The Wounded Land

the krill. It became hot in his hands, hot enough to touch the nerves which still lived. He dropped it to the ground, where it shone like the last piece of light in the world. Mutely, he knelt beside it, with his back to Glimmermere as if he had been humbled. He felt alone in the Land, and incapable of himself.

But he was not alone. Brinn tore a strip from his tunic-a garment made from an ochre material which resembled vellum-and wrapped the krill so that it could be handled. For a moment, he placed a gentle touch on Covenant's shoulder. Then he said quietly, “Ur-Lord, come. The Clave will attempt to strike against us. We must go.”

As the gleam of the krill was silenced, the darkness became complete. It was a balm to Covenant, solace for the aggrievement of power. He ached for it to go on assuaging him forever. But he knew Brinn spoke the truth. Yes, he breathed. We must go. Help me.

When he raised his head, he could see the stars. They glittered as if only their own beauty could console them for their loneliness. The moon was rising. It was nearly full.

In silence and moonlight, Covenant climbed to his feet and began to carry his exhaustion back toward Revelstone.

After a few steps, he accepted the burden of the krill from Brinn and tucked it under his belt. Its warmth rested there like a comfort against the knotted self-loathing in his stomach.

Stumbling and weary, he moved without knowing how he could ever walk as far as Revelstone. But Brinn aided him, supported him when he needed help, let him carry himself when he could. After a time that passed, like the sequences of delirium, they gained the promontory and the mouth of the na-Mhoram's Keep.

One of the Haruchai awaited them outside the tunnel which led down into Revelstone. As Covenant lurched to a halt, the Haruchai bowed; and Brinn said, “Ur-Lord, this is Ceer.”

“Ur-Lord,” Ceer said.

Covenant blinked at Mm, but could not respond. He seemed to have no words left.

Expressionlessly, Ceer extended a leather pouch toward him.

He accepted it. When he unstopped the pouch, he recognized the smell of metheglin. At once, he began to drink. His drained body was desperate for fluid. Desperate. He did not lower the pouch until it was empty.

“Ur-Lord,” Ceer said then, “the Clave gathers about the Banefire. We harry them, and they make no forays- but there is great power in their hands. And four more of the Haruchai have been slain. We have guided all prisoners from Revelstone. We watch over them as we can. Yet they are not safe. The Clave holds coercion to sway our minds, if they but choose to exert it. We know this to our cost. We must flee.”

Yes, Covenant mumbled inwardly. Flee. I know. But when he spoke, the only word he could find was, “Linden-?”

Without inflection, Ceer replied, “She has awakened.”

Covenant did not realize that he had fallen until he found himself suspended in Brinn's arms. For a long moment, he could not force his legs to straighten. But the metheglin helped him. Slowly, he took his own weight, stood upright again.

“How-?”

“Ur-Lord, we strove to wake her.” Suppressing the lilt of his native tongue to speak Covenant's language made Ceer sound completely detached. “But she lay as the dead, and would not be succoured. We bore her from the Keep, knowing not what else to do. Yet your black companion-” He paused, asking for a name.

“Vain,” Covenant said, almost choking on the memory of that grin. “He's an ur-vile.”

A slight contraction of his eyebrows expressed Ceer's surprise; but he did not utter his thoughts aloud. “Vain,” he resumed, “stood by unheeding for a time. But then of a sudden he approached Linden Avery the Chosen.” Dimly, Covenant reflected that the Haruchai must already have spoken to Sunder or Hollian. “Knowing nothing of him, we strove to prevent him. But he cast us aside as if we were not who we are. He knelt to the Chosen, placed his hand upon her. She awakened.”

A groan of incomprehension and dread twisted Covenant's throat; but Ceer went on. “Awakening, she cried out and sought to flee. She did not know us. But the Stonedownors your companions comforted her. And still”- a slight pause betrayed Ceer's uncertainty — 'Vain had not done. Ur-Lord, he bowed before her-he, who is heedless of the Haruchai, and deaf to all speech. He placed his forehead upon her feet.

“This was fear to her,” Ceer continued. “She recoiled to the arms of the Stonedownors. They also do not know this Vain. But they stood to defend her if need be. He rose to his feet, and there he stands yet, still unheeding, as a man caught in the coercion of the Clave. He appears no longer conscious of the Chosen, or of any man or woman.”

Ceer did not need to speak his thought; Covenant could read it in his flat eyes.

We do not trust this Vain.

But Covenant set aside the question of Vain. The krill was warm against his belly; and he had no strength for distractions. His path was clear before him, had been clear ever since he had absorbed the meaning of the soothtell. And Linden was awake. She had been restored to him. Surely now he could hold himself together long enough to set his purpose in motion.

Yet he took the time for one more inquiry. “How is she?”

Ceer shrugged fractionally. “She has gazed upon the face of Corruption. Yet she speaks clearly to the Stonedownors.” He paused, then said, “She is your companion. You have redeemed us from abomination. While we live, she and all your companions will suffer no further hurt.” He looked toward Brinn. “But she has warned us of a Raver. Ur-Lord, surely we must flee.”

A Raver, thought Covenant. Gibbon. Yes.

What did he do to her? The nightmare on her face was still vivid to him. What did that bastard do to her?

Without a word, he locked himself erect, and started stiffly down the tunnel into Revelstone.

The way was long; but metheglin and darkness sustained him. Vain's grin sustained him. The Demondim-spawn had awakened her? Had knelt to her? The ur-viles must have lied to Foamfollower. Hamako's rhysh must have been mistaken or misled. Did Vain bow in acknowledgment of Gibbon's effect on her?

What did that bastard do to her?

If Covenant had doubted his purpose before, or had doubted himself, he was sure now. No Clave or distance or impossibility was going to stand in his way.

Down through the city he went, like a tight curse. Down past Haruchai who scouted the city and watched the Riders. Down to the gates, and the passage under the watchtower. He had already killed twenty-one people; he felt that for himself he had nothing left to fear. His fear was for his companions; and his curse was for the Despiser. His purpose was clear.

As he moved through the tunnel, a score of Haruchai gathered 'around him like an honour-guard. They bore supplies which they had scoured from Revelstone for the flight of the prisoners.

With them, he passed the broken outer gates into the night.

Below him on the rocky slope of the foothill burned a large bonfire. Stark against the massed jungle beyond it, it flamed with a loud crepitation, fighting the rain-drenched green wood which the Haruchai fed to it. Its yellow light enclosed all the prisoners, defending them from darkness.

He could see a group of Stonedownors and Woodhelvennin huddling uncertainly near the fire. Haruchai moved around the area, preparing supplies, wresting more firewood from the jungle, standing watch. Vain stood motionless among them. Sunder, Hollian, and Linden sat close together as if to comfort each other.

He had eyes only for Linden. Her back was to him. He hardly noticed that all Brinn's people had turned toward him and dropped to one knee, as if he had been announced by silent trumpets. With the dark citadel rising behind him, he went woodenly toward Linden's back as if he meant to fall at her feet.

Sunder saw him, spoke quickly to Linden and Hollian. The Stonedownors jumped upright and faced Covenant as if he came bearing life and death. More slowly, Linden, too, climbed erect. He could read nothing but pain in the smudged outlines of her mien. But her eyes recognized him. A quiver like urgency ran through her. He could not