The Wounded Land t2cotc-1

by Stephen R. Donaldson

  But Memla reacted in rage too thick for shouting. “By the Seven Hells!” she panted, “I will not have this. You have sworn nothing to me.” Brandishing her rukh, she faced Ceer. “If you do not dismount, I will burn you with my last breath, and all this company shall die for naught!”

  Memla! Covenant tried to yell. But he could not. He had nothing to offer her; his fear of wild magic choked him. Helplessly, he watched as Ceer hesitated, glanced toward Brinn. The Haruchai consulted together in silence, weighing their commitments. Then Ceer sprang to the ground and stepped out of Din's way.

  No! Covenant protested. She's going to get herself killed!

  He had no time to think. Gloaming occluded the atmosphere. The ravening Grim poised itself above Memla, focused on her fire. The heavens around the cloud remained impossibly cerulean; but the cloud itself was pitch and midnight. It descended as it seethed, dropping toward its victims.

  Under it, the air crackled as if it were being scorched.

  The Coursers skittered. Sunder took out his orcrest, then seized Hollian's hand and pulled her to the far side of the circle, away from Memla. The Haruchai flowed into defensive positions among the companions and the milling beasts.

  Amid the swirl of movement, Vain stood, black under black, as if he were inured to darkness.

  Hergrom placed himself near Vain. But Memla was planning to die; Linden was foundering in ill; and Covenant felt outraged by the unanswerable must must not‹i› of his ring. He yelled at Hergrom, “Let him take care of himself!”

  The next instant, he staggered to his knees. The air shattered with a heart-stopping concussion. The Grim broke into bits, became intense black flakes floating downward like a fall of snow.

  With fearsome slowness, they fell-crystals of sun-darkness, tangible night, force which not even stone could withstand.

  Howling defiance, Memla launched fire at the sky.

  Din bunched under her and charged out into the march of the creatures. A series of tremendous heaves carried beast and Rider toward the centre of the stream.

  The flakes of the Grim drifted in her direction, following the lodestone of her rukh. Its dense centre, the nexus of its might, passed beyond the quest.

  The creatures immediately mobbed her mount. Din let out a piercing scream at the tearing of claws and mandibles. Only the plunging of its hooves, the slash of its spurs, the thickness of its coat, protected it.

  Then the Grim fell skirling around her head. Her fire blazed: she lashed out, trying to keep herself and Din from being touched. Every flake her flame struck burst in a glare of darkness, and was gone. But for every flake she destroyed, she was assailed by a hundred more.

  Covenant watched her in an agony of helplessness, knowing that if he turned to his ring now he could not strike for her without striking her. The Grim was thickest around her; but its edges covered the march as well as the quest. The creatures were swept into confusion as killing bits as big as fists fell among them.

  Vermeil shot from Sunder's orcrest toward the darkened sun. Covenant yelled in encouragement. By waving the Sunstone back and forth, the Graveller picked flakes out of the air with his shaft, consuming them before they could reach him or Hollian.

  Around the company, the Haruchai dodged like dervishes. They used flails of pampas grass to strike down the flakes. Each flake destroyed the whip which touched it; but the Haruchai snatched up more blades and went on fighting.

  Abruptly, Covenant was thrust from his feet. A piece of blackness missed his face. Brinn pitched him past it, then jerked him up again. Heaving Covenant from side to side, Brinn danced among the falling Grim. Several flakes hit where they had been standing. Obsidian flares set fire to the grass.

  The grass began to burn in scores of places.

  Yet Vain stood motionless, with a look of concentration on his face. Flakes struck his skin, his tunic. Instead of detonating, they melted on him and ran hissing down his raiment, his legs, like water on hot metal.

  Covenant gaped at the Demondim-spawn, then lost sight of him as Brinn went dodging through the smoke.

  He caught a glimpse of Memla. She fought extravagantly for her life, hurled fire with all the outrage of her betrayal by the na-Mhoram. But the focus of the Grim formed a mad swarm around her. And the moiling creatures had already torn Din to its knees. In patches, its hide had been bared to the bone.

  Without warning, a flake struck the Courser's head. Din collapsed, tumbling the Rider headlong among the creatures.

  Memla! Covenant struggled to take hold of his power. But Brinn's thrusting and dodging reft nun of concentration. And already he was too late.

  Yet Ceer leaped forward with the calm abandon of the Haruchai. Charging into the savagery, he fought toward Memla.

  She regained her feet in a splash of fire. For an instant, she stood, gallant and tattered, hacking fury at the creatures. Ceer almost reached her.

  Then Covenant lost her as Brinn tore him out from under a black flurry. Flames and Haruchai reeled about him; the flakes were everywhere. But he fought upright in time to see Memla fall with a scream of darkness in her chest.

  As she died and dropped her rukh, the four remaining Coursers went berserk.

  They erupted as if only her will had contained the madness of their fear. Yowling among the grassfires, two of them dashed out of the circle and fled across the savannah. Another ploughed into the breach the Grim had made in the march. As it passed, Ceer suddenly appeared at its side. Fighting free of the creatures, he grabbed at the Courser's hair and used the beast to pull him away.

  The fourth beast attacked the company. Its vehemence caught the Haruchai unprepared. Its eyes burned scarlet as it plunged against Hergrom, struck him down with its chest.

  Hergrom had been helping Cail to protect Linden.

  Instantly, the beast reared at her.

  Cail tried to shove her aside. She stumbled, fell the wrong way.

  Covenant saw her sprawl under the Courser's hooves. One of them clipped her head as the beast stamped, trying to crush her.

  Again, the Courser reared.

  Cail stood over her. Covenant could not strike without hitting the Haruchai. He fought to run forward.

  As the Courser hammered down, Cail caught its legs. For one impossible moment, he held the huge animal off her. Then it began to bend him.

  Linden!

  With a prodigious effort, Cail heaved the Courser to the side. Its hooves missed Linden as they landed.

  Blood appeared. From shoulder to elbow, Cail's left arm had been ripped open by one of the beast's spurs.

  It reared again.

  Covenant's mind went instantly white with power. But before he could grasp it, use it, Brinn knocked him away from another cluster of flakes. The grass was giddy fire and death, whirling. He flipped to his feet and swung back toward Linden; but his heart had already frozen within him.

  As his vision cleared, he saw Sunder hurl a blast of Sunbane-fire which struck the Courser's chest, knocking it to its knees. Lurching upright again, it pounded its pain away from the quest.

  But Linden lay under the Grim, surrounded by growing fires, and did not move.

  Twenty Two: Plain of Fire

  FIRES leaped in front of him, obscuring her from his sight. The Grim-fall darkened the air. The thrashing and clatter of the creatures filled his ears. He could not see if Linden were still alive. Brinn kept heaving him from side to side, kept lashing handfuls of grass around his head.

  Sunder's fire scored the atmosphere like straight red lightning. Now the corrosive flakes began to concentrate around him.

  Covenant broke free of Brinn, went surging toward Linden.

  Hergrom had lifted her from the ground. The Haruchai carried her in an elaborate dance of evasion. She hung limp in his arms. Blood seeping from the back of her head matted her hair.

  An argent shout gathered in Covenant's chest.

  But as he raised his head to howl power, he saw the blackness around the sun fraying. Pestilent
ial red glistered through the ebony. The last Grim-flakes were drifting toward Sunder's head. The Graveller was able to consume them all.

  At once, Covenant locked his throat, left the wild magic unspoken. In a rush, he reached Hergrom and Linden.

  Cail stood nearby. He had torn a strip from his tunic; with Ham's help, he bound the cloth as a tourniquet about his arm. His ripped flesh bled heavily.

  The other Haruchai were marked with smoke and fire, but had not been injured. And Sunder and Hollian were unharmed, though his exertions left the Graveller tottering. Hollian supported him.

  Vain stood a short distance away as if nothing had happened. Flames licked about his feet like crushed serpents.

  Covenant ignored them all. Linden's visage was lorn alabaster. Blood stained her wheaten tresses. Her lips wore an unconscious grimace of pain. He tried to take her from Hergrom's arms; but Hergrom would not release her.

  “Ur-Lord.” Brinn's alien voice seemed incapable of urgency. “We must go. Already the gap closes.”

  Covenant pulled uselessly at Hergrom's grasp. It was intolerable that she might die! She was not meant to end like this. Or why had she been Chosen? He called out to her, but did not know how to reach her.

  “Covenant!” Sunder's ragged breathing made his tone hoarse. “It is as Brinn says. The na-Mhoram-in spent her life to provide this passage. We must go.”

  Memla. That name pierced Covenant. She had given her life. Like Lena. And so many others. With a shudder, he turned from Hergrom. His hands groped for support. “Yes.” He could hardly hear himself through the flames. “Let's go.”

  At once, the Haruchai sprang into motion. Harn and Stell led the way; Hergrom and Brinn followed with Covenant; Cail guarded Sunder and Hollian. They paid no attention to Vain. In a body, they dodged the grassfires toward the breach in the march.

  The creatures milled insanely around the scorched and pitted ground where Memla had fallen. Their leaders had already marched out of sight, incognizant of what had happened behind them. But more warped beings poured constantly from the south. They would have overrun the company immediately; but their own dead delayed them. The arriving creatures fell on the many slain and injured, tearing flesh apart with claws and mandibles, feeding ravenously. And the fires added fear to their hunger.

  Into the confusion, the Haruchai guided Covenant and the Stonedownors.

  The quest appeared small and fragile beside those large, blind creatures, vulnerable against those ferocious jaws, those plated limbs. But Brinn's people threaded the roil with uncanny stealth. And whenever a creature blundered toward them, Stell and Ham struck cunningly, breaking the antennae so that the creature could not locate its prey. Thus maimed, the beasts were swept into mortal combat with other creatures. Covenant, Sunder, and Hollian were impelled past gaping jaws, under rearing bellies, across moments of clear ground, as if their lives were preserved by the charm of Haruchai competence.

  A few shreds of red cloth marked the place of Memla's death, unambergrised by any grave or chance for mourning.

  Running as well as they could, the companions broke into the thick grass beyond the march. Creatures veered to follow. With all their strength, Stell and Harn attacked the grass, forcing a way through it. Only Vain did not make haste. He had no need for haste: every creature which touched him fell dead, and was devoured by the oncoming surge.

  A short distance into the grass, Ceer joined the company. He did not speak; but the object he held explained what he had done.

  Memla's rukh.

  The sight of it halted Covenant. Possibilities reeled through his head. He grappled to take hold of them.

  But he had no time. A sharp crepitation cut the grass like a scythe; thousands of creatures were chewing their way in pursuit.

  Brinn thrust Covenant forward. The company ran.

  Ceer, Stell, Brinn, and Harn dropped back to defend the rear. Now Cail led. In spite of his wounded arm and the abrasion of the raw, stiff grass, he forced a path with his body. Hergrom followed, carrying Linden; and Covenant crowded on Hergrom's heels, with Hollian and Sunder behind him.

  The creatures gave chase as if they were prepared to reap the savannah in order to feast on human flesh. The noise of their charge hunted the company like fire.

  Cail attacked the thick blades with all the ancient valour of the Haruchai; but he could not open a path swiftly enough to outdistance the pursuit. Covenant soon began to waver in exhaustion. He was still convalescing from the soothtell. Sunder and Hollian were in little better condition. Linden lay like defeat in Hergrom's arms. And Cail left smears of blood across the grass.

  In the back of Covenant's desperation, a demand panted. Use your ring! But he could not, could not. He was so weak. He began to lose ground. Cail and Hergrom seemed to fade through the whipping backlash of the grass. If he let the venom rise in him, he did not know what he would kill. He heard himself yelling as if his exertions were a knife in his chest; but he could not silence the pain.

  Suddenly, Brinn was at his side. Speaking only loud enough to be heard, the Haruchai reported, “Cail has found a place which may be defended.”

  Covenant staggered, fell thrashing among serrated grass-spears. A miasma of rot clogged his breathing. But Brinn heaved him back to his feet. Vertigo whirled through him. Clinging to Brinn's shoulder as if it were the only solid thing left in the world, he let the Haruchai half carry him forward.

  Cail's path led to a pile of boulders rising incongruously out of the savannah, like a cairn left by Giants. It stood half again as high the surrounding grass. Hergrom had already climbed to the crown, set Linden down in relative safety, and returned to help Sunder and Hollian ascend. Ignoring his pain, Cail joined Hergrom. Stell and Harn followed. They caught Covenant when Brinn and Ceer boosted him upward.

  He scrambled to Linden's side, fought down his weakness, tried to examine her. Lifting her head, parting her hair as gently as he could with his numb fingers, he found that the wound in her scalp did not appear serious. The bleeding had almost ceased. Yet she remained unconscious. All her muscles were limp. Her face looked like the aftermath of a battle. His truncated senses could not measure her condition. He was useless to her.

  Sunder and Hollian climbed up to him. Kneeling beside Linden, Sunder scrutinized her. Fatigue and trepidation dragged at his features. “Ah, Linden Avery,” he breathed. “This is a sore mischance.”

  Covenant stifled a groan and sought to contradict the dismay in Sunder's tone. “It doesn't look that serious.”

  The Graveller avoided Covenant's stare. “The injury itself-Perhaps even Cail's hurt does not threaten his life. But this is a sun of pestilence.” He faltered into silence,

  “Ur-Lord,” Hollian said tightly, “any wound is fatal under a sun of pestilence. There is no healing for the Sunbane sickness.”

  “None?” The word was torn from Covenant.

  “None,” Sunder rasped through his teeth. And Hollian said with pain in her gaze, “None that is known to the people of the Land. If the Clave has knowledge of a cure-”

  She did not need to complete her thought. Covenant understood her; Memla was dead. Because she was honest, she had turned against the na-Mhoram; because she was brave she had drawn the Grim onto herself; and because Covenant had not used his wild magic, she was dead. His fear had cost her her life.

  He had cost the company even the bare possibility that she might have known how to treat Linden. And Cail.

  Any wound is fatal.

  And that was not all. The Coursers were gone. The quest had no supplies.

  It was his fault, because he had been afraid. With power, he tilled. Without power, he caused people to die.

  Memla had given her life for him.

  Eyes burning, he rose dangerously to his feet. The height of his perch threatened him; but he ignored it as if he were impervious to vertigo, or lost.

  “Brinn!”

  The Haruchai had ranged themselves defensively around the rocks at the level of the
grass tops. Over his shoulder, Brinn said, “Ur-Lord?”

  “Why did you let Memla die?”

  Brinn replied with a shrug. “The choice was hers.” His confidence in his own rectitude seemed immaculate. “Ceer made offer of his life. She refused.”

  Covenant nodded. Memla had refused. Because he had told her he could not control his ring.

  He was not satisfied with Brinn's answer. The Bloodguard had once made a similar decision about Kevin-and had never forgiven themselves for the outcome. But such questions did not matter now. Memla was dead. Linden and Cail were going to die. Blinking at the heat in his eyes, he looked around him.

  The quest was poised on the mound of boulders-all except Vain, who remained below, as if he were comfortable among the grass and the stench. The jungle lay out of sight to the west. In all directions, the savannah stretched to the horizons, an inland sea of grey-green, waving lightly in the breeze.

  But it wore a scar of bare dirt running imponderably northward. And from this scar, a similar swath had veered toward the company's knoll. Already, the fires of the Grim had faded to smoke and smouldering. Freed from that peril, the creatures rushed in a straight line toward the boulders. The grass boiled as it was thrust aside, tramped down, eaten. Soon the knoll stood alone among a seethe of beasts.

  Covenant could barely discern Vain. The Demondim-spawn held his ground with perfect nonchalance, and every creature which touched him died.

  The Haruchai were ready when the attack began. As the creatures scrambled up the rocks, Brinn and his people used the advantage of elevation to break each assailant's antennae, then strove to dislodge the creature so that it fell back into the boil and was consumed.

  They were surprisingly successful. Their strength, accuracy, and balance made them effective; and the fallen beasts slowed the rest of the attack.