Straken by Terry Brooks Page A

studied her, thinking through the ramifications of accepting her offer, as she knew he would, then nodded. “Agreed.”
    She walked back across the room, her eyes never leaving his, coming to a stop when she reached him. “A final word. Do not even think about trying to use your new weapon against me. Your hunger for power is vast, Sen Dunsidan, so I know the thought has crossed your mind. Control the Druids, and you control the Four Lands. But you lack the skill and the experience to manage such a task—even with your new ally to advise you.”
    She glanced at Iridia. “She is good at what she does, and once she was great. But she is only one person and nowhere near strong enough to challenge me. So keep a tight rein on your ambitions and do not forget your place in the pecking order. The Druids wield the real power in the Four Lands, just as they always have.”
    She looked back at him, waiting for his response. “I won’t forget,” he said quietly. “I won’t forget anything.”
    He was making a thinly veiled threat, but she would allow that. A threat was only words until it was backed up by something more substantial than anything Sen Dunsidan could command.
    She moved close to him, placing herself squarely between Iridia and himself. “Watch your back, Sen Dunsidan,” she whispered.
    Then she strode from the room without looking at either of them again and made her way through the halls of the compound buildings to board her airship and fly home.
    “S he is too dangerous,” Sen Dunsidan declared, once she was gone. He faced Iridia Eleri in challenge. “Too dangerous for either of us. You would not argue the point, would you?”
    She floated across the room into the darkness from which she had come and sat down again, cloaked in shadows. “I wouldn’t worry about Shadea a’Ru, Sen Dunsidan.”
    He didn’t care for the way she said it. “Well, I do worry about her, Iridia. If you choose to pretend she isn’t a threat, that is up to you. But I intend to do something about her.”
    “I can protect you,” she said.
    “Perhaps. But if Shadea is dead, I won’t need your protection.”
    There was a long silence. “Killing her won’t be easy,” she said. “And if you fail, she will know who to come looking for. Besides, who will you send to eliminate her? Who can you trust to make certain she is dead?”
    He hesitated, unable to answer those questions.
    “And we have other concerns at the moment.” Iridia sounded sleepy and bored. “Your airship is nearly ready to fly again. You need to do what I told you. You need to take it into the Westland and attack the Elven home city of Arborlon. You need to convince the Elves they are not safe anywhere so that they will agree to abandon their alliance with the Free-born.”
    “If I smash the Free-born army first, I won’t need to worry about persuading the Elves to abandon their alliance. There won’t be anyone left for them to ally themselves with.”
    “An ill-advised course of action.” He felt displeasure radiating from her words. “A waste of time and effort. You might smash this army, but they will simply raise another. You think too small, Sen Dunsidan. You must think in larger terms. Winning the war on the Prekkendorran will not happen until you win the war in their homes. Strike at their capital cities, and they will seek your peace quicklyenough. Start with Arborlon, then fly on to the others. Soon, all resistance will end.”
    Her argument made sense, as it had the first time she had made it, but something about it bothered him. It felt to him as if she was saying one thing, but meaning another—as if she had thought the situation through better than he had and knew something about it he didn’t. Besides, he could not ignore the defeat he had suffered in the Borderlands at the hands of the Elves. His army, so certain of victory after the destruction of the Elven airfleet, was stunned by the abrupt turnabout. He could not ignore what that