Against All Things Ending Part 7

"Therefore I am come, bearing in my person the conjoined resolve of our kind. This in itself is of vast import, as I am. Heretofore no cause or exigency has lured the Insequent as a race from the solitary study and hunger which alone enables our multifarious accomplishments. Yet we crave life, as life itself craves continuance, and the utter termination of every desire and appet.i.te has now been made imminent. If the Earth falls, no Insequent will remain to mourn its pa.s.sing. For this reason, as we would for no lesser cause, we have set aside our solitude, that we may unite our intent in my person. I embody all that has made of our kind who we are.

"As sigil and emblem that I am the authorized emissary of the Insequent, I proffer this hint of my powers."

Around his head, ribbands twined and waved as if of their own volition, seeming to grow first longer and then shorter as they fluttered like the language of an obscure ritual. Limned in argence, they performed a florid masque. Then, before Linden-or the Harrow, apparently-could guess what this display might mean, the Harrow's destrier vanished between his legs.

Deprived of his mount, he fell heavily to the greensward; landed with an involuntary grunt and a bitter obscenity.

The laughter of the Giants stoked his anger as he sprang to his feet. Linden expected him to summon a counterattack of some kind. Instead of striking out, however, he merely adjusted his doublet, restored his chlamys to its insouciant angle across his shoulders. Although his aura fumed hotly, he seemed to see something in the Ardent's magicks that was invisible to Linden; something that compelled restraint.

Smiling down at his fellow Insequent, the Ardent stated, "We will in no way intrude upon your bargain with the lady, or upon your purposes thereafter. Indeed, I am instructed to a.s.sist them. The long strictures of our kind we will honor. Nevertheless I am come to impose this condition, that the lady herself must be the sole arbiter of the terms of your oath."

For an instant, the Harrow looked shocked. Then outrage darkened his features. He appeared to be mustering a curse as the Ardent insisted, "She alone will determine what is encompa.s.sed by your oath and what is not. Nor will we deem your oath fulfilled until she declares that she is content.

"Also," he proclaimed ostentatiously, "I will accompany you in the name of all those Insequent whom you have invoked. Doubtless you contemplate some escape from your oath, which I will prevent. And it may chance that you will require my aid."

Contradicting his florid manner, a haunted look darkened his gaze when he spoke of aid. But it was brief; gone almost as soon as Linden noticed it.

She blinked at the two men as if she were dazed. Too much had happened: she could not think clearly.-abide by your oath and yet betray-How was it possible that the Ardent's apprehensions made no sense to her? Her desire to redeem her son must have wider implications than she had realized. But she felt entirely unable to imagine what they were.

Abruptly Mahrtiir growled, "Have done, Insequent. The Ringthane has friends enough. Your pretense of concern conveys naught. Speak plainly or desist. Name the betrayal contemplated by the Harrow, that we may gauge the worth of your intent."

The Ardent inclined his head to acknowledge Mahrtiir. Unexpectedly grave, he replied, "Manethrall, I cannot. Think no ill of me when I observe that any effort to shape or guide the lady's deeds and choices will be seen-and seen rightly-as dire interference. My mission is to ensure the terms and fulfillment of the Harrow's oath, not to instruct the lady in their interpretation.

"Misliking the Harrow as I do, I would find no small joy in thwarting him. Have I not admitted that I, too, am p.r.o.ne to greed? But here I personify the united will of the Insequent. Any deviation from that resolve will breach the sacred prohibition which enables the Insequent to endure and prosper. Answering you, I will bring down my own destruction and accomplish only sorrow."

Linden had heard such reasoning before. Both the Theomach and the Mahdoubt, in their distinct fashions, had presented similar arguments.

When she understood that the Ardent was trying to walk a path as straight and strict as theirs-that his ambiguities were necessary to the singular ethics of the Insequent-she at last found her voice. Hardly knowing what she meant to say, she suggested unsteadily, "In that case, let's play fair. If the Harrow can't ride, you shouldn't sit there looking down on him."

Or on her.

The Harrow flashed her a glance that she could not read. The emptiness of his eyes swallowed the character of his reaction.

The Ardent surprised her again by emitting a loud guffaw. "Well said, lady. Doubtless you merit the Mahdoubt's regard, ill-considered though your many extravagances may appear to be. I am neither mightier nor less flawed than the Harrow. I have merely been elected to enact the will of the Insequent."

Laughing again, he sent out streamers of chartreuse and fuligin on all sides, bands interwoven with crimson and cerulean. They seemed to float independent of him, as though they might tug free at any moment. But he did not loose them-or they did not loose themselves. Instead, by some means that baffled Linden's senses, they caused his mount to disappear.

Unlike the Harrow, however, he did not fall. Cradled in ribbands, he drifted gently to the gra.s.s as if his bulk were as light as air.

Delighted by his display, the Giants laughed with him. Obviously pleased, the Ardent gazed up at them with the open wonder of a child. Flapping his arms, he caused his apparel to unfurl and cavort in a glad gambol.

Their momentary mirth did not touch Linden. But it gave her a chance to gather herself and think. While the Harrow ground his teeth, waiting in vexation for the laughter to subside, she tried to guess where the potential for betrayal might lie in his vow.

Peripherally she was aware of Covenant and his escort. Ignoring or avoiding her and the Insequent, he had walked the Humbled and their accompaniment of Giants and Ramen to the rim of the hollow. There, however, he turned and began to move slowly back toward the dead stump and Loric's krill krill. His manner still seemed disjointed, torn between understanding and bewilderment. He had not yet found his way back to the present.

Grasping at allusions, Linden asked Stave quietly, "What are they talking about?" With a nod, she indicated Covenant and the Masters. "Has Covenant explained the Theomach? Or the Insequent?"

Stave could still hear the mental communion of the Haruchai Haruchai, although he had learned to close his own thoughts against them. In a low voice, he answered, "The ur-Lord does not speak of the Theomach. His offer to do so he appeared to forget when it had been uttered." He may have meant, When it had accomplished its purpose by distracting the Humbled. "Rather he rambles forward and back through the most ancient history of the Haruchai Haruchai, relating tales which none have forgotten. The Giants appear gladdened to hear of unfamiliar events. Saying nothing, the Cords remain wary of the Humbled."

"Will they attack the Ardent?" asked Linden. "Galt and the others?"

Long days ago, they had a.s.sailed the Harrow without warning.

"Not while the Unbeliever holds their allegiance. They see no future for the Land which does not rest with Thomas Covenant."

Linden sighed to herself. She also saw no future-But that was not her concern. She had other needs to meet.

Once again, she faced the challenge of the Harrow.

-it is the nature of avarice to mislead. She could not guess what secret intentions might lie hidden beneath the surface of his oath. Nevertheless she was sure of one question that he had not answered.

"All right," she murmured when silence had fallen around her. Staring into the Harrow's blackness, she said, "I know what I've offered you. I know what you've sworn to do if I keep my end of the bargain. But I don't know why you still care. The Worm of the World's End is coming." How had he known that she would rouse the Worm? "What can you possibly gain with my Staff and Covenant's ring?" He had conceived his desires before the silence of Covenant's spectre had provoked her determination to attempt Covenant's resurrection. "You aren't crazy enough to think they can protect you when the Arch collapses. But you've avoided telling me what you think you can accomplish.

"You said that Infelice is wrong about 'the Earth's ruin.'"-no doom is inevitable-"I want you to explain what you're going to do once we've rescued Jeremiah."

"I will not," the Harrow retorted at once. "The Ardent's a.s.sertions are specious. My purposes are my own. I will not speak of them to those whose aid I do not require."

Before Linden could muster a response, the Ardent put in, "Doubtless you desire to say nothing of such matters. I must a.s.sure you, however, that you will not remain silent." He sounded supremely confident-and secretly fearful. "You cannot be blind to the might with which I have been entrusted. The lady, and only the lady, will interpret the terms of your vow. That benison has been vouchsafed to her, in answer to your greed. You will satisfy her, or you will quell your hunger for her instruments of power."

"If I do so," the Harrow protested hotly, "the Earth entire must perish."

"Perchance," admitted the Ardent. He seemed untroubled by the prospect. "Or perchance you are mistaken. My concern-and the forces which I am able to invoke-pertain chiefly to the lady's contentment in her dealings with you."

"I will not not-" the Harrow tried to insist.

The Ardent interrupted him. With a troubled smile, the beribboned Insequent asked, "Must I demonstrate the puissance invested in me?"

Linden sensed a struggle between the two men, although no aspect of their contest was visible to ordinary sight. The Ardent continued smiling while the Harrow scowled. If they tested each other, they did so in a way that resembled the Mahdoubt's eerie battle with the Harrow. Linden half expected one or the other of them to flicker and fade- Behind her, Covenant had reached the krill krill. Now he walked around it, studying it as he talked softly to the Humbled, the Swordmainnir, the Cords. As ever, Linden could not discern the emotions of the Haruchai Haruchai; but she felt Bhapa's growing bafflement, Pahni's yearning to stand with Liand. The Giants listened with perplexed attention, as if Covenant spoke a foreign tongue.

Abruptly the Harrow shrugged. He betrayed no sign of strain as he shifted his attention from the Ardent to Linden.

Without preamble, he announced, "Infelice conceives that I crave your son's supernal gifts for my own use. In this her sight is clear."

In an instant, everything changed for Linden. Shock like a brush of flame burned her skin from head to foot: realities seemed to reel and veer: the bottom fell out of her heart, into the Harrow's eyes. Gasping for breath, she tried to cry out, You b.a.s.t.a.r.d b.a.s.t.a.r.d, you son of a b.i.t.c.h! b.i.t.c.h! But she failed. You want to But she failed. You want to use use him? After everything that he's already suffered? him? After everything that he's already suffered?

The Ardent beamed at her as though the outcome of his insistence pleased him.

"Linden!" protested Liand. "Your son son? Is this Insequent as heartless as he names the Elohim Elohim?"

Oh, G.o.d. With an effort, Linden forced herself to breathe; fought for steadiness. She had not yet surrendered her powers: she could still make choices.

She alone will determine what is encompa.s.sed by your oath and what is not.

The Ardent had implied that he would prevent the Harrow from doing anything to Jeremiah without her consent. She could afford to hear the rest of the Harrow's self-justification.

That thought or hope or blind wish enabled her to demand through her teeth, "Go on."

"Yet Infelice is ignorant," the Harrow explained, "of the precise use which I desire. She imagines-and dreads-that my intent resembles the Vizard's. This is the 'eternal loss' which she abhors. She deems that I desire a prison for the Elohim Elohim-and that I am witless enough to believe that the Worm will withdraw from harm if it is deprived of its natural repast.

"But I am not such a fool. The Elohim Elohim are little more than Earthpower made sapient. If the Worm cannot feed upon them, it will devour other sustenance until it attains the culmination of its hunger. In this, it resembles any beast. To imprison the are little more than Earthpower made sapient. If the Worm cannot feed upon them, it will devour other sustenance until it attains the culmination of its hunger. In this, it resembles any beast. To imprison the Elohim Elohim will gratify my pride. It will gain naught else. will gratify my pride. It will gain naught else.

"Lady-" The Harrow hesitated briefly; glanced at the Ardent. Then he shrugged again. "It is my intent to wield both Law and wild magic in your son's service. With such forces at his command, he will possess might sufficient to devise a gaol into which the Worm must enter, and from which it will be unable to emerge. This you cannot accomplish in my stead. The reasons are many. I will cite two.

"First, you lack my knowledge of such theurgies. Regardless of your own desires and extremity, you do not comprehend the precise form of aid which your son will require. You cannot be guided by insights which you have not earned. Through your intervention, your son's failure will be a.s.sured.

"Second, he alone is not adequately lorewise to fashion the gaol I envision. He has not been granted centuries of study in which to perfect his gifts. Therefore I must rely upon the connivance of the croyel croyel."

Linden understood him immediately; involuntarily. The croyel croyel: the dire succubus which she had last seen feeding on Jeremiah's neck, draining his life and mind while it gave him power. Swift as instinct, she grasped that the Harrow meant to leave her son her son under that vicious being's control. The dark Insequent needed more than Earthpower and wild magic and Jeremiah's talent for constructs: he needed the under that vicious being's control. The dark Insequent needed more than Earthpower and wild magic and Jeremiah's talent for constructs: he needed the croyel croyel's specific powers and knowledge.

The mere idea filled her with fury. For Jeremiah's sake, she wanted to strike the Harrow down, stamp out his life. And for Jeremiah's sake, she restrained herself. She believed the Harrow's claim that he alone could take her to her son.

"Will you permit this?" Liand flung his own anger and dismay at the Ardent. "Is this the measure of your kind, that you are careless of a child's pain? Was the Mahdoubt alone in her compa.s.sion?"

The Ardent twisted his features into an expression of distress. His ribbands spun ambiguously about him, signaling emotions that meant nothing to Linden. But he did not answer.

She alone will determine-Nor will we deem your oath fulfilled- "You still aren't telling the truth," she insisted. "You've wanted my power ever since we first met. You wanted Jeremiah and the croyel croyel. But you didn't know that I was going to wake up the Worm. You couldn't. How am I supposed to trust you now?"

The Harrow gave her a glare like an abyss. "Lady, I repeat that the Insequent do not utter falsehood. The awakening of the Worm was not necessary to my desires. For one with the knowledge which I possess, and with the powers which I will hold, the Worm sleeping would have been as readily ensnared as the Worm roused. Indeed, it was my first intent to deprive the Elohim Elohim of all purpose and worth forever, as well as to preserve the Earth from ruin, by ensuring that the Worm of all purpose and worth forever, as well as to preserve the Earth from ruin, by ensuring that the Worm could not could not be roused. be roused.

"That is no longer possible. Therefore I have adjusted my intent to accommodate the extravagance of your folly."

"All right." Linden did not waste herself arguing with him. "Go on," she repeated bitterly. "Finish this."

The Harrow sighed; but he did not refuse.

"The croyel croyel's noisome magicks and cunning are essential to the achievement of my aim. This you will not permit while you remain able to prevent it. Thus it is necessary to the salvation of the Earth that I I possess your Staff and the white gold ring, and that possess your Staff and the white gold ring, and that you you do not." do not."

Linden looked to the Ardent. "And if that wasn't my original understanding of our agreement? What happens then?"

Bands of color wafted up and down the Ardent's form, signing certainty, masking alarm. "Then your will prevails, lady. The Harrow must abandon his purpose for your son, or he must set aside his craving for your instruments of power. The Insequent as a people will countenance no other outcome."

Stave glanced at the group around Covenant and the krill krill. Then he turned his gaze on the Harrow.

"There is another matter to consider also. If Infelice has spoken sooth in aught, we must recognize that life cannot endure without death. The Worm of the World's End is necessary to the Earth's continuance. If your vaunt succeeds, and the Worm is imprisoned, will not this habitation cease to sustain life? Will not the whole of this creation become barrenness?"

"Well said, Haruchai Haruchai," muttered Mahrtiir. "The Harrow is derangement made flesh. His greed will hasten every destruction."

Linden heard Stave; but her attention was fixed on the Harrow. Her heart thudded in her chest as though it had reached the limit of its endurance. If he called her bluff by recanting his claims-if he mastered his cupidity-Jeremiah would be lost to her. He would die alone in torment when the Earth perished.

"I'm waiting." Her every word trembled. The Harrow had not acknowledged Stave's query. "What's it going to be?"

If he dared her to find Jeremiah without his help, she would surely crumble.

For a moment, he addressed the Ardent rather than Linden. "You demand much," he said: the deep snarl of a beast. "Three things I sought from the lady. One I have already eschewed. It was denied to me by the Mahdoubt's unconscionable obstruction. Do you truly dream that I will surrender still more of my desires?"

Then he replied to Linden. Harsh as acid, he said, "The conjoined resolve of the Insequent suffices to command me. Lady, I will honor your reading of my oath. My purpose for your son I set aside-for the present.

"Yet yours," he promised fiercely, "will be an empty triumph. You evade my intent to no avail. When we have retrieved your son, the only powers which offer hope to the Earth will remain in my possession. You will strive as you may to free your son from the croyel croyel. In that endeavor, I did not not vow my aid. And when you have failed, as you must-when you stand powerless before the world's doom-I will inquire if by chance you have reconsidered the terms of your 'contentment.'" vow my aid. And when you have failed, as you must-when you stand powerless before the world's doom-I will inquire if by chance you have reconsidered the terms of your 'contentment.'"

A moment later, he added with less anger, "The doom-saying of the Elohim Elohim does not merit credence. They care only for their own lives. If the Worm is imprisoned, they may indeed cease to exist. But the Earth and all other life continued while the Worm slumbered. If it is imprisoned, they will endure. I do not propose to does not merit credence. They care only for their own lives. If the Worm is imprisoned, they may indeed cease to exist. But the Earth and all other life continued while the Worm slumbered. If it is imprisoned, they will endure. I do not propose to slay slay it." it."

Linden might have asked the Ardent, Is that true? But she was trembling too hard to speak. Now, she told herself. Do it now. Before he changes his mind.

The time had come for absolute answers. She was going to give Covenant's wedding band and the Staff of Law to the Harrow. As soon as she could make her muscles obey her- Infelice had told her, Your remorse will surpa.s.s your strength to bear it Your remorse will surpa.s.s your strength to bear it. She did not doubt the Elohim Elohim. Nevertheless she was prepared to bear any burden in order to save her son. Long ago, she had recognized that even the Land and Thomas Covenant did not mean as much to her as Jeremiah.

And Covenant had said, I think we should do this Linden's way I think we should do this Linden's way. He may have understood the implications of his support.

"All right." She could not yet control her voice, but she did not let her weakness stop her. "I'm not ready to leave. There are still a few things that I have to do. But I want to make this bargain," bind the Harrow to his word, "while the Ardent is here to keep you honest."

Nothing relieved the darkness of the Harrow's gaze. Perhaps nothing could. But his attention sharpened suddenly: every line of his elegant form became vivid. His aura was a blaze of vindicated avarice.

"Linden?" Liand murmured in alarm. "Ringthane," asked the Manethrall, "are you certain?" But they were not trying to dissuade her. They were only cautioning her. In spite of everything, they believed in her- Stave was Haruchai Haruchai: she could not sense the character of his emotions. Nevertheless she trusted that he would not interfere-and that he would warn her if the Humbled came to stop her.

They must have been aware of her. Yet somehow Covenant's concentration on the krill krill held them back. held them back.

With unwonted anxiety, Rime Coldspray said, "I mislike this course. Linden Avery, I have named you Giantfriend. We will not oppose you. But I fear that you sail seas as hurtful and chartless as the Soulbiter, where every heading brings despair."

Linden ached for her friends. But there was nothing that she could say to rea.s.sure them. She feared as many things as they did, and with more reason. She knew her own inadequacy better than they could.

Deliberately she took a last step toward the Harrow.

Unable to quash the tremors that undermined her strength, she tried to lift both of her arms at the same time; tried and failed. Covenant's ring was closed in her left hand: from her fist dangled the chain which for ten years had carried her only reminder of his love. Her right gripped desperation around the Staff of Law. For one more moment, she hesitated, torn between self-imposed bereavements.

Mere days or entire lifetimes ago, she had refused the ring to Roger Covenant even though she had believed that he was his father. Now, shivering as if she were feverish, she offered Covenant's wedding band to the Harrow.

He s.n.a.t.c.hed at the chain; took the ring from her like a man who feared that she would change her mind.

Releasing the Staff required a greater effort, not because Covenant's ring had less emotional weight, but because the Staff was hers hers. With it, she had effaced caesures caesures; mended wounds; unmade the Sunbane. She had transformed the pure wood to blackness in battle. Caerroil Wildwood himself had given her his gift of runes.

In dreams, Covenant had told her that she needed her Staff.

Unclosing her fingers was a fundamental abnegation. She felt that she was selling her soul; defying the necessity of freedom. Voluntarily giving up her right to choose. She could not have abandoned so much of herself for any cause except Jeremiah.

That boy doesn't deserve what's happened to him.

Then she had to avert her eyes. The Harrow's glee as he grasped the Staff and held it high, brandishing it and Covenant's ring like trophies, was too savage to be borne.

"Behold, my people!" he shouted at the stars. "Witness and tremble! Soon I will show myself the greatest of all Insequent, the greatest who has ever lived!"

If she had watched him, she might have lost heart altogether.

Her companions seemed unable to speak. They had not shared her visions. To them, the idea that she had roused the Worm must have felt vaguely unreal; impossible to imagine. But even Liand, the least experienced and least informed of her friends, understood the magnitude of her surrender to the Harrow.

A short distance away, the Ardent's ribbands wavered aimlessly, as if he sought to conceal a private terror.

Perhaps the thought that without power she could no longer be held responsible for the world's doom should have allowed her a measure of relief; but it did not. Instead she felt fatally weakened, as if she had dealt herself a wound too grievous to survive.