messages to the Lords. She did not want his purpose to be waylaid by the retribution of the Stonedown. This was her contribution to the defence of the Land from Lord Foul the Grey Slayer.
It was a heroic contribution. In spite of his discipline, his fear, he sensed the violence Lena had done herself for the sake of his message. He seemed to see her huddling naked behind a rock in the foothills throughout that bleak night, shunning for the first time in her young life the open arms of her community bearing the pain and shame of her riven body alone so that he would not be required to answer for it. An unwanted memory of the blood on her loins writhed in him.
His shoulders bunched to strangle the thought. Through locked teeth, he breathed to himself, I've got to go to the Council.
When he had steadied himself, he asked grimly, “What did the elders say?”
“There was little for them to say,” she replied in a flat voice. 'I told them what I know of you-and of the Land's peril. They agreed that I must guide you to Lord's Keep. For that purpose I have come to you now. See-“ she indicated two packs lying near her feet ”I am ready. Trell my husband has given me his blessing. It grieves me to go without giving my love to Lena my daughter, but time is urgent. You have not told me all your message, but I sense that from this day forward each delay is hazardous. The elders will give thought to the defence of the plains. We must go”
Covenant met her eyes, and this time he understood the sad determination in them. She was afraid, and did not believe that she would live to return to her family. He felt a sudden pity for her. Without fully comprehending what he said, he tried to reassure her. “Things aren't as bad as they might be. A Cavewight has found the Staff of Law, and I gather he doesn't really know how to use it. Somehow, the Lords have got to get it away from him.”
But his attempt miscarried. Atiaran stiffened and said, “Then the life of the Land is in our speed. Alas that we cannot go to the Ranyhyn for help. But the Ramen have little countenance for the affairs of the Land, and no Ranyhyn has been ridden, save by Lord or Bloodguard, since the age began. We must walk, Thomas Covenant, and Revelstone is three hundred long leagues distant. Is your clothing dry? We must be on our way.”
Covenant was ready; he had to get away from this place. He gathered himself to his feet and said, “Fine. Let's go.”
However, the look that Atiaran gave him as he stood held something unresolved. In a low voice as if she were mortifying herself, she said, “Do you trust me to guide you, Thomas Covenant? You do not know me. I failed in the Loresraat.”
Her tone seemed to imply not that she was undependable, but that he had the right to judge her. But he was in no position to judge anyone. “I trust you,” he rasped. “Why not? You said yourself-” He faltered, then forged ahead. “You said yourself that I come to save or damn the Land.”
“True,” she returned simply. “But you do not have the stink of a servant of the Grey Slayer. My heart tells me that it is the fate of the Land to put faith in you, for good or ill.”
“Then let's go.” He took the pack that Atiaran lifted toward him and shrugged his shoulders into the straps. But before she put on her own pack, she knelt to the graveling in the sand. Passing her hands over the fire-stones, she began a low humming-a soft tune that sounded ungainly in her mouth, as if she were unaccustomed to it-and under her waving gestures the yellow light faded. In a moment, the stones had lapsed into a pale, pebbly grey, as if she had lulled them to sleep, and their heat dissipated. When they were cold, she scooped them into their pot, covered it, and stored it in her pack.
The sight reminded Covenant of all the things he did not know about this dream. As Atiaran got to her feet, he said, “There's only one thing I need. I want you to talk to me-tell me all about the Loresraat and the Lords and everything I might be interested in.” Then because he could not give her the reason for his request, he concluded lamely, “It'll pass the time.”
With a quizzical glance at him, she settled her pack on her shoulders. “You are strange, Thomas Covenant. I think you are too eager to know my ignorance. But what I know I will tell you-though without your raiment and speech it would pass my belief to think you an utter stranger to the Land. Now come. There are treasure-berries aplenty along our way this morning. They will serve as breakfast. The food we carry must be kept for the chances of the road.”
Covenant nodded, and followed her as she began climbing out of the ravine. He was relieved to be moving again, and the distance passed quickly. Soon they were down by the river, approaching the bridge.
Atiaran strode straight onto the bridge, but when she reached the top of the span she stopped. A moment after Covenant joined her, she gestured north along the Mithil toward the distant plains. “I tell you openly, Thomas Covenant,” she said, 'I do not mean to take a direct path to Lord's Keep. The Keep is west of north from us, three hundred leagues as the eye sees across the Centre Plains of the Land. There many people live, in Stonedown and Woodhelven, and it might chance that both road and help could be found to take us where we must go. But we could not hope for horses. They are rare in the Land, and few folk but those of Revelstone know them.
“It is in my heart that we may save time by journeying north, across the Mithil when it swings east, and so into the land of Andelain, where the fair Hills are the flower of all the beauties of the Earth. There we will reach the Soulsease River, and it may be that we will find a boat to carry us up that sweet stream, past the westland of Trothgard, where the promises of the Lords are kept, to great Revelstone itself, the Lord's Keep. All travellers are blessed by the currents of the Soulsease, and our journey will end sooner if we find a carrier there. But we must pass within fifty leagues of Mount Thunder-Gravin Threndor.” As she said the ancient name, a shiver seemed to run through her voice. “It is there or nowhere that the Staff of Law has been found, and I do not wish to go even as close as Andelain to the wrong wielder of such might.”
She paused for a moment, hesitating, then went on: 'There would be rue unending if a corrupt Cavewight gained possession of the ring you bear-the evil ones are quick to unleash such forces as wild magic. And even were the Cavewight unable to use the ring, I fear that ur-viles still live under Mount Thunder. They are lore-wise creatures, and white gold would not surpass them.
“But time rides urgently on us, and we must save it where we may. And there is another reason for seeking the passage of Andelain at this time of year-if we hasten. But I should not speak of it. You will see it and rejoice, if no ill befall us on our way.”
She fixed her eyes on Covenant, turning all their inward strength on him, so that he felt, as he had the previous evening, that she was searching for his weaknesses. He feared that she would discover his night's work in his face, and he had to force himself to meet her gaze until she said, “Now tell me, Thomas Covenant. Will you go where I lead?”
Feeling both shamed and relieved, he answered, “Let's get on with it. I'm ready.”
“That is well.” She nodded, started again toward the east bank. But Covenant spent a moment looking down at the river. Its soft plaint sounded full of echoes, and they seemed to moan at him with serene irony,
As the sun climbed over the eastern mountains, Atiaran and Covenant were moving north, downstream along the river toward the open plains. At first, they travelled in silence. Covenant was occupied with short forays into the hills to his right, gathering
Something in the set of her features seemed to ask him not to talk, so he disciplined himself to stillness with survival drills. Then he strove to regain the mechanical ticking stride which had carried him so far from Haven Farm. Atiaran appeared resigned to a trek of three hundred leagues, but he was not. He sensed that he would need all his leper's skills to hike for even a day without injuring himself. In the rhythm of his steps, he struggled to master the unruliness of his situation.
He knew that eventually he would have to explain his peculiar danger to Atiaran. He might need her help, at least her comprehension. But not yet-not yet. He did not have enough control.
But after a while, she changed direction, began angling away from the river up into the northeastern foothills.
