White Gold Wielder

the mouth that speaks. The quest for the One Tree has brought to us many aghast and heart-cruel tales, and we have not always heard them well. Yet are we here-sorely scathed, it may be”- he glanced at Honninscrave- “but not wholly daunted. Do not scruple to grant us a part in your hurt.”

For a moment, Sunder covered his face as if he were weeping again. But when he dropped his hands, his fundamental gall was bright in his eyes.

“Hear me, then,” he said stiffly. “Departing Seareach, we bore with us the krill of Loric and the ur-Lord's trust. In my heart were hope and purpose, and I had learned a new love when all the old were dead.” All slain: his father by murder, his mother by necessity, his wife and son by his own hand. “Therefore I believed that we would be believed when we spoke our message of defiance among the villages.

“From The Grieve, we wended north as well as west, seeking a way to the Upper Land which would not expose us to the lurker-bourne of Sarangrave Flat.” And that part of the journey had been a pleasure, for they were alone together except for Stell and Harn; and Seareach from its coast to its high hills and the surviving remnant of Giant Woods had never been touched by the Sunbane. Uncertainty had clouded their earlier traversal of this region; but now they saw it as a beautiful land in the height of its fall glory, tasted the transforming savour of woodlands and animals, birds and flowers. The Clave taught that the Land had been created as a place of punishment, a gallow-fells, for human evil. But Covenant had repudiated that teaching; and in Seareach for the first time Sunder and Hollian began to comprehend what the Unbeliever meant.

So their purpose against the Clave grew clearer; and at last they dared the northern reaches of the Sarangrave in order to begin their work without more delay.

Climbing Landsdrop, they re-entered the pale of the Sunbane.

The task of finding villages was not easy. They had no maps and were unacquainted with the scope of the Land. But eventually the far-sighted Haruchai spotted a Rider; and that red-robed woman unwittingly led the travellers to their first destination-a small Woodhelven crouched in a gully among old hills.

“Far Woodhelven did not entirely welcome us,” muttered the Graveler sourly.

“The Rider took from them their youngest and their best,” Hollian explained. “And not in the former manner. Always the Clave has exercised caution in its demands, for if the people were decimated where would the Riders turn for blood? But with the foreshortening of the Sunbane such husbandry was set aside. Riders accosted each village with doubled and trebled frequency, requiring every life that their Coursers might bear.”

“Deprived of the Haruchai which you redeemed,” Sunder added to Covenant, “the Riders turned from their accustomed harvestry to outright ravage. If the tales we have heard do not mislead us, this ravage commenced at the time of our seaward passage from the Upper Land into Sarangrave Flat. The na-Mhoram read us in the rukh which I then bore, and he knew you were gone into a peril from which you could not strike at him.” The Graveler spoke as if he knew how Covenant would take this news-how Covenant would blame himself for not giving battle to the Clave earlier. 'Therefore what need had he for any caution?”

Covenant flinched inwardly; but he clung to what the Stonedownors were saying, forced himself to hear it.

“When we entered Far Woodhelven,” the eh-brand went on, “they were reduced to elders and invalids and bitterness. How should they have welcomed us? They saw us only as blood with which they might purchase a period of survival.”

Sunder glared into the fire, his eyes as hard as polished stones. “That violence I forestalled. Using the krill of Loric and the orcrest Sunstone, I raised water and ussusimiel without bloodshed under a desert sun. Such power was an astonishment to them. Thus when I had done they were ready to hear whatever words we might speak against the Clave. But what meaning could our speech have to them? What opposition remained possible to the remnant of their village? They were too much reduced to do aught but huddle in their homes and strive for bare life. We did not altogether fail,” he rasped, 'but I know no other name for that which we accomplished.”

Hollian put a gentle hand on his arm. The rain roared on outside the cave. Water trickled constantly past Covenant's legs. But he ignored the wet, closed his mind to the fierce and useless regret rising like venom from the pit of his stomach. Later he would let himself feel the sheer dismay of what he had unleashed upon the Land. Right now he needed to listen.

“One thing we gained from Far Woodhelven,” the eh-brand continued. “They gave us knowledge of a Stonedown lying to the west. We were not required to make search for the opportunity to attempt our purpose a second time.”

“Oh, forsooth!” Sunder snarled. Bafflement and rage mounted within him. “That knowledge they gave us. Such knowledge is easily ceded. From that day to this, we. have not been required to make any search. The failure of each village has led us onward. As we passed ever westward, nearer to Revelstone, each Woodhelven and Stonedown became more arduous of suasion, for the greater proximity of the na-Mhoram's Keep taught a greater fear. Yet always the gifts of krill and Sunstone and lianar obtained for us some measure of welcome. But those folk no longer possessed blood enough to sustain their fear-and so also they lacked blood for resistance. Their only answer to our gifts and words was their knowledge of other villages.

“Thomas Covenant,” he said suddenly, “this is bile to me-but I would not be misheard. Betimes from village to village we happened upon a man or a woman young and hale enough to have offered other aid-and yet unwilling. We encountered folk for whom it was inconceivable that any man or woman might love the Land. Upon occasion our lives were attempted, for what dying people would not covet the powers we bore? Then only the prowess of the Haruchai preserved us. Yet in the main we were given no other gift because no other gift was possible. I have learned a great bitterness which I know not how to sweet-but the blame of it does not fall upon the people of the Land. I would not have believed that the bare life of any village could suffer so much loss and still endure.”

For a moment, he fell silent; and the battering sound of the rain ran through the cave. He had placed his hand over Hollian's; the force of his grip corded the backs of his knuckles. He was no taller than Linden, but his stature could not be measured by size. To Covenant, he appeared as thwarted and dangerous as Berek Halfhand had been on the slopes of Mount Thunder, when the ancient hero and Lord-Fatherer had at last set his hand to the Earthpower.

The silence was like the muffled barrage of the storm The Clave had already shed a heinous amount of blood-yet too many lives remained at stake, and Covenant did not know how to protect them. Needing support, he looked toward Linden. But she did not notice his gaze. Her head was up, her eyes keen, as if she were scenting the air, tracing a tension or peril he could not discern.

He glanced at the Giants. But Honninscrave's orbs were hidden beneath the clenched fist of his brows; and Mistweave, Pitchwife, and the First were fixed dh the Stonedownors.

At the mouth of the cave, Cail raised' one arm as though in spite of his native dispassion he wished to make a gesture of protest. But then he lowered his hand back to his side.

Abruptly, Sunder began speaking again. “Only one village did not accord to us even that chimera of a gift-and it was the last.” His voice was knotted and rough. “From it we have lately come, retracing our way because we had no more hope.

“Our path from village to village led us westward in a crescent line, so that we passed to the east of Revelstone wending toward the north-toward a place which named itself Landsverge Stonedown. The Woodhelven giving us that knowledge lay perilously nigh the Keep of the na-Mhoram, but Landsverge Stonedown was nigher-and therefore we feared its fear of the Clave would be too great to be countered. Yet when we gained the village, we learned that it would never suffer such fear again.”

He paused, then growled, “It was altogether empty of life.

The Riders had gutted it entirely, borne every beating heart away to feed the Banefire. Not one child or cripple remained to be consumed by the Sunbane.”

After that, he stopped-gripped himself still as if he would not be able to say another word without howling.

HoIIian gave him a sad hug. “We knew not where to turn,” she said, “so we returned eastward. It was our thought that we must avoid the grasp of the Clave and await you-for surely the Unbeliever and white gold wielder would not fail of his quest”- her tone was candid, but free of sarcasm or accusation- “and when he came he would come from the east. In that, at least, we were blessed. Far sooner than we had dared desire, the