The Runes of the Earth: The Last Chronicles of Thomas Covenant - Book One (62 page)

Liand protested, an inarticulate gasp of dismay. Flinging himself from the pinto's back, he ran after Linden. The heat in his eyes and the dogged set of his shoulders proclaimed that he meant to follow her on foot as long and as far as necessary.

Almost at once, however, the Cords stopped him. He wrestled with them furiously until Manethrall Hami snapped his name.

“The will of the Ranyhyn is plain,” she told him severely. “We will not permit you to act against it.” When at last Liand subsided, she added more kindly, “Hyn will ward the Ringthane with her life.”

Liand may have continued to protest. Perhaps Hami reassured him further. But Linden could no longer hear them. Hyn had borne her beyond earshot.

For the moment, the ground seemed to yaw vertiginously on either side of her. She was perched too high on a mount over which she had no control; and her legs were stretched too wide. Only her grip on Hyn's mane secured her. A precarious hold: the fine hair would slip through her fingers if she relied on it.

She had made plans and promises, but she appeared to have no say at all in whether or not she ever kept her word.

She wanted to demand explanations from Stave, although she knew that he had none to give her. But his pain was vivid in the morning light, and its sharpness closed her throat. In spite of her visceral alarm, she suspected that the behavior of the Ranyhyn disturbed him more profoundly. She was merely frightened—and frustrated by her inability to act on any of her choices. He was experiencing a violation of the ancient relationship between his people and the great horses.

More for her own sake than for his—as far as she knew, the
Haruchai
had no sense of humor—she tried to lighten the silence; distract herself from her fears. “Well,” she said, “here's another fine mess you've gotten us into.”

He did not so much as glance at her.

Linden shrugged to herself. More seriously, she asked, “Do you have any idea where
they might be taking us? Can you think of anything that might explain what they're doing?”

She hardly expected him to respond. The scale of their disagreements and conflicts might make simple conversation impossible.

Having stated his position and made his decisions, however, Stave now seemed content to comport himself as though nothing had changed. “I have no clear answer,” he replied calmly. “Yet there is a tale which was told by Bannor of the Bloodguard during the time of the Unbeliever. It suggests an answer.”

“Please,” Linden put in promptly. “Tell me.”

“This tale,” he said, “concerns the quest of High Lord Elena and ur-Lord Covenant for the Seventh Ward of Kevin's Lore. Though they knew it not, they sought the Blood of the Earth and the Power of Command.

“You have heard that when ur-Lord Covenant first summoned the Ranyhyn, a great many of them answered, each rearing in obeisance and fear, each offering to be ridden. Yet he refused them, for which the Ramen honor him above all Lords and Bloodguard. Rather than ride any Ranyhyn, he asked of them a boon.

“In Mithil Stonedown he had done cruel harm to a woman of the Land—to Lena daughter of Atiaran, she who later gave birth to High Lord Elena. Hoping, perhaps, to ease that wrong, he asked of the Ranyhyn that one of them would visit Lena each year, for she adored them.

“This service the Ranyhyn fulfilled without fail, until the Unbeliever himself released them from it.”

Gradually Linden's anxiety receded as she began to feel more secure on Hyn's back. When they had left behind the shelters of the Ramen, the Ranyhyn increased their gait to an easy, rolling canter which carried them swiftly through the deep grass. At that speed, she might have felt more alarm rather than less. But the mare was able to compensate for her uncertain balance. In spite of her initial trepidation, she found herself relaxing to the sound of Stave's voice.

She knew what he meant by “cruel harm.” Covenant had told her of his crime against Lena. However, the rest of Stave's tale was unfamiliar to her.

“In later years,” he was saying, “during High Lord Elena's girlhood, Lena occasionally allowed her daughter to ride in her place. The High Lord spoke of that time in Bannor's presence while she and ur-Lord Covenant floated upon the flame-burnished waters of Earthroot.

“She told of a ride which expressed the will of her mount, the Ranyhyn Myrha, rather than any wish of hers.”

Ahead of Hyn and Hynyn, the mountainsides crowded close together, leaving only a narrow gap between sharp cliffs. As the great horses stretched their canter to a run, the cut ravine seemed to sweep palpably nearer. Grass, a few shrubs, and the occasional
aliantha
blurred past Linden on both sides. To her surprise, she began to enjoy Hyn's swiftness. The adoration and service of the Ramen were not difficult to understand. Like so much of the Land outside Lord Foul's influence, the Ranyhyn were tangibly precious.

But she could not be sure that she would prove equal to what they wished of her.

“What happened?” she asked her companion.

“In the High Lord's tale,” Stave answered, “Myrha bore her to an eldritch tarn enclosed within the Southron Range, where Ranyhyn had gathered by the hundreds. Around the vale of the tarn, the Ranyhyn galloped as though in ecstasy, only pausing at intervals to drink of the tarn's dark waters.

“When the High Lord also drank, she found herself united in spirit with the great horses, sharing their thoughts and purposes. Thus she learned that she had been brought to partake of the horserite of
Kelenbhrabanal,
Father of Horses, Stallion of the First Herd. This rite the Ranyhyn held in secret, generation after generation, so that
Kelenbhrabanal
's doom would never be forgotten.

“I know not what Hynyn and Hyn desire of us,” he added. “It may be that they wish us also to partake of the horserite. Or they may have some purpose which lies outside the ken of the
Haruchai.
”

His tone conveyed a shrug through the muted thunder of hooves. Whatever the intentions of the Ranyhyn might be, he apparently did not mean to let them interfere with his own commitments.

Or perhaps he was not so single-minded. His people loved the great horses. And Hyn and Hynyn had imposed their will on him as well as on Linden.

And he seemed reluctant to tell her the rest—

“What was it?” she asked. “
Kelenbhrabanal
's doom?”

What had the Ranyhyn wanted from Covenant's daughter?

“In a time before Berek Halfhand became the first High Lord,” continued the Master, “the Ranyhyn warred against the wolves of Fangthane the Render, and were slaughtered. Grieving for the decimation of the First Herd,
Kelenbhrabanal
sought to end the conflict by proposing a bargain. The Father of Horses would surrender his own throat to Fangthane. In exchange, the Render would cease his war upon the Ranyhyn.

“To this Fangthane agreed eagerly. But he did not honor his given word. When he had slain
Kelenbhrabanal,
he unleashed his wolves again upon the Plains of Ra. The slaughter of the Ranyhyn resumed. They would have perished from the Land if they had not gained the service of the Ramen to aid them in their long strife.”

“This knowledge the Ranyhyn shared with High Lord Elena to warn her,” Stave concluded flatly, “but she did not heed them.”

He seemed to believe that he had answered Linden's question. But she was not satisfied. “What was the warning?” she insisted. “I don't see what
Kelenbhrabanal
has to do with Elena. She wasn't looking for a way to sacrifice herself.”

Not according to the little that Linden had heard of those events.

The Master appeared to sigh. “You know the tale. High Lord Elena sought the Seventh Ward, the Power of Command, so that she might compel Kevin Landwaster from his grave against Corruption. She believed that despair would anneal Kevin's heart, rendering him from pain to iron, making of him an indomitable tool.

“In this she was wrong, to the great cost of all the Land.

“Bannor deemed then, as do the
Haruchai
now, that the Ranyhyn had perceived a flaw in the High Lord's comprehension. By means of their horserite, they sought to alter the course of her thoughts. They wished her to grasp that despair is no more potent or salvific beyond death than it is in life.”

If Bannor and his descendants were right, the Ranyhyn had read Elena's future in her young eyes. They had seen the time ahead of her: who she would become; what she would do.

And Elena had not heeded them.

Yet they had continued to serve her. To the last, they had hoped that she would learn from their rites. Or they had forgiven in advance her human folly—

Now, like them, Stave was trying to warn Linden.

It was too bad, she thought to herself, that the Masters also were not listening.

B
eyond the ravine which led them from the Verge of Wandering, Hyn and

Hynyn bore their riders running across mountainsides washed with sunshine, redolent with wildflowers and springtime. Always in sunlight, they rounded one towering granite buttress after another, plunging down into the gullies and
sholas
which creased the boundaries between peaks, then clattering with undiminished speed up the far slopes. At times the ground they trod looked rocky enough to imperil mountain goats; yet they galloped on without hesitation. For a while, Linden was sure that they would exhaust themselves. Gradually, however, she became aware that both mounts were in fact holding themselves back: that they had tremendous strength in reserve, and had not yet called forth their true power.

Their restraint may have been meant as consideration for her.

Fortunately the indefeasible security of Hyn's long strides inspired an almost autonomic confidence. The mare seemed as reliable as the bones of the Earth. Lulled by trust, Linden eventually found herself drifting. The sun's warmth seeped into her bones, and the whetted atmosphere of the mountains seemed to clean the fear from her lungs. By degrees, her apprehensions faded, and she fell into a doze.

Later she was startled awake by a cessation of motion. The Ranyhyn had halted in a low gully nourished by a sparkling rill. As it danced past a small clump of
aliantha,
the
water chuckled to itself as if high among the mountains it had heard an amusing tale. Hyn and Hynyn had paused to let their riders eat and drink.

Stave had already dismounted. Still half asleep, Linden slipped down from Hyn's back without remembering to worry about her height from the ground. Unsteadily, she moved to the rill to quench her thirst, then joined her companion beside one of the treasure-berry bushes.

She saw at once that riding had exacerbated his wounds, his internal injuries as much as his damaged hip. His lips were pallid, his skin had taken on an ashen hue, and his pains were as sharp as compound fractures.

Nonetheless he remained undaunted. He had not yet come to the end of himself. And the sapid fruit restored him as it did her. With her health-sense, she could watch the progress of renewed vitality through his body. Soon she believed that he would be able to endure more riding.

Now she noticed that the sun had reached the afternoon sky. The passing of time caused her a pang. She must have dozed longer than she realized. “Did Bannor happen to say,” she asked Stave, “how far away this tarn is?”

The
Haruchai
regarded her steadily. “It is not certain that the tarn of the horserite is our destination.”

Linden nodded. “I understand. It's just a guess. But I need something to hope for.”

“As you say.” He gazed up at the highest peaks. “High Lord Elena spoke of riding at a gallop for a day and a night from Mithil Stonedown. Doubtless a portion of the distance was behind us in the Verge of Wandering. More than that—”

With a shrug, he turned to limp toward Hynyn.

Both Ranyhyn had cropped a little grass and drunk from the rill. Now the stallion moved unbidden to stand beside a boulder jutting from the side of the gully. Apparently Hynyn understood that his rider might no longer be able to mount without aid. Once Stave had pulled himself onto the boulder, he could reach Hynyn's back easily.

Touched by the discernment of the Ranyhyn, Linden followed his example. When she had resumed her seat, Hyn and Hynyn trotted out of the gully to continue their journey.