After a moment, Korik said, “This cannot be. It is impossible. The Giants of Seareach are the Rockbrothers of the Land.”
Hoerkin did not respond. Staring at the logs of the raft, he sat like dead clay. But soon he spoke again.
“-crusher. They are named Fleshharrower, Satansfist-and one other not to be named.”
He swallowed once more.
“They are the three Ravers.”
For a time, all the mission was silent. Then both Hyrim and Shetra strove to compel Hoerkin to say more. But he remained beyond their reach, unspeaking.
At last, Lord Shetra said to Hyrim, “How do you hear his words? What meaning do you see?”
“I hear truth,” Lord Hyrim said. “Omen of the end.”
Korik said, “No. By the Vow, it is impossible.”
Quickly Lord Hyrim said, “Do not swear by your Vow here.”
His reproof was just. The Bloodguard were not ignorant of his meaning. Korik did not speak again. But Lord Shetra said, “I agree with Korik. It surpasses belief to think that a Raver could master any Giant. If the Despiser's power extended so far, why did he not enslave Giants in the past?”
Lord Hyrim answered her, “That is true. The Ravers do not suffice. They do not explain. But now Lord Foul has possession of the Illearth Stone. That was not so in the age of the Old Lords. Perhaps the Ravers and the Stone together-”
“Hyrim, we are speaking of the Giants! If such an ill had come upon them, they would have sent word to us.”
“Yes,” Lord Hyrim said. “How was it done?”
“Done?”
“How were they prevented? What has been done to them?”
“To them?” said Lord Shetra. “Ask a more immediate question. What has been done to Hoerkin? What has been done to us?”
“It is the Despiser's way. In the battle of Soaring Woodhelven-we are told-he damaged the Heer Llaura and the child Pietten so that they would help destroy what they loved.”
“They were used to bait a trap. Hyrim, we are baited!”
She did not wait for an answer. She sprang to the rear of the raft, jammed her staff between the logs, began her song. Strength ran through the ironwood; the raft moved forward through the rain. “Join me!” she called to Lord Hyrim. “We must flee this place!”
Lord Hyrim climbed wearily to his feet. “At Soaring Woodhelven, the trap was complete without Llaura and Pietten. They were an arrogance-a taunt-unnecessary.” As he spoke, his breath began to labour in his chest. The muscles of his neck corded with the strain of inhaling.
The Bloodguard, too, could not breathe easily.
In moments, Hyrim fell to his knees, clutching at his chest. Lord Shetra gasped at the effort of each breath.
The rain falling on the river seemed to make no sound.
Then Warhaft Hoerkin leaped to his feet. From between his lips came a low moan of pain. The sound was terrible. His head bent back, and his cry rose until it became a scream.
It was the same scream which had caused the Ranyhyn to panic.
Korik was the first of the Bloodguard to recover his strength. At once, he knocked the Warhaft from the raft.
Hoerkin sank like a stone. The voice was immediately silent.
Yet the thickness of the air only increased. It tightened around the mission like a fist.
Lord Hyrim struggled to his feet. To Doar, he panted, “Did you put out his fire? Hoerkin's fire?”
“No,” Doar said. “It fell when we laid hands upon him.”
“By the Seven!” Hyrim said. “It was you! The Bloodguard! Not the Ranyhyn. This ill force listens to you! — to the power of the Vow!”
The Bloodguard had no answer. The Vow was not something which could be concealed or denied.
But Lord Shetra was surprised. Her strength dropped away from the raft.
At Korik's command, the four steersmen took up their poles, and thrust the raft toward the north bank of the Course. He wished to meet the attack on land, if he could. He made the steersmen responsible for the raft, then called the other Bloodguard to the defence of the Lords.
In that instant, the river erupted. Silently, water blasted upward, hurling the raft into the air, overturning it.
Behind the burst, a black tentacle flicked out of the water. It twisted, coiled, caught Lord Shetra.
Most of the Bloodguard dived clear of the fall of the raft. But Sill and Lord Hyrim were directly under it.
With Pren and Tull, Korik swam for the place where Lord Shetra had been taken. But the dark water blinded them; they could see nothing, find nothing. The river seemed to have no bottom.
Korik made his decision. The mission to Seareach was in his hands. In a tone that allowed no refusal, he ordered the Bloodguard out of the Course.
Soon he stood on the north bank in the fringe of the jungle. Most of the other Bloodguard were with him. Sill and Lord Hyrim had preceded them. The Lord was uninjured; Sill had protected him from the raft.
Downriver, two of the steersmen were tying up the raft, while the other two dove for the company's supplies.
There was no sign of Cerrin and Lord Shetra.
Hyrim was coughing severely-he had swallowed some of the rank water-but he struggled to his feet, and gasped, “Save her!”
But the Bloodguard made no move to obey. The mission to Seareach was in their hands. And they knew that Cerrin was still alive. He could call to them if their aid would be worth the cost.
“I tried,” Hyrim panted. “But I cannot swim. Oh, worthless!” A convulsion came over him. He threw his arms wide and cried out into the rain, “Shetra!” A bolt of power struck from his staff down through the water toward the river bottom. Then he collapsed into Sill's arms.
His blast seemed to have an effect. The river around the point of Lord Shetra's disappearance started to boil. A turmoil in the water sent up gouts of blood and hunks of black flesh. Steam arose from the current. Deep down in the Defiles Course, a flash of blue was briefly visible.
Then a noise like a thunderclap shook the ground. The river hissed like a torment. And the thickness of the air broke. It was swept away as if it had been washed off the Sarangrave.
The Bloodguard knew that Cerrin was dead.
Only one sign came back from Lord Shetra's struggle. Porib saw it first, dove into the river to retrieve it. Silently, he put it into Lord Hyrim’s hands-Lord Shetra's staff.
Between its metal-shod ends, it was completely burned and brittle. It snapped like kindling in Hyrim's grasp.
The Lord pulled away from Sill, and seated himself against a tree. With tears running openly down his cheeks, he hugged the pieces of Shetra's staff to his chest.
But the peril was not ended. For the sake of his Vow, Korik said to the Lord, “The lurker is not dead It has only been cut back here. We must go on.”
“Go?” Hyrim said. “Go on? Shetra is dead. How can I go on? I feared from the first that your Vow was a voice which the evil in the Sarangrave could hear. But I said nothing.” There was bitterness in him. “I believed that you would speak of it if my fear were justified.”
Again the Bloodguard had no answer. They had not known beyond doubt or possibility of error that the lurker was alert to their presence. And so many manifestations of power were not what they appeared to be. In respect for the Lord's grief, the Bloodguard left him alone while they readied the raft to go on their way.
The steersmen had been able to salvage the poles and food, most of the
Then Korik spoke to Runnik, Pren, and Porib, charged them to bear word of the mission to High Lord Elena. The three accepted without question, but waited for the mission's departure before starting their westward trek.
