White Gold Wielder Part 30

Linden nodded. She would have been content to spend a few days resting in Revelstone; but she was willing to do whatever be wanted. And she would, be able to enjoy her scrubbed skin and clean hair better in the Keep, protected from the Sunbane. She took bis band, and together they climbed out of the basin of the tarn.

From the hilltop, they heard the flute more accurately. It sounded like its music had been warped by the desert sun.

The plains beyond the plateau looked flat and ruined to the horizons, all life hammered out of them; nothing green or bearable lifted its head from the upland dirt. Yet Glimmermere's water and the shape of the hills seemed to insist that life was still possible here, that in some stubborn way the ground was not entirely wasted.

However, the lower plains gave no such impression. Most of the river evaporated before it reached the bottom of Furl Falls; the rest disappeared within a stone's throw of the cliff.

The sun flamed down at Linden as if it were calling her to itself. Before they reached the flat wedge of the plateau which 284 contained Revelstone, she knew that her determination to stand by him would not prove easy. In the bottom of her heart lurked a black desire for the power to master the Sunbane, make it serve her. Every moment of the sun's touch reminded her that she was still vulnerable to desecration.

But by the time they rejoined Cail at the city's entrance, they could hear that the fluting came from the tip of the promontory overlooking the watchtower. By mute agreement, they walked on down the wedge; and at the Keep's apex they found Pitchwife. He sat with his legs over the edge, facing eastward. The deformation of his spine bent him forward.

He appeared to be leaning toward a fall.

His huge hands held a flute to his mouth as if he were wrestling with it*as if he thought that by sheer obstinate effort he would be able to wring a dirge from the tiny instrument.

At their approach, he lowered the flute to his lap, gave them a wan smile of habit rather than conviction. "Earth- (231 of 399) [1/19/03 11:38:43 PM]

friend," he said; and his voice sounded as frayed and uncertain as the notes he had been playing. "It boons me to behold you again and whole. The Chosen has proven and reproven her worth for all to see*and yet has survived to bring her beauty like gladness before me." He did not glance at Linden. "But I had thought that you were gone from us altogether."

Then his moist gaze wandered back to the dry, dead terrain below him. "Pardon me that I have feared for you.

Fear is born in doubt, and you have not merited my doubt."

With an awkward movement, like suppressed violence, he indicated the flute. "The fault is mine. I caa find no music in this instrument."

Instinctively, Linden went to stand behind the Giant, placed her hands on his shoulders. In spite of his sitting posture and crooked back, his shoulders were only a little below hers; and his muscles were so oaken that she could hardly ma.s.sage them. Yet she rubbed at his distress because she did not know how else to comfort him.

"Everybody doubts," Covenant breathed. He did not go near the Giant. He remained rigidly where he was, holding his vertigo back from the precipice. But his voice reached out through the sun's arid heat. "We're all scared. You have the right." Then his tone changed as if he were remembering 285 what Pitchwife had undergone. Softly, he asked, "What can I do for you?"

Pitchwife's muscles knotted under Linden's hands. After a moment, he said simply, "Earthfriend, I desire a better outcome."

At once, he added, "Do not mistake me. That which has been done here has been well done. Mortal though you are, Earthfriend and Chosen, you surpa.s.s all estimation." He let out a quiet sigh. "But I am not content. I have shed such blood* The lives of the innocent I have taken from them by the score, though I am no Swordmain and loathe such work.

And as I did so, my doubt was terrible to me. It is a dire thing to commit butchery when hope has been consumed by fear. As you have said. Chosen, there must be a reason. The world's grief should unite those who live, not sunder them in slaughter and malice.

"My friends, there is a great need in my heart for song, but no song comes. I am a Giant. Often have I vaunted myself in music. 'We are Giants, born to sail, and bold to go wherever dreaming goes.' But such songs have become folly and arrogance to me. In the face of doom, I have not the courage of my dreams. Ah, my heart must have song. I find no music in it.

"I desire a better outcome." .

His voice trailed away over the diff-edge and was gone.

Linden felt the ache in him as if she had wrapped her arms (232 of 399) [1/19/03 11:38:43 PM]

around it. She wanted to protest the way he seemed to blame himself; yet she sensed that his need went deeper than blame. He had tasted the Despiser's malice and was appalled.

She understood that. But she had no answer to it.

Covenant was more certain. He sounded as strict as a vow as he asked, "What're you going to do?"

Pitchwife responded with a shrug that shifted Linden's hands from his shoulders. He did not look away from the dest.i.tution sprawling below him. "The First has spoken of this," he said distantly. The thought of his wife gave him no ease. "We will accompany you to the end. The Search requires no less of us. But when you have made your purpose known, Mistweave will bear word of it to Seareach. There Starfare's Gem will come if the ice and the seas permit. Should you fail, and those with you fall, the Search must yet continue.

The knowledge which Mistweave will bear to Seareach will 286.

White Gold Wielder enable Sevinhand Anchormaster to choose the path of bis service."

Linden looked at Covenant sharply to keep him from saying that if he failed there would be no Earth left for the Search to serve. Perhaps the journey the First had conceived for Mistweave was pointless; still Linden coveted it for him.

It was clear and specific, and it might help him find his way back to himself. Also she approved the First's insistence on behaving as if hope would always endure.

But she saw at once that Covenant had no intention of denying the possibility of hope. No bitterness showed beyond his empathy for Pitchwife; his alloyed despair and determination were clean of gall. Nor did he suggest that Pitchwife and the First should Join Mistweave. Instead, he said as if he were content, "That's good. Meet us in the forehall at noon, and we'll get started."

Then he met Linden's gaze. "I want to go look at Honninscrave's grave." His tone thickened momentarily. "Say good-bye to him. Will you come with me?"

In response, she went to him and hugged him so that he would understand her silence.

Together they left Pitchwife sitting on the rim of the city.

As they neared the entrance to Revelstone, they heard the cry of his flute again. It sounded as lorn as the call of a kestrel against the dust-trammeled sky.

Gratefully, Linden entered the great Keep, where she was shielded from the desert sun. Relief filled her nerves as she and Covenant moved down into the depths of Revelstone, back to the Hall of Gifts.

Call accompanied them. Beneath his impa.s.sivity she sensed a strange irresolution, as if he wanted to ask a question or boon and did not believe he had the right. But when they reached their goal, she forgot his unexplained emanations.

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During Covenant's battle with Gibbon, and the rending of the Raver, she had taken scant notice of the cavern itself.

All her attention had been focused on what was happening ^and on the blackness which Gibbon had called up in her.

As a result, she had not registered the extent to which the Hall and its contents had been damaged. But she saw the havoc now, felt its impact.

Those Who Part 287.

Around the walls, behind the columns, in the corners and distant reaches, much of the Land's ancient artwork remained intact. But the center of the cavern was a shambles. Tapestries had been cindered, sculptures split, paintings shredded. Cracks marked two of the columns from crown to pediment; hunks of stone had been ripped from the ceiling, the floor; the mosaic on which Gibbon had stood was a ruin. Centuries of human effort and aspiration were wrecked by the uncon-tainable forces Covenant and the Raver had unleashed.

For a moment. Covenant's gaze appeared as ravaged as the Hall. No amount of certainty could heal the consequences of what he had done*and had failed to do.

While she stood there, caught between his pain and the Hall's hurt. she did not immediately recognize that most of the breakage had already been cleared away. But then she saw Nom at work, realized what the Sandgorgon was doing.

It was collecting pieces of rock, splinters of sculpture, shards of pottery, any debris it was able to lift between the stumps of bis forearms, and it was using those fragments meticulously to raise a caim for Honninscrave.

The funerary pile was already taller than Linden; but Nom was not yet satisfied with it. With swift care, the beast continued adding broken art to the mound. The rubble was too crude to have any particular shap. Nevertheless Nom moved around and around it to build it up as if it were an icon of the distant gyre of Sandgorgons Doom.

This was Norn's homage to the Giant who had enabled it to rend Gibbon-Raver. Honninscrave had contained and controlled samadhi Sheol so that the Raver could not possess Nom, not take advantage of Norn's purpose and power. In that way, he had made it possible for Nom to become something new, a Sandgorgon of active miad and knowledge and volition. With this cairn, Nom acknowledged the Master's sacrifice as if it had been a gift.

The sight softened Covenant's pain. Remembering Hergrom and Ceer, Linden would not have believed that she might ever feel anything akin to grat.i.tude toward a Sandgorgon.

But she had no other name for what she felt as she watched Nom work.

Though it lacked ordinary sight or hearing, the beast appeared to be aware of its onlookers. But it did not stop until (234 of 399) [1/19/03 11:38:43 PM]

288.

White Gold Wielder it had augmented Honninscrave's mound with the last rubble large enough for its arms to lift. Then, however, it turned abruptly and strode toward Covenant.

A few paces in front of him, it stopped. With its back-bent knees, it lowered itself to the floor, touched its forehead to the stone.

He was abashed by the beast's obeisance. "Get up," he muttered. "Get up. You've earned better than this." But Nom remained prostrate before him as if it deemed him worthy of worship.

Unexpectedly, Cail spoke for the Sandgorgon. He had recovered his Haruchai capacity for unsurprise. He reported the beast's thoughts as if he were accustomed to them.

"Norn desires you to comprehend that it acknowledges you.

It will obey any command. But it asks that you do not command it. It wishes to be free. It wishes to return to its home in the Great Desert and its bound kindred. From the rending of the Raver, Nom has gained knowledge to unmake Sandgorgons Doom*to release its kind from pent fury and anguish. It seeks your permission to depart"

Linden felt that she was smiling foolishly; but she could not stop herself. Fearsome though the Sandgorgons were, she had hated the idea of their plight from the moment when Pitchwife had told her about it. "Let it go," she murmured to Covenant. "Kasreyn had no right to trap them like that in the first place."

He nodded slowly, debating with himself. Then he made his decision. Facing the Sandgorgon, he said to Cail, "Tell it, it can go. I understand it's willing to obey me, and I say it can go. It's free. But," he added sharply, "I want it to leave the Bhrathair alone. Those people have the right to live, too.

And G.o.d knows I've already done them enough damage. I don't want them to suffer any more because of me."

Faceless, devoid of expression, the albino beast raised itself erect again. "Nom hears you," Cail replied. To Linden's percipience, his tone seemed to hint that he envied Norn's freedom. "It will obey. Its folk it will teach obedience also.

The Great Desert is wide, and the Bhrathair will be spared."

Before he finished, the Sandgorgon burst into a run toward the doorway of the Hall. Eager for its future, it vanished up the stairs, speeding in the direction of the open sky. For a few moments. Linden felt its wide feet on the steps; their 289 force seemed to make the stone Keep jangle. But then Nom pa.s.sed beyond her range, and she turned from it as if it were a healed memory*as if in some unexpected way the deaths of Hergrom and Ceer and Honninscrave had been made bearable at last.

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She was still smiling when Covenant addressed Cail. "We've got some time before noon." He strove to sound casual; but the embers in his eyes were alight for her. "Why don't you find us something to eat? We'll be in Mhoram's room."

Call nodded and left at once, moving with swift unhaste.

His manner convinced Linden that she was reading him accurately: something had changed for him. He seemed willing, almost eager, to be apart from the man he had promised to protect.

But she had no immediate desire to question the Haruchai.

Covenant had put his arm around her waist, and time was precious. Her wants would have appeared selfish to her if he had not shared them.

However, when they reached the court with the bright silver floor and the cracked stone, they found Sunder and Hollian waiting for them.

The Stonedownors had rested since Linden had last seen them, and they looked better for it. Sunder was no longer slack-kneed and febrile with exhaustion. Hollian had regained much of her young clarity. They greeted Covenant and Linden shyly, as if they were uncertain how far the Unbeliever and the Chosen had transcended them. But behind their shared mood, their differences were palpable to Linden-Unlike Sunder's former life, Hollian's had been one of acceptance rather than sacrifice. The delicate scars which laced her right palm were similar to the pale pain-lattice on his left forearm, but she had never taken anyone else's blood.

Yet since that time her role had been primarily one of support, aiding Sunder when he had first attuned himself to Memla's rukh during the company's journey toward Seareach as well as in his later use of the krill. It was he, guilt-sore and vehement, who hated the Clave, fought it*and had been vindicated. He had struck necessary blows on behalf of the Land, showing himself a fit companion for Giants and Haruchai, Covenant and Linden. Now he bore himself with a new confidence; and the silver light seemed to shine 290.

White Gold Wielder bravely in his eyes, as though he knew that his father would have been proud of him.

HoIIian herself was proud of him. Her open gaze and gentle smile showed that she regretted nothing. The child she carried was a Joy to her. Yet Linden saw something plainly unfinished in the en-Brand. Her emanations were now more complex than Sunder's. She looked like a woman who knew that she had not yet been tested. And she wanted that test, wanted to find the destiny which she wore about her like the raven-wings of her l.u.s.trous hair. She was an eh-Brand, rare in the Land. She wished to learn what such rareness meant.

Covenant gave Linden a glance of wry rue; but he accepted the untimely presence of the Stonedownors without protest They were his friends, and his surety included them.

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In response to Covenant's greeting, Sunder said with abrupt awkwardness, "Thomas Covenant, what is your purpose now?"

His recent accomplishments had not given him an easy manner. "Forgive us that we intrude upon you. Your need for rest is plain." His regard told Linden that her fatigue was more obvious than Covenant's. "Should you elect to remain here for any number of days, the choice would become you.

In times past"*his scowl was a mix of self-mockery and regret*"I have questioned you, accusing you of every madness and all pain." Covenant made a gesture of dismissal; but Sunder hastened to continue, "I do not question you now.

You are the Earthfriend, IIIender and Prover of Life*and my friend. My doubt is gone.

"Yet," he went on at once, "we have considered the Sunbane. The eh-Brand foretells its course. With Sunstone and krill, 1 have felt its power. The quenching of Banefire and Clave is a great work*but the Sunbane is not diminished.

The morrow's sun will be a sun of pestilence. It reigns still upon the Land, and its evil is clear."

His voice gathered strength and determination as he spoke.

"Thomas Covenant, you have taught me the falsehood of the Clave. I had believed the Land a gallow-fells, a punishing place conceived by a harsh Master. But I have learned that we are born for beauty rather than ill*that it is the Sunbane which is evil, not the life which the Sunbane torments." His gaze glinted keenly. "Therefore I find that I am not content The true battle is yet before us." He was not as tall as Cove- 291 nant; but he was broader and more muscular. He looked as solid as the stone of his home. "Thus I ask, what is your purpose now?"

The question distressed Covenant. His certainty could not protect him from his own empathy. He concealed his pain; but Linden saw it with her health-sense, heard it in the gruffness of his reply. "You're not content,' he muttered.

"n.o.body's content. Well, you ought to be." Beneath the surface, he was as taut as a fraying bowstring. "You've done enough. You can leave the Sunbane to me*to me and Linden. I want you to stay here."

"Stay*?" The Graveler was momentarily too surprised to understand. "Do you mean to depart from us?" Hollian placed a hand on his arm, not to restrain him, but to add her concern to his.

"Yes!" Covenant snapped more strongly than necessary.

But at once he steadied himself. "Yes. That's what I want.

You're the future of the Land. There's n.o.body else. The people the Clave let live are all too old or sick to do much, or too young to understand. You two are the only ones left who know what's happened, what it means. What the life of the Land should be like. If anything happens to you, most of the survivors won't even know theJCIave was wrong. They'll go on believing those lies because there won't be anybody (237 of 399) [1/19/03 11:38:43 PM]

around to contradict them. I need you to tell them the truth.

I can't risk you."

Linden thought he would say, Please. Please. But Sunder's indignation was vivid in the sharp light. "Risk, ur-Lord?" he rasped as soon as Covenant stopped. "Is it risk you fear? Or do you deem us unworthy to partake of your high purpose?

Do you forget who we are?" His hand gripped at the krill wrapped and hidden within his jerkin. "Your world is other- where, and to it you will return when your task is done. But we are the Land. We are the life which remains. We will not sit in safety while the outcome of that life is determined!"

Covenant stood still under Sunder's outburst; but the small muscles around his eyes flinched as if he wanted to shout, What's the matter with you? We're going to face Lord Foull I'm trying to spare you! Yet his quietness held.

"You're right," he said softly*more softly than Linden's desire to defend him. "You are the life of the Land. And ^ I've already taken everything else away from you. Your 292.

White Gold Wielder homes, your families, your ident.i.ties*I've spent them all and let you bear the cost. Don't you understand? I want to give something back. I want you to have a future." The one thing he and Linden did not possess. "So your son will have at least that much chance to be born and grow up healthy." The pa.s.sion underlying his tone reminded her that he had a son whom he had not seen for eleven years. He might have been crying, Let me do this for you! "Is safety such a terrible price to pay?"

Hollian appeared to waver, persuaded by Covenant's unmistakable concern. But Sunder did not. His anger was swept out of him; his resolution remained. Thickly, he said, "Pardon my unseemly ire. Thomas Covenant, you are my friend in all ways. Will you grant to me your white ring, that I may ward you from the extremity of the Land's plight?" He did not need to wait for Covenant's answer. "Neither will I cede to you the meaning of my life. You have taught me to value that meaning too highly."

Abruptly, he dropped his gaze. "If it is her wish, Hollian will abide here. The son she bears is ours together, but that choice must be hers." Then his eyes fixed Covenant squarely again. "I will not part from you until I am content."