The Runes of the Earth

walk so far? Does your heart hold other troubles to delay you?”

Two leagues, Linden thought. Six miles? On even ground, with aliantha in her veins-She attempted a smile; failed. “I think I can make it. I need all the counsel I can get.” of time but

She had enough other troubles in her heart to delay her until the end she did not mean to let them hold her back.

Fortunately several of the Cords travelled ahead of her, and she found that if she followed in their steps the grass did not hinder her. Somo could have borne her easily now-Liand offered her that-but she preferred to keep her burdens to herself.

She needed time to think; to prepare for what lay ahead.

At first, the distance passed easily. Aliantha sustained her, and the vernal grassland itself seemed to lift her from stride to stride. Every instance of health and Earthpower nourished her in some way. For a time, she watched the mood of the mountains modulate as the westering sun shifted shadows across them. When she encountered the occasional bursts of amanibhavam, she studied their dancing yellow flowers and their sharp scent, trying to understand their potency.

By degrees, however, she lapsed to numbness again. Step after step, her walking became a kind of ambulant doze. Guided by the Ramen, she made her slow way toward the centre of the Verge of Wandering, and did not notice how far she had come.

Yet around her more and more Ramen appeared out of the grass, answering the summons of Hami’s Cords. From the crest of the arete, Linden might have believed the vale empty, but it was not. When she finally shook herself out of her somnolence, she found that perhaps three score Ramen had joined her companions. Most of them were Cords, garrotes at their waists, hair flying loose; but three or four wore their hair as Hami did, tied back by their garrotes, and around their necks were garlands of amanibhavam.

And still more of them merged with the company as Linden took note of them. Soon they became a throng among the grass. Yet somehow they sifted through it rather than trampling it down. In spite of their numbers, she could hardly tell where they had been.

She had not expected to find so many of them thriving here: five or six score now, with more continuing to arrive. Before long, however, she noticed that they had no children among them-and no old men or women. Two or three of the Manethralls had grey in their hair, and their scars had acquired the pallor of years. A certain number of the Cords appeared older than those who followed Hami. But no children? No grandmothers or grandfathers?

Either the Ramen were dying as a people, or they had left all those who could not fight elsewhere.

Or both.

What had happened to them during their centuries of exile from the Land?

Linden might have questioned Hami then, although the Manethrall had made it plain that she did not wish to speak prematurely. But as Linden’s concern grew, she caught her first glimpse of their destination.

It appeared to be a dwelling of some kind, a tall, open-sided construct planted in the grass. Bare poles at the corners, and at intervals along the sides, supported a latticed ceiling of smaller wooden shafts like latias; and sod had been placed over the lattice to form a roof of deep grass. Within this shelter lay mounds of grass and bracken, and a scattering of bundles like bedrolls; and at its centre a space had been cleared for a ring of hearthstones and a cooking fire.

Two Cords tended the fire, apparently preparing a meal, while others came forward with their Manethrall to join the Ramen around Linden.

And beyond this dwelling stood others, she could not see how many, all with open sides and sod roofs. Now she knew why she had not been able to spot any structures from the vantage of the ridge: their design camouflaged them.

Yet the vale was treeless. The Ramen must have dragged their poles and latias from somewhere beyond the surrounding mountains. Presumably, then, the camp was not a temporary one, but rather a habitation either permanently or regularly occupied.

Still Linden saw no children; no aged Ramen.

Moving between the shelters, Hami and the Ramen escorted Linden, Liand, Stave, and Anele into a broad open circle where the grass had been worn to stubble and dirt by the passage of many feet. This clearing might have been visible from the ridge: it was certainly wide enough to stand out from the surrounding grass. The height of the shelters around it must have concealed it.

At the edge of the circle, Cords led Somo aside, promising to tend the pinto well; and Linden and her companions were invited into the centre of the clearing.

“This, Ringthane,” Hami announced quietly, “is the Ramen place of gathering. Here we will share food so that you may rest and regain your strength. In this way, we hope to encourage ease between us. Then we will take counsel after the fashion of the Ramen. We will speak of ourselves, and you will tell us your tales, that there may be friendship between us.”

Linden began to acquiesce automatically; but the Manethrall forestalled her. The crowd around her had shifted. All of the Cords had withdrawn to the rim of the clearing taking Anele with them. Only Manethralls surrounded Linden and her companions

“But above all there must be understanding,” Hami said more sternly, as if she spoke for all her people. “You will also be challenged. Thus we will distinguish honour from treachery.”

Oh, God. An involuntary wince twisted Linden’s mouth.

Liand turned to her in alarm: obviously he had not expected this of the Ramen.

Stave opened his mouth to protest; but Hami stopped him with a harsh gesture. Still addressing Linden, she said, “We desire friendship with you, Ringthane. You have been hunted by kresh, and have eaten aliantha. Of your own spirit and lore, you have brought Cord Sahah back from death when we could not. Also you bear that which commands respect, a ring of white fire such as Thomas Covenant wielded against the Render. If friendship is ours to give, we will offer it gladly.”

Linden did not react. Challenged? Treachery? Had she been stalked to this? Exposed to it by Anele’s compelled silence?

Who here had tried to prevent Anele from speaking?

“To Liand of Mithil Stonedown as well,” the Manethrall continued, “we mean no harm. We see that he is honest, though he has little skill. It would please us to welcome him without mistrust.”

Liand watched Hami anxiously, his eyes full of conflicted reactions.

The Manethralls glanced at him as Hami said his name, then returned their attention to Linden. They studied her in silence, sombrely, as if they were prepared to pass judgment.

Finally Hami indicated the Haruchai with a nod.

“In your name, Ringthane, we would welcome Stave of the Bloodguard also. Our grievance against his kind is ancient and enduring. Yet the Bloodguard were long Fangthane’s foes, until they were twisted from fealty. For that reason, we do not wish to spurn him, though the sleepless ones have become Masters now, diminishing the people of the Land.”

Stave faced the Manethralls without expression. Linden could not read his emotions, but his aura felt as blunt and uncompromising as knuckles.

Still she did not speak. For no clear reason, she found herself wondering if any ur-viles occupied the valley. Had those dark creatures played some role in the attitude of the Ramen? What was the connection between them? – the connection that Hami sought to conceal.

The woman met Linden’s apprehension steadily.

“Yet I must say plainly that if you do not answer our challenges, all of the Ramen will stand against you.” Her voice carried the sound of implied nickering. “If you attempt no harm, you will be offered none. We will care for you as kindly as we may. But you will not be permitted to depart from us. Whether you wish it or no, we will retain you with us, that there may be no hazard of betrayal to the Land.”

There the Manethrall paused, apparently awaiting a response.

Stave allowed himself a disdainful snort. “You are false with us, Manethrall. When You persuaded us to this place, you said nothing of challenges.”

“Master,” retorted Hami, “the past of the Bloodguard flows in your veins. How did you imagine that we