Shroud of Eternity by Terry Goodkind

Author:Terry Goodkind
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3, mobi, pdf
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates

CHAPTER 39

Bannon had nothing in common with Amos and his companions; he realized that now, and he doubted they would ever follow through on their assurances of helping Ian. He thought of the bright and heady times on Chiriya Island with his childhood friend … and yes, he truly meant friend. He and Ian had so much laughter together, so much fun. Until the day the Norukai had taken him captive in their secret cove.

Ian—even the scarred and embittered champion in the combat pits—still must have that spark of friendship deep within the young man’s heart, if Bannon could just find it. But for that, he needed help from important people in Ildakar. Neither Nicci nor Nathan could demand the freedom of a slave—particularly not a renowned champion. Bannon had to keep trying.

And that brought him back to Amos, Jed, and Brock. He felt as trapped as any of the prisoners in the training pits.

Looking at Bannon, Amos quirked his dark lips in an unpleasant smile. “If you need our help with the champion, come with us. We’re going to find Chief Handler Ivan. He’ll be delighted to hear your request.”

Bannon felt a thrill of unrealistic hope. “Truly?” He knew not to believe Amos’s motives, but for someone with no hope whatsoever, even a false hope was worth clinging to. He remembered his bright image of the world, his dream of a place where people helped one another, where bloodshed and darkness were washed away by kindness and good hearts.

A false and ridiculous picture, he knew. Nicci had made that very clear when she forced him to see that his nostalgia was merely a scab that covered festering memories. But now he had scars instead of wounds, and he had become a much stronger person.

He needed that strength now. For Ian. “Yes, I’ll go with you.” Ivan intimidated him, but he would make his case.

“You won’t be disappointed,” Jed said, and his two companions reflected the same sharp smile. Bannon was aware that as an ungifted swordsman he would always be the butt of their jokes. They had no respect for him, and he had little respect for them. But for the same reasons that Nathan was forced to spend time with Fleshmancer Andre, Bannon needed these three—at least until he found more worthy friends.

They descended to the lower levels of the city, ignoring the bustle of business in the streets, the slaves and merchants who brought goods up to where the gifted nobles lived. “Are we going back to the combat arena?” he asked. “I’ve seen the cages where the chief handler’s animals are held.”

“No, today he’ll be in the market,” Jed said. “Just follow us.”

Bannon pictured a colorful and vibrant bazaar in one of the numerous squares with fountains and performance stands, unlike the slave market that seemed stained with years of blood and pain. He imagined farmers who harvested their crops from the dense terrace gardens, using every scrap of fertile land in Ildakar. He pictured vintners

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