Thomas Covenant 8 - The Fatal Revenant (37 page)

To spare herself, she began a more partial form of treatment, focusing on infections, pneumonia, and other illnesses rather than wounds. These required her keenest percipience, but they needed subtler care; demanded

less raw power.

In her concentration, she did not immediately notice the growing mutter of voices outside the tent; the occasional shouts. But then she heard Covenant rasp distinctly, “Hellfire! Get your hands off me, you overgrown oaf!”

“Covenant!” protested Jeremiah. “We can’t-Berek-!”

Other voices protested as well. “Warhaft!” Yellinin shouted. “Lord Berek commanded courtesy!” And Basila added, “Are you deaf? The tale of her healing is everywhere!”

But Krenwill, who had vouched for Linden’s truthfulness, countered, “You do not see them, Basila.
did not until we gained the light of the encampment. They are sealed against discernment. Unnaturally sealed. They may conceal vast powers. Fatal powers, Yellinin. Ifp>

they mean harm to Lord Berek-“

“Warhaft Inbull!” roared a man who sounded like Damelon. You will desist! Lord Berek has commanded courtesy.”

“I will not,” a guttural voice retorted. “Let Lord Berek chastise me if he must. I will not hazard his life on the faith of strangers merely because they journey with a woman who heals.”

Oh, shit. Forgetting the wounded, Linden dropped her fire and ran.

Ahead of her, the tent flaps burst open. Both Jeremiah and Covenant were flung inward by a huge man with rage on his face and blood on his knuckles.

An instant later, Damelon sprang in front of the Warhaft, attempting to restrain Inbull by main strength. But the big man swatted Damelon aside as though the Hand were a minor

annoyance.

Linden saw him clearly, in spite of the smoke; saw him as if he were surrounded by torches. He looked as solid as oak, with massively gnarled limbs and a mouth full of broken teeth. The heavy slash of a sword had cut deeply into the left side of his face and head, smashing bone and cutting away flesh; chopping out a crease which had collapsed his features. The only expression left to him was a grimace as

suggestive of death as a rictus.

Between one heartbeat and the next, running frantically, Linden understood that he was a traitor. His brutality was the self-loathing of a man who had turned his back on a cause in which he had once believed. She did not know how or why his loyalties had changed. Nonetheless his betrayal was as palpable as a chancre.

He had brought Covenant and

Jeremiah here violently because he hoped to provoke an attack.

At the same time, almost

simultaneously, she saw Jeremiah stumble to his hands and knees near Berek’s feet. And she saw that he had been hit. His left eye had been struck as if with a club. Some of the bones there may have been cracked. His eye had already swollen shut, silencing the cipher of his tic.

His blood still tainted the Warhaft’s knuckles. That was how Inbull had prevented Jeremiah from defending himself and Covenant. The Warhaft had taken her son by surprise, her son, striking him down before he recognized his peril.

And at the same time again, as though the images were superimposed, Linden saw Covenant struggling to avoid a collision with Berek. Covenant, too, had been struck: he staggered as if his ribs

had been broken. But his efforts to recover his balance were hindered by the fact that he kept his right hand, his halfhand, thrust deep in the pocket of his jeans.

Frowning darkly at the clamor, Berek turned in time to reach out with one strong hand. While Linden strove to shout a warning and could not-the crisis came upon her too swiftly-Berek caught Covenant by the shoulder and steadied him.

Then Berek snatched back his hand as though he had been scalded. Involuntarily he gasped-

-and Covenant did not disappear.

Nor did Jeremiah. He remained on his hands and knees, staring with his good eye at Covenant and Berek in dismay.

Cursing, Covenant jerked away from Berek; into Inbull’s reach.

The Warhaft cocked his fist as if he had been justified by Berek’s reaction-and still Linden could not summon a shout. Although she ran desperately, she hardly seemed to move.

In a tone like the bite of a sword, Berek snapped. “If you strike again, Warhaft, I will have your head.”

Without warning, Linden was

wrenched to a halt, caught in the grasp

of the Theomach. Somehow he had passed through the throng of warriors as though they did not exist; or he did not. Now he stood in front of her. Catching her arms in a grip as compulsory as manacles, he absorbed the force of her haste effortlessly.

Her heart may have had time to beat once. She heard both Covenant’s voice and Berek’s, Covenant swearing viciously, Berek demanding explanations. But then everything

blurred as if the Theomach had lifted her partway into a different reality, shifted her slightly out of sequence with her surroundings; and all sound was cut off. She seemed to stand with the Insequent in a hiatus between moments, a place where causality and result had not yet moved on to their next incarnation.

Within their private silence, the

Theomach urged her softly. “Say nothing, lady. Do not speak here.

There are intentions at work which you do not yet comprehend, and upon which the outcome of this time in large measure depends.”

She fought him briefly. When she realized that she could not break free, however, she ceased struggling. Only her Staff and Covenant’s ring would aid her here; and they might prove disastrous.

Able to raise her voice at last, she

shouted into the Theomach’s face, You did this! This is your path. Jeremiah can’t defend himself. There’s nothing Covenant can do. You haven’t left them any choice!”

He shrugged. “That is sooth.” His wrapped face made him appear as cryptic and careless as an oracle. “I regret that I did not foresee the Warhaft’s falseness and brutality. I desire only to aid Lord Berek. Therefore I employ your wisdom-aye,

and your valor also-to appease his mistrust toward strangers. Thus I am indeed culpable for the harm which has befallen your comrades.”

Linden spat an oath. At that moment-between those moments-the Theomach’s intentions meant nothing to her. Ignoring his near-apology, she demanded. But why didn’t Covenant vanish?” And Jeremiah? “He said that Berek’s Earthpower is too strong-“

The Insequent studied her through his cerements. “The force within Lord Berek has not yet fully awakened.” As he spoke, he eased his hard clasp on her arms. “And he whom you name Covenant is more hardy than he has encouraged you to believe.”

Then he urged again, “Still I must insist, lady. I must caution you. Say nothing in the presence of others. When Lord Berek speaks with you and your companions alone, as he must, be

chary in your replies. If you are at any time uncertain of what may be said, permit me to answer in your stead. By my true name, which is known to you, I assure you that my first purpose is to aid Lord Berek-and to preserve the Arch of Time.”

He did not wait for her to find a response. When he released her, her surroundings-the tent and the smoke, the pallets of the wounded, the conflicted outrage facing Berek

sprang back into clarity; and she heard Covenant snarl. “-fire, Berek, this is intolerable. We don’t deserve it.”

“You do not.” Berek’s voice held its cutting edge. “Warhaft Inbull has harmed you, and will answer for his deeds. I demand only the name of the power which has burned my hand.”

Freed from the Theomach’s theurgy, Linden would have rushed to Jeremiah’s side. She might have

forgotten that he had forbidden her to touch him. But the Insequent arrived ahead of her. Without apparent transition or movement, he stood between Berek and Linden’s companions. Yet Berek was not startled. None of the observers reacted to the Theomach’s suddenness. He had cast a glamour on their senses-or on Linden’s.

“My lord Berek,” he said smoothly, “permit me to intercede. I am the

Theomach. The fault of this contention is mine. This man and this boy are companions of the lady. She names them Covenant and Jeremiah, her son, as she names herself Linden. They have come by my guidance. I drew them hither because I deemed her aid a treasure beyond estimation, and because I desire to aid you also. Surely her companions may be forgiven much, despite their unruly puissance, for the sake of what she has wrought.”

At last, Linden was able to move normally. With a few quick strides, she skidded to her knees beside Jeremiah, almost within reach of his battered head. “Jeremiah, honey,” she panted. “are you all right? How badly did he hurt you?”

Her furious desire to lash out at Inbull, she suppressed. The Theomach had warned her. And she judged Berek to be a man who would not let the Warhaft’s mendacity pass.

Inbull may have hurt Berek’s own son as well.

Reflexively Linden stretched out her hand to Jeremiah.

“Don’t, Mom,” he gasped. His face was full of alarm. “Don’t touch me. Don’t heal me. Or Covenant. We’ll be all right. The Staff-” Blood spread down his cheek, catching in his nascent stubble until the left side of his face seemed webbed with pain; snared in

deceit and cruelty. “Even hurtloam will erase us. You don’t understand how hard this is.”

Oh, Jeremiah. Linden stopped herself. Her upper arms throbbed where the Theomach had gripped her. Swallowing a rush of grief, she asked, “Can you heal yourself? That looks pretty bad. He must have cracked some of the bones.”

She could not determine how gravely

he had been injured. He remained closed to her; unnaturally impenetrable, as Krenwill had claimed.

“Covenant will take care of it.” Jeremiah pulled himself up from his hands, kneeling beyond her reach. His attention shifted back to Covenant and Berek; dismissed Linden.

Berek continued to confront the Theomach. Doubt rasped in his voice as he asked, “What aid do you offer,

stranger’?”

The Insequent tapped his bound chest with his fist twice, imitating Damelon’s earlier salute. “My lord, if it is your will, I will teach you the meaning of your new strengths.”

Berek raised his eyebrows. “And whence comes this unlooked-for wish to aid me?”

“That, my lord,” the Theomach replied,

unruffled, “I may not bespeak openly. The lore which I offer is for you alone.”

Berek returned an unconvinced snort. But he did not press the Theomach. Instead he looked at Linden. His eyes seemed to probe her soul as he said, “My lady Linden, you have performed such service here that no honor or guerdon can suffice to repay it. Yet the task entrusted to me exceeds these wounded. It requires also the defeat of the Queen’s foes. Ultimately it

demands the nurturance of the Land. Therefore I must remain wary while my heart swells with thankfulness.

“Will you claim my sufferance on behalf of your companions?”

Abruptly wary herself, and abashed in Berek’s presence, Linden rose to her feet. Hugging the Staff to her chest, she met his gaze, although his penetration daunted her.

“Jeremiah is my son,” she began awkwardly. “Covenant is-“

For a moment, she faltered. She did not need the Theomach’s warnings to convince her that any reply might prove dangerous. Like Joan, if in her own way, she bore the burden of too much time. The wrong word might ripple outward for millennia.

But Covenant, Jeremiah, the

Theomach, and Berek Halfhand were

all studying her. With an effort, she forced herself to continue. “Where I come from,” she said carefully, “Covenant is a great hero. There are things about both of them that I don’t understand. But they’re with me, and I need them.”

Then she squared her shoulders. “I made the decision to come here. If it was a mistake, its my doing, not theirs.” Unsteadily she finished. “We’ll leave as soon as we can.”

Berek scrutinized her for a moment longer. Then he nodded decisively. “My lady, we will speak with less constraint in my tent, you and your companions”-he glanced at the shrouded figure of the Insequent—”not excluding the Theomach.

“Hand DameIon?”

Berek’s son stepped forward. “My lord’?” He was flushed with the effects of lnbull’s blow; but Linden saw that he

had not been seriously hurt. Not like Jeremiah-The breastplate of his cuirass had absorbed much of the impact.

“Has Warhaft Inbull dared to harm one of my Hands?” asked Berek. His self-command did not waver. Nonetheless Linden heard the throb of cold fury in the background of his voice.

“He has dared, my lord,” Damelon replied stiffly, “but he has not

succeeded. His affront does not merit your concern.”

Berek flashed his son a quick glance of concern and approbation. However, his tone did not relent. “I command here. The affront is mine to gauge, and to repay.” Then he told Damelon. “While I do so, escort the lady Linden and her companions to my tent. See that they are provided with warmth and viands, and with water for the cleansing of wounds. If their hurts require any

healing that we may supply, command it in my name. I will attend upon them shortly.”

Hand Damelon saluted again. “At once, my lord.” Like his father, he kept his anger to himself.

Turning to Linden, he gestured toward the opening behind Inbull. “My lady, will you accompany me’?”

“We will, Hand,” the Theomach

answered for her. His manner suggested a smile of satisfaction. “Accepting your courtesy, we hope to honor you in return.”

Linden let the Insequent take charge of the situation. He understood its implications better than she did. But she did not allow him to hurry her. Stooping to Jeremiah, she asked. “Can you stand, honey? Are you able to walk?”

“Hell, Linden,” Covenant growled under his breath. “Of course he can. This is important.”

“He’s right, Mom.” Jeremiah did not look at her. “It already hurts less.” With a teenager’s graceless ease, he surged to his feet. “I’ll be fine.”

Linden nodded, too baffled to question him further. According to Covenant, Berek’s touch would banish both of them. Yet they remained. She felt that

she had been given hints or portents, glimpses of revelation, which she could not interpret. What did Covenant dread, if Berek’s inchoate strength posed no threat? Why had she been forbidden to hug or care for her son?