Against All Things Ending Part 62

Finally a change in the weather drew him out of his willed somnolence. The day had reached late afternoon, and the rain had stopped. Perhaps because the winds had resolved themselves into a bitter blast out of the west, the storm clouds had scudded away, leaving behind a sky mired with ash and fine dirt like the fug of a distant calamity.

Yet the murk in the air appeared to come from the east. Against the wind- Now on the horizon to his right Covenant could make out the first jagged outcroppings of the Shattered Hills. And perhaps a league or two ahead of the horses, the terrain rose in a long slow sweep as if the ground were gathering itself to plunge over the edge of the world.

Was that the cliff fronting the Sunbirth Sea? Covenant wanted badly to have covered so much ground; but he had no way to estimate how far he and the Humbled had traveled. And he doubted that his mount would last long enough to reach the top of the rise. He felt exhausted himself, physically battered. His legs quivered trying to grip the destrier's sides. But the beast's condition was worse; much worse. During the day, it had surpa.s.sed its strength. Now its heart hardly seemed able to manage a lurching beat. As far as he could discern, only the insistence of the Ranyhyn kept the charger from surrendering its last breath.

The horses' hooves were barely audible over the raw hum of the wind. They were running on gra.s.s as thick as turf. Apparently this portion of the Lower Land received more rain than the westward reaches. Covenant and his companions must indeed be nearing the coast, where natural storms would break and tumble on the cliffs, releasing a comparative abundance of rainfall. Here the destrier could have cropped enough gra.s.s to refresh a measure of its stamina; but it made no attempt to pause or feed. The beast's spirit was broken. It had nothing left except a primitive desire to perish without more suffering.

Through the bitter plaint of the wind, Covenant called to the Humbled, "Where are we?"

Branl glanced at him. "We approach the cliff above the Sunbirth Sea. There we will seek out shelter ere nightfall, hoping for some covert to ward you from the chill of this wind."

Covenant nodded; but he felt no relief. "What're we going to do when my horse dies? This poor thing won't last much longer. As soon as it stops moving, it's finished."

He needed a mount. He was too far north; too far from Foul's Creche. He could not afford the time to walk that distance.

Branl shrugged. "The beast has labored valiantly. It must be allowed its final peace." A moment later, he added, "Mh.o.r.n.ym is well able to bear two riders-as is Naybahn."

"Don't insult me," Covenant growled, even though he knew that the Humbled meant no offense. "You keep your promises. What makes you think I won't do the same?"

Long ago, he had made a pact with the Ranyhyn. He intended to abide by it. How else could he ask them to do likewise?

Briefly Branl consulted with Clyme in silence. Then he asked, "What alternative remains? We have seen no more amanibhavam amanibhavam."

Covenant swore to himself. "Then what about aliantha aliantha?"

Branl raised an eyebrow: a subtle show of surprise. "It is not a natural provender for horses. Neither horse nor Ranyhyn consumes such fruit."

"So what?" Covenant countered. "It's worth a try."

After only a moment, Branl nodded. "Indeed, ur-Lord."

At once, Clyme and Mh.o.r.n.ym veered aside, racing in search of treasure-berries.

Fortunately they soon found what they sought. The destrier was stumbling at the slope. Each time the beast caught itself, locked its knees, and jerked forward, it came closer to falling. With every stride, its muscles trembled like the onset of a seizure. Covenant had to clutch the saddle horn to keep his seat.

Strain throbbed in his temples as he watched Clyme dismount to gather treasure-berries, then leap onto Mh.o.r.n.ym's back and return. While the Ranyhyn sped toward Covenant and Branl, Clyme pitted berries deftly with his fingers, scattering the seeds.

Please, Covenant asked Naybahn and Mh.o.r.n.ym, hoping that they understood his thoughts, or his heart. Keep this animal alive. Make it eat. I know it's suffered enough, but I need it. I don't know what else to try.

As if in response, Naybahn slowed to a halt. Staggering on the verge of collapse, the destrier did the same. Its chest heaved brokenly, dying for more air than its lungs could hold.

Uselessly Covenant wondered why the Ranyhyn had not taken better care of his mount earlier. But he had no idea how to question the great horses. Perhaps they perceived a need for haste which outweighed lesser considerations. At other times, they had shown that they knew more than they could communicate about the events of the world. Or perhaps they were testing Covenant's determination to keep his promises- Clyme dropped to the turf at the destrier's head. Firmly he untied the bridle, tugged the reins out of Covenant's hands, slipped the snaffle from the beast's mouth. Holding the horse by its mane, he lifted one cupped hand full of fruit to its mouth.

At first, the destrier only gasped at the berries, too drained to blow froth; too empty of life to scent anything, want anything. But both Naybahn and Mh.o.r.n.ym gazed at Covenant's mount with instructions in their stern eyes; and after a moment, a small spasm ran through the beast's muscles as if it had been goaded. Weakly the horse lipped a few treasure-berries from Clyme's hand.

Covenant should have dismounted, but he did not think to move. With as much concentration as he could muster, he focused his senses on the destrier's condition: on the limping struggle of its heart, the shredded straining of its lungs.

Relief left him briefly light-headed when the horse took more aliantha aliantha. His health-sense was too blunt for precise discernment, but he seemed to feel a faint touch of vitality flow into the beast's veins.

Then he remembered to slip down from the destrier. His own legs throbbed at the unaccustomed effects of two days on horseback; and he felt battered, as if he had fallen from a great height. Standing would do him good: walking would be better.

While Clyme stroked the destrier's neck, encouraging it, Branl rode away. When he came back, he brought another handful of berries. These the horse ate more willingly.

The Humbled both nodded in satisfaction. "Ur-Lord," Clyme announced, "with your consent we will walk to the cliff. Gentle movement will quicken the benison of aliantha aliantha. Mayhap the beast's awareness of hunger will awaken. If we then discover water-" He shrugged; did not finish the thought.

Covenant knew what he meant. Maybe the horse would live. Maybe it would be strong enough to carry him after a night's rest.

If.

"Sure," he answered. "We can at least hope."

Leaving Clyme and Mh.o.r.n.ym with the destrier, Covenant headed up the long rise, accompanied by Branl on Naybahn. At first, he walked stiffly, forcing each stride against the protest of his muscles. But gradually his limbs loosened. And the gra.s.s softened his steps. Soon he began to move more briskly, aiming to reach the rim of the slope before twilight.

Half a league from the horizon-line where the ground dropped away, Naybahn adjusted his course slightly to the south.

As Covenant drew closer, he saw that the precipice was scored with cracks. Some of them looked like the results of erosion, the claw-marks of weather and old time. Others appeared to be deeper faults in the fundamental substance of the cliff. But he still did not smell salt or hear surf. The harsh wind from the west blew away any indication that he was approaching the sea.

Naybahn angled farther south. Instinctively Covenant quickened his strides. Vulnerable in his damp clothes, he was already chilled: he wanted to believe that Naybahn or Branl would lead him to some kind of shelter from the wind.

Tossing his head, the Ranyhyn gave a snort that sounded disdainful. For his own reasons, if not for Branl's, the stallion nudged Covenant with his shoulder. Have you forgotten who I am? Are you foolish enough to doubt us? You who spoke of trust trust? That gentle b.u.mp directed Covenant toward a crack or crevice extending perhaps a hundred paces inland.

At the tip of the crack, he found that it was shallow enough for a horse to enter, wide enough to admit a mounted rider. Its floor as it dropped toward the precipice was not dangerously steep. And it ended, not in a plunge, but on a ledge as broad as a road.

There Covenant saw the Sunbirth Sea.

Under a leaden sky at the onset of evening, it looked misnamed. Lashed waves taller than Giants, and as dark as thunderheads, seethed heavily toward the cliff and out of sight. Tumbling winds ripped the crests of the waves to spume, tore them in all directions. Nonetheless the seas heaved closer with the ma.s.sive inevitability of avalanches or calving glaciers. In spite of his numbness, Covenant seemed to feel a faint tremor as each breaker crashed against the granite coast. Somewhere far beyond the range of his perceptions, storms which had fled eastward earlier hammered the ocean; or some new atmospheric violence was gathering against the Land.

Without hesitation, Naybahn entered the split and bore Branl downward. Cautiously Covenant followed.

As he worked his way toward the ledge, he glimpsed more and more of the sea. Atavistic vertigo began to squirm through him: the waves were a long long way down-A man who fell from that ledge would have time to repent every misdeed of his life before he died. Reflexively he hugged the stone of the crevice-wall; but its ancient endurance refused to steady him. way down-A man who fell from that ledge would have time to repent every misdeed of his life before he died. Reflexively he hugged the stone of the crevice-wall; but its ancient endurance refused to steady him.

Don't, he commanded himself. Don't look. But the plunge was already calling to him. It insinuated itself among the pathways of his brain, urging him to stagger and reel and drop; to pitch the disease of his existence over the precipice. He was in a crevice, and his mind was a maze of fissures. Memories summoned him from all sides. Soon they would become a gyre, a geas geas, and the cliff or the past would take him.

In some other life, Lena would have come to his aid. Foamfollower and Triock would have helped him. Or Linden's presence would have given him the will to suppress this spinning. But in this this life- life- Branl clasped his arm in a grip like a manacle. Beyond the Master, Naybahn waited on the ledge, unconcerned by the fall. But Branl had come back for Covenant.

The Haruchai Haruchai forgot nothing. They had a strength that Covenant lacked, one supreme gift: within themselves, they were not alone. As well as he could, Branl contradicted Covenant's impulse toward isolation and dizziness. forgot nothing. They had a strength that Covenant lacked, one supreme gift: within themselves, they were not alone. As well as he could, Branl contradicted Covenant's impulse toward isolation and dizziness.

Anch.o.r.ed by the grasp of the Humbled, Covenant moved toward Naybahn without losing his way.

On the ledge, the Ranyhyn stood between him and the precipice. Branl held his arm. Protected in that fashion, Covenant went warily southward.

Now he could hear the waves: an iterated crash-and-roar among the rocks far below him. The turmoil of winds sawing against granite edges everywhere complicated the rush and smash of the breakers, emphasized their timeless hunger. For a few moments, the surf seemed to have a voice, singing of mortality- All hurt is like the endless surge of seas, All hurt is like the endless surge of seas, The wear and tumbling that leaves no welt But only sand instead of granite ease -until he almost stumbled into his fragmented past. But then the ledge rounded a bulge and became the floor of another split in the battered cliff.

The sun was setting quickly now: he could barely see. This crack led downward without visible limit or end into the heart of the gutrock. After a dozen steps, however, Naybahn and Branl brought him to a break in the left-hand wall of the split, a gap just wide enough to admit the Ranyhyn. Drawn through the break into complete darkness, Covenant sensed that he was entering an open s.p.a.ce like a chamber in the stone. Just for a moment, he thought that the chamber was a closed cavity. But almost at once, he discerned a slit of gloom in the direction of the sea; heard the faint plash and susurrus of water.

He could not smell salt. Air-currents flowing into and out of the cave carried away the ocean's scent.

"Here is shelter, ur-Lord," Branl stated flatly. "Thus shielded, you will suffer little of the wind's chill, though doubtless the stone is cold. And beyond us arises a goodly spring, flowing past our feet to drain from the cliff."

Covenant nodded, trusting the Humbled to see what he could not. "What about the Harrow's horse?"

"Clyme and Mh.o.r.n.ym will guide the beast to water here." Branl spoke like the darkness. "Thereafter the Ranyhyn and your mount will surely depart to feed above the cliff. When they have cropped their fill, however, I antic.i.p.ate that they will return to this covert, to share warmth and rest. In that event, the Humbled will stand guard at the rims of the precipice."

Covenant nodded again. He felt perfectly capable of freezing to death if three horses did not suffice to warm the chamber. Nevertheless he was content with his sanctuary. It was better than any covert that he had expected to find. "If you'll guide me to a place where I can sit down-preferably someplace dry-I'll get us some light."

And some heat? He hoped so.

Holding Covenant's arm, Branl steered him to a level surface where he was able to step over the stream. Beyond the spill of water, the chamber's floor rose toward its far wall in stages like steps. There Covenant sat down and carefully untucked the bundled krill krill from his waist. from his waist.

He had reason to believe that Loric's dagger could cut anything. Long ago, he had stabbed it into the top of a stone table. With as much care as his deadened and foreshortened fingers could manage, he unwound fabric from the blade without touching the metal. The haft and the gem he kept covered. After a moment's hesitation, he raised his arms and drove the krill krill's point at the rock between his boots.

He expected a hard jolt, a skitter of metal as the blade skidded across stone. But the knife pierced rock as if it were flesh; bit deep and held fast, standing like an icon in the floor.

"Well, d.a.m.n," he breathed unsteadily. "At least that that worked." worked."

With the nub-ends of his fingers, he unwrapped the rest of the cloth; let the gem's bright silver shine out.

It resembled a beacon, but he chose to believe that it would not draw Joan's attention if he did not touch it.

The sudden blaze of light filled the cave: it seemed to efface even the possibility of shadows. Branl stood etched in the air beside a brisk stream that caught the radiance and glittered flowing argent as it ran toward a narrow slit like an embrasure in the fortification of the cliff. As Naybahn drank from the stream, the stallion's coat glowed as if it had been touched with transcendence, and the star on his forehead gleamed.

Apart from the window to the outer world on one side, and the tapering hollow opposite it from which the spring emerged, the chamber was shaped like a dome. Even at its tallest point, the ceiling was too low to let a Giant stand fully upright; but the dome was high enough, and more than wide enough, to admit several horses. Its walls and ceiling were oddly smooth: the eldritch gem's echo of wild magic made them look burnished, almost holy, as if at some point in the distant past they had formed a primitive fane. In contrast, however, the floor was rough and scalloped, composed of a different stone which seemed to insist that it was made for darkness rather than for light.

As Branl had predicted, the rock was cold. Covenant already felt its chill seeping into him through his damp jeans. Fortunately he also felt steady heat emanating from Loric's dagger. White gold in the hands of its rightful wielder made the whole knife too hot for his unprotected flesh. By that sign, he knew that Joan was still alive. Inadvertently her reflected desperation might warm the entire chamber.

"Thank you," he murmured to Naybahn. He needed to express his grat.i.tude, whether or not the Ranyhyn understood him. "I forgot about this place-if I ever knew it existed. You came back to the Land at the right time. None of us would have gotten this far without you." Especially Linden. "And we sure as h.e.l.l wouldn't get any farther."

Naybahn whickered softly, tossed his head. The silver shining in his eyes looked like pride.

Covenant wanted to ask Branl how Clyme and Mh.o.r.n.ym fared with the Harrow's mount. But an answer to that question would not quicken their arrival, or restore the destrier's stamina, or relieve Covenant's underlying fears. Instead he inquired abruptly, "How far are we from Foul's Creche?"

Branl appeared to consult a map of his memories. "In a direct line, ur-Lord, the ruins of Corruption's former abode lie no more than fifteen leagues distant. However, these cliffs are rugged, forbidding clear pa.s.sage. I gauge that we must traverse a score of leagues-if," he added, "the riven promontory of Ridjeck Thome is indeed our destination." Then he shrugged. "If our goal lies elsewhere, the Ranyhyn know it. The Humbled do not."

With a wave of one hand, Covenant dismissed Branl's proviso. "a.s.sume we're going to Foul's Creche. Where else is Joan likely to be? That place is too d.a.m.n fitting fitting." A wilderness of broken granite between the Sunbirth Sea and the Shattered Hills: enough rubble to symbolize dozens of millennia. Joan's attacks on Time required a physical manifestation. She tore instants into chaos by destroying stones. The Earth was the incarnation of the Laws which enabled it to live: she struck at one by harming the other. And Covenant did not doubt that the Despiser's malice still permeated the wreckage of Foul's Creche. The evil of the Illearth Stone lingered there as well. Such things would enhance turiya turiya Herem's possession. "So how long will it take us to get there?" Herem's possession. "So how long will it take us to get there?"

Branl studied Covenant flatly. "Since you choose to rely upon a.s.sumptions, ur-Lord, I will do the same. If your mount regains strength sufficient to bear you, I gauge that we will sight the remains of Ridjeck Thome at nightfall on the morrow."

Another day-h.e.l.l and blood, Covenant swore to himself. Too much time had already pa.s.sed, and the Worm was coming. The Earth did not have long to live. Yet so far he and the Land's last defenders had accomplished nothing except Jeremiah's rescue from the Lost Deep, and from the croyel croyel. True, Esmer had been put to rest. But his release had been the gift of the ur-viles and Waynhim, and of Stave. Covenant himself had done little to justify his return to life.

He needed to face Joan.

He needed to be ready. He could not afford to fail.

But he still had no idea how to answer her anguish.

Eventually Clyme entered the cave with Mh.o.r.n.ym and the destrier. While the horses relieved their long thirst, Branl left to search the slopes above the cliff for more aliantha aliantha. He was still absent when Mh.o.r.n.ym and Naybahn led the Harrow's mount back out of the chamber to feed, leaving Covenant alone with Clyme and the krill krill. For a time, the steady tug of air through the cave seemed to draw off more heat than the dagger offered, siphoning every possibility of comfort through the crack in the cliff-face. But then Branl returned with a double handful of treasure-berries; and when Covenant had eaten, the fruit's rich sustenance gave him a measure of protection from the cold.

The seeds he thrust into one of his pockets so that he could scatter them on fertile soil later.

Later the three horses also returned; and Clyme left to stand guard over the covert. The destrier still looked like a living derelict, dull-eyed and shambling. Small convulsions ran through its muscles, and it moved as though it sought to limp with all four legs simultaneously. Nevertheless Covenant saw hints of nascent recovery. Two or three days of rest and abundant fodder might well restore the charger's contentious spirit.

Ah, h.e.l.l, he sighed. He had no choice: he would ride as long as his mount lasted. After that, he would have to walk-or to run, if he could manage that much haste.

Whatever happened, he was not going to ride the Ranyhyn. Broken promises would not save the Land. There are There are always always evil means evil means. He had said that to the Humbled. The only way to avoid evil means is to do nothing The only way to avoid evil means is to do nothing. Nevertheless he had no intention of discarding any more promises. He had already done enough harm to vindicate Lord Foul's expectations. Mere days ago, he had sacrificed Elena to She Who Must Not Be Named. If he had no other choice, he meant to kill Joan: an evil means evil means if ever there was one. And he had hurt Linden- if ever there was one. And he had hurt Linden- His own humanity would turn against him if he started breaking his promises.

Fortunately Mh.o.r.n.ym, Naybahn, and the destrier gave off a surprising amount of warmth in the constricted s.p.a.ce. Together they and the krill krill softened the chamber's chill. By slow increments, the air acquired a modic.u.m of comfort, and the stone surrendered some of its cold. After a while, Covenant began to think about sleep. softened the chamber's chill. By slow increments, the air acquired a modic.u.m of comfort, and the stone surrendered some of its cold. After a while, Covenant began to think about sleep.

Stretching out on a step near the krill krill, he closed his eyes and tried to let himself drift. But instead of slumber and dreams, he sank into unbidden memories.

For no reason that he could name, he remembered quellvisks quellvisks.

Monsters as tall as Giants. Six taloned limbs, each gnarled with muscle and theurgy. Eyes all around their crude skulls. Fangs dripping venomous magicks. Minds capable of lore and bitter ambition. Once they had been very different beings, a species of sentient herbivores. The transformation which had created quellvisks quellvisks from such creatures had been Lord Foul's only dangerous achievement during his centuries among the Demimages of Vidik Amar. Doing what he could with monsters both too intelligent and too savage to be ruled, the Despiser had given them an aspiration which might serve his purpose. When the from such creatures had been Lord Foul's only dangerous achievement during his centuries among the Demimages of Vidik Amar. Doing what he could with monsters both too intelligent and too savage to be ruled, the Despiser had given them an aspiration which might serve his purpose. When the quellvisks quellvisks had rendered the Demimages extinct, Lord Foul had convinced them that they could master the entire Earth if they first slew the had rendered the Demimages extinct, Lord Foul had convinced them that they could master the entire Earth if they first slew the Elohim Elohim.

By that means, the Despiser had hoped to awaken the Worm.

Even in that distant age, the Elohim Elohim were too self-absorbed to regard the threat. They did not go out to battle because they saw no need: they believed that the were too self-absorbed to regard the threat. They did not go out to battle because they saw no need: they believed that the quellvisks quellvisks would turn against each other; destroy themselves. Therefore the Despiser considered the would turn against each other; destroy themselves. Therefore the Despiser considered the Elohim Elohim ripe for ruin. But they were roused from their rapt immersions when the ripe for ruin. But they were roused from their rapt immersions when the quellvisks quellvisks found their way to found their way to Elemesnedene Elemesnedene.

When the Elohim Elohim finally fought back for the first and last time in the Earth's history, they did so without restraint or pity. They had been affronted to the core of their surquedry, and they left nothing of their foes except bones. finally fought back for the first and last time in the Earth's history, they did so without restraint or pity. They had been affronted to the core of their surquedry, and they left nothing of their foes except bones.

Undisturbed, the Worm of the World's End had continued its slumber.

"Ur-Lord."

Involuntarily Covenant remembered what the Elohim Elohim had done with those bones. Muirwin Delenoth, resting place of abhorrence. Somewhere on the Lower Land west of the Shattered Hills. As if the Land were a midden for everything that the had done with those bones. Muirwin Delenoth, resting place of abhorrence. Somewhere on the Lower Land west of the Shattered Hills. As if the Land were a midden for everything that the Elohim Elohim despised. despised.

"Unbeliever," Branl said more insistently. "You must rouse." He shook Covenant's shoulder. "There is peril."

With a startled jerk, Covenant opened his eyes.

For a moment, he could see nothing except the blaze of the krill krill, bright as a tocsin in his blurred gaze. As he blinked, however, his covert took shape around the gem's light. The stream ran, undimmed, across the cave to tumble down the outer precipice. Branl stood stolidly over him, waiting for him to shed the remnants of his dreams.

Outside, the past day's gale still blew. It moaned as it struggled through the cave.

The destrier had folded its legs under it to sleep on the other side of the stream. The beast appeared to be resting deeply. But there was something missing- With an awkward heave, Covenant pushed himself to sit up. Swallowing sleep, he asked hoa.r.s.ely, "Where are the Ranyhyn?"

"Creatures approach, ur-Lord," answered Branl, "a score of small beings. When Clyme discerned their advance, Naybahn and Mh.o.r.n.ym appeared to do so as well. They have departed. It is my thought that they mean to watch over us in Clyme's stead, freeing him to join in your defense."

Creatures? Covenant shook his head; tried to clear away his confusion. Defense? His fears were as confused as the previous day's storms. While he strove to knit Branl's words into a sequence that made sense, he asked, "What time is it?"

Branl regarded him without expression. "Dawn lags behind the creatures. We must perforce meet with them in darkness. And we must not await them here. In this place, their advance will be constricted. That is to our benefit. But we cannot flee at need. Therefore we must stand on open ground."

Covenant started to rise. Then he sat down again. "Wait a minute. Let's think about this." The krill krill was his only weapon, but he could not carry it unwrapped. And he might not be able to use it without touching the metal. "These creatures. What are they? What do they want? How do you know they're dangerous?" was his only weapon, but he could not carry it unwrapped. And he might not be able to use it without touching the metal. "These creatures. What are they? What do they want? How do you know they're dangerous?"

If the Humbled felt impatient, he did not show it. "They are human-like in form, but small, little more than shoulder-height, with large eyes well suited to sight in darkness. Though they resemble children, they are naked against the elements, clad neither in garments nor in pelts. Upon some few occasions, the Masters have beheld such creatures, always at a considerable distance, and always within Sarangrave Flat. Indeed, the waters of the Sarangrave appear to be their habitation. And while we have taken note of them, they have betrayed no awareness of us.