Bannor turned to Covenant. Something in his pose made Covenant flinch as if he expected the Bloodguard to strike him. “You also caused the fall of High Lord Elena,” Bannor said brittlely. “You compelled us to reveal the unspoken name. Yet you did not bear the burden of that name yourself. Therefore the Law of Death was broken, and Elena fell. I did not reproach you then, and do not now. But I say to you: beware, ur-Lord Covenant! You hold too many dooms in your unwell hands.”
“I know that,” muttered Covenant. He was shaking so badly that he had to keep both arms around Lena to support himself. “I know that. It’s the only thing I know for sure.” He could not look at Foamfollower; he was afraid of the Giant’s pain, afraid that the Giant might resent his intervention. Instead, he held onto Lena while his reaction to the strain surged into anger.
”But I’ve had enough of this.” His voice was too violent, but he did not care. He needed some outlet for his passion. “I’m not interested in asking for help anymore. Now I’m going to
“Ask for the moon,” Manethrall Kam muttered.
“Don’t tempt me!” Hot shouts thronged in his throat like fire; he whirled to fling flames at the Manethralls. But their haunted eyes stopped him. They did not deserve his rage. Like Bannor and Foamfollower, they were the victims of the Despiser-the victims of the things he, Thomas Covenant, had not done, had been unwilling or unable to do, for the Land. Again, he could feel the ground on which he stood tremoring.
With an effort, he turned back to Bannor, met the Bloodguard’s aging gaze. “What happened to Elena wasn’t your fault at all,” he mumbled. “She and I-did it together. Or I did it to her.” Then he pushed himself to go to Foamfollower.
But as he moved, Lena caught his arm, swung him around. He had been bracing himself on her without paying any attention to her; now she made him look at her. “Elena-my daughter-what has happened to her?” Horror crackled in her eyes. The next instant, she was clawing at his chest with desperate fingers. “What has happened to her?”
Covenant stared at her. He had half forgotten, he had not wanted to remember that she knew nothing of Elena’s end.
“He said she fell!” she cried at him. “What have you done to her?”
He held her at arm’s length, backed away from her. Suddenly everything was too much for him. Lena, Foamfollower, Bannor, the Ramen-he could not keep a grip on it all at once. He turned his head toward Foamfollower, ignored Lena, and looked dumbly to the Giant for help. But Foamfollower did not even see Covenant’s stricken, silent plea. He was still wrapped in his own pain, struggling to flex his wracked fingers. Covenant lowered his head and turned back toward Lena as if she were a wall against which he had to batter himself.
“She’s dead,” he said thickly. “It’s my fault-she wouldn’t have been in that mess if it hadn’t been for me. I didn’t save her because I didn’t know how.”
He heard shouts behind him, but they made no impression on him. He was watching Lena. Slowly the import of his words penetrated her. “Dead,” she echoed emptily. “Fault.” As Covenant watched her, the light of consciousness in her eyes seemed to falter and go out.
“Lena,” he groaned. “Lena!”
Her gaze did not recognize him. She stared blankly through him as if her soul had lapsed within her.
The shouting behind him mounted. A voice nearby gasped out, “We are betrayed! Ur-viles and Cavewights-! The sentries were slain.”
The urgency in the voice reached him. He turned dully. A young Cord almost chattering with fear stood before the Manethralls and Bannor. Behind her, in the entrance to the covert, fighting had already begun. Covenant could hear the shouts and groans of frantic hand-to-hand combat echoing out of the rift.
The next instant, a tight pack of Cavewights burst into the canyon, whirling huge broadswords in their powerful, spatulate hands. With a shrill roar, they charged the Ramen.
Before Covenant could react, Bannor caught hold of him and Lena, began to drag them both toward the other end of the valley. “Flee,” he said distinctly as he impelled them forward. “The Giant and I will prevent pursuit. We will overtake you-as soon as may be. Flee north, then east.”
The cliffs narrowed until Covenant and Lena stood in the mouth of another cleft through the hills. Banner thrust them in the direction of the dark crevice. ” Make haste. Keep to the left.” Then he was gone, running toward the battle.
Half unconsciously, Covenant checked to be sure that he still had Triock’s knife under his belt. Part of him yearned to run after Banner, to throw himself like Banner into the absolution of the fray-to seek forgiveness.
Clutching hard at Lena’s arm, he drew her with him into the cleft.
Ten: Pariah
AFTER the first bend, even the trailing light of the campfires was cut off, and he could see nothing. Lena moved like a puppet in his grasp-empty and unadept. He wanted her to hold onto him, so that he would have both hands free; but when he wrapped her fingers around his arm, they slipped limply off again. He was forced to grope ahead with his left hand, and retain her with his maimed right. His numbness made him feel at every moment that he was about to lose her.
The shouting pursued him along the crevice, increased his sense of urgency yell by yell. He cursed furiously, trying to keep himself from becoming frantic.
When the rift divided, he followed the left wall. In a few steps, this crevice became so narrow that he had to move along it sideways, pulling Lena after him. Then it began to descend. Soon it was so steep that the mouldering leaves and loam of the floor occasionally shifted under their feet. There the rift became a tunnel. The stone sealed over their heads, while the floor levelled until the ceiling was so close that it made Covenant duck for fear he might crack open his skull. The utter lightlessness of the passage dismayed him. He felt that he was groping his way blindly into the bowels of the earth, felt at every step that the tunnel might pitch him into a chasm. He no longer heard any sound from the canyon; his own loud scrabbling filled his ears. Yet he did not stop. The pressure of his urgency, the pressure of the blind stone impending over the back of his neck, compelled him onward.
Still Lena gave no sign of life. She stumbled, moved at his pull, bumped dumbly against the walls of the tunnel; but her arm in his grasp was inert. He could not even hear her breathing. He tugged her after him as if she were a mindless child.
At last the tunnel ended. Without warning, the stone vanished, and Covenant blundered into a thicket. The stems and branches lashed at him as if he were an enemy. Protecting his eyes with his forearm, he thrust ahead until he found himself on open ground, sweating in the teeth of the wind.
The night was as dank and bitter as ever, but after the pitch blackness of the tunnel he found that he could see vaguely. He and Lena stood below a high, looming bluff. Thickets and brush covered most of its base, but beyond them the ground sloped down barrenly toward the Plains of Ra.
He paused in the scything wind and tried to take stock of the situation. The tunnel from this side was well disguised by the thickets and underbrush, but still the Ramen should have posted sentries here. Where were they? He saw no one, heard nothing but the wind.
He was tempted to call out, but the frigid emptiness of the night restrained him. If the Ramen were defeated, the marauders would have no difficulty following him through the tunnel; Cavewights and ur-viles could take such passages in the dark gleefully. Ur-viles might already be watching him from the thicket.
But Bannor had said that they would overtake him. It’s too late, he muttered to steady his resolve, it’s too late to start worrying about the impossible. It’s all been impossible from the beginning. Just get going. At least get her out of this wind.
