White Gold Wielder

the people Hamako had brought. Rhysh was the Waynhim word for a community; and Covenant had been told that each community usually numbered between one-and twoscore Waynhim who shared a specific interpretation of their racial Weird, their native definition of identity and reason for existence. (This Weird, he remembered, belonged to both the Waynhim and the ur-viles, but was read in vastly different ways.) So he was looking at at least two rhysh. And Bamako had implied that there were more. More communities which had been ripped from home and service by the same terrible necessity that had brought Bamako's rhysh here?

Covenant groaned as he accompanied Hamako into the centre of the cavern.

There the Stonedownor addressed the company again. “I know that the purpose which impels you toward the Land is urgent,” he said in his gentle and pain-familiar voice. “But some little time you can spare among us. The horde of the arghuleh is unruly and advances with no great speed. We offer you sustenance, safety, and rest as well as inquiries”- he looked squarely at Covenant- “and perhaps also answers.“ That suggestion gave another twist to Covenant's tension. He remembered clearly the question Hamako had refused to answer for him. But Hamako had not paused. He was asking, “Will you consent to delay your way a while?”

The First glanced at Covenant. But Covenant had no intention of leaving until he knew more. “Hamako,” he said grimly, “why are you here?”

The loss and resolution behind Hamako's eyes showed that he understood. But he postponed his reply by inviting the company to sit with him on the floor. Then he offered around bowls of the dark, musty vitrim liquid which looked like vitriol and yet gave nourishment like a distillation of aliantha. And when the companions had satisfied their initial hunger and weariness, he spoke as if he had deliberately missed Covenant's meaning.

“Ring-wielder,” he said, “with four other rhysh we have come to give battle to the arghuleh.”

“Battle?” Covenant demanded sharply. He had always known the Waynhim as creatures of peace.

“Yes.” Hamako had travelled a journey to this place which could not be measured in leagues. “That is our intent.”

Covenant started to expostulate. Hamako stopped him with a firm gesture. “Though the Waynhim serve peace,” he said carefully, “they have risen to combat when their Weird required it of them. Thomas Covenant. I have spoken to you concerning that Weird. The Waynhim are made creatures. They have not the justification of birth for their existence, but only the imperfect lores and choices of the Demondim. And from this trunk grow no boughs but two-the way of the ur-viles, who loathe what they are and seek forever power and knowledge to become what they are not, and the way of the Waynhim, who strive to give value to what they are through service to what they are not, to the birth by Law and beauty of the life of the Land. This you know.”

Yes. I know. But Covenant's throat closed as he recalled the manner in which Hamako's rhysh had formerly served its Weird.

“Also you know,” the Stonedownor went on, “that in the time of the great High Lord Mhoram, and of your own last battle against the Despiser, Waynhim saw and accepted the need to wage violence in defence of the Land. It was their foray which opened the path by which the High Lord procured the survival of Revelstone.” His gaze held Covenant's though Covenant could hardly match nun. “Therefore do not accuse us that we have risen to violence again. It is not fault in the Waynhim. It is grief.”

And still he forestalled Covenant's protest, did not answer Covenant's fundamental question. “The Sunbane and the Despiser's malign intent rouse the dark forces of the Earth. Though they act by their own will, they serve his design of destruction. And such a force has come among the arghuleh, mastering their native savagery and sending them like the hand of winter against the Land. We know not the name of that might. It is hidden from the insight of the Waynhim. But we see it And we have gathered in this rhyshyshim to oppose it.”

“How?” the First interposed. “How will you oppose it?” When Hamako turned toward her, she said, “I ask pardon if I intrude on that which does not concern me. But you have given us the gift of our lives, and we have not returned the bare courtesy of our names and knowledge.” Briefly, she introduced her companions. Then she continued, “I am the First of the Search-a Swordmain of the Giants. Battle is my craft and my purpose.” Her countenance was sharp in the firelight “I would share counsel with you concerning this combat”

Hamako nodded. But his reply suggested politeness rather than any hope for help or guidance-the politeness of a man who had looked at his fate and approved of it “In the name of these rhysh, I thank you. Our intent is simple. Many of the Waynhim are now abroad, harrying the arghuleh to lure them hither. In this they succeed. That massed horde we will meet on the outer plain upon the morrow. There the Waynhim will concert their might and strike inward among the ice-beasts, seeking the dark heart of the force which rules them. If we discover that heart-and are equal to its destruction-then will the arghuleh be scattered, becoming once more their own prey.

“If we fail- ” The Stonedownor shrugged. There was no fear in his face. “We will at least weaken that horde sorely ere we die.”

The First was faster than Covenant “Hamako,” she said, “I like this not It is a tactic of desperation. It offers no second hope in event of first failure.”

But Hamako did not waver. “Giant, we are desperate. At our backs lies naught but the Sunbane, and against that ill we are powerless. Wherefore should we desire any second hope? All else has been rent from us. It is enough to strike this blow as best we may.”

The First had no answer for him. Slowly, his gaze left her. returned to Covenant. His brown eyes seemed as soft as weeping-and yet too hard to be daunted. “Because I have been twice bereft,” he said in that kind and unbreachable voice, “I have been granted to stand at the forefront, forging the puissance of five rhysh with my mortal hands.”

Then Covenant saw that now at last be would be allowed to ask his true question; and for an instant his courage failed. How could he bear to hear what had happened to Hamako? Such extravagant human valour came from several sources-and one of them was despair.

But Hamako's eyes held no flinch of self-pity Covenant's companions were watching him, sensitive to the importance of what lay between him and Hamako. Even Mistweave and Honninscrave showed concern; and Linden's visage ached as if Hamako's rue were poignant to her. With a wrench of will, Covenant denied his fear.

“You still haven't told me.” Strain made his tone harsh. “All this is fine. I even understand it.” He was intimately familiar with desperation. In the warmth of the cavern, he had begun to sweat. “But why in the name of every good and beautiful thing you've ever done in your life are you here at all? Even the threat of that many arghuleh can't compare with what you were doing before.”

The bare memory filled his throat with inextricable wonder and sorrow.

Lord Foul had already destroyed virtually all the natural life of the Land. Only Andelain remained, preserved against corruption by Caer-Caveral's power. Everything else that grew by Law or love from seed or egg or birth had been perverted.

Everything except that which Hamako's rhysh had kept alive.

In a cavern which was huge on the scale of lone human beings, but still paltry when measured by the destitution of the Land, the Waynhim had nurtured a garden that contained every kind of grass, shrub, flower, and tree, vine, grain, and vegetable they had been able to find and sustain. And in another cave, in a warren of pens and dens, they had saved as many species of animal as their lore and skill allowed.

It was an incomparable expression of faith in the future, of hope for the time when the Sunbane would be healed and the Land might be dependent upon this one tiny pocket of natural life for its renewal.

And it was gone. From the moment when he had recognized Hamako, Covenant had known the truth. Why else were the Waynhim here, instead of tending to their chosen work?

Useless rage cramped his chest, and his courage felt as brittle as dead bone, as he waited for Hamako's response.

It was slow in coming; but even now the Stonedownor did not waver. “It is as you have feared,” he said softly. “We were driven from our place, and the work of our lives was destroyed.” Then for the first time his voice gave a hint of anger. “Yet you have not feared enough. That ruin did not befall us alone. Across all the Land, every rhysh was beaten from its place and its work. The Waynhim gathered here are all that remain of their race. There will be no more.”