Against All Things Ending Part 42

"The Sunstone is what it is. It won't serve Lord Foul.

"Anele needs it. It's his only real protection. And it protects us at the same time." Trying not to mourn, she insisted, "If we had given it to him when he wanted it, Kastenessen wouldn't have been able to touch him. Liand would still be alive."

She could not imagine what use Anele might have made of the Sunstone, or of his resulting lucidity. In Andelain, he had spent time alone with the spectres of his parents. For all Linden knew, they had shared insights which she desperately needed.

For all she knew, Covenant had urged the doom of the Sunstone on Liand so that it would eventually be inherited by Anele. The old man certainly could not have found or taken the orcrest orcrest for himself. The Masters would never have allowed it. for himself. The Masters would never have allowed it.

The flat faces of the Humbled concealed their reactions; but Linden did not stop. "As it is, we almost lost Galt and Jeremiah. And Kastenessen is still Kastenessen. As soon as he gets a chance, he'll slaughter us all.

"If you can't trust Anele, trust Sunder and Hollian. Your ancestors knew them. You remember that. If Sunder and Hollian thought that he might ever commit Desecration, they wouldn't have called him 'the hope of the Land.' And they made it possible for us to escape the bane. How is letting Anele have the Sunstone worse than leaving him open for Kastenessen?"

Clyme and Branl gazed at Linden. Krill Krill-shadows shrouded their faces: they looked as dangerous as darkness, and as unpredictable.

Trembling with self-restraint, she finished, "Before you make any decisions, why don't you ask Covenant what he thinks? Sooner or later, he'll come back. Finding the orcrest orcrest was his idea. Maybe he'll remember why he wanted Liand to have it." was his idea. Maybe he'll remember why he wanted Liand to have it."

The Ironhand of the Swordmainnir nodded. "Well said."

"Aye," growled Frostheart Grueburn as if she were clenching her fists. "Linden Giantfriend reasons wisely. I have felt my flesh scalded by Kastenessen's touch, Giant though I am. I applaud her caution."

For a long moment, the Humbled did not speak. They may have been considering Linden's appeal. Or they may have already dismissed it. She could not read them.

But Clyme and Branl made no move toward Galesend and Anele.

From his place behind Jeremiah and the croyel croyel, Galt stated, "I serve no purpose as I am, except as bondage for this fell creature. If a Giant will consent to a.s.sume my task, I do not fear to confront Kastenessen once more."

With an unfamiliar asperity, Stave asked Galt,"And are you, Humbled and Haruchai Haruchai, the equal of any Giant against the puissance of an Elohim Elohim who has merged with the who has merged with the skurj skurj?"

"I repeat," Galt retorted, "that I do not fear-"

Stave cut him off. "You are also a Master. That service presumes that you do not fear. Therefore it demands your concern for the larger well-being of others, for the preservation of your companions as well as of the Land.

"In this, you have already failed. You did not warn the Stonedownor of his peril. You made no attempt to evade Kastenessen, either for Liand's sake or for that of the Chosen's son. Do not speak of fearlessness when you have withheld your full service from this company."

The krill krill blazed in Galt's eyes, implying anger that his countenance concealed. Instinctively Linden feared an attack on Stave. For several heartbeats, there was no sound apart from the restless tension of the Giants, Mahrtiir's vexed respiration, and the delicate waft of the breeze. blazed in Galt's eyes, implying anger that his countenance concealed. Instinctively Linden feared an attack on Stave. For several heartbeats, there was no sound apart from the restless tension of the Giants, Mahrtiir's vexed respiration, and the delicate waft of the breeze.

Then, in unison, the three Humbled nodded.

"We are answered," Clyme announced. "For the present, we will await the counsel of the ur-Lord. If thereafter we determine a different course, we will speak of it plainly. We desire no animosity with the Giants, whom we honor. Also the Unbeliever has commanded our acquiescence to Linden Avery."

In spite of her personal darkness, Linden felt a moment of relief. Rime Coldspray sighed: a gust of released pressure. Then she acknowledged, "That also is well said." Other Swordmainnir broke their silence, commenting quietly to each other. Mahrtiir turned away as if he were biting his tongue.

After a brief exchange with Onyx Stonemage, the Ironhand said formally, "We are Giants. We crave the release of a caamora caamora. Here, however, we have no fire for our grief. How then shall we lament Liand of Mithil Stonedown's pa.s.sing?"

Lament? Linden's chest tightened at the thought. If she allowed herself sorrow now, she might not be able to contain it.

Yet how could she refuse to grieve for Liand, when he had given so much of himself?

She had done nothing to ease the burns and hurts of her companions.

"In a distant age," Stave offered after a moment, "when each Stonedown was nurtured by the lore of the rhadhamaerl rhadhamaerl, Liand's forebears raised cairns to honor their fallen."

Coldspray considered the idea; nodded sharply. "Then we will do likewise. Perhaps it is fortuitous that we have no abundance of worthy stone." She indicated the ridge. "We must delve and strain to wrest condign rock from the earth of these hills. By that labor, we will attempt to articulate our woe."

One at a time, her comrades expressed their approval.

But Linden said, "No." Then she corrected herself. "I mean, not right away. If you don't mind, I want to be alone with him for a while." She could not ease her heart by carrying rocks. "I need a chance to say goodbye. Before you cover him up."

She read the emanations of the Giants clearly, though they did not speak. They were not reluctant to respect her wishes. They simply had no words suited to her distress. Stave and the Humbled said nothing. For its own obscure reasons, the croyel croyel withheld its bitterness or mockery. But Mahrtiir reached up to touch Cirrus Kindwind's arm. withheld its bitterness or mockery. But Mahrtiir reached up to touch Cirrus Kindwind's arm.

"Come, Giant," he urged quietly. "Let us discover if any of the Ardent's largesse remains. The Ramen also must lament Liand's death. But it is our nature to do so running, as Cord Pahni now runs, and perhaps Cord Bhapa also. I will expend my own sorrow when we have learned the full extent to which we have been harmed by caesures caesures."

Mutely Kindwind accompanied the Manethrall, taking Covenant with her, as he turned to descend the ridgeside toward the stream where the companions had left their supplies.

Together the other Giants bowed their heads and followed. But not in silence now. Instead, softly, their Ironhand began to sing.

"There is no death that is not deeply felt, "There is no death that is not deeply felt, No pain that does not bite through flesh and bone.

All hurt is like the endless surge of seas, The wear and tumbling that leaves no welt But only sand instead of granite ease."

Frostheart Grueburn's voice joined Coldspray's for the second line, and Cabledarm's for the third. Line by line, each Giant added her sadness to the song until all of them were singing. Before the end of the second stanza, the Ironhand's threnody had risen to become a shared hymn.

"Yet stone endures, endures, against the surge: "Yet stone endures, endures, against the surge: It comes to sand, and still the world is stone.

While sh.o.r.es are gnawed, new mountains elsewhere rise.

And so the seas' lament is not a dirge: It is a prayer for rock that fronts the skies, "The calm of rock that always meets the seas, A harmony that is both song and groan.

This music is the Earth's reply to pain, The slow release that lifts us from our knees.

By this, harsh death becomes both loss and gain."

Stormpast Galesend still carried Anele, still unconscious, still clutching the Sunstone as though his fate depended on it.

While the last Giants left the ridge, Clyme and Branl separated, heading north and south to resume their insufficient watch. Stave also walked out into the night, although he did not go far. And Galt trailed after the Swordmainnir, taking Jeremiah carefully down the uneven slope. Soon Linden was left alone with Liand's body.

Alone and lightless, regarded only by the bereavement of the stars.

Briefly she considered her Staff and Covenant's ring, but did not retrieve them. Instead she moved slowly toward Liand's ruined form. Thinking, Gain? Oh, Liand! she sank to her knees beside her friend and bowed her head to the pebbles and crushed gypsum.

There is hope in contradiction.

Maybe that was true. But she could not see it. Her only consolation was that Jeremiah did not belong to Lord Foul. If he had indeed been claimed, as the Despiser apparently believed, he would not need to hide his thoughts in graves.

When Linden returned to the canyon at last, with the Staff of Law in her hand, Covenant's ring hanging from its chain around her neck, and sorrows engraved like galls on her countenance, the first pallor of dawn had touched the east, emphasizing the crooked horizon of the hills. Stave had joined her when she had walked partway down the first slope, but he had said nothing; asked nothing. And she had not spoken. What could she have said that Stave had not already heard?

In silence, they made their way across the shale and slippage of the hillsides until they reached the thick sand of the canyon-bottom and the impatient mutter of the stream.

There they found their companions organizing the supplies left behind by one of Joan's caesures caesures. In the light of the krill krill, Linden saw that several bundles remained. Most of the bedrolls were gone, as well as a few waterskins and two or three sacks of food. But a substantial portion of the Ardent's providence was intact.

That was good fortune, better than she had imagined. But it did not touch her.

Anele was awake now, eating a spa.r.s.e meal that Latebirth had set out for him. Protected in Galesend's armor, he ate with one hand, clutching Liand's orcrest orcrest with the other. However, he showed no sign that contact with the Sunstone had relieved his madness. When Linden studied him more closely, she saw that he had buried his legacy of Earthpower deep within him, as if he feared its interaction with with the other. However, he showed no sign that contact with the Sunstone had relieved his madness. When Linden studied him more closely, she saw that he had buried his legacy of Earthpower deep within him, as if he feared its interaction with orcrest orcrest. Not for the first time, she thought that he did not want to be sane. Not now: not yet. He dreaded what coherence would impose on him-or require from him.

Mahrtiir also was eating a little food. Jeremiah chewed and swallowed whatever Cabledarm put in his mouth, drank whatever she offered, without any perceptible reaction. But the Giants had apparently decided to save their rations for an occasion of greater need. And Covenant's absence was as plain as a seizure. Broken memories held him, leaving him as uninhabited as Jeremiah.

As if Linden's silence were a commandment, no one spoke. Rime Coldspray and the other Giants watched her with shrouded eyes, keeping what they saw to themselves. The Manethrall finished his food, swallowed a little water. Then, severely, he gestured for Linden's attention and pointed her toward Covenant.

When she did not respond, he sighed. Breaking the night's quietude seemed to cost him an effort as he said, "Like the Cords, Ringthane, I must run my grief. I await only your word. Shall I endeavor to rouse Thomas Covenant? Whether his plight is cruel or soothing, I cannot discern. Therefore the choice is yours."

Part of Linden wanted to leave Covenant alone. She wanted the same thing for herself. But her need for him was greater.

"All right." She sounded awkward to herself, as if she had forgotten how to use her voice. "Give it a try. We have too many decisions to make, and I don't know where to start. Maybe this time he'll remember-"

Her throat closed. Her last decision had led to Liand's death.

Mahrtiir nodded sharply. He was in a hurry. Pinching the nub of a withered bloom from his garland, he rubbed it between his palms as he approached Covenant. There he squatted. With a mute glance up at Cirrus Kindwind, he asked for her aid. The last time that he had used amanibhavam amanibhavam in this fas.h.i.+on, Covenant had hurt his head on the boulder. in this fas.h.i.+on, Covenant had hurt his head on the boulder.

Kindwind responded by kneeling beside Covenant and cupping her hand behind his head. The stump of her forearm she held ready to catch him if he flung himself to one side or the other.

In slashes of argent from Loric's gem, Linden saw Mahrtiir close Covenant's mouth and press powdered gra.s.s to Covenant's nose. She saw Covenant inhale; felt the lingering potency of amanibhavam amanibhavam spread like a pang into his bloodstream. spread like a pang into his bloodstream.

With such suddenness that Mahrtiir jerked backward, Covenant slapped his hand away.

"You aren't here," Covenant snapped. "You don't see what Kastenessen's Durance costs him." His vehemence was as startling as a shout. "The Elohim Elohim think he deserves it. I don't know how it's think he deserves it. I don't know how it's possible possible to deserve this kind of pain." to deserve this kind of pain."

Linden's health-sense recognized the truth. Covenant was still lost in some fissure of recollection. He spoke as though he stood at Kastenessen's side while the horrific task of containing the skurj skurj drove the drove the Elohim Elohim mad. mad.

Shaking his head, Mahrtiir rose to his feet. "Accept my regret, Ringthane," he said gruffly. "He has fallen too far. Amanibhavam Amanibhavam cannot restore him now." cannot restore him now."

Linden sighed. "Then go." In her own way, she was as displaced as Covenant. "Do what you have to do. When you come back, we'll try to figure out"-she had no language for her sense of helplessness-"something."

The Manethrall replied with a grave bow. Then he left the company, heading east along the floor of the canyon. As he moved, he gradually quickened his pace until he was sprinting blind. Soon he had faded beyond the reach of Linden's senses.

He, too, had loved Liand.

Without meeting Rime Coldspray's gaze, Linden murmured, "If you still want to do it, Liand deserves a cairn."

The Ironhand nodded. "In a moment. First there is a question that I must ask. Linden Giantfriend, your discernment surpa.s.ses ours. Perhaps you will be able to answer."

Done with apportioning and securing the Ardent's supplies, several of the Giants gathered around Coldspray and Linden.

"We were informed," Rime Coldspray began, "that the touch of orcrest orcrest inspires sanity in Anele. Yet now he holds the Sunstone-and is not transformed." inspires sanity in Anele. Yet now he holds the Sunstone-and is not transformed."

"I know," said Linden sadly. "I see the same thing."

"Then my question is twofold. If orcrest orcrest no longer wields the virtue of sanity, does it yet ward him from possession? If it does not, what purpose is served by his grasp? In another's hands-in the Timewarden's, perchance, or in yours-it might aid us well." no longer wields the virtue of sanity, does it yet ward him from possession? If it does not, what purpose is served by his grasp? In another's hands-in the Timewarden's, perchance, or in yours-it might aid us well."

It might force Covenant to remain present. If so, he would reject it.

"And if Anele no longer finds himself in orcrest orcrest," Coldspray continued, "are you not blameless for Liand's death? While the skein of his mind remains confused, the deeds which ensued from your heedlessness would not have been altered. Does his state not demonstrate the unwisdom of claiming fault? Does he not give you cause to excuse yourself?"

Linden shook her head. "No." Still she avoided Coldspray's eyes. "He's even more vulnerable like this." She had found no forgiveness while she was alone with Liand's body. "Orcrest isn't affecting him right now"-she scrutinized the old man to confirm her perceptions-"because he isn't letting it. isn't affecting him right now"-she scrutinized the old man to confirm her perceptions-"because he isn't letting it.

"Usually it triggers the Earthpower bred in his bones-or his magic triggers Earthpower from the Sunstone. Then he's sane. But now-" Linden shrugged stiffly. "He's hiding himself somehow. I didn't know he could do that. But he needs his madness."

Like an answer, the old man muttered, "Anele fears."

His voice s.n.a.t.c.hed at Linden's attention. Cautiously she moved toward him. "Anele?"

He sat in the curve of Galesend's breastplate, jerking his head from side to side. Occasional glints of argent accentuated the milky hue of his eyes. One hand gripped the Sunstone against his stomach as if to appease his incessant hunger. The other punched a rhythm at the cataphract, bruising his knuckles.

"He fears to fail-and to succeed." With every phrase, he rocked back and forth in time to his blows. "He wears shackles of horror and shame. Murder. Futility. Error. Greater spirits speak of hope. They do not grasp that he is old and weak. Unable. He must, and cannot. Must. Cannot."

Repeating, "Must," and, "Cannot," like a mantra, he hit the stone, oblivious of his audience.

"Anele?" Linden asked again softly, as if she were crooning to a child. "Anele?" The idea that he knew what he had done to Liand ached in her chest. "Just let it happen. Let it happen. I know that it hurts. But it might help us understand. We might be able to take better care of you."

"Must," Anele replied like an echo of himself. He may not have heard her. "Cannot."

Gritting her teeth, Linden swallowed curses. She was intimately familiar with at least some of Anele's emotions, and they ravaged her.

"I don't know what else to do," she admitted unhappily to Coldspray. "Trusting him is the only thing that I can think of. His parents were my friends. And they were talking to him in his dreams before he ever got to Andelain.

"Sometime long ago, he decided to be crazy-not to mention blind-because he couldn't stand what was happening to him, or how he looked at himself, or what he thought he might have to do. But he's still the son of his parents. I have to believe that his heart is as good as theirs. Eventually he'll prove himself."

So far, everything that Anele had contributed to the company, and to the Land, had been imposed on or wrested from him. In effect, insanity, blindness, and survival were the only choices that he had made for himself.

The Ironhand had come to stand near Linden. Now she rested a gentle hand on Linden's shoulder. "We believe as you do. The old man has become dear to us. And we see no point of resemblance between his plight and Lostson Longwrath's. For his sake, we pray only that 'eventually' will not be long delayed."

Thus she sanctioned Linden's desire to leave Liand's birthright in Anele's hands.

Then Coldspray stepped away. To her comrades, she said, "Come, Swordmainnir. A task awaits us. We must grieve with effort and stone, having no other caamora caamora."

At once, the other Giants readied themselves to depart. They seemed grimly eager to confront their own pain and loss. Only Cirrus Kindwind did not join them. Indicating her maimed arm with a grimace, she rose from her knees to stand near Covenant.

Linden smelled sunrise in the air. Soon dawn would find its way into the canyon. Of course the Giants needed to grieve. How could they not, being who they were? Nevertheless she felt a primitive desire to hold them back. When they had honored Liand with their sorrow, the company would need to make decisions. But she had no idea what to do-or how to face being asked to choose. She had failed Jeremiah. And she had sacrificed Liand in the name of her failure. How could she answer her friends when they posed their questions again?

Forcing herself, she nodded to Rime Coldspray. "I'll wait here. Maybe Covenant will recover. Or Pahni and Bhapa will come back. There might be something that I can do for them."

Certainly she had done nothing to heal the Giants' burns and gashes, or Stave's. In spite of her a.s.sertions to the Humbled, she feared the blackness of her power.

"That is well," a.s.sented the Ironhand. "We will return when we are content."

Without more words, the leader of the Swordmainnir turned her back on the stream and strode away. Flanked by her comrades, she rose into the first gloom of dawn until she and they became one with the gloaming, discernible only by their troubled auras.

Sighing to herself, Linden considered the radiance of Loric's krill krill for a moment; looked at Galt's rigid stoicism and the for a moment; looked at Galt's rigid stoicism and the croyel croyel's quiescent malice and Jeremiah's emptiness. Briefly she wondered whether Stave might be able to offer some insight into her dilemmas, as he had done before.