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White Gold Wielder Part 24

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Under her breath. Linden murmured, "I understand. You think it all depends on you. Why should people as good as they are have to suffer and maybe get killed for it? And I'm so scared*" Her face was pale and drawn and urgent. "But you have got to stop trying to make other people's decisions for them."

He did not reply. Keeping his attention fixed on the open tunnel under the watchtower, he forced his power-clogged muscles to bear him steadily upward. But now he feared that he was already defeated. He had too much to lose. His friends were accompanying him into his nightmares as if he were worthy of them. Because he had to do something, no matter how insufficient or useless it might be, he moved closer to Call and whispered, "This is enough. Banner said you'd serve me. Brinn told you to take his place. But I don't need this kind of service anymore. I'm too far gone. What I need is hope."

"Ur-Lord?" the Haruchai responded softly.

"The Land needs a future. Even if I win. The Giants'11 go Home. You'll go about your business. But if anything happens to Sunder or Hollian*" The idea appalled him. "I want you to take care of them. All of you. No matter what." He was prepared to endanger even Linden for this. "The Land has got to have a future."

"We hear you." Cail's tone did not betray whether he was relieved, moved, or offended. "If the need arises, we will remember your words."



With that Covenant had to be content, 226 Nom had moved somewhat ahead of him, thrusting toward the great Keep as if it triggered a racial memory of the Sandwall which the Bhrathair had raised to oppose the Sandgorgons in the years before Kasreyn had bound them to their Doom. The beast's arms swung in antic.i.p.ation. Grimly, Covenant quickened his pace.

In that way, with Linden beside him. two Stonedownors and four Giants behind him, and eleven Haruchai nearby, (185 of 399) [1/19/03 11:38:42 PM]

Thomas Covenant went to pit himself against the Clave and the Banefire.

There was no reaction from Revelstone. Perhaps the na-Mhoram did not know what a Sandgorgon was, wanted to see what it would do before he attempted to provoke Covenant again. Or perhaps he had given up provocation in order to prepare his defenses. Perhaps the Raver had found a small worm of fear at the bottom of his malice. Covenant liked that idea. What the Clave and the Banefire had done to the Land could not be forgiven. The way in which this Raver had transformed to ill the ancient and honorable Council of Lords could not be forgiven. And for Gibbon's attack on Linden, Covenant would accept no atonement except the cleansing of the Keep.

Those who hold the Earth in their hands have no justification for vengeance.

Like h.e.l.l, Covenant gritted. Like h.e.l.l they don't.

But when he reached the base of the watchtower, he commanded Nom to halt and paused to consider the tunnel. The sun was high enough now to make the inner courtyard bright; but that only deepened the obscurity of the pa.s.sage.

The windows of the tower gaped as if the rooms behind them were abandoned. A silence like the cryptic stillness of the dead hung over the city. There was no wind*no sign of life except the stark hot shaft of the Banefire. Between the two slain Coursers, dead wasps littered the ground. The Riders had taken their own fallen with them for the sake of the blood. But red splotches marked the rocks in front of the tower as if to tell Covenant that he had come to the right place.

He turned to Linden. Her taut pallor frightened him, but he could no longer afford to spare her. "The tower," he said as the company stopped behind him. "I need to know if it's empty."

227 The movement of her head as she looked upward seemed fatally slow, as if her old paralysis had its hand on her again.

The last time she was here, Gibbon's touch had reduced her to near catatonia. The princ.i.p.al doom of the Land is upon your shoulders. Through eyes and ears and touch, you are made to be what the Despiser requires. Once she had pleaded with Covenant, You've got to get me out of here. Before they make me kill you.

But she did not plead now or seek to shirk the consequences of her choices. Her voice sounded dull and stunned; yet she accepted Covenant's demands. "It's hard," she murmured.

"Hard to see past the Banefire. It wants me*wants to throw me at the sun. Throw me at the sun forever." Fear glazed her eyes as if that cast had already begun. "It's hard to see anything else." However, a moment later she frowned. Her gaze sharpened. "But Gibbon isn't there. Not there. He's still in the main Keep. And I don't feel anything else." When she looked at Covenant again, she appeared as severe as she had at their first meeting. "I don't think they've ever used the (186 of 399) [1/19/03 11:38:42 PM]

tower."

A surge of relief started up in Covenant, but he fought it down. He could not afford that either. It blunted his control, let hints of blackness leak through his mind. Striving to match her, he muttered, "Then let's go.^ With Nom and Linden, Call and Pole, he walked into the tunnel; and his companions followed him like echoes.

As he traversed the pa.s.sage, be instinctively hunched his shoulders, bracing himself against the attack he still expected from the ceiling of the tunnel. But no attack came. Linden had read the tower accurately. Soon he stood in the courtyard.

The sun shone before him on the high, b.u.t.tressed face of the Keep and on the ma.s.sive inner gates.

Those stone slabs were notched and beveled and balanced so that they could open outward smoothly and marry exactly when they closed. They were heavy enough to rebuff any force of which their makers had been able to conceive.

And they were shut, interlocking with each other like teeth.

The lines where they hinged and met were barely distinguishable.

"I have said it," the First breathed behind Covenant. "The Unhomed wrought surpa.s.singly well in this place."

She was right; the gates looked ready to stand forever.

22S Suddenly, Covenant became urgent for haste. If he did not find an answer soon. he would go up like tinder and oil. The sun had not yet reached midmoming; and the shaft of the Banefire stood poised above him like a scythe t.i.tanic and b.l.o.o.d.y enough to reap all the life of the world. Sunder's hands clutched the krill and his orcrest, holding them ready; but he looked strangely daunted by the great Keep, by what it meant and contained. For the first time in the ordeal of the Search, Pitchwife seemed vulnerable to panic, capable of flight. Linden's skin was the color of ashes. But Honninscrave held his fists clinched at his sides as if he knew he was close to the reasons for Seadreamer's death and did not mean to wait for them much longer.

Covenant groaned to himself. He should have begun his attack last night, while most of his friends slept. He was sick of guilt.

With a fervid sweep of his arm, he sent Nom at the gates.

The Sandgorgon seemed to understand instinctively. In three strides, it reached full speed.

Hurtling forward like a juggernaut, it crashed headlong against the juncture of the clenched slabs.

The impact boomed across the courtyard, thudded in Covenant's lungs, rebounded like a cannonade from the tower.

The stones underfoot shivered; a vibration like a wail ran through the abutments. The spot Nom struck was crushed and dented as if it were formed of wood.

(187 of 399) [1/19/03 11:38:42 PM]

But the gates stood.

The beast stepped back as if it were astonished. It turned its head like a question toward Covenant But an instant later it rose up in the native savagery of all Sandgorgons and began to beat at the gates with the staggering might of its arms.

Slowly at first, then more and more rapidly, the beast struck, one sledgehammer arm and then the other in accelerating sequence, harder and faster, harder and faster, until the courtyard was full of thunder and the stone yowled distress. Covenant was responsible for that*and still the gates held, bore the battery. Chips and splinters spat in all directions; granite teeth screamed against each other; the flagstones of the court seemed to ripple and dance. Still the gates held.

To herself, Linden whimpered as if she could feel every blow in her frangible bones.

Covenant started to shout for Nom to stop. He did not un- 229 derstand what the Sandgorgon was doing. The sight of such an attack would have rent Mhoram's heart But an instant later he heard the rhythm of Norn's blows more clearly, heard how that pulse meshed with the gutrock's protesting retorts and cries; and he understood. The Sandgorgon had set up a resonance in the gates, and each impact increased the frequency and amplitude of the vibrations. If the beast did not falter, the slabs might be driven to tear themselves apart.

Abruptly, red fire poured down off the abutment immediately above the gates. Riders appeared brandishing their rukhs: four or five of them. Wielding the Banefire together, they were more mighty than an equal number of individuals; and they shaped a concerted blast to thrust Nom back from the gates.

But Covenant was ready for them. He had been expecting something like this, and his power was hungry for utterance, for any release that would ease the strain within him. Meticulous with desperation, he put out wild magic to defend the Sandgorgon.

His force was a sickening mixture of blackness and argence, mottled and leprous. But it was force nonetheless, fire capable of riving the heavens. It covered the Riders, melted their rukhs to slag, then pitched them back into the Keep with their robes aflame.

Nom went on hammering at the gates in a transport of destructive ecstasy as if it had finally met an obstacle worthy of it.

Honninscrave quivered to hurl himself forward; but the First restrained him-He obeyed her like a man who would soon be beyond reach of any command.

(188 of 399) [1/19/03 11:38:42 PM]

Then Nom struck a final blow*struck so swiftly that Covenant did not see how the blow was delivered. He saw only the small still fraction of time as the gates pa.s.sed from endurance to rupture. They stood*and the change came upon them like the last inward suck of air before the blast of a hurricane*

and then they were gone, ripped apart in a wrench of detonation with fragments whining like agony in all directions and stone-powder billowing so thickly that Nom disappeared and the broken mouth of Revelstone was obscured.

Slowly, the high, wide portal became visible through the dust. It was large enough for Coursers, suitable for Giants, 230.

But the Sandgorgon did not reappear. Covenant's stunned ears were unable to pick out the slap of Norn's feet as the beast charged alone into the stone city.

"Oh my G.o.d," Linden muttered over and over again, "oh my G.o.d." Pitchwife breathed, "Stone and Sea!" as if he had never seen a Sandgorgon at work before. Hollian's eyes were full of fear. But Sunder had been taught violence and killing by the Clave, had never learned to love Revelstone: his face was bright with eagerness.

Half deafened by the pain of the stone. Covenant entered the Keep because now he had no choice left but to go forward or die. And he did not know what Nom would do to the city.

At a wooden run, he crossed the courtyard and pa.s.sed through the dust into Revelstone as if he were casting the die of his fate.

Instantly, his companions arranged themselves for battle and followed him. He was only one stride ahead of Call, two ahead of the First, Linden, and Honninscrave, as he broached the huge forehall of the na-Mhoram's Keep.

It was as dark as a pit.

He knew that hall; it was the size of a cavern. It had been formed by Giants to provide a mustering-s.p.a.ce for the forces of the former Lords. But the sun angled only a short distance into the broken entrance; and some trick of the high stone seemed to absorb the light; and there was no other illumination.

Too late, he understood that the forehall had been prepared to meet him.

With a crash, heavy wooden barriers slammed shut across the entryway. Sudden midnight echoed around the company.

Instinctively, Covenant started to release a blaze from his ring. Then he yanked it back. His fire was entirely black now, as corrupt as poison. It shed no more light than the scream that swelled against his self-control, threatening to tear his throat and split Revelstone asunder.

For an instant like a seizure, no one moved or spoke. The (189 of 399) [1/19/03 11:38:42 PM]

things they could not see seemed to paralyze even the First and the Haruchai. Then Linden panted, "Sunder." Her voice shook wildly; she sounded like a madwoman. "Use the krill.

Use it now."

Covenant tried to swing toward her. What is it? What do The Bane/we 231 you see? But his imprecise ears missed her position in the dark.

He was peering straight at Sunder when the krill sent a peal of vivid white ringing across the cavern.

He had no defense as Hollian's shrill cry echoed after the light: 'The na-Mhoram's Grim!"

Argent dazzled him. The Grim He could not think or see.

Such a sending had attacked the company once before; and under an open sky it had killed Memla na-Mhoram-in, had neariy slain Linden and Call. In the enclosed s.p.a.ce of the forehall*

And it would damage Revelstone severely. He had seen the remains of a village which had fallen under the Grim: During Stonedown, Bamako's birthplace. The acid force of the na-Mhoram's curse had eaten the entire habitation to rubble.

Covenant wheeled to face the peril; but still he could not see. His companions scrambled around him. For one mad instant, he believed they were fleeing. But then Cail took hold of his arm, ignoring the pain of suppressed fire; and he heard the First's stern voice. "Mistweave, we must have more light.

Chosen, instruct us. How may this force be combatted?"

From somewhere beyond his blindness, Covenant heard Linden reply, "Not with your sword." The ague in her voice blurred the words; she had to fighf-to make them comprehensible. "We've got to quench it. Or give it something else to b.u.m."

Covenant's vision cleared in time to see the black hot thunderhead of the Grim rolling toward the company just below the cavern's ceiling.

Confined by the forehall, it appeared monstrously powerful.

Nom was nowhere to be seen; but Covenant's knees felt vibrations through the floor as if the Sandgorgon were attacking the Keep's inner chambers. Or as if Revelstone itself feared what Gibbon had unleashed.

From the entryway came the noise of belabored wood as Mistweave sought to break down the barrier which sealed the hall. But it had been fashioned with all the stoutness the Clave could devise. It creaked and cracked at Mistweave's blows, but did not break.

When the boiling thunderhead was directly over the com- 232 (190 of 399) [1/19/03 11:38:42 PM]

pany, it shattered with a tremendous and silent concussion that would have flattened Covenant if Call had not upheld him.

In that instant, the Grim became stark black flakes that floated murderously downward, bitter as chips of stone and corrosive as vitriol. The thick Grim-fall spanned the company.

Covenant wanted to raise fire to defend his friends. He believed he had no choice; venom and fear urged him to believe he had no choice. But he knew with a terrible certainty that if he unleashed the wild magic now he might never be able to call it back. All his other desperate needs would be lost Loathing himself, he watched and did nothing as the dire flakes settled toward him and the people he loved.

Fole and another Haruchai impelled Linden to the nearest wall, as far as possible from the center of the Grim-fall. Ham tugged at Hollian, but she refused to leave Sunder. Call was ready to dodge*ready to carry Covenant if necessary. The First and Honninscrave braced themselves to pit their Giantish immunity to fire against the flakes. Findail had disappeared as if he could sense Covenant's restraint and cared about nothing else.

Glaring in the knIl-Ught, the flakes wafted slowly downward.

And Sunder stood to meet them.

From his orcrest he drew a red shaft of Sunbane-fire and started burning the black bits out of the air.

His beam consumed every flake it touched. With astonishing courage or abandon, he faced the entire Grim himself.

But the bits were falling by the thousands. They were too much for him. He could not even clear the air above his own head to protect himself and Hollian.

Then Pitchwife Joined him. Incongruously crippled and valiant, the Giant also attacked the Grim, using as his only weapon the pouches of vitrim he had borne with him from Hamako's rhyshyshim. One after another, he emptied them by spraying vitrim at the flakes.

Each flake the liquid touched became ash and drifted harm- lessly away.

His visage wore a grimace of grief at the loss of his carefully-h.o.a.rded Waynhim roborant; but while it lasted he used it with deliberate extravagance.

Honninscrave slapped at the first flake which neared his 233 head, then gave an involuntary cry as the black corrosive ate into his palm. The Grim had been conceived to destroy stone, and no mortal flesh was proof against it.

Around Covenant, the cavern started to reel. The irreconcilable desperation of his plight was driving him mad.

(191 of 399) [1/19/03 11:38:42 PM]

But at that instant a huge splintering crashed through the air; and the wooden barricade went down under Mistweave's attack. More light washed into the forehall, improving the ability of the Haruchai to dodge the Grim. And wood followed the light Fiercely, Mistweave tore the barrier beam from timber and flung the pieces toward the company.

Haruchai intercepted the smaller fragments, used them as cudgels to batter Grim-flakes from the air. But the First, Honninscrave, and then Pitchwife s.n.a.t.c.hed up the main timbers.

At once, wood whirled around the company. The First swung a beam as tall as herself as if it were a flail. Honninscrave swept flakes away from Sunder and Hollian. Pitchwife pounced to Linden's defense with an enormous club in each fist.

The Grim destroyed the wood almost instantly. Each flake tore the weapon which touched it to charcoal. But the broken barricade had been huge; and Mistweave attacked it with the fury of a demon, sending a constant rush of fragments skidding across the floor to the hands of the company.

Honninscrave took another flake on Bis shoulder and nearly screamed; yet he went on fighting as if he were back in the cave of the One Tree and still had a chance to save his brother.

Three of the Haruchai threw Linden from place to place like a child. In that way they were able to keep her out of the path of the Grim-fall more effectively than if one of them had tried to carry her. But their own movements were hampered.

Two of them had already suffered b.u.ms; and as Covenant watched, a black bit seemed to shatter Pole's left leg. He balanced himself on his right as if pain had no meaning and caught Linden when she was tossed to him.

Around the cavern, flakes began to strike the floor and det- onate, ripping holes the size of Giant-hands in the smooth stone. Acrid smoke intensified the air as if the granite were smoldering.

Dun-is, Ham, and two more Haruchai whipped brands and staves around the Stonedownors. Sunder lashed a frenzy of 234 red power at the Grim. The First and Hoiminscrave labored like berserkers, spending wood as rapidly as Mistweave fed it to them. Pitchwife followed his wife's example, protected her back with boards and timbers. He still had one pouch of vitrim left.

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White Gold Wielder Part 24 summary

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