encountered it.
For Jeremiah’s sake, and Covenant’s, she stemmed the flow of Earthpower from the Staff, although she craved its generous vitality. Then she asked the Theomach, “What about the other army? The King’s supporters?”
“Their numbers are thrice Berek’s. And they have this vantage, that they abandon their wounded and infirm as well as their dead. Thus they are unencumbered, as Berek is not. And indeed his straits are more narrow than I have described, for he retrieves the living fallen among his foes and accords to them the same succour which he provides for his own, scant though that succour assuredly is.
“Yet he continues to harry his foes toward Doom’s Retreat. They have lost heart and purpose, and give battle only because they fear to do otherwise. They adjudge Berek by the standard of themselves, and so they believe that to surrender is to be slaughtered.”
Linden went on swearing to herself. Now she wished that she could run; that she had the strength-Every passing moment meant more death.
When Covenant and Jeremiah appeared suddenly out of the dark, they startled her as if she had forgotten all about them. They moved without a sound. Here the snow was not as deep as it had been in the valley, and the ice did not break under them.
“Linden, slow down,” Covenant whispered urgently. “Berek has scouts out here. One of them just missed us.
And there are outriders closer to the camp. We need a way to get around them.”
Linden strode past him and her son without hesitation. Deliberately she raised her voice. “Well, we certainly aren’t going to sneak up on them. We aren’t their
“Mom!” Jeremiah protested; but she did not pause, even for him.
The Theomach matched her stride. “Lady,” he remarked, “it grows ever more apparent that your folly is wisdom disguised.”
In response, she began to shout, punctuating each sentence with a stamp of the Staff. “Listen to me! I’m a healer! The people with me are my friends! We want Berek’s help, but we also want to help
If the scouts did not hear her, they were too far gone in privation and weariness to be of any use.
Almost at once, however, they reacted. Leather slid over slick ice as they ran. Linden heard the muted jangle of armour, the scrape of drawn blades.
She continued ahead; but she stopped shouting. She had attracted enough attention.
Covenant swore as he and Jeremiah scrambled to catch up with her. Then the night in front of her seemed to solidify, and she found herself facing three warriors with their swords drawn.
Reluctantly she halted. She could not make out their features, but she felt their trepidation as well as their exhaustion: two men and a woman who had endured for seasons or years on raw courage and belief alone. The woman had a badly infected cut in one bicep. One of the men had been slashed across the side of his face recently. The other bore so many smaller wounds that Linden could not count them all.
“There are four of us,” she stated. Her voice shook with exertion. “I’m a healer. The others are my friends. We’ve been walking all day. From the west,” she added because she guessed that Berek’s foes were in the southeast. “And we’re too tired to have much patience. We need to talk to Berek. But first I want to help your wounded. Some of them can still be saved.”
If she distanced herself from Jeremiah and Covenant, she could use her Staff.
“Spies would say the same,” countered the woman. The arm holding her sword trembled. “Doubtless
“When you see the truth,” Linden retorted, “you’ll regret that you held us back. If you want to escort us to your camp, we won’t give you any trouble. But we aren’t going to waste time on some useless interrogation. This is too important.” She wanted to yell, but she swallowed the impulse. “Too many of your people are dying.”
Turning to the man with the smaller wounds, she commanded, “
When none of the scouts moved, she said between her teeth. “Do it now. I won’t tolerate delays.”
“You are mistaken,” the woman replied more harshly. Her sword-arm stiffened. “You will tolerate this delay, and more. We have not suffered the struggles and pain of this war to be daunted by imperious strangers whose purposes are hidden. You will remain where you stand until we have gathered a force sufficient to ensure that you cause no harm. Then we will escort you to our Warhaft. Mayhap he will deign to treat gently with you.”
Linden did not hesitate: she was done with hesitation. “Jeremiah,” she ordered quietly, holding the scouts with her glare. “ask them to step aside, please.”
“Mom?” he protested; then. “Covenant?”
“Do it carefully,” she insisted. “Don’t hurt anyone.”
“Hellfire,” Covenant muttered. “You know your mother. If we don’t help her, this mess is going to get worse fast.”
Linden resisted a fierce desire to thrust her way between the warriors; to force them aside with the Staff if necessary. Biting her lip, she waited for Jeremiah.
The scouts took a step backward, prepared to swing their weapons. Their stances shouted belligerence; nerves stretched past weariness into unthinking rage. Then Linden felt a warm wave of force flow past her from Jeremiah’s outstretched hand. At once, the man with the slashed face lurched out of her way. The woman and the other man stumbled aside.
While her son’s weird theurgy held, she set off quickly in the direction of the camp with the Theomach silent at her side and Covenant and Jeremiah following close behind her.
When the scouts recovered their balance, they swore in fear and anger; tried to rush an attack. But Jeremiah’s unseen magic repulsed them: they rebounded from it as though they had encountered a barricade.
Walking with as much speed as she could manage, Linden asserted as if she spoke to the frigid darkness, “I’ve already told you that I’m a healer. I want to help. And we don’t want trouble. You’re in no danger. There’s no need to turn this into a fight. You’ve done too much fighting as it is.
“Why don’t you just escort us while one of you lets Lord Berek know that we’re coming? If nothing else, you have to think that we’re
For a long moment, the scouts held back. Then, abruptly, the woman sheathed her sword. “Very well,” she rasped. “It will be as you have said.”
She made a rough gesture that Linden felt rather than saw; and at once, the man with the smaller wounds sprinted away, clearly heading toward the nearest of Berek’s outriders. The woman jogged to catch up with Linden at a safe distance, while her comrade took a similar position on the far side of Linden’s small company.
After a brief hesitation, Jeremiah lowered his barrier. Linden sent him her silent gratitude, hoping that he would be able to read her aura. But she did not pause to thank him aloud. The woman who led the scouts was speaking again.
“Comprehend me, however,” she said in a bitten voice. “I accede because I know not how to oppose you. But you are folk of power, hazardous in this war. If by any word or deed you threaten the Lord, or cause harm to those who stand with him, I will contrive to slay you. I have learned much of death. By some means, I will evade your eldritch force and end your haughtiness.”
Linden sighed. Without turning her head, or shifting her attention from the burgeoning and hurtful emanations of Berek’s camp, she asked, “Don’t you have anyone with you who can hear truth? I would have thought that by now,” under the influence of the Land’s rich Earthpower. “some of you would start to notice changes in what you can see and feel and hear.”
“What do you know of such matters?” demanded the woman suspiciously. She seemed unaware that Jeremiah’s barrier was gone.
“This war,” Linden replied. “It changed on the slopes of Mount Thunder. That’s when Lord Berek started to show signs of power you hadn’t seen before. But I find it hard to believe that he’s the only one.” Surely Berek was not alone in his sensitivity to the true life around him? “There have to be more of you who can sense things that seem impossible.”
