On his hands and knees, Anele crept forward a little way, leaving the protection of the wall as if he wanted to be near Linden.
The Master studied her with apparent disinterest. “What became of Brinn and Cail?”
She sighed. Such things should have been common knowledge; the stuff of legends. Sunder and Hollian had heard the story. The Giants of the Search had participated in the events. Surely they had told the tale?
What had happened during the millennia of her absence? What had gone wrong?
Stung by loss, she replied stiffly, “Brinn decided to challenge ak-Haru Kenaustin Ardenol. Otherwise we wouldn’t have been able to approach the One Tree.” She and her companions had been lost in mist until Brinn had released them. “The Guardian was invisible. Brinn didn’t stand a chance.” Gaps in the gravid mist had allowed glimpses of his struggle. “But he found a way. When the Guardian drove him off a precipice, he dragged Kenaustin Ardenol with him. He bought us access to the One Tree by surrendering his life.
“We thought he was dead.” No living flesh could have survived the punishment Brinn had taken, or the fall from that height. “But his surrender defeated the Guardian. Instead of dying, he took Kenaustin Ardenol’s place. He became the ak-Haru.”
The Guardian of the One Tree.
“As for Cail-”
Linden paused to swallow memories and grief. Stave waited for her like a man who could not be swayed.
Again Anele advanced slightly. Apparently her tales meant something to him.
“Your people judged him pretty harshly,” she told the Haruchai when she was ready to continue. “He was faithful to Covenant and the Search,” and finally to Linden herself, “for months, and they practically beat him to death. They considered him a failure.”
And Cail had accepted their denunciation.
“But in spite of that,” she went on, “he helped us against the Clave and the Banefire.” Against Gibbon Raver and the na-Mhoram’s Grim. “He didn’t leave us until Covenant put out the Banefire, and we were all safe.”
All but Grimmand Honninscrave, who had given his life to rend samadhi Sheol.
There she stopped. Stave gave no sign that he had understood her answer; that the heritage of his people meant anything to him. Yet he was not done. In the same awkward, ungiving tone, he asked, “When Cail departed from you, where did he go?”
Again Linden restrained an impulse to reach for Covenant’s ring. “Your people called him a failure,” she repeated. “Where else could he go? He went to look for the merewives.”
Their song had planted a glamour in his soul which he had not wished to refuse. Bereft of home and kinship and purpose, he had embarked on a quest for the depths of the sea.
If Stave challenged her further, she feared that she would rage at him. Like all of those who had been lost in the Land’s service, Brinn and Cail deserved more respect than he appeared to give them.
However, he did not demand more answers. Instead he studied her flatly. His mien conveyed an impression of absence, as if he were no longer entirely present in the room. Then without transition he seemed to return. Holding both fists together at the level of his heart with his arms extended, he gave her a formal bow.
“You are Linden Avery the Chosen,” he said uncomfortably, “as you have declared. We do not doubt you.
“Be free among us.” Reaching behind him, he held the curtain aside for her. “Tell us how we may honour your fidelity to ur-Lord Thomas Covenant and your triumph over Corruption’
Sudden relief nearly dropped Linden to her knees. Thank God! She had hardly dared to acknowledge how badly she needed his aid: his, and that of all the Haruchai.
She let her head drop mutely, a bow of her own to repay his acceptance. You need the Staff of Law. Perhaps now she would be able to begin her search.
Scrambling forward, Anele startled her by throwing his arms around her calves. “Free Anele!” he panted. “Oh, free him. They will slay him and name it kindness.”
Linden looked down at his face. Shadows shed by the shifting flame of the lamp seemed to chase a stream of expressions across his visage: terror and hope, disgust, profound bafflement. Light in flickers turned his moonstone eyes to milk.
He must have meant that as a prisoner he would be exposed to a caesure. The Haruchai had never been killers. They fought with transcendent skill: they slew when the exigencies which they served required it. But to harm a forlorn creature like Anele was surely beneath them.
Yet she had promised the old man her care. She could not set aside her word merely because she was weak and in need.
Groaning to herself, she dragged up her head to meet Stave’s gaze.
“You heard him.” The words sighed between her lips. “Honour me by letting him go. He’s just a crazy old man.” A madman rife with secrets and inbred Earthpower. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone.”
Stave regarded her implacably. “Linden Avery,” he replied at last, “we regret that you have asked this of us. We wish to honour you, but in this we will not comply. We have taken upon ourselves the guardianship of the Land. We are its Masters because we cannot preserve the Land from Corruption in any other way. We do not permit such beings as this Anele to work their will. They serve Corruption, whatever they may believe of themselves.”
Anele clung harder to Linden’s legs, breathing in sharp gasps like mouthfuls of dread. If he leaned on her, he would topple her to the floor. Her sense of balance already had too many flaws.
“Anele.” She stooped to him, urged him to ease his grasp. “I won’t leave you. You can trust me.” The thought of freedom blew to dust in her chest. “If the Masters won’t let you go, I won’t go either. I’ll stay with you until they come to their senses.”
She knew the Haruchai too well to believe that they would change their minds.
Anele groaned as if she had betrayed him. Dropping his head, he pressed his face against her shins. However, he loosened his hold slightly; enough to let her keep her feet.
Like a shrug, Stave released the curtain. The leather fell back into place, swaying heavily.
“All right,” Linden told him faintly. “I’m staying here. But I need answers. I’ve been away for a long time. I need to know what’s going on.”
The Haruchai acquiesced with a slight nod.
She still did not know whether she could trust him.
She ached to learn who held the Staff of Law-and why it had apparently lost its effectiveness. But she withheld those questions. First she needed to test Stave as he had tested her; needed to hear him prove himself.
She wobbled for a moment, barely caught herself. “Forgive me,” she breathed as though he might disdain her weakness. “I’m very tired. It’s hard to think.
“What is it about Anele that worries you? Why is it so important to keep him prisoner?”
What harm could the poor old man possibly do?
Stolidly Stave responded, “He is a man of Earthpower.”
“You can see that?” Anele had told her that the Masters were not hampered by Kevin’s Dirt, but she had been suspicious of his sanity.
“You have stood upon Kevin’s Watch, have you not?” the Haruchai replied like a shrug. “We felt the force of wild magic there. From that height, you surely beheld a yellow cloud like a shroud upon the Land. Did it not appear to cloak the Land in evil?” When she nodded, he said, “It is named Kevin’s Dirt. It has blinded the folk of the Land. It deprives them of their”- he seemed to search for a word- “penetration. The life of the Land has been closed to them.
“But we are Haruchai. We retain our discernment. Thus we are able to guard the Land.”
In spite of his mental confusion, Anele had told her the truth-about a number of things.
But Stave’s explanation raised another question. Guard the Land from what? He and his people were strong and fearless; but they had no power to oppose evils like Kevin’s Dirt and the Falls. She was not sure that they could be opposed.
What else threatened the Land?
She kept that fear to herself, however. She did not mean to be distracted from Anele’s plight.
“All right,” she repeated. “He’s full of Earthpower. So what? How does that make him dangerous?”
“We do not know,” Stave admitted. “Yet the Earthpower is his. It cannot be taken from him. Therefore we will not release him.”
“Because you think he might use it someday? What’s wrong with that?”
It was Earthpower, the vital substance of the Land, and infinitely precious.
“You do not comprehend,” the Haruchai informed her dispassionately. “Any use of Earthpower serves Corruption.”
Now Linden stared at him in dismay. “What, Earthpower? You think Earthpower is wrong?”
How could any sentient being consider the spirit and essence of the Land evil?
Straining at her knees, Anele gasped, “Do not permit them! They are fierce and terrible. Can you not see? They will destroy Anele.” Then he cried out, “He is the hope of the Land!”
Convulsively he began to cough as if he were suffocating on sorrow.
Stave ignored the old man. “You are indeed weary, Linden Avery,” he stated. “You have not heard me. Earthpower is not “wrong”. That is impossible. My words were that any use of Earthpower serves Corruption.”
Linden reeled inwardly, staggered by too many assaults on her perceptions. He is the hope of the Land- Who, Anele? How? And how could using Earthpower serve Lord Foul? The two were fundamentally antithetical. Any use-? How in sanity’s name had Stave’s people reached such a grotesque conclusion?
She could not-
Suddenly urgent, she stooped again, clasping her hands to the sides of Anele’s face to demand his attention. “Anele, listen to me. I heard you. I won’t forget. But I can’t deal with this many questions at the same time. I need you to let go of me. I need you to be patient. Before I do anything else, I have to concentrate on what Stave is saying.
“I’ll stay with you. I’ll get to the bottom of all this. Somehow. “But first you have to let go.”
Anele’s eyes stared into hers blindly. Bits and streaks of lamplight cast desperation across his features. Between bursts of coughing, he groaned deep in his chest.
By slow increments, he released her.
When his arms had finally dropped free, he crawled back to the rear wall and curled himself against it as though he found more comfort in blank stone than in her avowals.
Cursing to herself, Linden faced the Haruchai again.
“You’d better explain yourself,” she said darkly. “Earthpower is good, but using it isn’t?” All life in the Land throve on Earthpower. “How is that even possible?”
And who in hell gave you the right to judge the natural essence of any living thing?
Stave may have shrugged: shadows made her uncertain. The scar on his cheek gleamed like a small grin in the wavering light. “We do not account for it;” he replied. “That is not our place. We lack the lore for such explanations. We only remember, and learn.
“But the Staff of Law which you formed was soon lost. Doubtless if it had remained in wise hands, the peril of Earthpower would be diminished.
“You are Linden-”
“Just a minute.” Without knowing what she did, she covered her ears to close out his words; as if she might cause them to be unsaid. “Give me a minute.”
The Staff was lost? That explained-
It explained too much.
But it should have been impossible. Soon lost-People like Sunder and Hollian would not have been careless with something so precious. And after his defeat Lord Foul would have needed centuries, millennia, to recover his strength.
The touch of hope which she had felt earlier fell to ashes as she lowered her hands. Without the Staff of Law, the Land was effectively defenceless. Cryptic evils like the caesures and Kevin’s Dirt might prove as ruinous as the Sunbane had ever been.
“This is terrible,” she began weakly. “I had no idea.” She could barely force herself to meet Stave’s flat gaze. “I don’t know what to say.”
Unconscious, she had heard Covenant tell her, You need the Staff of Law. But if the Staff were lost-Lord Foul may have sent Covenant’s voice to taunt her, as he had caused her to be tormented during her translation to the Land.
“Who lost it? How could this happen?”
Anele squirmed against the wall, apparently trying to find a comfortable position.
“We do not know what transpired,” the Haruchai replied. “We were not present. We know only that the new Staff of Law was delivered into the hands of the Graveler Sunder and the eh-Brand Hollian when the Sunbane had been quenched. Among their kind, they were long-lived, and for perhaps five score years they served the Land with great care, healing what they could, and easing what they could not. Without them, many villages would not have survived the abrupt cessation of the Sunbane, for the folk of the Land knew no other way to live.
“Yet at last Sunder and Hollian grew weary and wished to set aside their labours. To their son they gave the Staff so that he might continue their service. Of a sudden, however, he disappeared, and the Staff with him.” A liquid rattle disturbed Anele’s respiration. “We have discovered no account of his doom. The Staff has not been found, though the Haruchai and the folk of the Land sought for it long and arduously.”
Stricken, Linden sighed, “All right. Go on. I just”- weakly she retreated to the nearest wall and slid down it to the floor- “just need to sit down.”
She lacked the courage to hear the rest of Stave’s explanation on her feet.
Apparently considerate, he allowed her a moment to compose herself. Then he began again.
“You are Linden Avery the Chosen. The Haruchai are known to you. You must grasp that to speak as you do is”- again he hunted for the right word- “graceless for us. Our thoughts are not easily contained in uttered speech. I can only assure you that we remember, and learn.
“And we remember much.
“The Haruchai recall High Lord Kevin son of Loric in his grandeur, with Revelstone his glorious habitation, and all the Council at his side in strength and peace.”
As he continued, Stave’s voice took on a slight sing-song cadence. Occasionally he touched on details which had been mentioned to Linden by Covenant and others, but most of what he said was new to her.
“Many times many centuries ago,” he related, “the Haruchai marched from their icy fastness in the Westron Mountains seeking opposition against which they might measure themselves. They had no wish to diminish or command those who dwelt elsewhere. Rather they sought to discover their own true strength in contest. Therefore they entered the Land. And therefore, when they had seen the might of High Lord Kevin and felt the astonishment of his works, our distant ancestors challenged him.
“However, he declined contention. He desired only peace and beauty, he treasured the richness of the Earth’s life, and he welcomed the Haruchai in friendship and honour.
“Your words will not convey his effect upon our people. Above all else, they desired to show themselves equal to those admirable Lords. Because they could not test themselves in combat, they elected rather to demonstrate their worth in service.
“Together they swore an undying Vow, enabled and preserved by Earthpower. They became the Bloodguard, five hundred Haruchai who set aside the fierce love of their Women and the stark beauty of their homes, and who neither slept nor rested nor wavered in the Lords’ defence. If one were slain in that service, the Vow brought another to take his place.
“For centuries the Bloodguard kept faith. They knew the marvels of Andelain and the eldritch Forests, extravagant with Earthpower. They knew the love and fealty of the Unhomed, the Giants of Seareach. They knew the broad backs and strong thews and boundless fidelity of the Ranyhyn, the great horses of Ra, in whom the Earthpower shone abundantly. In their Vow, the Bloodguard themselves became men of wonder.”
An undercurren
t in Stave’s tone suggested that he would have gladly lived in that ancient time; shared that Vow.
“Yet High Lord Kevin’s greatness was misled by Corruption. In his love of peace and health, he countenanced Corruption’s place among the Council of Lords, not recognising the truth of the Despiser. And from that honourable blindness arose the enduring ills which have befallen the Land. For when Corruption unveiled his face, he had grown too puissant to be defeated in any contest of arms and powers, though the attempt was made at great cost.
“The Bloodguard burned to challenge the Despiser themselves, to exceed his might with their own valour. They believed that they were indomitable. Corruption had not yet taught them otherwise.
“But the High Lord forbade them. He could not bear to chance that they might fail and fall. Concealing the darkness in his heart, he ordered the Bloodguard from the Land. And because they honoured him-because they trusted him-they obeyed his will, dispersing themselves among the mountains.”
A note of sadness entered the faint music of Stave’s tone. “They did not grasp that darkness had mastered the High Lord’s heart. In despair he had conceived a stratagem of desperation. By his command, both the Bloodguard and the Unhomed were barred from the Upper Land. Likewise he sent the folk of the Land from their homes, and instructed the Ramen to guide the Ranyhyn away. Then he met with Corruption in Kiril Threndor, and there challenged the Despiser to the Ritual of Desecration.”
Bits of lamplight reflected from Stave’s gaze as if his eyes were full of embers and kindling, primed for fire.
“It is said that Corruption acceded gleefully. Desecration is his demesne, and he knew as High Lord Kevin did not that from such an expression of pain no life or being or power could emerge unscathed.”
Linden lowered her head to her knees to rest her throbbing neck. She remembered Kevin’s tormented shade as keenly as the cut of a blade.
Anele lay hugging himself with his knees against his chest. He had turned to face the wall, away from Linden and Stave. He may have fallen asleep.
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