HE wandered wincing in sleep, expecting nightmares. But he had none. Through the vague rise and fall of his drifting as if even asleep his senses were alert to the Land-he felt that he was being distantly watched. The gaze on him was anxious and beneficent; it reminded him of the old beggar who had made him read an essay on “the fundamental question of ethics.”
When he woke up, he found that Manhome was bright with sunshine.
The shadowed ceiling of the cave was dim, but light reflecting off the village floor seemed to dispel the oppressive weight of the stone. And the sun reached far enough into Manhome to tell Covenant that he had awakened early in the afternoon of a warm pre-summer day. He lay near the back of the cave in an atmosphere of stillness. Beside him sat Saltheart Foamfollower.
Covenant closed his eyes momentarily. He felt he had survived a gauntlet. And he had an unfocused sense that his bargain was going to work. When he looked up again, he asked, “How long have I been asleep?” as if he had just been roused from the dead.
“Hail and welcome, my friend,” returned the Giant. “You make my
Stretching luxuriously, Covenant said, “Practice. I do so much of it-I'm becoming an expert.”
“A rare skill,” Foamfollower chuckled.
“Not really. There're more of us lepers than you might think.” Abruptly he frowned as if he had caught himself in an unwitting violation of his promised forbearance. In order to avoid being taken seriously, he added in a lugubrious tone, “We're everywhere.”
But his attempt at humour only appeared to puzzle the Giant. After a moment, Foamfollower said slowly, “Are the others- `Leper' is not a good name. It is too short for such as you. I do not know the word, but my ears hear nothing in it but cruelty.”
Covenant sat up and pushed off his blankets. “It's s not cruel, exactly.” The subject appeared to shame him. While he spoke, he could not meet Foamfollower's gaze. “It's either a meaningless accident-or a “just desert”. If it were cruel, it would happen more often.”
“More often?”
“Sure. If leprosy were an act of cruelty-by God or whatever-it wouldn't be so rare. Why be satisfied with a few thousand abject victims when you could have a few million?”
“Accident,” Foamfollower murmured. “Just. My friend, you bewilder me. You speak with such haste. Perhaps the Despiser of your world has only a limited power to oppose its Creator.”
“Maybe. Somehow I don't think my world works that way.”
“Yet you said-did you not? — that lepers are everywhere.”
“That was a joke. Or a metaphor.” Covenant made another effort to turn his sarcasm into humour. “I can never tell the difference.”
Foamfollower studied him for a long moment, then asked carefully, “My friend, do you jest?”
Covenant met the Giant's gaze with a sardonic scowl. “Apparently not.”
“I do not understand this mood.”
“Don't worry about it.” Covenant caught his chance to escape this conversation. “Let's get some food. I'm hungry.”
To his relief, Foamfollower began laughing gently. “Ah, Thomas Covenant,” he chuckled, “do you remember our river journey to Lord's Keep? Apparently there is something in my seriousness which makes you hungry.” Reaching down to one side, he brought up a tray of bread and cheese and fruit, and a flask of springwine. And he went on laughing quietly while Covenant pounced on the food.
Covenant ate steadily for some time before he began looking around. Then he was taken aback to find that the cave was profuse with flowers. Garlands and bouquets lay everywhere, as if overnight each Ramen had raised a garden thick with white columbines and greenery. The white and green eased the austerity of Manhome, covered the stone like a fine robe.
“Are you surprised?” asked Foamfollower. “These flowers honour you. Many of the Ramen roamed all night to gather blooms. You have touched the hearts of the Ranyhyn, and the Ramen are not unamazed or ungrateful. A wonder has come to pass for them five score Ranyhyn offering to one man. The Ramen would not exchange such a sight for Andelain itself, I think. So they have returned what honour is in their power.”
Honour? Covenant echoed.
The Giant settled himself more comfortably, and said as if he were beginning a long tale, “It is sad that you did not see the Land before the Desecration. Then the Ramen might have shown you honour that would humble all your days. All matters were higher in that age, but even among the Lords there were few beauties to equal the great craft of the Ramen. “Marrowmeld,” they called it-
His voice faded as he finished, and after a moment he began to sing softly:
Stone and Sea are deep in life-
A silence of respectful attention surrounded him. The Winhomes near him had stopped to listen.
A short time later, one of them waved out toward the glade, and Covenant, following the gesture, saw Lithe striding briskly across the fiat. She was accompanied by Lord Mhoram astride a beautiful roan Ranyhyn. The sight gladdened Covenant. He finished his springwine in a salute to Mhoram.
“Yes,” said Foamfollower, noticing Covenant's gaze, “much has occurred this morning. High Lord Prothall chose not to offer himself. He said that his old bones would better suit a lesser mount-meaning, I think, that he feared his `old bones' would give affront to the Ranyhyn. But it would be well not to underestimate his strength.”
Covenant heard a current of intimations running through Foamfollower's words. Distantly, he said, “Prothall is going to resign after this Quest-if it succeeds.”
The Giant's eyes grinned. “Is that prophecy?”
Covenant shrugged. “You know as well as I do. He spends too much time thinking about how he hasn't mastered Kevin's Lore. He thinks he's a failure. And he's going to go on thinking that even if he gets the Staff of Law back.”
“Prophecy, indeed.”
“Don't laugh.” Covenant wondered how he could explain the resonance of the fact that Prothall had refused a chance at the Ranyhyn. “Anyway, tell me about Mhoram.”
Happily, Foamfollower said, “Lord Mhoram son of Variol was this day chosen by Hynaril of the Ranyhyn, who also bore Tamarantha Variol-mate. Behold! She is remembered with honour among the great horses. The Ramen say that no Ranyhyn has ever before borne two riders. Truly, an age of wonders has come to the Plains of Ra.”
“Wonders,” Covenant muttered. He did not like to remember the fear with which all those Ranyhyn had faced him. He glared into his flask as if it had cheated him by being empty.
One of the nearest Winhomes started toward him carrying a jug. He recognized Gay. She approached among the flowers, then stopped. When she saw that he was looking at her, she lowered her eyes. “I would refill your flagon,” she said, “but I fear to offend. You will consider me a child.”
Covenant scowled at her. She affected him like a reproach, and he stiffened where he sat. With an effort that made him sound coldly formal, he said, “Forget last night. It wasn't your fault.” Awkwardly, he extended the flask toward her.
She came forward, and poured out springwine for him with hands that shook slightly.
He said distinctly, “Thank you.”
She gazed at him widely for a moment. Then a look of relief filled her face, and she smiled.
Her smile reminded him of Lena. Deliberately, as if she were a burden he refused to shirk, he motioned for
