The Runes of the Earth

asked Manethrall Hami, “Is that where we’re going?”

The woman nodded. “The Verge of Wandering lies beyond. There we will attempt to answer the Bloodguard’s doubts-and our own.”

Temporising, Linden inquired, “Can Somo make it?” She was not sure that she could. “It looks rough from here.”

Hami concealed a smile. “We have learned a path among the stones. The mustang will not find it difficult.” Then she looked at Linden and said more gravely, “Your weariness is plain, Ringthane. Your mount will be able to bear you, if you wish it.”

Linden stiffened. “No, thanks,” she muttered. Her weakness the previous day had injured her self- confidence. “If Somo can manage it, I probably can too.”

The Ramen leader nodded. “I do not question it.”

“But tell me something,” Linden went on, “before I start breathing too hard to talk.” She had not forgotten the apparent disingenuousness of Hami’s earlier claim that her people had no communication with or comprehension of the ur-viles.

“If it will ease your way,” the Manethrall replied, “I will answer as I can.”

Her tone conveyed sincerity, although Linden also heard hints of hesitation. The Ramen had their own secrets, which they did not mean to reveal.

Troubled by her sense of unspoken intentions, Linden asked, “How did you know about the kresh?”

Hami gave her a perplexed frown. “Ringthane?”

“It all seems too tidy to me,” Linden explained awkwardly. “I don’t see how you could have known that I was in danger. But you came to my rescue anyway, right when I needed you.

“How did you do that?”

Ah” Hami nodded. “Now I comprehend. Our presence was indeed timely. It need not surprise you, however.

“It is our custom betimes to scout the borders of the Land, seeking some glimpse of what transpires there. Yesterday with my Cords I had elected to keep watch on the Mithil valley, for only there are these mountains readily entered-there, and from the Plains of Ra. Elsewhere the cliffs forbid passage.

“From the heights above the valley, we saw the kresh gather to hunt. We did not know what they hunted. We sought only to assail them when they dared the mountains. That you were their prey we did not discover until we had prepared our ambush.”

Her explanation sounded plausible. Linden would not have questioned it if she had not heard hints of avoidance in the Manethrall’s tone.

She stopped walking so that she would be able to stand her ground. When Hami halted as well, Linden said, “Yet somehow you picked yesterday to be right where I needed you. And so did the ur-viles.

“Don’t misunderstand me,” she added quickly. “I’m grateful. I trust you already. But I’m”- she shrugged uncomfortably- “suspicious of coincidences.”

Lord Foul had taught her that.

She could believe that the ur-viles had known of her presence in the Land, and of her need. Millennia ago, they had recognised that Covenant would return. But nothing about the Ramen suggested that they had such lore.

Cords gathered around her as she waited, but she ignored them; concentrated on Hami.

“You keep saying,” she went on when the Manethrall did not answer, “you don’t speak the ur-viles’ language. But that’s not the whole story, is it? You communicate with them somehow. You have some way of working together.”

“And the Demondim-spawn,” Stave put in harshly, “have ever served Corruption.” He had placed himself at Linden’s shoulder. “They opposed their ancient master in the time of the Sunbane. Yet plainly he did not destroy them, as he appeared to do. Perhaps he preserved them covertly across the centuries, in preparation, it may be, for the return of white gold to the Land.”

Now Linden took notice of the Cords, drawn by the tension emanating from them. When she studied them, she realised that they shared Hami’s secrets; that all of the Ramen knew the things which the Manethrall would not say.

Hami bristled at Stave’s words. Her fingers twitched to take hold of her garrote. Stave faced her impassively, however, unswayed by her indignation.

“Does it offend you, Manethrall, that the Haruchai are not gladdened by your turn to the borders of the Land? That we question your actions and your troth? The” reply to the Chosen’s query. Permit us to judge the nature of your purposes.”

No doubt he could discern the presence of secrets as clearly as Linden did.

Hami gauged him darkly: she seemed eager for combat. But then, distinctly, she closed the door on her ready pride.

“You speak of that which lies beyond you, sleepless one,” she answered like a sigh. “Two days I asked in which to take counsel and seek comprehension. This you accepted. Therefore there can be no contest between us. You are safe among the Ramen. We will permit no harm to you, or to your companions.

“Nor will we take offense. To provoke us is unseemly. Such impatience ill becomes you.”

Stave regarded Hami for a moment, apparently appraising her. Then he surprised Linden by bowing as he had in the rift.

“I hear you, Manethrall. I will be patient, as I have agreed. I have named the causes of my doubt. But know also that I am grieved to encounter the Ramen after so many generations, and to be denied knowledge of the Ranyhyn.

“You misjudge the Bloodguard. They did not ride Ranyhyn to their deaths, as you avow. Rather they accepted service which the Ranyhyn offered freely. No life or power in all the Land was honoured or loved more highly than that of the great horses.”

Again Hami did not return his bow. Instead she retorted, “The Bloodguard might have refused that service. The Ringthane did so. Yet he prevailed.”

Then she returned her attention to Linden’s question.

“As for the timeliness of our aid,” she answered like a shrug, “it is no great wonder. We were drawn to the region of the Mithil valley by the fall of Kevin’s Watch. I have said that we scout the borders of the Land. Such destruction could not escape our notice.”

Without another word, she turned away, leading her Cords on toward the base of the arete.

Linden wanted to stay where she was. The animosity between Stave and the Ramen disturbed her. Their every exchange was fraught with history; with memories and passions which she had not shared and could not evaluate. She did not know what to expect from them.

But the Ramen were moving, and so she followed them. She could not afford the severity which seemed to rule Stave and Hami.

At once, Liand came to her side, radiating confusion like heat. However, he waited until she acknowledged him with a glance before he murmured privately, “I do not understand. What troubles the Master? Can he not descry the worth of the Ramen?”

“Sure, he can,” Linden replied softly. “It isn’t their honesty he’s worried about. It’s their secrets.”

The Stonedownor looked surprised; but he did not contradict her. Perhaps he, too, had felt the undercurrents in Hami and her Cords. Instead he mused as if to himself, “l had not known that the Masters are capable of grief.”

Linden sighed, “Of course they are.” If they had not felt love or known loss, they would not have sworn the Vow which had bound them to the service of the Lords. They’re just too strict to admit it most of the time.”

Liand frowned. “Does that account for their denial of the Land’s history and wonder? Do they fear to grieve?”

Linden looked at him sharply. “Maybe.” She had not thought of Stave’s people in those terms. “I don’t know anything about Ranyhyn, but it’s obvious they were precious to the Haruchai. Stave is afraid something terrible has happened to them.”

The young man kept her company in silence for a while. Then he said slowly, “I do not believe so. I know