The Runes of the Earth

“Your people judged him pretty harshly,” she told the Haruchai when she was ready to continue. “He was faithful to Covenant and the Search,” and finally to Linden herself, “for months, and they practically beat him to death. They considered him a failure.”

And Cail had accepted their denunciation.

“But in spite of that,” she went on, “he helped us against the Clave and the Banefire.” Against Gibbon Raver and the na-Mhoram’s Grim. “He didn’t leave us until Covenant put out the Banefire, and we were all safe.”

All but Grimmand Honninscrave, who had given his life to rend samadhi Sheol.

There she stopped. Stave gave no sign that he had understood her answer; that the heritage of his people meant anything to him. Yet he was not done. In the same awkward, ungiving tone, he asked, “When Cail departed from you, where did he go?”

Again Linden restrained an impulse to reach for Covenant’s ring. “Your people called him a failure,” she repeated. “Where else could he go? He went to look for the merewives.”

Their song had planted a glamour in his soul which he had not wished to refuse. Bereft of home and kinship and purpose, he had embarked on a quest for the depths of the sea.

If Stave challenged her further, she feared that she would rage at him. Like all of those who had been lost in the Land’s service, Brinn and Cail deserved more respect than he appeared to give them.

However, he did not demand more answers. Instead he studied her flatly. His mien conveyed an impression of absence, as if he were no longer entirely present in the room. Then without transition he seemed to return. Holding both fists together at the level of his heart with his arms extended, he gave her a formal bow.

“You are Linden Avery the Chosen,” he said uncomfortably, “as you have declared. We do not doubt you.

“Be free among us.” Reaching behind him, he held the curtain aside for her. “Tell us how we may honour your fidelity to ur-Lord Thomas Covenant and your triumph over Corruption’

Sudden relief nearly dropped Linden to her knees. Thank God! She had hardly dared to acknowledge how badly she needed his aid: his, and that of all the Haruchai.

She let her head drop mutely, a bow of her own to repay his acceptance. You need the Staff of Law. Perhaps now she would be able to begin her search.

Scrambling forward, Anele startled her by throwing his arms around her calves. “Free Anele!” he panted. “Oh, free him. They will slay him and name it kindness.”

Linden looked down at his face. Shadows shed by the shifting flame of the lamp seemed to chase a stream of expressions across his visage: terror and hope, disgust, profound bafflement. Light in flickers turned his moonstone eyes to milk.

He must have meant that as a prisoner he would be exposed to a caesure. The Haruchai had never been killers. They fought with transcendent skill: they slew when the exigencies which they served required it. But to harm a forlorn creature like Anele was surely beneath them.

Yet she had promised the old man her care. She could not set aside her word merely because she was weak and in need.

Groaning to herself, she dragged up her head to meet Stave’s gaze.

“You heard him.” The words sighed between her lips. “Honour me by letting him go. He’s just a crazy old man.” A madman rife with secrets and inbred Earthpower. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone.”

Stave regarded her implacably. “Linden Avery,” he replied at last, “we regret that you have asked this of us. We wish to honour you, but in this we will not comply. We have taken upon ourselves the guardianship of the Land. We are its Masters because we cannot preserve the Land from Corruption in any other way. We do not permit such beings as this Anele to work their will. They serve Corruption, whatever they may believe of themselves.”

Anele clung harder to Linden’s legs, breathing in sharp gasps like mouthfuls of dread. If he leaned on her, he would topple her to the floor. Her sense of balance already had too many flaws.

“Anele.” She stooped to him, urged him to ease his grasp. “I won’t leave you. You can trust me.” The thought of freedom blew to dust in her chest. “If the Masters won’t let you go, I won’t go either. I’ll stay with you until they come to their senses.”

She knew the Haruchai too well to believe that they would change their minds.

Anele groaned as if she had betrayed him. Dropping his head, he pressed his face against her shins. However, he loosened his hold slightly; enough to let her keep her feet.

Like a shrug, Stave released the curtain. The leather fell back into place, swaying heavily.

“All right,” Linden told him faintly. “I’m staying here. But I need answers. I’ve been away for a long time. I need to know what’s going on.”

The Haruchai acquiesced with a slight nod.

She still did not know whether she could trust him.

She ached to learn who held the Staff of Law-and why it had apparently lost its effectiveness. But she withheld those questions. First she needed to test Stave as he had tested her; needed to hear him prove himself.

She wobbled for a moment, barely caught herself. “Forgive me,” she breathed as though he might disdain her weakness. “I’m very tired. It’s hard to think.

“What is it about Anele that worries you? Why is it so important to keep him prisoner?”

What harm could the poor old man possibly do?

Stolidly Stave responded, “He is a man of Earthpower.”

“You can see that?” Anele had told her that the Masters were not hampered by Kevin’s Dirt, but she had been suspicious of his sanity.

“You have stood upon Kevin’s Watch, have you not?” the Haruchai replied like a shrug. “We felt the force of wild magic there. From that height, you surely beheld a yellow cloud like a shroud upon the Land. Did it not appear to cloak the Land in evil?” When she nodded, he said, “It is named Kevin’s Dirt. It has blinded the folk of the Land. It deprives them of their”- he seemed to search for a word- “penetration. The life of the Land has been closed to them.

“But we are Haruchai. We retain our discernment. Thus we are able to guard the Land.”

In spite of his mental confusion, Anele had told her the truth-about a number of things.

But Stave’s explanation raised another question. Guard the Land from what? He and his people were strong and fearless; but they had no power to oppose evils like Kevin’s Dirt and the Falls. She was not sure that they could be opposed.

What else threatened the Land?

She kept that fear to herself, however. She did not mean to be distracted from Anele’s plight.

“All right,” she repeated. “He’s full of Earthpower. So what? How does that make him dangerous?”

“We do not know,” Stave admitted. “Yet the Earthpower is his. It cannot be taken from him. Therefore we will not release him.”

“Because you think he might use it someday? What’s wrong with that?”

It was Earthpower, the vital substance of the Land, and infinitely precious.

“You do not comprehend,” the Haruchai informed her dispassionately. “Any use of Earthpower serves Corruption.”

Now Linden stared at him in dismay. “What, Earthpower? You think Earthpower is wrong?”

How could any sentient being consider the spirit and essence of the Land evil?

Straining at her knees, Anele gasped, “Do not permit them! They are fierce and terrible. Can you not see? They will destroy Anele.” Then he cried out, “He is the hope of the Land!”

Convulsively he began to cough as if he were suffocating on sorrow.

Stave ignored the old man. “You are indeed weary, Linden Avery,” he stated. “You have not heard me.