Thomas Covenant 8 - The Fatal Revenant (41 page)

At all times, Covenant kept his right hand hidden in his pocket. Linden supposed that he did so in order to conceal his one resemblance to Berek Halfhand. But she felt sure that his caution was wasted. With his awakened senses, Berek must have discerned the truth for himself.

Jeremiah also was a halfhand, although he had lost different fingers. Legends might grow from such small details

By the end of the third day, Linden reached the limit of her endurance. Yellinin’s emotional plight nagged at her like a bad tooth: she was acutely aware of the slow erosion which wore the outrider’s determination down to bereavement. Nor could she ignore the leaden distress of the horses. And the questions that she needed to ask her companions were becoming a form of torment: as bitter as the cold, and as relentless.

In addition, she felt a grinding anxiety for Jeremiah. According to Yellinin, the riders had covered no more than twenty-five leagues when the sun set on the third day. Measured by the necessity of ascending among the Westron Mountains in order to avoid Garroting Deep, their progress was paltry. At this rate, Covenant and Jeremiah would never attain their goal. The horses would not survive: Linden was sure of that. If she could not sustain herself with Earthpower, she

herself would fail long before she caught sight of Melenkurion Skyweir.

Her son would be Lord Foul’s prisoner forever.

That night, as she faded shivering toward sleep, she realized that most of her decisions in this time had been inspired by cold; predicated on the brutality of winter. She had chosen to trek toward Berek’s camp because she was freezing and could not think of an

alternative. But when she had achieved her aim-horses, blankets, food-she had accomplished nothing. The journey ahead of her was still impossible, just as it had been four days ago. Yellinin and her mounts were giving as much help as their worn flesh allowed, and it was not enough.

Linden had already watched too many innocents suffer and die for her sake.

Now the cold required another decision

of her. She had to accept that her choices had been proven inadequate; that the obstacles in her road were not ones which she could surmount. The time had come to admit that she was too weak to carry the burden of Jeremiah’s need, and the Land’s. This winter demanded more strength than she possessed.

Therefore she would have to find a way to trust Covenant.

The next morning, when she struggled out of the scant warmth of her blankets, she learned that two of the horses had died during the night: Covenant’s mount, and Jeremiah’s. Then she could no longer deny the truth. The cold had beaten her. If bearing her companions killed just two horses every three days-and if there were no storms-and if the terrain did not become more demandingŹYellinin’s dogged aid would nonetheless cease to serve any

purpose long before the Last Hills merged with the mountains.

Coughing at the bite of ice in her lungs, Linden gathered what warmth she could from the campfire while Berek’s warrior cooked a breakfast of gruel laced with fruit. She took as much time as she needed to eat what she believed would be her last hot meal. For a while, she held her robe open to the flames, hoping that the fur would absorb enough heat to preserve her. Then,

when Yellinin had prepared mounts for the riders, and had withdrawn to ready the remaining horses, Linden quietly asked Covenant and Jeremiah to ride ahead without her.

To answer Covenant’s vexation and Jeremiah’s alarm, she explained, “I need a little distance so that I can use my Staff. Don’t worry, I’ll catch up with you.” She could hardly miss their trail through the hard snow. “I want Yellinin to turn back. But convincing her

probably won’t be easy. I’ll have to show her that we don’t need her, and for that-“

Linden indicated the Staff with a shrug.

“It’s about time,” muttered Covenant as if he had expected her to make up her mind days ago. “Just don’t trust her. Berek didn’t send her out here to help us. He wants her to warn him if we double back. Hell, he probably has scouts on our trail right now, just in

case we kill her and try to take him by surprise.”

Staring at him, Linden felt a slash of yearning for the Thomas Covenant of her memories. Surely he could see that Yellinin was dying to return to her people? But she did not argue. Her suspicions ran too deep. If she challenged him, she would make him wary; and then she would lose any possibility that he might reveal the truth about himself.

“Just go,” she urged him stiffly. “And brace yourself. I’ll take care of Yellinin.”

Jeremiah attempted an unconvincing smile. “Thanks, Mom. You’re doing the right thing.” To Covenant, he added. “The Theomach won’t object. He trusts her now.”

“I know,” Covenant sighed as he and Jeremiah mounted their new horses. “I’m just too bloody frustrated to be gracious about it. This is our fifth day,

and were still nowhere near

Melenkurion Skyweir. These damn delays are killing me.”

Rolling its eyes, Jeremiah’s mount flinched. Covenant’s emaciated mustang stumbled awkwardly. But they kept their seats. In moments, they rode out of sight around the curve of a hill.

Linden remained where she was, clinging to the last of the campfire while she waited for Yellinin.

When the other horses were ready, the outrider walked grimly toward Linden. Daylight emphasized her years as well as her weariness: she seemed old for a warrior, aged by interminable seasons of battle and injury. And her eyes betrayed her uneasiness. Clearly she had guessed why Linden had stayed behind to talk to her; and her heart was torn. Her devotion to Berek’s commands vied with a vivid ache for her comrades and her cause. Studying her, Linden recognized her reluctance

to die for people who refused to reveal either their loyalties or their purposes.

When Linden did not speak at once, Yellinin asked cautiously. “What transpires, my lady? Why have your companions departed?”

In the outrider’s tone, Linden heard that Covenant had named at least one aspect of the woman’s dilemma. Yellinin was worried that Covenant and Jeremiah, if not Linden herself, might

still pose some inexplicable threat to Berek’s army.

“I need distance,” Linden replied in wisps of vapor. “I’m going to use my Staff. That’s dangerous for them.” And for herself: without Covenant and Jeremiah, she would be stranded in this time. “If they’re far enough away, they’ll be safe.”

Yellinin frowned. “My lady, you know that I have been commanded to

question nothing. Yet it may be that I will fail in my duty if I do not speak. Therefore I ask what use you will make of your fire.”

“Two things.” Linden could not bring herself to say, I don’t want you to throw your life away. “With your permission, I’ll do what I can to make you and your horses stronger. And I hope that I can persuade you to rejoin Lord Berek.”

Before Yellinin could object, Linden

said, “You and your horses have already suffered too much. No matter what I do, they won’t last much longer. And we don’t need you to guide us. Covenant knows the way.

“I want you to pack three horses with as much food as they can carry. I’ll ride one and lead the others. We’ll send the mounts that Covenant and Jeremiah have now back to you. Then I want you to leave. Tell Lord Berek that I sent you away because you’ve already done

more for us than we had any right to ask.”

Yellinin set her jaw in spite of her tangible wish to comply. “My lord Berek’s command was plain.”

“I know.” Linden sighed a gust of steam. The dying embers of the campfire no longer warmed her. She closed her robe to hold in as much heat as she could. In the cold, her face felt stiff with renunciation. “And he

expects to be obeyed. But something else about him is plain as well. If he could think of a way to win his war without sacrificing any more lives, he would do it in a heartbeat. He doesn’t want you to die, Yellinin.”

Earnestly Linden said. “Once I use my Staff, you should be able to do what Krenwill does. You’ll hear truth. Then you won’t have to worry about what Covenant and Jeremiah and I have in mind. You’ll believe me when I say that

they don’t want to turn back-and I wouldn’t allow it if they did.”

Yellinin made a visible effort to stifle her yearning. “Then I will accept the hazard of your fire, my lady. For the sake of the horses, if for no other cause, I cannot refuse.

“But I will not consent to part from you,” she added dourly. “I have not experienced Krenwill’s discernment. I cannot be certain of its worth.”

Linden studied Yellinin for a moment longer, measuring the quality of the outrider’s torn desires. When she felt sure that her companions had ridden far enough to protect themselves, she closed her eyes and caused gentle Earthpower to bloom like cornflowers and forsythia from the apt wood of the Staff.

Enclosed in fire, Yellinin could not conceal her amazement at the fundamental healing and sustenance

of Law. Her first taste of percipience as she watched her horses gain new vitality filled her with shock and wonder. Her own abused flesh was soothed in ways which she had never experienced before. Now she could understand the true nature of the forces which had transformed Berek Halfhand. And her heart belonged to him, in spite of her gratitude for Linden’s gift. When the flames subsided, and Yellinin heard the truth of Linden’s assurances, her resistance

slowly faded.

Glowing with gladness, she gave Linden her consent; her eager cooperation. As soon as she had rearranged the burdens of the beasts as Linden had requested, she tapped the breastplate of her cuirass in salute. Then she stood at attention while Linden mounted and gathered up the reins of the other horses.

Linden believed that she was doing the

right thing; that she could not have justified any other choice. Nevertheless the outrider’s attitude exacerbated her own sense of isolation. She seemed to be leaving behind her last ally as she rode away alone.

On a completely irrational level, she wished that Berek had come with her. She needed someone of his stature to help her face the conundrum of Covenant and Jeremiah.

The renewed vigor of her mounts allowed Linden to pursue her companions at a canter. She caught up with them within half a league.

Apparently Jeremiah had been

watching for her. As she approached, he turned almost immediately to Covenant; and at once, they reined in to wait for her.

Neither of them spoke to her. They seemed to know without explanation what she had done. When she had joined them, Jeremiah said diffidently to Covenant, We should change horses right away. If we keep Yellinin waiting, she might change her mind. And well be able to travel faster -he glanced at the mounts with Linden-“at least for a while.”

“Sure.” Covenant sounded almost amiable, as if the outrider’s absence

eased his frustration. “Let’s do it.”

Together, he and Jeremiah

dismounted, turned their horses back the way they had come, and slapped them into motion. The beasts trotted off promptly, relieved to escape their riders. Their energy would not last: that was obvious. But Linden had confidence that Yellinin would care for them. Berek’s army could not afford to lose mounts unnecessarily.

Jeremiah reached the saddle of his fresh horse without much difficulty, although the beast’s sides quivered fretfully at his touch. But Covenant’s mount shied away whenever he tried to step up into the stirrup. Swearing almost cheerfully, he maneuvered the horse against Jeremiah’s so that it could not evade him. Then he swung himself into the seat with a fierce grin.

The instinctive repugnance of the beasts for Covenant and Jeremiah

disturbed Linden. And releasing

Yellinin did not make her feel any less helpless. She still could not imagine how any of them would survive to reach Melenkurion Skyweir.

For the time being, however, she kept her many questions to herself. The relentless cold numbed her thoughts; sapped her will. It was rife with implications of failure. And she did not know what had caused the change in Covenant’s manner. Yellinin’s absence

seemed to free him from some unexplained constraint.

As Linden and her companions resumed their plod northwestward through the raw and glistening winter along the margin of the Last Hills, Jeremiah rode on her right, between her and Covenant. Since their departure from Berek’s camp, his wound had healed completely: she could see the twitch at the corner of his eye signaling. However, its

indecipherable message had lost some of its urgency. Like Covenant’s, Jeremiah’s spirits had lifted.

After a while, he asked Covenant. “How much longer do you think well have to do this’?” His tone suggested that he already knew the answer; that he had posed the question for Linden’s sake.

“Today,” Covenant answered casually. “Maybe tomorrow.” He did not glance

at Linden. “After that we should be safe enough.”

“Safe’?” Linden inquired. The idea that any form of safety might be possible in this winter seemed inconceivable.

“From the Theomach,” explained Jeremiah. He sounded cheerful. “So far, we’re doing things his way. We aren’t attracting any attention. We haven’t violated what people know about this time. But we’re traveling too

slowly. We need to go faster. That’s why we had to get away from Yellinin. So she won’t see us use power.

“The Theomach still won’t like it. If he senses it, he’ll think he has to interfere again.” Jeremiah rolled his eyes in mockery. “So we’ll wait until we’re farther away. We’ll give him a chance to get caught up in Berek’s war. Then we won’t have to worry about him anymore.”

A reflexive tug of hope surprised Linden. She craved anything which might alleviate the impossibility of their trek.

Covenant had warned her that the dangers were real. If Jeremiah and I risk using power now, we’ll be noticed. We could run into opposition. But the cold persuaded her that attempting to pass through the Westron Mountains would be worse.

“How are you going to do it?’ she asked carefully. “Covenant said that your magic isn’t safe here.”

The kind of opposition that might damage the Arch.