Covenant was surprised by the depth of the canyon. The place resembled a gullet; the rock of the upper edges looked like dark teeth silhouetted against the sky. Unforeseen dangers seemed to crouch, waiting, in the shadows of the walls. For a moment, he faltered. But his need to find his companions impelled him. As he was steered toward the dwellings of the Woodhelven, he studied everything he could see, searching for information, hope.
He was struck initially by the resemblance between the village and the men who had captured him. Stonemight Woodhelven was slovenly; its inhabitants were the first careless people he had met in the Land. The canyon floor around the houses was strewn with refuse; and the people wore their robes as if they had no interest in the appearance or even the wholeness of their apparel. Many of them looked dirty and ill-used, despite the fact that they were obviously well-fed. And the houses were in a similar condition. The wooden structures were fundamentally sound. Each stood on massive stilts for protection against the force of water which ran through the canyon during a sun of rain; and all had frames of logs as heavy as vigas. But the construction of the walls was sloppy, leaving gaps on all sides; and many of the door-ladders had broken rungs and twisted runners.
Covenant stared with, surprise and growing trepidation as he moved through the disorganized cluster of huts. How —? he wondered. How can people this careless survive the Sunbane?
Yet in other ways they did not appear careless. Their eyes smouldered with an odd combination of belligerence and fright as they regarded him. They reminded him strangely of Drool Rockworm, the Cavewight who had been ravaged almost to death by his lust for the Illearth Stone.
Covenant's captors took him to the largest and best-made of the houses. There, the leader called out, “Graveller!” After a few moments, a woman emerged and came down the ladder to face Covenant and Vain. She was tall, and moved with a blend of authority and desperation. Her robe was a vivid emerald colour-the first bright raiment Covenant had seen-and it was whole; but she wore it untidily. Her hah-lay in a frenzy of snarls. She had been weeping; her visage was dark and swollen, battered by tears.
He was vaguely confused to meet a Graveller in a Woodhelven. Formerly, the people of wood and stone had kept their lores separate. But he had already seen evidence that such distinctions of devotion no longer obtained. After Lord Foul's defeat, the villages must have had a long period of interaction and sharing. Therefore Crystal Stonedown had raised an eh-Brand who used wood, and Stonemight Woodhelven was led by a Graveller.
She addressed the leader of the captors. “Brannil?”
The man poked Covenant's shoulder. “Graveller,” he said in a tone of accusation, “this one spoke the name of the stranger, companion to the Stonedownors.” Grimly, he continued, “He is the Halfhand. He bears the white ring.”
She looked down at Covenant's hand. When her eyes returned to his face, they were savage. “By the Stonemight!” she snarled, “we will yet attain recompense.” Her head jerked a command. Turning away, she went toward her house.
Covenant was slow to respond. The woman's appearance-and the mention of his friends-had stunned him momentarily. But he shook himself alert, shouted after the Graveller, “Wait!”
She paused. Over her shoulder, she barked, “Brannil, has he shown power against you?”
“No, Graveller,” the man replied.
“Then he has none. If he resists you, strike him senseless.” Stiffly, she re-entered her dwelling and closed the door.
At once, hands grabbed Covenant's arms, dragged him toward another house, thrust him at the ladder. Unable to regain his balance, he fell against the rungs. Immediately, several men forced him up the ladder and through the doorway with such roughness that he had to catch himself on the far wall.
Vain followed him. No one had touched the Demondim-spawn. He climbed into the hut of his own accord, as if he were unwilling to be separated from Covenant.
The door slammed shut. It was tied with a length of vine.
Muttering, “Damnation,” Covenant sank down the wall to sit on the woven-wood floor and tried to think.
The single room was no better than a hovel. He could see through chinks in the walls and the floor. Some of the wood looked rotten with age. Anybody with strength or a knife could have broken out. But freedom was not precisely what he wanted. He wanted Linden, wanted to find Sunder and Hollian. And he had no knife. His resources of strength did not impress Mm.
For a moment, he considered invoking his one command from Vain, then rejected the idea. He was not that desperate yet. For some time, he studied the village through the gaps in the walls, watched the afternoon shadows lengthen toward evening in the canyon. But he saw nothing that answered any of his questions. The hovel oppressed him. He felt more like a prisoner-more ineffectual and doomed-than he had in Mithil Stonedown. A sense of impending panic constricted his heart. He found himself clenching his fists, glaring at Vain as if the Demondim- spawn's passivity were an offense to him.
His anger determined him. He checked through the front wall to be sure the two guards were still there. Then he carefully selected a place in the centre of the door where the wood looked weak, measured his distance from it, and kicked.
The house trembled. The wood let out a dull splitting noise.
The guards sprang around, faced the door.
Covenant kicked the spot again. Three old branches snapped, leaving a hole the size of his hand.
“Ware, prisoner!” shouted a guard. “You will be clubbed!”
Covenant answered with another kick. Splinters showed along one of the inner supports.
The guards hesitated, clearly reluctant to attempt opening the door while it was under assault.
Throwing his weight into the blow, Covenant hit again.
One guard poised himself at the foot of the ladder. The other sprinted toward the Graveller's dwelling.
Covenant grinned fiercely. He went on kicking at the door, but did not tire himself by expending much effort. When the Graveller arrived, he gave the wood one last blow and stopped.
At a command from the Graveller, a guard ascended the ladder. Watching Covenant warily through the hole, he untied the lashings, then sprang away to evade the door if Covenant kicked it again.
Covenant did not. He pushed the door aside with his hand and stood framed in the entryway to confront the Graveller. Before she could address him, he snapped, “I want to talk to you.”
She drew herself up haughtily. “Prisoner, I do not wish to speak with you.”
He overrode her. “I don't give a good goddamn what you wish. If you think I don't have power, you're sadly mistaken. Why else does the Clave want me dead?” Bluffing grimly, he rasped, “Ask your men what happened when they attacked my companion.”
The narrowing of her eyes revealed that she had already been apprised of Vain's apparent invulnerability.
“I'll make a deal with you,” he went on, denying her time to think. “I'm not afraid of you. But I don't want to hurt you. I can wait until you decide to release me yourself. If you'll answer some questions, I'll stop breaking this house down.”
Her eyes wandered momentarily, returned to his face. “You have no power.”
“Then what are you afraid of?”
She hesitated. He could see that she wanted to turn away; but his anger undermined her confidence. Apparently, her confidence had already taken heavy punishment from some other source. After a moment, she murmured thickly, “Ask.”
At once, he said, “You took three prisoners-a woman named Linden Avery and two Stonedownors. Where are they?”
The Graveller did not meet his gaze. Somehow, his question touched the cause of her distress. “They are gone.”
“Gone?” A lurch of dread staggered his heart. “What do you mean?” She did not reply. “
“No!” Her look was one of outraged hunger, the look of a predator robbed of its prey. 'It was our
