the sickness was most severe, she prevailed. She bore some special affinity to the land, a kinship that sprang directly from her father’s hands, from the legendary stewardship of the King of the Silver River. For years it had been believed that the spirit lord had died with the passing of the age of magic. Now it was known he had not; as proof he had sent his daughter to them. The people of the Silver River country were to be given back their old life. So the stories proclaimed.
    No