Stephen Donaldson - Fatal Revenant

Pahni’s fingers dug into Liand’s shoulder; but she would not meet Linden’s gaze.

Liand continued to search Linden’s face for an answer to his underlying apprehension. “Galled by helplessness, we endeavoured to busy ourselves. Daily we bathed in Glimmermere to banish the bale of Kevin’s Dirt. The Ramen tended the mounts of the Masters. And Stave-as he later informed us-laboured to acquire the secret of silencing his thoughts. But Anele and I were without purpose or relief.

“He remained as he was, compliant and mumbling incoherently. Of him I knew only that he misliked the nearness of the Masters. I, however-” Liand shrugged at the memory. “I had no place in the defence of Lord’s Keep. My presence merely hindered the Masters. The Ramen sought a use for my aid, but their skills eluded me, though I have cared for horses since boyhood. I could discover no trace or trail of the Demondim-spawn. And Stave declined to guide me to the Aumbrie, declaring that the Masters would permit no approach to implements of Earthpower.

“Linden, the thought that I was barred from that which I had been advised to seek became anguish. In your company, I have encountered the greatness and import of the Land. But in your absence, I was no more than a foolish Stonedownor, superfluous and ignorant. Even the benison of Glimmermere gave me no solace. Were it not for Pahni’s attentiveness and generosity”- he smiled quickly at the young Cord- “I might have flung myself against the Demondim merely to relieve my futility.”

With an aborted snore, Anele raised his head, peered blindly around the room. Then he appeared to catch the scent of food. Muttering, “Anele is hungry,” he braced himself on Bhapa’s prompt support, climbed to his feet, and went at once to sit near the tray so that he could resume his interrupted meal.

If his temporary lucidity had left any aftereffects, they lay beyond the reach of Linden’s senses.

“Briefly, Liand,” muttered Mahrtiir in a low voice. “The Ringthane’s heart is sufficiently fraught. Do not dwell upon griefs which have passed.”

At once, Pahni turned to the Manethrall, apparently intending to defend Liand. But Mahrtiir silenced her with a frown, and she ducked her head again.

“I crave your pardon,” Liand said to Linden. The Manethrall speaks sooth. Your sorrows indeed defy utterance, for the fate of the Land rests with you. It is plain that the Unbeliever’s purpose has failed, and your son is lost to you. I speak of my plight only so that you may comprehend my transformation”- again he looked at the Ramen girl- “and Pahni’s dread.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Linden’s tone resembled Stave’s stoicism. “It’s going to be a long night, and there isn’t much that we can do until morning.” She might not be able to leave Revelstone until she found a way to help the Masters defeat the Demondim. “We don’t need to hurry.”

Liand’s countenance revealed his gratitude-as well as his alarm at her manner-as he resumed his explanation.

“On the fourth day from your disappearance, Stave approached me to announce that the time had come. He had learned to conceal his thoughts from the Masters. And the Masters themselves were heavily engaged by the Demondim. He conceived that we might therefore approach the Aumbrie without opposition. His kinsmen were too few to guard us closely.

“I accepted at once, though Pahni protested. I required some task or deed which might offer meaning to my days.

“Leaving Anele with the Ramen, we descended into the depths of Revelstone, where no lamps burned except that which Stave bore, and the neglected dust of many and many years had gathered heavily. There we entered a passage which appeared to serve no purpose, for it ended in blank stone. Glimmermere had refreshed my discernment, however, and when I had studied the wall for a time, I perceived a faint residue of glamour or theurgy.

“Though it was veiled from simple sight, a tracing of red outlined the shape of a portal. I have no knowledge of such matters, as you are aware. Yet to my senses, the tracing flowed toward a place of accentuation in the centre of the lintel. Testing me, perhaps, Stave offered no counsel. Nonetheless I dared to set my hand upon that accentuation. And when I had done so, a door became evident within the pattern of the lines.”

Linden listened closely, trying to prepare herself; bracing her resolve on Liand’s story. Some of its details begged for examination. Surely the Masters knew that he now held a piece of Sunstone? And they must have sensed Liand’s entrance into the Aumbrie. Why had they not taken the orcrest from him as soon as he found it?

His tone intensified as he continued. “Moved by an ancient magic beyond my ken, the door opened of its own accord, admitting us to corridors thick with dust and dank air. Thereafter Stave resumed his guidance, for the passages gave no hint of their design or intent. Soon the air grew nigh too foul to breathe, and Stave’s lamp faltered. Ere it failed, however, we came upon an iron door, heavy and dark, lying discarded upon the floor. And from the chamber which the door had once sealed shone the lumination of the moon at its full. Also I discerned an aura of eldritch vitality as poignant as Glimmermere’s, but immeasurably more complex. Indeed, I recognised nothing except that the atmosphere was compounded of Earthpower in a multitude of forms.

“To my inquiries,” Liand said, “Stave replied only that the chamber was the Aumbrie of the Clave, that the door had been wrested from its mounts by the ur-vile-made man or creature named Vain, and that none had seen a need to repair the door, guarded as it was by its outer theurgy. Then he did not speak for a time. Rather he appeared to listen for the inward speech of the Masters so that we might be forewarned if we were threatened. In silence, we entered the Aumbrie together.”

His effort to contain the wonder of what he had seen was plain: it showed in his grasp on the orcrest . As his fingers tightened, the stone began to glow softly, white as washed cotton, and clean as his heart.

“The chamber was large, perhaps twice the size of your quarters taken together, and clearly a storehouse for implements and talismans of aged puissance. Indeed, I was hardly able to advance against the radiance of Earthpower on every side.

“Tables crowded the floor as shelves covered the walls, their surfaces laden. Everywhere I saw scrolls and casks, amulets and torcs, periapts beyond my naming of them, swords of many shapes and fashions, staffs which compelled me to imagine that they had once been clasped by Lords. The light itself was emitted by three munificent caskets upon the shelves, as well as by some few objects upon the tables. Yet wherever I turned my senses, I beheld potencies of such transcendence that my spirit was dazzled by them.”

Suddenly Liand stopped. Easing his grip on the Sunstone, he let its light fade. Then he sat up straight, tucked the orcrest away in its pouch, and faced Linden with his hands braced on his thighs. An unexpected anger sharpened his tone.

“Linden, the proscriptions of the Masters no longer appear arrogant to me. Now I deem them madness. I comprehend that the Haruchai eschew weapons, trusting solely to strength and skill. This they deem necessary to their vision of themselves. And the Ramen are the servants of the Ranyhyn. They find no use in the exercise of theurgy, for the great horses do not require it of them. Yet the sheer waste of that which the Aumbrie contains staggers me. I discern no conscience in the denial-”

Linden interrupted him. Defending herself as much as Stave and the Masters, she stated heavily, “It isn’t that simple. You don’t just need the instrument. You have to know how to use it.”