Thomas Covenant 8 - The Fatal Revenant (39 page)

comprehend such matters, and I desire to impart my understanding. Lord Berek, my instruction will increase your strength and insight. It will ensure your triumph in this war.”

“Oh, please,” Covenant put in

sardonically. “Tell him the truth.” His impulse to provoke the Insequent seemed to increase with every swallow of wine.

The Theomach shrugged. “In truth, I do

not doubt your triumph, my lord, with or without my aid. Against Warmark Vettalor and such force as he commands, yours is the feller hand. Yet I fear no contradiction when I avow that my guidance will preserve many lives among your warriors. And I state with certainty that you will never fully grasp the extent of your oath, or the import of your larger purpose, without my teaching.”

“You are facile, stranger,” said Berek

gruffly. With his arms folded, he looked as immovable as a tree. He had become the center on which his world turned, and he kept his self-doubt hidden. “You speak of aid, but you do not reveal your purpose. Why do you offer your assistance?”

If the Theomach had any acquaintance with self-doubt, he, too, concealed it. Shrugging again, he admitted, “My lord, I have no reply that will readily content you. The questing of those who seek

for knowledge is by necessity oblique, instinctive, and indefinite. They themselves cannot name their object until it is discovered. I am able to say only that I believe I will gain knowledge in your service-aye, knowledge and honor-which would otherwise remain beyond my ken.”

“He’s a plausible bastard,” Covenant remarked after a long gulp of wine, “I’ll give him that.”

Slowly the Theomach turned his secreted face toward Covenant. His manner caused Linden to hold her breath in apprehension.

“He’s telling the truth,” murmured Jeremiah uncomfortably.

“Oh, sure,” Covenant snorted. “So could I. If only life were that simple.”

But Berek refused to be distracted. “If you indeed desire to aid me,” he

demanded, “and wish to be known as the Theomach rather than as a stranger, I require some sign of truth or fealty. Display evidence of your knowledge. Demonstrate that your aid will not serve my foes.”

Again the Theomach turned his head toward Covenant and Jeremiah like a warning.

Abruptly Covenant tossed his flagon into the nearest brazier. “Come on,

Jeremiah.” The coals were dimmed, and the reek of burning wine and honey steamed into the air. Then the wooden vessel took flame, making the tent bright for a moment. “Let’s go find Damelon. Maybe he’ll help us pick a fight with Inbull.” He held his left hand over his sore ribs, still keeping his halfhand in his pocket. “I want to repay some of this pain.”

At once, Jeremiah set his flagon down beside Berek’s longsword. Avoiding

Linden’s gaze, he accompanied

Covenant obediently. They kept their distance from both Berek and her as they crossed the tent and ducked out under the flaps.

Linden appealed to Berek with her gaze, mutely asking him to call her companions back. But he answered her aloud. “A measure of retribution at their hands will serve my purposes. And Hand Damelon will ensure that Inbull suffers no lasting harm.”

“It is well,” pronounced the Theomach. He may have been giving his approval to Berek’s words-or to Covenant’s and Jeremiah’s departure. Then, however, he made his meaning clear. “In their absence, I may speak more freely.”

Linden swallowed a desire to follow her son. She ached to protect him. And instinctively she wanted to avoid being alone with Berek. But she needed his help. And she could not imagine how

the Theomach would convince Berek of anything.

The future High Lord searched the Insequent closely. “Do so, then.”

“My lord Berek”-the Theomach’s confidence was palpable-“you require evidence of my fealty, and I provide it thus.

“The tale is told that in your despair upon the slopes of Mount Thunder,

ancient Gravin Threndor, the FireLions or the mountain or the very Earth spoke to you. Yet to avow that you indeed heard their speech is not sooth. It is merely a convenience, a means for passing over that which cannot be explained. The truth is both more simple and more profound. Inspired by despair and desperation, you called out for succor, offering your oath in recompense. This you did because your need was absolute, and because you sensed, in a fashion which defies

your explication, that Mount Thunder was a place of power amid the supernal loveliness of the Land. How or why your appeal was received and answered, you cannot declare.”

Berek made a visible effort to mask his surprise; but his growing wonder was clear in spite of his self-control.

“Nonetheless,” the Theomach

continued, “a form of speech occurred. Words became known to you, Words

which you did not hear, and which you could not comprehend. Because they had been given to you, their puissance was evident. Also no other course remained to you. Therefore you uttered them aloud. When the FireLions replied, you were as astonished as your foes.

“Since that moment, however, the Words have gone from you. You recall them only in dreams, and when you awaken, naught but sorrow remains.

“Is this not sooth, my lord?”

Berek nodded as if he were unaware of the movement. His troubled awe revealed that the Theomach was right.

“Then heed me well.” Now the Insequent’s tone took on a gravitas that compelled attention. Even the light appeared to condense around him, as if the lamps and the braziers and the very air were listening. “The Words were Seven, and they are these.

“The first is melenkurion, which signifies bastion or source. The second is abatha, suggesting endurance, or the need for endurance. Third is duroc, a reference to Earthpower, the substance of the fire which the lady wields. Fourth comes minas, which also means Earthpower, but in another sense. It indicates Earthpower as a foundation rather than as a form of theurgy.”

As he spoke, each Word seemed to

resonate and expand until it strained the fabric of the tent. “The fifth Word is mill, which cannot be defined in human speech, but which implies invocation. The sixth, harad, may be understood as a stricture against selfishness, tyranny, malice, or other forms of despair. It binds the speaker to make no use of Earthpower which does not serve or preserve the munificence of creation. And last is khabaal, to which many meanings may be ascribed. In your mouth, it is an affirmation or

incarnation of your sworn oath to the Land.”

The Theomach paused as if to let Berek-or perhaps Linden-absorb his revelation. They were silent. Echoes filled Linden’s ears: she felt the potency of the Words ramify around her, multiplied toward horizons that lay beyond her comprehension. They encompassed possibilities which were too vast for her.

She had never heard Covenant mention the Seven Words. But the Theomach had just restored them to Berek’s conscious mind. Surely they had not been lost before Covenant’s first translation to the Land?

They had been given to her as well—

A moment later, the Theomach said. “This tongue is spoken nowhere, other than by one race that I scorn to name, for it is the language of the Earth’s

making and substance rather than of the Earth’s peoples. Yet it may be discovered, word by word, by those who seek deeply for knowledge-and who do not wish to bend or distort that knowledge for their own ends.”

Then, unexpectedly, he turned to Linden. She could not see his expression through his bindings. Nevertheless she received the clear impression that he sought to sway her as much as to convince Berek.

“Aloud,” he said distinctly, “the Seven Words are spoken thus. Melenkurion abatha. Duroc minas mill. Harad khabaal.”

Before he had pronounced ten syllables, the Staff of Law burst into flame. With each Word, the fire mounted until it enclosed her in conflagration: power gentle as a caress, entirely without hurt or peril, and jubilant as a paean. Soon the whole tent was full of blazing like joy

and rebirth, exuberance and

restoration: the true vitality of Law.

Some part of Linden clung to it, reveling in its exaltation. It resembled the gift of vitrim and the benison of Glimmermere, the tang of aliantha and the sovereign gold of hurtloam; the Land’s limitless potential for glory. However, another aspect of her was mortal and afraid. The Words were distilled puissance. She had not chosen them, and could not hope to

control their implications.

Reflexively she strove to quell the flames-and as soon as she did so, they fell away. Without transition, the fire was quenched, leaving her to the truncated insight of the lamps and braziers.

Within herself, she staggered at the suddenness of the change. When she remembered to look at her companions, she saw that Berek was

both stunned and eager. He seemed unable to comprehend what he had heard and seen-and yet he had been lifted up in spite of his bafflement. A long burden of bereavement had fallen from his shoulders; and for a few moments, at least, fanged loss no longer gnawed at his spirit.

The Theomach watched her and Berek with apparent satisfaction. Are you content, my lord?” he asked as if he were sure of the answer. Will you now

accept my companionship, that I may aid and tutor you’?”

Shuddering with effort, Berek mastered himself. When he had swallowed several times to clear his throat, he said hoarsely. “My gratitude is certain. I will say more when my lady has assured me that she is unharmed.”

Linden could not rival his self-command; but she replied as clearly as she could, “Look at me, my lord. You

can see. I’m as surprised as you are.” And she wanted to weep with regret at her own weakness. “But I’m not hurt.”

Slowly Berek nodded. “Yes, my lady Linden. I am indeed able to discern that you are whole. Therefore I will say to the Theomach”-still slowly, he turned to the Insequent as if each small movement cost him an exertion of will-“that my gratitude is certain, but my acceptance remains in doubt. One further glimpse of your knowledge will

content me.”

The Theomach waited, motionless; but whether he intended to acquiesce or refuse, Linden could not determine.

With rigid care, Berek said, “You spoke of the munificence of creation. Will you name that munificence? Wherein does it lie? What is its nature? What does it portend? If these Seven Words will bind me, I must know that to which I will be bound.”

“Life,” replied the Theomach simply. “Growth. Enhancement.” Then he added in a tone like an apology. “You will understand, my lord Berek, that neither I nor anyone may grasp the mind of this world’s Creator. The needs and desires of that which is eternal surpass finite comprehension. Yet I deem that the Earth, and within it the Land, were formed as a habitation where living beings may gaze upon wonderment and terror, and seek to emulate or refuse them. The Earth and

the Land are a dwelling-place where life may discover the highest in itself, or the lowest, according to its desires and choices.”

Berek frowned, not in disapproval or chagrin, but in intense consideration. For a long moment, he regarded the Theomach as though he strove to penetrate the stranger’s secrets with his burgeoning health-sense. Then he asked over his shoulder, “My lady Linden, do you conceive that the

Theomach speaks sooth?”

His question startled Linden, and she answered without thinking, “I don’t care.” If she had paused for thought, the sheer weight of his query would have sealed her voice in her throat. “I want it to be true. So do you. Isn’t that what matters?” Who was she to articulate the meaning of life? “Isn’t it the only thing that matters?”

Berek growled in the back of his throat,

a wordless sound fraught with both recognition and uncertainty. Still studying the Insequent, he announced formally, “Then I will say to my lord Theomach that I accept your companionship. Both aid and guidance will I greet with welcome. A man who speaks as you have done must be heeded, whatever his intent may be.”

The Theomach responded with a bow and a salute, tapping his fist to his chest in homage. Interfering with

Covenant’s designs, he had gained what he wanted for himself. Inadvertently Linden had helped him win a measure of Berek’s trust.

Having made his decision, however, Berek did not hesitate to move on. “Now you will leave us,” he informed his new counselor. “I must speak with my lady Linden alone.”

Oh, God. Linden flinched. Abruptly the entire space of the tent seemed to

become a pitfall: she felt beset by snares which she did not know how to avoid. In this circumstance, her mind cannot be distinguished from the Arch of Time. One wrong word—

At once, the Theomach demurred. “My lord, this is needless. That which the lady desires of you is simple, and I do not doubt that her requests will be easily met. Nor will she and her companions endanger you in any fashion. You have accepted my aid and

guidance. Do not unwisely set them aside.”

Berek drew back his shoulders, lifted his chin. His tone was mild, but its mildness veiled iron. “My lord Theomach, I have said that my gratitude is certain, as is my welcome. Yet my wisdom is my own. If I prove unwise, as I have often done, it will be through no fault of yours.”

Linden wished that she could see the

Theomach’s eyes. She had the impression that his gaze shifted rapidly between Berek and her, searching for an argument that would sway the Halfhand-or for a way to warn her of perils which he could not state aloud. But then he repeated his bow and salute. Instead of stepping between moments to address Linden where Berek could not hear him, he turned to the flaps and left the tent.

A crisis was upon her, and she was not

prepared for it. The Seven Words still echoed around her, baffling her with hints of hope and calamity.

But she had spoken and acted by instinct for long hours now. She was too weary to do otherwise. Trust yourself. If she had truly heard Covenant’s voice in her dreams, not that of some malign misleading chimera—

As Berek stepped closer with

gentleness on his face and resolve in his eyes, Linden shrugged off her cloak as if to rid herself of an obstruction. The braziers had warmed the air: soon she would be too warm, alarmed or shamed by her conflicted doubts. Clinging to the Staff with both hands, she braced herself to meet his probing gaze.