The One Tree

clinging among the barnacles. Together they wrested it from the hull, bearing it with them to the surface. But Sevinhand instantly commanded them to discard it. Therefore they cast it to the pier, where it became an exploding fire which wrought great damage-though not to Starfare's Gem.”

In grim irony, he continued, 'To my mind, it is somewhat odd that no man or woman from all Bhrathairain came to consider the cause of that blast.“ Then he shrugged. ”Nonetheless, Sevinhand's caution was not appeased. At his word, Galewrath Storesmaster and others explored all the outward faces of the Giantship with their hands, seeking further perils. None were found.

“In the dawn,” he concluded, “I came in search of you. Without hindrance I was admitted to the First Circinate. But there I was given to understand”-he grimaced wryly-“that I must await you.” His eyes softened as he regarded the First. 'The wait was long to me.'

Honninscrave could not contain himself. He stepped forward, required the First to look at him. “We must return to Starfare's Gem.” He was urgent for his ship. “We must flee this Harbour. It is intolerable that my dromond should fall prey to these Bhrathair- and I here helpless.”

The First replied darkly, “Yes.” But she retained her command over him. “Yet the Chosen is not done. Grimmand Honninscrave, relate to Pitchwife what has transpired among us here.”

For a moment, the Master's visage knotted as if her order were cruel. But it was not: it gave him a way to contain his apprehension. He scowled like a fist, and his beard bristled with ire; but he obeyed. In words like the pieces of the gaddhi's medallion, he told Pitchwife what had happened.

Linden listened to him as she had to Pitchwife and clasped her promises within her. While Seadreamer supported Ceer's leg, she spread medicaments over his thigh and knee. Then she cut the linen into strips for bandages. Her hands did not hesitate. When she had wrapped his leg from midthigh to calf in firm layers of cloth, she reset the splints.

After that, she had Seadreamer lift Ceer into a sitting position while she strapped his shoulder to stabilize it. The Haruchai's eyes were glazed with pain; but his mien remained as stolid as ever. When she was done with his shoulder, she lifted a flagon of diluted wine to his mouth and did not lower it until he had replaced a good measure of the fluid he had lost.

And all the time Honninscrave's words reached her ears starkly, adumbrating Hergrom's death until she seemed to relive it while she tended Ceer. The stubborn extravagance or gallantry of the Haruchai left her overtaut and certain. When the Master finished, she was ready.

Pitchwife was groping to take in everything he had heard. “This gaddhi” he murmured in fragments. “As you have described him. Is he capable of enacting such a chicane?”

Linden rose to her feet. Though his question had not been directed at her, she answered, “No.”

He looked at her, strove for comprehension. “Then-”

“It was Kasreyn from the beginning.” She bit out the words. “He controls everything, even when Rant Absolain doesn't realize it. He must have told the gaddhi exactly what to do. To get Hergrom killed. And he doesn't want us to know it,” she went on. “He wants us to be afraid of Rant Absolain instead of him. He failed with Covenant once. He's trying to get another chance. Maybe he thinks we'll ask him to save us from the gaddhi.”

“We must flee this place,” Honninscrave insisted.

Linden did not look at him. She faced the First. “I've got a better idea. Let's go to Rant Absolain. Ask his permission to leave.”

The First gauged Linden with her iron gaze. “Will he grant us that?”

Linden shrugged. “It's worth a try.” She was prepared for that eventuality as well.

With an inward leap, the First made her decision. Pitchwife's presence, and the prospect of action, seemed to restore her to herself. Striding out into the corridor, she shouted to the Guards that waited within earshot, “Summon the Caitiffin Rire Grist! We must speak with him!”

Linden could not relax the over-tension of her nerves. The bruises Cail had left on her upper arm throbbed like a demand.

When she met the First's gaze again, they understood each other.

The Caitiffin returned shortly. Behind the desert-tan of his face lay a suggestion of pallor, as if he had not had time to consult with his master-or perhaps had been refused a hearing. His manner had ragged edges, betraying glimpses of strain.

But the First had recovered her certainty, and she met him with steady composure. “Rire Grist,” she said as if he had nothing to fear from her, “we desire an audience with the gaddhi.”

At that, his cheeks blanched unmistakably. Words tumbled out of him. 'My friends, let me dissuade you. Assuredly the loss of one comrade and the injury of another are sore to you-but you are unwise to hazard further offense to the gaddhi. He is sovereign here, and jealous. You must not task him for what he has done. Having obtained the punishment he sought, he is now perhaps inclined to be magnanimous. But if you dare his ill-favour, he will take umbrage swiftly, to your cost.'

He began to repeat himself, then jerked to a halt. Clearly, Kasreyn had not prepared him for this dilemma. Sweat spread around his eyes as he forced himself to meet the First's scrutiny.

She was unruffled. “Caitiffin, we have taken decision among ourselves to respect the gaddhi's right of punishment.” Linden felt the lie under the fiat surface of the words, but she saw that Rire Grist did not. “We are grieved for our companions, but we will not presume to judge your sovereign.” The First permitted herself a subtle inflection of contempt, “Be assured that we will offer the gaddhi no offense. We desire merely to ask a frank boon of him-one easily within his grant and plainly honourable to him.”

For a moment, the Caitiffin's eyes shifted back and forth, searching for a way to inquire what that boon was. But then he grasped that she did not mean to tell him. As he wiped a discomfited hand across his forehead, he looked like a man for whom a lifetime of ambition had begun to crumble. Yet he remained tough enough to act. Striving to contain his uncertainty, he answered, “It is rare for the gaddhi to grant audience at such a time. But for his guests he may perhaps make exception. Will you accompany me?”

When the First nodded, he turned as if he wanted to flee and left the chamber.

Quickly, she looked at her companions. None of them hesitated. Seadreamer lifted Ceer from the cushions. Brinn took hold of Covenant's arm. Honninscrave moved forward tightly, holding his emotions in both fists.

Vain remained as blank as ever; and Findail seemed to be entranced by his own distress. But neither of them lingered behind the company.

Linden led them after Rire Grist.

She followed him closely, with Cail and then the others behind her. She wanted to ensure that the Caitiffin had as little opportunity as possible to prepare surprises. She could not prevent the brackish shout he directed at the first hustin he met, sending two of them at a run ahead of him; but she saw no cunning in the set of his back, heard no duplicity in the tone of his voice. When he informed her over his shoulder that he had told the Guards to bear the company's request to Rant Absolain, she was able to believe him. Whatever hopes he had left did not require him to betray the quest now.

He led the company directly upward through the Tier of Riches to The Majesty. As Linden ascended into the audience-hall, she found everything arranged as it had been during the company's initial presentation to the gaddhi: scores of Guards were stationed around the wall; and all the light was focused toward the high Auspice. Only the Chatelaine were missing. Their absence made her realize that she had not seen any of them since the previous day. She grew tighter. Were they simply staying out of harm's way? — or had they been commanded into seclusion so that they would not interfere with Kasreyn's machinations?

The Caitiffin spoke to one of the hustin and received an answer which relieved him. He faced the company with a smile. “The gaddhi elects to grant you audience.”

Linden and the First shared a moment of preparation. Then they followed Rire Grist across the circles of the floor toward the Auspice.

In the zone of light, they stopped beside him. The Auspice lifted its magnificence into the lumination as if it were more truly the suzerain of Bhrathairealm than Rant Absolain himself.