sacrificed.”
Covenant saw Linden poised to demand to be allowed to help the woman. But he forestalled her. “Sacrificed?”
“Her blood belongs to the Stonedown.” Sunder's voice limped under a weight of pain. “It must not be wasted. Only Nassic my father would not have accepted this. Therefore”- his throat knotted — “it is well he knew not that I am the Graveller of Mithil Stonedown. For it is I who will shed the sacrifice.”
Linden recoiled. Aghast, Covenant exclaimed, “You're going to sacrifice your own mother?”
“For the survival of the Stonedown!” croaked Sunder. “We must have blood.” Then he clamped down his emotion. “You also will be sacrificed. The Stonedown has made its judgment. You will be shed at the rising of the morrow's sun.”
Covenant glared at the Graveller. Ignoring the throb in his head, he rasped, “Why?”
“I have come to make answer.” Sunder's tone and his downcast eyes reproved Covenant. The Graveller plainly loathed his responsibility; yet he did not shirk it. “The reasons are many. You have asked to be released so that you may approach another village.”
“I'm looking for friends,” Covenant countered stiffly. “If I can't find them here, I'll try somewhere else.”
“No.” The Graveller was certain. “Another Stonedown would do as we do. Because you came to them from Mithil Stonedown, they would sacrifice you. In addition,” he continued, “you have spoken friendship for the na- Mhoram, who reaves us of blood.”
Covenant blinked at Sunder. These accusations formed a pattern he could not decipher. “I don't know any na-Mhoram. The Mhoram I knew has been dead for at least three thousand years.”
“That is not possible.” Sunder spoke without raising his head. “You have no more than twoscore years.” His hands twisted. “But that signifies little beside the Rede of the Clave. Though the Riders are loathly to us, their power and knowledge is beyond doubt. They have foretold your coming for a generation. And they are nigh. A Rider will arrive soon to enforce the will of the Clave. Retribution for any disregard would be sore upon us. Their word is one we dare not defy. Our sole concern is that the shedding of your blood may aid the survival of the Stonedown.”
“Wait,” Covenant objected. “One thing at a time.” Pain and exasperation vied in his head. “Three thousand years ago, a man with a halfhand and a white gold ring saved the Land from being completely destroyed by the Grey Slayer. Do you mean to tell me that's been forgotten? Nobody remembers the story?”
The Graveller shifted his weight uncomfortably. “I have heard such a tale-perhaps I alone in Mithil Stonedown. Nassic my father spoke of such things. But he was mad-lost in his wits like Jous and Prassan before him. He would have been sacrificed to the need of the Stonedown, had Kalina his wife and I permitted it.”
Sunder's tone was a revelation to Covenant. It provided him a glimpse of the Graveller's self-conflict. Sunder was torn between what his father had taught him and what the Stonedown accepted as truth. Consciously, he believed what his people believed; but the convictions of his half-mad father worked on him below the surface, eroding his confidence. He was a man unreconciled to himself.
This insight softened Covenant's vexation. He sensed a range of possibilities in Sunder, intuitions of hope; but he handled them gingerly. “All right,” he said. “Let that pass. How is killing us going to help you?”
“I am the Graveller. With blood I am able to shape the Sunbane.” The muscles along his jaw clenched and relaxed without rhythm or purpose. “Today we lie under the desert sun-today, and for perhaps as many as three days more. Before this day, the sun of rain was upon us, and it followed the sun of pestilence. Our herd needs forage, as we need crops. With your blood, I will be able to draw water from the hard earth. I will be able to raise an acre, perhaps two acres, of grass and grain. Life for the Stonedown, until the fertile sun comes again.”
This made no sense to Covenant. Fumbling for comprehension, he asked, “Can't you get water out of the river?”
“There is no water in the river.”
Abruptly, Linden spoke. “No water?” The words conveyed the depth of her incredulity. “That's not possible. It rained yesterday.”
“I have said,” Sunder snapped like a man in pain, “that we lie under the desert sun. Have you not beheld it?”
In his astonishment, Covenant turned to Linden. “Is he telling the truth?”
Sunder's head jerked up. His eyes nicked back and forth between Covenant and Linden.
Through her teeth, she said, “Yes. It's true.”
Covenant trusted her hearing. He swung back to the Graveller. “So there's no water.” Steadiness rose in him-a mustering of his resources. “Let that pass, too.” The throb in his head insisted on his helplessness; but he closed his ears to it. “Tell me how you do it. How you shape the Sunbane.”
Sunder's eyes expressed his reluctance. But Covenant held the Graveller with his demand. Whatever strength of will Sunder possessed, he was too unsure of himself now to refuse. How many times had his father told him about the Unbeliever? After a moment, he acceded. “I am the Graveller.” He reached a hand into his jerkin. “I bear the Sunstone.”
Almost reverently, he drew out a piece of rock half the size of his fist. The stone was smooth, irregularly shaped. By some trick of its surface, it appeared transparent, but nothing showed through it. It was like a hole in his hand.
“Hellfire,” Covenant breathed. Keen relief ran through him. Here was one hard solid piece of hope. “
The Graveller peered at him in surprise. “Do you have knowledge of the Sunstone?”
“Sunder.” Covenant spoke stiffly to control his excitement and anxiety. “If you try to kill us with that thing, people are going to get hurt.”
The Stonedownor shook his head. “You will not resist.
“Oh, there will be pain,” growled Covenant. “You'll be in pain.” Deliberately, he put pressure on the Graveller. “You'll be the only one in this whole Stonedown who knows you're destroying the last hope of the Land. It's too bad your father died. He would have found some way to convince you.”
“Enough!” Sunder almost shouted at the laceration of his spirit. “I have uttered the words I came to speak. In this at least I have shown you what courtesy I may. If there is aught else that you would say, then say it and have done. I must be about my work.”
Covenant did not relent. “What about Marid?”
Sunder jerked to his feet, stood glowering down at Covenant. “He is a slayer, unshriven by any benefit to the Stonedown-a violator of the Rede which all accept. He will be punished.”
“You're going to punish him?” Covenant's control faltered in agitation. “What for?” He struggled erect, thrust his face at the Graveller. “Didn't you hear what I told you? He's innocent. He was taken over by a Raver. It wasn't his fault.”
“Yes,” Sunder retorted. “And he is my friend. But you say he is innocent, and your words have no meaning. We know nothing of any Raver. The Rede is the Rede. He will be punished.”
“Goddamn it!” snapped Covenant, “did you touch him?”
“Am I a fool? Yes, I put my hand upon him. The fire of his guilt is gone. He has awakened and is tormented with the memory of a noisome thing which came upon him out of the rain. Yet his act remains. He will be punished.”
Covenant wanted to take hold of the Graveller, shake him. But his efforts only made the bonds cut deeper into his wrists. Darkly, he asked, “How?”
“He will be bound.” The soft violence of Sunder's tone sounded like self-flagellation. “Borne out into the Plains during the night. The Sunbane will have no mercy for him.” In ire or regret, he evaded Covenant's glare.
With an effort, Covenant put aside the question of Marid's fate, postponed everything he did not understand about the Sunbane. Instead, he asked, “Are you really going to kill Kalina?”
Sunder's hands twitched as if they wanted Covenant's throat. “Should it ever come to pass that I am free to leave this room,” he rasped acidly, “I will do my utmost to heal her. Her blood will not be shed until her death is written on her forehead for all to see. Do you seek to prevent me from her side?”
The Graveller's distress touched Covenant. His indignation fell away. He shook his head, then urged quietly, “Untie Linden. Take her with you. She's a healer. Maybe she-”
