Fatal Revenant

can. We need you at your best.”

With difficulty, she restrained an impulse to demand, So heal, damn it. Or let me help you. You aren’t much good like this.

His hurts were as unmistakable as groans.

Clyme faced her without expression. For a moment, he appeared to be waiting for her to say more; to speak her wishes aloud so that he could refuse her. Then he gave a slight nod. Urging Mhornym to greater speed with every stride, he rode away.

Abruptly Mahrtiir growled, “The Ringthane speaks sooth. Yet needful tasks in which the Ramen have no equal I cannot now perform. Cord Pahni, you also must watch over this company, that no sign or hint which may elude the sleepless ones will be missed. The Stonedownor and Stave will care for Anele.”

Pahni flung a look like pleading at Liand, urging him to be safe, before she sent Naharahn into a gallop after Clyme. Behind her, the remaining Ranyhyn began to run, carrying their riders with the swift ease of birds toward Andelain and the Land’s threatened heart.

While the great horses pounded the steppe, Linden prayed that she would be able to reach the Hills and Loric’s krill in time; and that she would find Thomas Covenant and hope among the Dead.

Eventually the steppe modulated into a region of rugged, stony hills like glacial moraines. Although the horses found passage along the valleys, the littered ground forced them to slow their pace. When they finally emerged from the hills toward gentler terrain, the sun was setting.

Linden did not doubt that the Ranyhyn could travel confidently in darkness. Nevertheless she called a halt on the last of the granite debris. Temporarily, at least, her concern for Anele outweighed her desire for haste. She did not yet entirely trust his pad of blankets. Loose stone would guard him from possession as well as restore a measure of his sanity.

Mumbling to himself, he began to pick through the igneous refuse as if he were seeking a particular kind of rock; specific memories. But whenever he found a bit of granite, or schist, or obsidian that seemed to interest him, he studied it briefly, then cast it aside and resumed his search.

As Liand and Stave unpacked supplies and set out bedding, Bhapa and Pahni emerged from the dusk. They had found no cause for concern within a league of the company, and the Humbled had instructed them to rejoin their companions for food and rest. If the Manethrall approved, Bhapa and Pahni proposed to take turns standing watch atop the nearest of the hills. The Humbled and the Ranyhyn would form a more distant cordon around the company.

Mahrtiir nodded. “It is well. Let it be so.” He sounded vexed, as though the Cords had disappointed him. But Linden understood that his ire was not directed at them. Rather he was galled by his comparative helplessness. As long as Linden or Liand renewed his health-sense regularly, he would remain capable of much. Still his abilities were irretrievably compromised.

Seeking to distract him while Pahni helped Liand prepare a meal, Linden said. “I’m worried, Mahrtiir. We’re pushing the Ranyhyn pretty hard. How much longer can they keep this up?”

Mahrtiir squatted among the stones until she sat down facing him. Then he said, “Do not mistake them, Ringthane. They are far from the bounds of their endurance. Many are the great deeds that they have performed at need. I will speak of one, though it is a tale which no Ramen witnessed. We heard of it from those few Haruchai who chose to serve the Ranyhyn during Fangthane’s unnatural winter, when the Vow of the Bloodguard had been broken.”

Linden settled herself to listen. Liand and Pahni did not pause in their tasks, but their attention was turned toward the Manethrall. Liand was always eager for tales of the Land’s past; and all Ramen loved to speak and hear of the great horses.

“In the years preceding the last siege of Revelstone,” Mahrtiir told the evening and his own darkness. “a silence had fallen over Seareach, and all who loved the Land were troubled by it. No Giants walked the Upper Land to gladden the heart with their friendship and their ready laughter. Nor did the Unhomed send word of their plight in The Grieve. Therefore two Lords and a party of Bloodguard set out for Seareach, to discover what had befallen the Giants.”

“This the Haruchai remember,” Stave put in. “Lord Mhoram, seer and oracle to the Council of Lords, had discerned the peril of the Giants. Therefore Hyrim son of Hoole and Shetra Verement-mate were dispatched to Seareach, accompanied by fifteen Bloodguard. Among that number were Runnik and Tull, who returned to tell the tale.”

Mahrtiir accepted Stave’s confirmation with a nod. Then the Manethrall continued.

“The passage of the Lords and Bloodguard eastward was opposed, but their gravest hazard found them upon the Giantway within Sarangrave Flat, for that was their most direct path to Seareach. There they were beset by the lurker of the Sarangrave. So dire was the lurker’s power that even the great horses could not endure it. In their fear, they endangered the Lords, and Ahnryn of the Ranyhyn was slain.

“Therefore the choice was made to abandon the Giantway-to return westward to Landsdrop and thence into the southeast toward the Defiles Course, that poisoned river which emerges from among the banes deep within Mount Thunder to corrupt Lifeswallower, the Great Swamp. The Lords had determined to fashion a raft to bear them along the Defiles Course and through the Sarangrave until they had passed beyond the reach of the lurker.

“But first it was necessary to cross many arduous leagues to approach the bitter river. The hills which foot the cliff of Landsdrop are raw and twisted, forbidding haste. Also night had fallen, obscuring the treachery of the terrain. Yet the company’s need for haste had grown extreme. And the Ranyhyn were shamed by their fear. Therefore they performed a prodigious feat. In the course of one night and a portion of the subsequent morning, they emerged from the Sarangrave and bore their riders to the Defiles Course, a distance of more than three score leagues.”

God, Linden thought. Three score-Her company had begun its journey by covering fifteen leagues a day.

“By the measure of that accomplishment, Ringthane,” Mahrtiir concluded, “the labours which the Ranyhyn have undertaken on our behalf may be deemed paltry.” His voice was full of pride in the great horses. “If you ask it of them, they will teach you the true meaning of astonishment.”

“Ha!” snorted Anele unexpectedly. He had given no indication that he was listening to the Manethrall; but now he held out a rough pebble as though he expected his companions to marvel at it. “Here is astonishment. Within this stone is written the convulsion which formed Landsdrop when the Illearth Stone and other banes were buried among the roots of Gravin Threndor. Such knowledge is ancient beyond reckoning, yet it is remembered here.”

With a dismissive shrug, he tossed the pebble aside and resumed his search, apparently heedless of his friends. Indeed, he seemed unaware that he had spoken.

Linden watched his innominate quest while Liand and Pahni finished readying a meal. After the collapse of Kevin’s Watch, he had told her, I am the Land’s last hope, but she understood him no better now than she had then. Certainly he had made possible the recovery of the Staff of Law. Yet she did not see herself bringing hope to the Land: she could scarcely believe that she might eventually bring hope to Jeremiah. And if Anele had already achieved his life’s purpose, she could not imagine why he still clung to his madness. Perhaps he refused lucidity only because he feared it. Or perhaps he had not yet discovered or revealed the real purpose of his derangement.

In either case, the ramifications of his condition were too vague to be trusted. As far as she was concerned, the Land’s last-and best-hope lay in Thomas Covenant.

When she and her friends had eaten, they settled themselves as comfortably as the rocky ground allowed while Stave stood guard over the camp, and Bhapa kept watch from the crest of a nearby hill. Rather than allowing herself to dread Roger and attack, Linden concentrated on Roger’s father as she tried to sleep. She wanted to fill herself with images and desires which might enable Covenant to visit her dreams.

But the night did not bring dreams. Instead it brought the first in a tumbled series of spring showers that followed the company for much of the next day: prolonged sprinkles and quick downpours that soaked the riders in spite of the cloaks which they had brought from Revelstone for Linden, Liand, and Anele. At intervals, rain streaked the horizons, constricting the landscape to sodden grass and vleis, and to occasional copses shrouded with moisture. Then, between the showers and clouds, sunshine burst over the region, sketching bright transitory