The Fatal Revenant Part 65

They had a.s.suaged their bereavement with fire. Long ago, Covenant had done the same for the Dead of The Grieve.

In her own way, Linden intended to follow their example.

The company talked for a while, eating treasure-berries and considering what lay ahead of them. The Humbled said nothing; but Stave offered the unsurprising information that the Masters knew the location of Loric's krill. The eldritch blade remained where Linden had last seen it after Caer Caveral's pa.s.sing and Hollian's resurrection. Doubtless the Masters had taken pains to ensure that the krill was forgotten; that Andelain itself was forgotten. And the Earthpower of the Hills had prevented the Land's enemies from removing or using High Lord Loric's weapon.

However, the desultory conversations did not last long. All of Linden's companions were profoundly weary. And in every respect, Andelain comforted their strained nerves, their burdened hearts. The air filled their lungs with relaxation: their bodies absorbed rea.s.surance from the gra.s.s: the scents of flowers and fruit trees and aliantha promised sanctuary. Even the darkness had a hushed and reverent timbre, a tone of reified consolation.

Soon Pahni and then Bhapa drifted into slumber. When Liand stretched out beside Pahni on the soft hillside, he fell asleep almost immediately. One by one, the Giants did the same until only Coldspray, Mahrtiir, the Haruchai, and Linden remained awake.

Confident that the Humbled, Stave, and perhaps Mahrtiir would keep watch when the Ironhand finally slept, Linden let herself lie down on the long balm of the gra.s.s. Reflexively she confirmed the presence of Jeremiah's racecar in her pocket and Covenant's ring under her shirt. Because her clothes were still damp, she wondered idly whether the spring night would grow cold enough to trouble her rest. Yet mere moments seemed to pa.s.s before she was awakened by sunlight rising beyond the tall monarchs of Andelain and Salva Gildenbourne.

Now she wondered if she had ever slept so deeply here, or felt so refreshed. Her previous nights among the Hills had been troubled ones. Involuntarily she remembered the spectre of Kevin Landwaster.

Tormented by despair, the former High Lord had implored her to halt the Unbeliever's mad intent. Kevin had believed that the Despiser's cruelty had broken Covenant.

His purpose is the work of Despite. He must not be permitted.

Similar things had been said about Linden.

Yet Kevin had been wrong. Covenant's surrender had secured the Arch of Time. With sunshine on her face and Andelain's beneficence like chrism in her veins, Linden could believe that those who feared her capacity for darkness were also wrong.

She can do this. And there's no one else who can even make the attempt.

The Hills were safe. She and her friends had survived to reach this place of luxuriance and health. Now she was ready for the outcome of her choices. When she reached the krill- Around the ashes of the caamora, some of the Giants were awake. The others stirred, roused by the quiet murmurs of their comrades. Liand still slept; but Pahni and Bhapa had risen to walk the greensward with their Manethrall, gathering treasure-berries. Stave and the Humbled guarded the rest of the company from perils which no longer threatened them. They looked as poised and vigilant as ever, like men who did not need rest and had never experienced fatigue. One night in Andelain had healed their lingering hurts.

There was no sign of Longwrath. If he remained hidden near the border of Salva Gildenbourne, Linden could not detect him. Like Anele, apparently, he was terrified by anything which endangered the hermetic logic of his madness. Therefore he feared the Wraiths. If their touch amended his insanity, he would remember the consequences of his deeds.

Sighing, Linden set the ramifications of Longwrath's dilemma aside. Anele had not been refused by the Wraiths. That meant more to her than Longwrath's desire for her death. She could hope that Anele might find a measure of solace among his Dead.

When Stonemage saw that Linden was awake, the woman nudged Liand. His eyes sparkled with antic.i.p.ation as he sat up.

Escorted unnecessarily by Stave, Linden walked down the slope to drink from the stream. Then she washed her face and hands and arms. The water ran cleanly now, free of the tumbling detritus of the previous day's storm; and its chill tang sharpened her senses.

A handful of aliantha completed her preparations. While her companions ate enough to sustain them, she asked Stave how long it would take to reach the krill.

In two days, we will gain the Soulsease," he replied. if you are borne by the Giants, and they do not weary themselves running. Loric's krill stands little more than half a league to the south of the river."

Linden frowned. She was more than ready: she was eager. And Jeremiah had already spent far too much time in torment. "d.a.m.n it," she muttered. "Isn't there some way that we can go faster?

"Don't misunderstand me." She included Coldspray in her appeal. "I'm grateful to be here. I'm grateful for everything that you've done. I can't remember the last time that we weren't in danger. This is Andelain. We ought to relax and enjoy it.

"But I need my son." She needed Thomas Covenant. "I have to be able to save him. And for that, I need power," a weapon which would transcend her inadequacy. "I don't know how I can stand waiting for two more days."

Coldspray's chagrin was plain as she contemplated more haste. The Swordmainnir had already run most of the way from The Grieve. And they had lost two of their comrades: they had lost Longwrath. Protests clouded her gaze as she searched for a reply.

But Stave held up a hand to forestall the Giant. Instead of answering Linden, he turned to Mahrtiir.

For a long moment, he and the Manethrall appeared to study each other, although Mahrtiir had no eyes and one of Stave's was gone. Then Mahrtiir cleared his throat.

"Ringthane-" he began carefully. "We parted from the Ranyhyn in order that they might be spared from the skurj. It is well that we did so. But now that danger has pa.s.sed. And they are Ranyhyn, capable of much which defies comprehension. They could not have borne us safely in Salva Gildenbourne. Yet you cannot question that they are able to rejoin us in Andelain.

"Then it will not be we who slow the long strides of the Giants. Rather it will be they who limit our pace."

The Ranyhyn-Caught by astonishment, Linden stared at him. Hyn! G.o.d, yes.

She yearned to arrive by nightfall, when the Dead might walk among the trees and copses and lucent rivulets of Andelain.

"Linden," Liand put in. "is this wise? We did not quit the Ranyhyn solely to preserve them from the skurj. We sought also to spare them an arduous pa.s.sage through Salva Gildenbourne. And we have been less than two days separated from them. Surely they-" He faltered, then finished more strongly. They are Ranyhyn, but they are also flesh and bone. If you summon them, will they not suffer in the attempt to answer?"

While Linden hesitated, Mahrtiir said gruffly, "Do not speak when you are ignorant, Stonedownor. The Ranyhyn are beasts of Earthpower, as precious to the Land as Andelain." Beneath the surface, he appeared to wrestle with the pain of knowing that he would never again gaze upon the great horses. "If they are summoned, they will find a path and come, ready to bear those riders whom they have chosen.

"Also," he added. "the Ringthane has good cause to seek swiftness. Her own need is exceeded only by the plight of her son, and by the Land's doom."

For a moment, Liand seemed unconvinced. But then Pahni tucked her arm through his, held him tightly. When he saw her rea.s.suring smile, his apprehension eased.

Rime Coldspray peered down at Mahrtiir and Stave; at Linden; at Liand. "Limit your pace?" she growled. "That I will not credit until I have witnessed it-and even then I will require corroboration."

Two or three of her Swordmainnir chuckled.

Slowly a combative grin bared the lronhand's teeth. Are we not Giants? And do we not welcome wonders? The Manethrall of the Ramen has inspired in me a wish to behold these Ranyhyn. If they merit the service of the Ramen, they are worthy indeed." She glanced around at her comrades. When they nodded, she said, "We are loath to hasten in Andelain, where every view is balm to the worn of heart. But we have endured much to come so far. One day more will not daunt us."

Linden's heart lifted. Quickly she urged. "Stave? I can't whistle the way you do."

He complied with a bow. Facing Andelain and the west as if he had turned his back on a silent debate among the Humbled, he put his fingers to his mouth and let out a piercing call.

Three times he whistled. Then he fell silent.

For moments that seemed long to Linden, she heard no reply. She had time to doubt herself and feel the first p.r.i.c.klings of alarm. Soon, however, a distant whinny carried through the crystal air, followed by the muted rumble of hooves on deep gra.s.s.

When the horses appeared, they seemed to gallop straight into the glory of the sun. Its light blazed like heraldry in the stars on their foreheads. They were ten, and they ran as though they were the rich heart of the Hills made flesh.

Linden recognized them all: Hyn and Hynyn and Rhohm; Narunal, Naybahn, and the others. Even Hrama had answered.

Nevertheless her immediate joy faltered as she realized that all of them were hurt; desperately tired; nearly undone.

Their injuries were superficial: scratches, jabs, and bruises caused by a hurried pa.s.sage through the jungle. They showed no sign that they had encountered the skurj. But their weariness was altogether more serious. Sweat stained their coats like blood: froth splashed from their muzzles. Two or three of them stumbled at intervals, and their long muscles shuddered.

G.o.d, Linden thought. Oh, Christ. What have I done?

She could not even begin to guess how many leagues they had crossed, or how many obstacles they had overcome.

Yet they grew stronger as they approached. The change was slight but unmistakable. Andelain's vitality buoyed them along. With every stride, they absorbed energy from the ground, sucked renewal into their heaving chests. They remained near the edge of their endurance. But with a few hours of rest-with water and abundant nourishment-their exhaustion would fade. They would be ready to bear their riders.

Still Linden blamed herself for their condition. Every living thing that supported her paid too high a price for doing so. She ached to protect them all. As the Ranyhyn lurched to a halt before the glad appreciation of the Giants and the sharp empathy of the Ramen, she unfurled healing from the Staff of Law and threw it like a blanket over the great horses.

There was no danger. In this place, any exertion of Law was condign. And the Hills' benison diminished Kevin's Dirt.

Nothing hindered her as she poured strength into the depleted stamina of the Ranyhyn.

By their very nature, they partic.i.p.ated in Earthpower: they were apt vessels for her magic. They drank in flame as if it were the potent waters of Glimmermere; inhaled fire as if it combined the benefits of amanibhavam and aliantha. And as they did so, their fatigue fell away. When she was done-when she had banished their hurts and dried their coats and offered them her deepest grat.i.tude-they gleamed with life.

Some of them nickered in delight and relief. Others tossed their manes, whisked their tails, stamped their hooves. Sunshine gleamed on their coats. While the Haruchai spoke their ancient ceremonial greeting, and the Ramen bowed their heads to the earth in homage, Hyn came prancing toward Linden.

First the mare bent her forelegs and bowed her head as if in obeisance or thanks. Then she nuzzled Linden's shoulder, urging Linden to mount. Her eyes were full of laughter.

In the horserite, Hyn and Hynyn had laughed at Stave with the same affectionate kindness that Linden saw in Hyn's soft gaze. To him, they had revealed their amus.e.m.e.nt at the presumption of the Masters-and their willingness to serve her utterly.

But her own experience when she had shared the mind-blending waters of the tarn had been entirely different. Hyn and Hynyn had offered her neither laughter nor affection. Instead they had shown her visions of such horror- They had portrayed her to herself as if she were High Lord Elena, misguided and doomed. And they had superimposed images of both Linden and Covenant on Jeremiah. In the nightmare of the horserite, her efforts to redeem Covenant and her son had brought forth the Worm of the World's End.

Linden might have quailed at the memory; but she was spared by the fond mirth of Hyn's gaze. See? the mare's eyes seemed to say. I am here. We are here. And we stand with you. We have only given warning. We have not prophesied that you will fail.

"All right," she replied like a promise. In her own way, she strove to emulate the Wraiths; to repel horror and doubt as they had refused Longwrath. She had come too far to falter, and the stakes were too high. She required a conflagration so mighty that it would shake the foundations of Lord Foul's evil. You're the only one who can do this. "All right."

While the Giants voiced their approval, Linden vaulted onto Hyn's back. And when she had settled herself on the mare's immaculate acceptance, she raised high the Staff.

"It's time!" she called to her companions. Andelain and the Land's future lay open before her. "I'm done waiting. Let's do this!"

In response, the Ramen surged up from the gra.s.s. Nickering like horses, they seemed to flow onto the backs of their Ranyhyn. Even Mahrtiir mounted Narunal without uncertainty or fumbling. Stave and Liand followed their example. While the Ironhand gathered her comrades, the Humbled surged to sit astride their Ranyhyn. In moments, only Hrama lacked a rider; and he reared as if he were eager to find Anele.

"Coldspray!" Linden urged. "Set a pace that you can keep. Stop when you need rest. We'll stay with you." Somehow she would restrain her impatience. "All I want is to reach the Soulsease by sunset."

Coldspray responded, chuckling. "That is 'all'? Then we must give thanks that it is not more. Already we have run for days without number, until we feared that our souls would break, Giants though we are." After a moment, she added, "I have a better thought. When we crave rest, lave us in fire as you have bathed these Ranyhyn. With such sustenance, we will surely accomplish your desire."

"I'll do that." Leaning forward, Linden nudged Hyn into motion. "Remind me later to tell you how glad I am that you're here. I'll make a speech."

Then she whirled the Staff around her head; and the Swordmainnir began to move, chortling as they spread out behind the Ranyhyn and stretched their strides to a brisk trot. At a canter, the horses bore Linden's company up the hillside into the burgeoning splendor of spring in Andelain.

Throughout the day, Linden reveled in swiftness, and in the munificent landscape, and in the prospect of culmination. The Ranyhyn could have traveled faster; much faster. Galloping, they could have outdistanced the best speed of the Giants. But she did not wish for that. She was already fond of Coldspray, Grueburn, and their comrades. Their readiness to laugh with delight or appreciation in spite of their exertions nourished her spirit.

And the Hills nourished her as well. Although she remembered them vividly, her mind was too human to retain the full health and majesty of the woodlands, the shining of Gilden anademed in sunlight, the comfortable spread of sycamores and elms and oaks, the almost lambent sumptuousness of the greenswards. Or perhaps during her previous time in Andelain her senses had been tainted by the Sunbane, too troubled by wrongness to absorb so much beauty. As if for the first time, she saw hillsides and vales encircled by torcs or chaplets of wildflowers, aliantha, profuse primrose and daisies. When she swept past proud stands of spruce and cedar, or copses of wattle, she immersed herself in their tang and redolence as though she had never known such scents before. The friendly chatter of brooks and streams bedizened with reflections greeted her like loved ones long lost.

As she rode, Linden felt that she was absorbing and storing the essence of the Land; the ultimate reason for everything that she endured or craved. If she had not seen the Hills corrupted by the Sunbane after the pa.s.sing of the last Forestal, she might not have found the strength, the sheer pa.s.sion, to form and wield a new Staff of Law. And without Thomas Covenant and Giants, without Sunder and Hollian-without Andelain itself, treasured and vulnerable-she would not have become the woman who had given so much of herself to her chosen son.

Beyond question, she would not have loved Jeremiah if Covenant had not first loved her-and if her soul's response to Andelain had not taught her to love the Land.

On Hyn's strong back, Linden rode among the Hills as if they answered every objection to her purpose. In the life that she had lost, Jeremiah had been her Andelain. His fey creative constructs and helplessness echoed Andelain's frangible loveliness. And the use that Lord Foul now made of her son was as bitter and unforgivable as the Sunbane.

If Good cannot be accomplished by evil means, then she would believe that her means were not evil.

Three times, the company paused. The first was for Anele. Apparently his blind destination was the same as Linden's. She had scarcely begun to worry about him when she found him directly in her path. He was talking to himself in a variety of voices-too many for her to distinguish-and walking at an erratic rate, alternately slowed and spurred by a chaos of fractured communication. But he noticed the riders as soon as they drew near. At once, he scrambled at Hrama's sides as if he knew that his mount would protect him. When Galesend lifted him onto Hrama's back, he fell silent at once. Moments later, worn out by indecipherable utterances, he fell asleep with his arms dangling on either side of Hrama's neck.

Andelain had healed the burns inflicted by the blood of the skurj.

Later, as the sun reached noon, the company halted beside a lazy rill to water the Ranyhyn and let them crop the gra.s.s. The Ramen and Liand gathered treasure-berries while Linden restored the flagging stamina of the Giants. And later still, in the middle of the afternoon, they stopped again for the same reasons.

In spite of the pressure driving her, Linden felt calm and sure; content with the company's progress. Andelain nurtured a tranquility as pervasive as mansuetude. She would reach the Soulsease when she reached it. If night fell, darkness would not prevent her from locating the krill.

The Wraiths had allowed her to enter among the Hills.

Bemused by thoughts of acceptance and vindication, Linden mounted Hyn once more. When the Giants were ready, she rode on as if Andelain had healed all of her fears.

And as the sun neared the treetops in the west, casting long shadows like striations of augury across her path, she caught her first glimpse of the river through the gold leaves of Gilden and the warm flowers of fruit trees.

Tossing his head with an air of hauteur, Hynyn greeted the sight with a clarion whinny; and Hyn took a few dancing steps in a horse's gavotte. "Stone and Sea!" panted Coldspray. "When you tell the tale of your journeys, Linden Giantfriend, you must credit what we have accomplished in your name. Weary as we were, and are, I would not have believed-" She cut short her wonder and pride to catch her breath. Then she said, "You voiced a desire to gain the Soulsease River ere nightfall. We have done so. The achievement of your purpose is at hand. We will pray for the Land's healing. Thereafter we will expend entire seasons in celebration."

In a rush of excitement, Linden urged Hyn to quicken her strides. The Soulsease-! Conflicted by confluences in the west, and polluted in the east by its turmoil within the belly of Mount Thunder, the river was untrammeled and placid while it ran through Andelain: gentle as a caress, and warm as a vein of life. Millennia ago, she and Covenant had followed the course of the Soulsease toward their confrontation with the Despiser. Now she was less than a league from the place where they had left Loric's krill after Hollian's resurrection.

The sun had only begun to set, and already she was within a Giant's shout of her goal: the justification for everything that she had suffered and done since she had learned the truth about Roger Covenant and the croyel.

The other Ranyhyn kept pace with Hyn. Behind them, the Giants ran in spite of their protracted weariness. Swift with antic.i.p.ation, the company rounded a last hillock, pa.s.sed through a grove of stately Gilden, and reached the river.

Here the Soulsease tended quietly northeastward. Between its broad banks, however, it opened a gap among the trees. Although the sun was sinking, its light still lay along the water; and its farewell fire burnished the river, transforming the current to ruddy bronze like a carpet unrolled to welcome the advent of night.

As the company halted, Linden recognized the satisfied pride of the Giants, the calm confidence of the Ranyhyn. She tasted Liand's pleasure and that of the Cords. Indeed, Pahni's and Bhapa's gladness was dimmed only by their Manethrall's clenched, contained sorrow. Linden sensed the depth of Anele's dreamless slumber, the solidity of Stave's presence, the ungiving impa.s.sivity of the Humbled. But now she shared none of their reactions. Her attention had already gone past the Soulsease.

On the far side of the river, she saw the Harrow.

His relaxed poise as he sat his destrier made it obvious that he was waiting for her.

Trust Yourself Linden's heart thudded as Stave said quietly. "Chosen," warning her.

What seek, lady, is to possess your instruments of power.p> seek, lady, is to possess your instruments of power.p> A moment later, she felt a surge of alarm from Liand. "Heaven and Earth," he breathed. "He is here? Does he dare to meditate harm in Andelain?"

What I will have, however, is your companionship.

Under his breath, Mahrtiir muttered Ramen curses.

"Mayhap he does not," suggested Stave. "The Wraiths have permitted him."

The Harrow could unmake Demondim-sp.a.w.n with a gesture; an incantation. Did he have the same kind of power over the Wraiths?

Linden shook her head. No. The ur-viles and Waynhim were unnatural creatures. I have made a considerable study of such beings. But the Wraiths were avatars of Earthpower: they flourished among Andelain's organic largesse. The Harrow's ability to destroy artificial life did not imply a comparable threat to the Wraiths.

They had accepted his presence as they had accepted Linden's.

I am able to convey you to your son.

The sight of him transformed her certainty to confusion.

Gritting his teeth, Mahrtiir answered the surprise of the Swordmainnir. Two nights ago, Linden had told them about the Harrow. Now Mahrtiir identified the figure, dun with dusk, on the south bank of the Soulsease. Grimly he repeated what he knew of the ornately caped and clad Insequent.

While the Manethrall spoke, Liand nudged Rhohm to Hyn's side. "Linden," he whispered urgently, "what will you do? He covets both your Staff and the white gold ring. Yet he has forsworn coercion." The Mandoubt had given up her life to wrest that oath from the Harrow. "And he claims that he can bear you to your son.

"If his word holds, how will he gain his desires? Will you bargain with him to gain pa.s.sage to your son'?"