Stephen Donaldson - Fatal Revenant

“Yet-” the Stonedownor tried to protest.

She did not let him go on. “Liand, what happened to you in that room? How many of those things did you have to examine before you found what you were looking for?”

“Many,” he admitted uncomfortably. Some felt inert to my touch, though their power was visible. Others refused my hand entirely. The markings upon the scrolls conveyed no meaning, and the radiance of the caskets forbade me to open them. For a time, I craved a sword or a staff, but they proffered no response.”

“You see?” said Linden more gently. “Maybe the Masters were wrong. I think they were. But it doesn’t matter now. All of the old knowledge, the lore of the Lords, even the Rede of the Clave. It’s gone. It’s been lost. And without it-” She lifted her shoulders in a stiff shrug. “I can use the Staff of Law because I made it. But I can only call up wild magic because Covenant left me his ring.” In a sense, she had inherited it from him. “I’m surprised you found even one thing that felt right to you.”

Although he seemed unconvinced, Liand nodded. “And all that the Aumbrie contained bewildered me. The orcrest I would have ignored without Stave’s counsel. When I beseeched his aid, however, he observed that I am a Stonedownor, and that therefore some object of stone might serve me.”

Glancing around at her friends, Linden saw that Mahrtiir’s impatience was growing, and even Bhapa appeared restless. Pahni held herself motionless with her hand on Liand’s shoulder and her body stiff. Only Stave remained impassive, studying Linden with his single eye. And only Anele ignored the tension in the room.

Linden sighed. She could not postpone her own explanations much longer.

“But you found it,” she said to hasten Liand. “As soon as you touched it, you were sure. It makes you feel like you’ve come to life. We can all see what it means to you.” His heritage glowed within him as though the blood in his veins had taken light. Now I need you to skip ahead.

“Tell me why the Masters didn’t stop you. From their point of view, it was a major concession when they let me keep my Staff and Covenant’s ring. And they remember orcrest . They remember everything. Why didn’t they take it away from you?”

Liand glanced at Stave. When we returned to the door of theurgy,” the Stonedownor told Linden, “Branl of the Humbled awaited us, barring our passage. He demanded of me that I must replace the orcrest in the Aumbrie.” Then the young man’s grave eyes met hers again. “Stave dissuaded him.”

Linden caught her breath. Staring at Stave, she asked softly. “Did you fight him’?”

The Haruchai shook his head. “There was no need. To some small extent, the indulgence which the Masters have granted to you, and to Anele also, wards the Stonedownor as well. But that alone-” Stave shrugged.

“However, an uncertainty has been sown in the hearts of the Masters. They have not forgotten your words when you argued for their aid. In addition, the ur-Lord Thomas Covenant urged the Voice of the Masters to persuade you from your purpose against the Demondim. Yet it is apparent even to the least tractable of my kinsmen that only your quenching of the Fall, and thus of the Illearth Stone, has enabled Revelstone to withstand the horde.

“Afterward”- again Stave shrugged- “the Unbeliever took you from among us in a manner which encouraged doubt. And when the Unbeliever and your son had removed you, the siege remained. The unremitting attacks of the Demondim demonstrated that the ur-Lord had not accomplished his purpose-or that his purpose was not as he had avowed.

“Therefore the Masters have become uncertain. They do not yet question their own service. But they inquire now if they have justly gauged your worth. For that reason, Branl was reluctant to strike down even the least esteemed of your companions.”

Between her teeth, but quietly, Pahni exclaimed, “He is not the least. He is the first of the Ringthane’s friends, and the foremost.”

Involuntarily Liand blushed; but Linden kept her attention on Stave. “Are you telling me,” she asked, “that Branl let him keep something as Earthpowerful as orcrest because the Masters are uncertain ?”

“No, Chosen,” replied Stave. “I have said only that Branl felt reluctance because the Masters have become uncertain. He did not reclaim the orcrest from Liand because I challenged him to the rhadhamaerl test of truth.”

Linden’s mien must have exposed her incomprehension. Without pausing, Stave explained, “In your sojourn with the ur-Lord, you knew only the Clave and the Sunbane. Your knowledge of the Land does not extend to the time of the Lords, when the stone-lore of the rhadhamaerl was the life and blood of every Stonedown, just as the lillianrill lore enriched and preserved every Woodhelven. You are unacquainted with the test of truth.

“It was performed with orcrest , or with lomillialor , to distinguish honesty from falsehood, fealty from Corruption. Such testing was known to be imperfect. At one time, Corruption himself accepted the challenge, and was not exposed. Among such lesser beings as the Ravers, however, or those who are mortal, the test of truth did not fail.

“I observed to Branl that Liand himself had met the test, though the lore of the rhadhamaerl has been lost for millennia. He held orcrest in his hand and suffered no hurt. And I proposed to endure the test as well, if Branl would do likewise.”

Liand nodded. In his face, Linden could see that Stave had surprised him then. He was not accustomed to thinking of any Haruchai as a friend.

“That challenge he refused,” Stave continued. “He did not doubt its outcome for himself. But such matters have too much import to be decided by a single Master when the Masters together have become uncertain. They have spurned me. In their sight, I have betrayed their chosen service. If I failed the test of truth, I would confirm their judgment. But if I did not, much would be altered. Therefore Branl permitted us to pass unopposed.

“Now Liand is suffered to hold the orcrest just as Anele is suffered to move freely, and your own actions have not been hindered. We are warded by the uncertainty of the Masters.”

Linden shook her head. “I’m sorry, Stave. I don’t understand. What would be altered?’

“Chosen,” Stave answered without impatience, “the Haruchai have not forgotten their ancient esteem for those dedicated to the rhadhamaerl and lillianrill lore. My kinsmen recall that the Bloodguard honoured the test of truth. If the orcrest did not reject me, the Masters would be compelled to consider that mayhap they had erred when I was made outcast. Thereafter other doubts would necessarily ensue. Then would their uncertainty burgeon rather than decline.

“The Masters in conclave might perchance have accepted the hazard. Branl alone could not. And the extremity of Revelstone’s defence precluded careful evaluation.”

“All right,” Linden said slowly. “Now I get it. I think.” She could never be certain that she grasped the full stringency of the Masters. But her own circumstances demanded all of her conviction. And she had already made her companions wait too long. “Thank you.”

She suspected that the doubts of the Masters would eventually make them more intransigent rather than less. And she did not know how to tell her friends that she had become as rigid and unyielding as Stave’s kindred.

Instead of standing to meet her own test, she allowed herself one last distraction. With as much gentleness as she could summon, she said. “Pahni.”