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White Gold Wielder Part 5

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Covenant's head jerked up. For an instant, he gaped incomprehension at the cook. Then he rapped out, "Fill it!" and clamped his mouth back over Linden's.

A m.u.f.fled thunder of water poured into the huge stone pot.

Wind shrieked in the hawseholes, plucked juddering ululations from the shrouds. Around Covenant, the galley began to spin.

Head up: inhale. Head down: exhale. He had no way to keep his balance except with fire. In another moment, he was go- (40 of 399) [1/19/03 11:38:41 PM]

ing to erupt or lose consciousness, he did not know which.



Then Seasauce said, "It is ready." Pitchwifc touched Covenant's shoulder. Scooping his arms under Linden, Covenant tried to unknot his cramped muscles, stand erect.

Starfare's Gem brunted through the crest of a wave and dove for the trough. Unable to steady himself, be pitched headlong toward the wall.

Hands caught him. Mistweave held him while Pitchwife pulled Linden from his embrace.

He was giddy and irresistible with fire. He jerked away from Mistweave, followed Pitchwife toward the stove on which sat the oblong stewpot. The floor seemed to yaw viciously, but he kept moving.

The stovetop was as high as his chin. He could see nothing of Linden past the pot's rim except a crown of hair as Seasauce held her head above water. But he no longer needed to see her. Pressing his forehead against the base of the stewpot, he spread his arms as far as possible along its sides. The guts of the stove were aflame; but that heat would take too long to warm so much stone and water. Closing his eyes against the ghoul-whirl of his vertigo, he let wild magic pour down his arms.

This he could do safely. He had learned enough control to keep his power from tearing havoc through the galley. And Linden was buffered from his imprecise touch. With white pa.s.sion he girdled the pot. Then he narrowed his mind until nothing else impinged upon it and let the fire flow.

In that way, he turned his back on silence and numbness.

For a time, he was conscious only of the current of his power, squeezing heat into the stone but not breaking it, not tearing the fragile granite into rubble. Then suddenly he realized that he could hear Linden coughing. He looked up. She 55 was invisible to him, hidden by the sides of the pot and the steam pluming thickly into the air. But she was coughing, clearing her lungs more strongly with every spasm. And a moment later one of her hands came out of the vapor to clutch at the Up of the pot.

"It is enough," Pitchwife was saying. "Giantfriend, it is enough. More heat will harm her."

Covenant nodded dumbly. With a deliberate effort, he released his power.

At once, he recoiled, struck by the vertigo and fear he had been holding at bay. But Pitchwife put an arm around him, kept him on his feet. As tile spinning slowed, he was able to watch Seasauce lift Linden dripping from the water. She still looked as pallid and frail as a battered child; but her eyes were open, and her limbs reacted to the people around her. When Mistweave took her from the cook, she instinctively hugged his neck while he wrapped her in a blanket. Then Cail offered (41 of 399) [1/19/03 11:38:41 PM]

her Pitchwife's flask of diamondraught. Still shivering fiercely, she pulled the flask to her mouth. Gradually, two faint spots of color appeared on her cheeks.

Covenant turned away and hid his face against Pitchwife's malformed chest until his relief eased enough to be borne.

For a few moments while the diamondraught spread out within her. Linden remained conscious. Though she was so weak that she tottered, she got down 'from Mistweave's arms.

With the blanket swaddled around her, she stripped off her wet clothing. Then her gaze hunted for Covenant's.

He met it as bravely as he could.

"Why*?" she asked huskily. Her voice quivered. 'Wny couldn't we help them?" 'Wny couldn't we help them?"

"It was the Soulbiter." Her question made his eyes blur.

Her heart was still torn by what she had seen, "They were illusions. We were d.a.m.ned if we refused to help. Because of how we would've felt about ourselves. And d.a.m.ned if we tried. If we brought one of those things aboard." The Soulbiter, he thought as he strove to clear his vision. It was aptly named. "The only way out was to break the illusion."

She nodded faintly. She was fading into the embrace of the diamondraught. "It was like watching my parents." Her eyes closed. "If they were as brave as I wanted them to be." Her voice trailed toward silence. "If I let myself love them."

Then her knees folded. Mistweave lowered her gently to 56 her pallet, tucked more blankets around her. She was already asleep.

By increments, the galley recovered its accustomed warmth.

Seasauce and Hearthcoal labored like t.i.tans to produce hot food for the hard-pressed crew. As Honninscrave became more confident of the dromonds stance against the gale, be began sending Giants in small groups for aliment and rest: a steady stream of them pa.s.sed through the galley. They entered with h.o.a.r in their hair and strain in their eyes. The same gaunt look of memory marked every face. But the taste of hot food and the comradely bl.u.s.ter of the cooks solaced them; and when they returned to their tasks they bore themselves with more of their wonted jaunty sea-love and courage. They had survived the Soulbiter. Valiantly, they went back to their battle with the bitter grue of the sea.

Covenant remained in the galley for a while to watch over Linden. Her slumber was so profound that he distrusted it instinctively. He expected her to slip back into the tallow pallor of frostbite. She looked so small, frail, and desirable lying there nearly under the feet of the Giants. But her form curled beneath the blankets brought back other memories as well; and eventually he found himself falling from relief and warmth into bereavement She was the only woman he knew who understood his illness and still accepted him. Already, her stubborn commitment to him*and to the Land*bad proved itself stronger than his despair. He yearned to put his (42 of 399) [1/19/03 11:38:41 PM]

arms around her, clasp her to him. But he did not have the right. And in her a.n.a.lystic sleep she did not need the loyalty of his attendance. To escape the ache of what he had lost, he sashed his robe tightly about him and went out into the keening wind.

Instantly, he stumbled into the swirl of a snowfall as thick as fog. It flurried against his face. Ice crunched under his boots. When he blinked his eyes clear, he saw pinp.r.i.c.ks of light around the decks and up in the rigging. The snow veiled the day so completely that the Giants were compelled to use lanterns. The sight dismayed him. How could Honninscrave keep the Giantship running, headlong and blind in such a sea, when his crew was unable to tend the sails without lamps?

57 But flie Master had no choice. While this wind held, the dromond could do nothing but grit its teeth and endure.

The matter was out of Covenant's hands. Braving the flung snow and the ice-knurled decks with Call's support, he went looking for the First.

But when he found her in the cabin she shared with Pitchwife, he discovered that he did not know what to say.

She was polishing her longsword. and her slow stroking movements had a quality of deliberate grimness which suggested that the survival of Starfare'i Gem was out of her hands as well. She had broken the spell of the Soulbiter; she could do nothing now. For a long moment, they shared a hard stare of determination and helplessness. Then he turned away.

The snowfall continued. It clung to the air, and the wind whipped it forward, darkening the day as if the sky were clogged with ashes.

It brought with it a slight moderation of the temperature; and the fierceness of the blast was softened somewhat. But in reaction the seas grew more tempestuous. And they no longer followed the thrust of the gale. Other forces bent them out of the grasp of the storm, forcing Starfare's Gem to slog and claw its way across the grain of the current. Honninscrave shifted course as much as he dared to accommodate the seas; but the wind did not give him much lat.i.tude. As a result, the ma.s.sive vessel pounded forward with a wild gait, a slewing pitch-and-yaw with a sickening pause on the wavetops while the dromond hung momentarily out of control, followed by a plunge which buried the stern to its taffrail in black water. Only the unfrightened demeanor of the Giants convinced Covenant that Starfare's Gem was not about to founder.

Shortly before sunset, the snow lifted, letting a little dirty yellow light lick briefly across the battered seas. At once, Honninscrave sent Giants into the tops to scan the horizons before the illumination failed. They reported no landfall in sight. Then a night blinded by clouds closed down over the (43 of 399) [1/19/03 11:38:41 PM]

Giantship, and Starfare's Gem went running into the pit of an unreadable dark.

In the galley, Covenant rode the storm with his back braced between one wall and the side of a stove and his 58 gaze fixed on Linden. Blank to the vessel's staggering, she slept so peacefully that she reminded him of the Land before the onset of the Sunbane. She was a terrain which should never have been violated by bloodshed and hate, a place that deserved better. But the Land had men and women*however few*who had fought and would fight for its healing. And Linden was among them. Yet in the struggle against her own inner Sunbane she had no one but herself.

The night stretched out ahead of Starfare's Gem. After a meal and a cup of thinned diamondraught. Covenant tried to rest Rec.u.mbent on his pallet, he let the seas flop him from side to side and strove to imagine that he was being cradled.

Fitfully, he dozed his way into true sleep.

But almost at once he began to flounder. He was back in me Sandhold, in Kemper's Pitch, strapped motionless for torture. He had pa.s.sed, untouched, through knives and fire; but now he was being hurled down into himself, thrown with the violence of greed toward the hard wall of his fate. Then, however, he had been saved by Hergrom; and now Hergrom was dead. There was no one to save him from the impact that broke everything, filled the air with the splintering thunder of a mountain being riven.

His skin slick with sweat, he awakened*and the sound went on. Starfare's Gem was shattering. Concussions yeHed through the hull. His face pressed the wall. A chaos of crockery and utensils burst across the galley. He tried to thrust himself back; but the ship's momentum pinned him.

Stone screams answered the wind*the sound of masts and spars splitting under the strain. The dromond had been driven into some kind of collision.

The next instant, Starfare's Gem heaved to a halt. Covenant rolled out into the broken litter dancing across the floor.

Bruising his knees and hands on the shards, he lurched to his feet Then a tremendous weight hammered down on the prow of the ship; and the floor tilted as if the Giantship were on its way to the depths. The afterdoor of the galley jumped from its mounts. Until Starfare's Gem stumbled back into a semblance of trim. Covenant had to cling to Cail and let the Haruchai uphold him.

The dromond seemed to be settling. Cries of breakage retorted along the wind. Outside the galley, the air was Sea of tee 59 frantic with shouts; but over them all rose Honninscrave's stentorian howl: "Pitchwifel"

(44 of 399) [1/19/03 11:38:41 PM]

Then Hearthcoal stirred in one corner; Seasauce shrugged the remains of a broken shelf off his back; and Covenant started to move. His first thought was for Linden; but a swift glance showed him that she was safe: still clasped in the sopor of diamondraught, she lay on her pallet with Mistweave braced protectively over her. Seeing Covenant's look, Mistweave gave a quick nod of rea.s.surance. Without hesitation. Covenant surged to the ruptured door and charged out into the teeth of the wind.

He could see nothing: the night was as black as Vain. AH the lanterns seemed to have been blown out. When he located a point of light hanging near Shipsheartthew, it showed him only that the wheeldeck had been abandoned. But shouts of command and desperation came from the direction of the prow. Gripping Call's shoulder because he could not keep his footing on the ice. Covenant labored forward.

At first, he followed the sound of Honninscrave's bellow, the First's iron orders. Then lanterns began to appear as Giants called for light so that they could see their way amid the snarled wreckage which crowded the vessel's foredeck.

In a prodigious tangle of sundered canvas and gear, pulleys and lines, sprawled several thick stone beams*the two upper spars and a section of the foremast The great trunk of the mast had been broken in half. One of the fallen spars was intact; me other lay in three jagged pieces. At every step, the Giants kicked through slivers of granite.

Four crewmembers were crumpled in the wreckage.

The lantern-light was so wan, cast so many shadows, that Covenant could not see if any of them were still alive.

The First had her sword in her fist. Wielding it as deftly as a dagger, she cut through shrouds and sails toward the nearest of the fallen Giants. Galewrath and several others attacked the same task with their knives.

Sevinhand started into the wreckage. Honninscrave called him back, sent him instead to muster hands at the pumps.

Covenant felt the dromond sinking dangerously; but he had no time for that fear. Through the din, he shouted at Cail, "Get LindenI"60 "She has consumed much diamondraught^ the Baruchai replied. "She will not be lightly roused." His tone was impersonal.

"I don't care!" snapped Covenant. "We're going to need her!"

Whirling away, he flung himself in the wake of the First.

She was crouched beside a limp form. As Covenant reached her, she surged erect again. Her eyes echoed the lanterns hotly. Darkness lay along her blade like blood.

"Cornel" she rasped. "We can do nothing here." Her sword sliced into the piled canvas with a sound like a cry.

(45 of 399) [1/19/03 11:38:41 PM]

Covenant glanced at the Giant she had left. The crewmember was a young woman he remembered*a grinning sailor with a cheerful determination to be always in the forefront of any work or hazard. He recognized half her face: the rest had been crushed by the broken b.u.t.t of the mast.

For a moment, the dark came over him. Bereft of light, he blundered into the wreckage and could not fight free. But then he felt venom rise like bile in his throat, felt worms of fire begin to crawl down his forearm; and the shock steadied him. He had nearly let the wild destruction slip. Cursing, he stumbled after the First again.

A stolid shout reported that Galewrath had found another of the injured Giants dead. Covenant forced himself to go faster, as if his haste might keep the other crewmembers alive. But the First had already left behind a third corpse, a man with an arm-long splinter of stone driven through the base of his throat In a fever of suppressed fire. Covenant thrashed onward.

Galewrath and the First converged on the last Giant with Honninscrave and Covenant following closely.

The face of this Giant was less familiar to him. She had never been brought specifically to his notice. But that did not matter. He cared only that she was alive.

Her breath came in hoa.r.s.e wet heaves: black fluid ran from the comer of her mouth, formed a pool under her head. The bulk of the one unsnapped spar lay across her chest, crushing her to the hard deck. Both her forearms were broken.

The First slapped her longsword into its scabbard. Together, she and Galewrath bent to the beam, tried to lift it 61 But the huge spar was far too heavy for them. Its ends were trapped: one stretched under the fallen mast; the other was snared in a mountain of gear and canvas.

Galewrath went on straining at the beam as if she did not know how to admit defeat. But the First swung upright, and her voice rang out over the deck, demanding help.

Giants were already on their way. Several of them veered toward the mast, fought to clear it so that they could roll it off the spar; others slashed into the wreckage at the far end with their knives.

There was little time. The life was being squeezed out of the pinned Giant: it panted from her mouth in damp shallow gasps. Her face was intense with pain.

No! Covenant panted in response. No. Thrusting himself forward, he cried through the clamor, "Get back! I'm going to break this thing off her!"

He did not wait to see whether he was obeyed. Wrapping his arms as far as he could around the bole of the spar, be brought up white fire to tear the stone apart.

(46 of 399) [1/19/03 11:38:41 PM]

With a fierce yell, Honninscrave wrenched Covenant from the spar, shoved bini away.

"Honninscrave*I" the First began, "I must have this spar whole!" roared the Master. His beard jutted fury and aggrievement alpng his jaw. "Starfare's Gem cannot endure any sea with but one mast!" The plight of his ship consumed him. "If Pitchwife can mend this shaft by any amount, then I must have a spar to bold saill He cannot remake the Giantship entirel"

For an instant, he and the First confronted each other furiously. Covenant fought to keep himself from howling.

Then a groan and thud of granite shook the deck as four or five Giants rolled the mast off the end of the spar.

At once, the First and Honninscrave sprang to work. With Galewrath and every Giant who could lay hand to the beam, they pitted their strength against the spar.

The long stone shaft lifted like an ordinary timber in (heir arms.

As the weight left her, the crushed crewmember let out a shredded moan and lost consciousness.

Immediately, Galewrath crouched under the yard to her.

Clamping one hand under the woman's chin, the other at White Gold Wielder the back of her head to minimize the risk of further injuring a broken spine, the Storesmaster drew her comrade from beneath the spar to a small clear s.p.a.ce in the middle of the wreckage.

Covenant gaped at them half-wittedly, trembling as if he had been s.n.a.t.c.hed from the brink of an act of desecration.

Swiftly, Galewrath examined the crushed woman. But the fragmentary light of the lanterns made her appear tentative.

hampered by hesitation and uncertainty. She was the dromond's healer and knew how to treat any hurt that she could see; but she had no way to correct or even evaluate such severe internal damage. And while she faltered, the woman was slipping out of reach.

Covenant tried to say Linden's name. But at that moment a group of Giants came through the shambles carrying lanterns. Mistweave and Cail were among them. Mistweave bore Linden.

She lay in his arms as if she were still asleep*as if the diomondraughfs hold over her could not be breached by any desperation.

But when he set her on her feet. her eyes fluttered open.

Groggily, she ran her fingers through her hair, pulled it back from her face. Shadows glazed her eyes; she looked like a (47 of 399) [1/19/03 11:38:41 PM]

woman who was walking in her dreams. A yawn stretched her mouth. She appeared unaware of the pain sprawling at her feet.

Then abruptly she sank down beside the dying Giant as though her knees had failed. She bowed her head, and her hair swung forward to hide her face again.

Rigid with useless impatience, the First clenched her fists on her hips. Galewrath glared back at the lamps. Honninscrave turned away as if he could not bear the sight, began whispering commands. His tone made the crew obey with alacrity.

Linden remained bowed over the Giant as if she were praying. The noise of the crew in the wreckage, the creaking of the dromond's granite, the m.u.f.fled crackle of ice made what she was saying inaudible. Then her voice came into clearer focus.

"*but the spinal cord is all right. If you splint her back, strap her down, the bones should mend."

Galewrath nodded stiffly, glowering as if she knew there was more to be said.

63 The next moment, a tremor ran through Linden. Her head jerked up.

"Her heart's bleeding. A broken rib*" Her eyes cast a white blind stare into the dark.

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White Gold Wielder Part 5 summary

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