But the Guard lay on the floor, coughing up the last of its life. Over the husta stood Hergrom. He was poised to spring.
Flatly he said, “Kemper, if you have harmed him you will answer for it with blood.”
Covenant saw everything. He heard everything.
Emptily he said, “Don’t touch me.”
SIXTEEN: The Gaddhi’s Punishment
For a long time, Linden Avery could not sleep. The stone of the Sandhold surrounded her, limiting her percipience. The very walls seemed to glare back at her as if they strove to protect a secret cunning. And at the edges of her range moved the hustin like motes of ill. The miscreated Guards were everywhere, jailers for the Chatelaine as well as for the company. She had watched the courtiers at their banquet and had discerned that their gaiety was a performance upon which they believed their safety depended. But there could be no safety in the donjon which the Kemper had created for himself and his petulant gaddhi.
Her troubled mind longed for the surcease of unconsciousness. But underneath the wariness and alarm which the Sandhold inspired lay a deeper and more acute distress. The memory of the Kemper’s geas squirmed in the pit of her heart. Kasreyn had simply looked at her through his ocular, and instantly she had become his tool, a mere adjunct of his intent. She had not struggled, had not even understood the need to struggle. His will had possessed her as easily as if she had been waiting for it all her life.
The Haruchai had been able to resist. But she had been helpless. Her percipient openness had left her no defense. She was unable to completely close the doors the Land had opened in her.
As a result, she had betrayed Thomas Covenant. He was bound to her by yearnings more intimate than anything she had ever allowed herself to feel for any man; and she had sold him as if he had no value to her. No, not sold; she had been offered nothing in return. She had simply given him away. Only Brinn’s determination had saved him.
That hurt surpassed the peril of the Sandhold. It was the cusp of all her failures. She felt like a rock which had been struck too hard or too often. She remained superficially intact; but within her fault lines spread at every blow. She no longer knew how to trust herself.
In her bedchamber after the banquet, she mimicked sleep because Cail was with her. But his presence also served to keep her awake. When she turned her face to the wall, she felt his hard aura like a pressure against her spine, denying what little courage she had left. He, too, did not trust her.
Yet the day had been long and arduous; and at last weariness overcame her tension. She sank into dreams of stone—the irrefragable gutrock of Revelstone. In the hold of the Clave, she had tried to force herself bodily into the granite to escape Gibbon-Raver. But the stone had refused her. According to Covenant, the former inhabitants of the Land had found life and beauty in stone; but this rock had been deaf to every appeal. She still heard the Raver saying, The principal doom of the Land is upon your shoulders. Are you not evil? And she had cried out in answer, had been crying ever since in self-abomination, No! Never!
Then the voice said something else. It said, “Chosen, arise. The ur-Lord has been taken.”
Sweating nightmares, she flung away from the wall. Cail placed a hand on her shoulder; the wail which Gibbon had spawned sprang into her throat. But the door stood open, admitting light to the bedchamber. Cail’s mien held no ill glee. Instinctively she bit down her unuttered cry. Her voice bled as she gasped, “Taken?” The word conveyed nothing except inchoate tremors of alarm.
“The ur-Lord has been taken,” Cail repeated inflexibly. “The Lady Alif came for him in the Kemper’s name. She has taken him.”
She stared at him, groped through the confusion of her dreams. “Why?”
Shadows accentuated Call’s shrug. “She said, ‘Kasreyn of the Gyre desires speech with Thomas Covenant.’ ”
Taken him. A knife-tip of apprehension trailed down her spine. “Is Brinn with him?”
The Haruchai did not falter. “No.”
At that, her eyes widened. “You mean you let—?” She was on her feet. Her hands grabbed at his shoulders. “Are you crazy? Why didn’t you call me?”
She was fractionally taller than he; but his flat gaze out-sized her. He did not need words to repudiate her.
“Oh goddamn it!” She tried to thrust him away, but the effort only shoved her backward. Spinning, she flung toward the door. Over her shoulder, she snapped, “You should’ve called me.” But she already knew his answer.
In the corridor, she found the Giants. Honninscrave and Seadreamer were straightening their sarks, dressing hurriedly. But the First stood ready, with her shield on her arm, as if she had slept that way. Ceer was also there. Vain and Findail had not moved. But Brinn and Hergrom were nowhere to be seen.
The First answered Linden’s hot visage sternly.
“It appears that we have miscounted the Kemper’s cunning. The tale I have from Ceer. While we slept, the Lady Alif approached Hergrom where he stood with Vain and this Elohim. Speaking words of courtesy and blandishment, she drew nigh and into his face cast a powder which caused him slumber. Neither Vain nor Findail”—a keen edge ran through her tone—“saw fit to take action in this matter, and she turned from them as if their unconcern were a thing to be trusted. She then approached Brinn and the Giantfriend. Brinn also fell prey to her powder of slumber, and she bore Covenant away.
“Sensing the unwonted somnolence of his comrades, Ceer left me. In this passage, he saw the Lady Alif with Covenant, retreating.” She pointed down the corridor. “He went in pursuit. Yet ere he could gain them, they vanished.”
Linden gaped at the First.
“The slumber of Brinn and Hergrom was brief,” the Swordmain concluded. “They have gone in search of the Giantfriend—or of the Kemper. It is my thought that we must follow.”
The labor of Linden’s heart cramped her breathing. What could Kasreyn possibly want from Covenant, that he was willing to risk so much coercion and stealth to gain it?
What else but the white ring?
A surge of hysteria rose up in her. She fought for self-command. Fear galvanized her. She turned on Ceer, demanded, “How could they have vanished?”
“I know not.” His countenance remained impassive. “At a certain place beyond these doors”—he searched momentarily for a word—“an acuteness came upon them. Then they were before me no longer. The means of their vanishment I could not discover.”
Damn it to hell! With a wrench, Linden dismissed that unanswerable how. To the First, she gritted, “Kemper’s Pitch.”
“Aye.” In spite of her empty scabbard, the Swordmain was whetted for action. “Kemper’s Pitch.” With a jerk of her head, she sent Honninscrave and Seadreamer down the corridor.
They broke into a trot as Ceer joined them. At once, the First followed; then Linden and Cail ran after them, too concerned for Covenant to think about the consequences of what they were doing.
At the first corner, she glanced back, saw Vain and Findail following without apparent haste or effort.
Almost at once, the company encountered the Guards that had been stationed outside their rooms earlier. The faces of the hustin registered brutish surprise, uncertainty. Some of them stepped forward; but when the Giants swept defiantly past them, the hustin did not react. Mordantly Linden thought that Kasreyn’s attention must be concentrated elsewhere.
Like the Haruchai, the Giants had obviously learned more about the layout of the Second Circinate than she had been able to absorb. They threaded their way unerringly through the halls and passages, corridors and chambers. In a short time, they reached the forecourt near the stairways to the Tier of Riches. Upward they went without hesitation.
The Tier was as brightly lit as ever; but at this time of night it was deserted. Honninscrave promptly chose an intricate route through the galleries. When he arrived in the resting-place of the longsword at which the First had gazed with such desire, he stopped. Looking intently at her, he asked in a soft voice, “W
ill you not arm yourself?”
“Tempt me not.” Her features were cold. “Should we appear before the gaddhi or his Kemper bearing a gift which was denied us, we will forfeit all choice but that of battle. Let us not rashly put our feet to that path.”
Linden felt dark shapes rising from the Second Circinate. “Guards,” she panted. “Somebody told them what to do.”
The First gave Honninscrave a nod of command. He swung away toward the stairs to The Majesty.
Linden ran dizzily after the Giants up the spiraling ascent. Her breathing was hard and sharp; the dry air cut at her lungs. She feared the hustin in The Majesty. If they, too, had been given orders, what could the company do against so many of them?
As she sprang out of the stairwell onto the treacherous floor of the Auspice-hall, she saw that her fears were justified. Scores of squat, powerful hustin formed an arc across the company’s way. They bristled with spears. In the faint light reflecting from the vicinity of the Auspice, they looked as intractable as old darkness.
The pursuing Guards had reached the bottom of the stairs.
“Stone and Sea!” hissed the First through her teeth. “Here is a gay pass.” Seadreamer took an impulsive step forward. “Hold, Giant,” she ordered softly. “Would you have us slain like cattle?” In the same tone, she addressed Linden over her shoulder. “Chosen, if any thought comes to you, be not shy to utter it. I mislike this peril.”
Linden did not respond. The posture of the Guards described the nature of Kasreyn’s intentions against Covenant eloquently. And Covenant was as defenseless as an infant. The Elohim had reft him of everything which might have protected him. She chewed silent curses in an effort to hold back panic.
The hustin advanced on the company.
The next moment, a high shout echoed across The Majesty:
“Halt!”
The Guards stopped. The ones on the stairs climbed a few more steps, then obeyed.
Someone began to thrust forward among the hustin. Linden saw a vehement head bobbing past their ears, accompanied by a thick flurry of yellow hair. The Guards parted involuntarily. Soon a woman stood before the company.
She was naked, as if she had just come from the gaddhi’s bed.
The Lady Alif.
She cast a look at the questers, daring them to take notice of her nudity. Then she turned to the Guards. Her voice imitated anger; but beneath the surface it quivered with temerity.
“Why do you accost the guests of the gaddhi?”
The porcine eyes of the hustin shifted uncomfortably toward her, back to the company. Their thoughts worked tortuously. After a pause, several of them answered, “These are not permitted to pass.”
“Not?” she demanded sharply. “I command you to admit them.”
Again the hustin were silent while they wrestled with the imprecision of their orders. Others repeated, “These are not permitted to pass.”
The Lady cocked her arms on her hips. Her tone softened dangerously. “Guards, do you know me?”
Hustin blinked at her. A few licked their lips as if they were torn between hunger and confusion. At last, a handful replied, “Lady Alif, Favored of the gaddhi.”
“Forsooth,” she snapped sarcastically. “I am the Lady Alif, Favored of the gaddhi Rant Absolain. Has Kasreyn granted you to refuse the commands of the gaddhi or his Favored?”
The Guards were silent. Her question was too complex for them.
Slowly, clearly, she said, “I command you in the name of Rant Absolain, gaddhi of Bhrathairealm and the Great Desert, to permit his guests passage.”
Linden held her breath while the hustin struggled to sort out their priorities. Apparently this situation had not been covered by their instructions; and no new orders came to their aid. Confronted by the Lady Alif’s insistence, they did not know what else to do. With a rustling movement like a sigh, they parted, opening a path toward the Auspice.
At once, the Favored faced the company. Her eyes shone with a hazardous revenge. “Now make haste,” she said quickly, “while Kasreyn is consumed by his intent against your Thomas Covenant, I have no cause to wish your companion well, but I will teach the Kemper that he is unwise to scorn those who labor in his service. Mayhap his pawns will someday gain the courage to defy him.” An instant later, she stamped her foot, sending out a tinkle of silver. “Go, I say! At any moment, he may recollect himself and countermand me.”
The First did not hesitate. Striding from circle to circle, she moved swiftly among the hustin. Ceer joined her. Honninscrave and Seadreamer followed, warding her back. Linden wanted to take a moment to question the Lady; but she had no time. Cail caught her arm, swung her after the Giants.
Behind the company, the Guards turned, reformed their ranks. Moving stiffly over the stone slabs, they followed Vain and Findail toward the Auspice.
When the Giants entered the brighter illumination around the throne, Brinn suddenly appeared out of the shadows. He did not pause to explain how he had come to be there. Flatly he said, “Hergrom has discovered the ur-Lord. Come.” Turning, he sped back into the darkness behind the gaddhi’s seat.
Linden glanced at the hustin. They were moving grimly, resolutely, but made no effort to catch up with the interlopers. Perhaps they had now been commanded to block any retreat.
She could not worry about retreat. Covenant was in the Kemper’s hands. She ran after the First and Ceer into the shadow of the Auspice.
Here, too, the wall was deeply carved with tormented shapes like a writhe of ghouls. Even in clear light, the doorway would have been difficult to find, for it was cunningly hidden among the bas-reliefs. But Brinn had learned the way. He went directly to the door.
It swung inward under the pressure of his hand, admitting the company to a narrow stair which gyred upward through the stone. Brinn led, with Honninscrave, Seadreamer, and then Ceer at his back. Linden followed the First. Urgency pulled at her heart, denying the shortness of her breath, the scant strength of her legs. She wanted to cry out Covenant’s name.
The stair seemed impossibly long; but at last it reached a door that opened into a large round chamber. The place was furnished and appointed like a seduction room. Braziers shed light over its intense blue rugs, its lush cushions and couches: the tapestries bedecking the walls depicted a variety of lurid scenes. Almost instantly, the incense in the air began to fill Linden’s lungs with giddiness.
Ahead of her, the Giants and Haruchai came to a halt. A husta stood there with its spear leveled at the questers, guarding the ironwork stair which rose from the center of the chamber.
This husta had no doubt of its duty. One cheek was discolored with bruises, and Linden saw other signs that the Guard had been in a fight. If Hergrom had indeed found Covenant, he must have passed through this chamber to do so. But the husta was impervious to its pains. It confronted the company fearlessly.
Brinn bounded forward. He feinted at the Guard, then dodged the spear and leaped for the railing of the stair.
The husta tracked him with the point of its spear to strike him in the back. But Seadreamer was already moving. With momentum, weight, and oaken strength, he delivered a blow which stretched the Guard out among the cushions like a sated lover.
As a precaution, Honninscrave jumped after the husta, caught hold of its spear and snapped the shaft.
The rest of the company rushed after Brinn.
The stairs took them even higher into the seclusion of Kemper’s Pitch.
Gripping the rail, Linden hauled herself from tread to tread, forced her leaden legs to carry her. The incense and the spiraling affected her like nightmare. She did not know how much farther she could ascend. When she reached the next level, she might be too weak to do anything except struggle for breath.
But her will held, carried her panting and dizzy into the lucubrium of the gaddhi’s Kemper.
Her eyes searched the place frenetically. This was clearly Kasreyn’s laboratory, where he wrought his arts. But she could not bring an
ything she saw into focus. Long tables covered with equipment, crowded shelves, strange contrivances seemed to reel around her.
Then her vision cleared. Beyond the spot where the Giants and Brinn had stopped lay a Guard. It was dead, sprawled in a congealing pool of its own rank blood. Hergrom stood over it like a defiance. Deliberately he nodded toward one side of the lucubrium.
Kasreyn was there.
In his own demesne, surrounded by his possessions and powers, he appeared unnaturally tall. His lean arms were folded like wrath over his chest; but he remained as still as Hergrom, as if he and the Haruchai were poised in an impasse. His golden ocular dangled from its ribbon around his neck. His son slept like a tumor on his back.
He was standing in front of a chair which bristled with bindings and apparatus.
Within the bindings sat Covenant.
He was looking at his companions; but his eyes were empty, as if he had no soul.
With her panting clenched between her teeth, Linden slipped past the Giants, hastened forward. For an instant, she glared at Kasreyn, let him see the rage naked in her face. Then she turned her back on him and approached Covenant.
Her hands shook as she tried to undo the bonds. They were too tight for her. When Brinn joined her, she left that task to him and instead concentrated on examining Covenant.
She found no damage. His flesh was unmarked. Behind the slackness of his mouth and the confusion of his beard, nothing had changed. She probed into his body, inspected his bones and organs with her percipience; but internally also he had suffered no harm.
His ring still hung like a fetter on the last finger of his half-hand.
Relief stunned her. For a moment, she became lightheaded with incomprehension, had to steady herself on Brinn’s shoulder as he released the ur-Lord. Had Hergrom stopped Kasreyn in time? Or had the Kemper simply failed? Had the silence of the Elohim surpassed even his arts?
Had it in fact defended Covenant from hurt?
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