Stephen Donaldson - Fatal Revenant

Liand began to object hotly; but Mahrtiir’s voice rode over his. Clarion as a trumpet, the Manethrall announced. “I also propose a test of truth.”

Linden wheeled toward him as he proclaimed, “Permit the Ringthane to enter the courtyard beyond this dark stone. Enclosed by the outer gates, she will summon the Ranyhyn. Their approach will be witnessed by those Masters who watch from the tower.

“Heretofore the Ranyhyn that have answered her need are seven, Hynyn, Hyn, Narunal, Hrama, Rhohm, Whrany, and Naharahn. If she is answered now by more than those seven, you will acknowledge that the great horses approve both her desires and your caution. They have determined that she must depart-and that some among you must accompany her. If she is answered by no more than seven, you will recognise that the Ranyhyn do not share your fear of Desecration. You will honour their wisdom. And if she is not answered, we will accept your refusal.”

Shaken, Linden strove to compose herself. Like Stave’s, Mahrtiir’s challenge did not undermine her. The Ranyhyn would answer: she was sure of that. Still the Manethrall’s audacity staggered her. Surely in their entire history no Ramen had ever suggested making commitments on behalf of the great horses?

Yet Stave’s test was no less bold. He had been healed: the Humbled had not. But he had lost an eye. He was subtly crippled by the truncation of his sight.

Nevertheless Linden could not refuse either Stave’s aid or Mahrtiir’s. She needed to leave Revelstone-and had no clear idea how to do so.

Liand brimmed with protests; but Pahni drew him aside, whispering urgently. She appeared to be asking him to accept the Manethrall’s authority.

When Handir responded, Linden faced him again.

To Stave, the Voice of the Masters said. “It is Linden Avery who threatens Desecration. You do not. How will the success or failure of your strength measure the Land’s peril?’

“It will not,” Stave replied stolidly. “It will measure your worthiness to adjudge her as you have adjudged me.”

Linden groaned to herself. If Stave failed, he would validate the repudiation of his people.

“The Humbled have spoken,” Galt put in sharply. “We will accept the contest.”

“But I have not spoken,” Handir returned with a tinge of asperity. “By right of years and attainment, I am the Voice of the Masters. I must be heeded.”

“As the Humbled also must be heeded,” Galt reminded him.

For a long moment, the Humbled and Handir regarded each other. Then all four of them nodded; and the Voice of the Masters shifted his attention to Mahrtiir.

“Manethrall, we have heard you. Though your ire is unseemly, you are a Manethrall of the Ramen, and we hear you with respect. But we do not perceive how the will of the Ranyhyn pertains to the nature of our service.”

Keen as a raptor, Mahrtiir answered. “The Ranyhyn are inherent to the Land as the Haruchai and even the Ramen are not. The great horses partake of the Land’s essence and grandeur, for they are expressions of Earthpower, wholly and purely themselves, unflawed by either lore or aggrandisement. They stand high among the wonders which have caused you to choose the nature of your service. Also their foresight is both well known and inestimable.

“Inform me, then, how any Master may disdain the choices of the Ranyhyn and yet claim that he serves the Land.”

Although several of the other Masters emanated indignation, Handir did not appear offended. Instead he nodded as if to acknowledge that the Manethrall had made a valid point. Linden gnawed her lip while Handir remained silent, presumably communing with the Haruchai in the forehall.

For no apparent reason, Anele stated. “Anele does not fear horses. He does not fear the dark ones. He fears them .”

Then the Voice of the Masters spoke. “Linden Avery,” he said as if words uttered aloud had become awkward for him, “you have healed Stave. The Humbled remain hampered by injury.”

He may have been asking her to disavow Stave’s test of truth.

If so, he had misjudged her. Stave had sacrificed his bond with his own sons for her sake. In spite of her apprehension, she replied. “And he only has one eye. I call that even.”

In any case, the hurts of the Humbled were superficial. And Stave had blows to repay-

“Linden,” breathed Liand, warning her. You have it within you -

For a few heartbeats, Handir resumed his silence. Then he shifted his stance to address everyone around him.

“It is decided,” he said rigidly. “Both tests have merit. Neither suffices.

“However, we do not desire Linden Avery’s enmity. Nor do we intend any slight to the Ramen, or to the majesty of the Ranyhyn. And the Humbled must be heeded. Therefore both tests will be essayed in turn. If Stave withstands each of the Humbled, Linden Avery will then summon the Ranyhyn, as the Manethrall has urged. If Stave falls, no summons will be countenanced.”

After a brief pause, he continued, “It is in my heart, however, that such trials resolve naught.” Again his manner or his tone seemed to imply a veiled sorrow. “Conceding them, we accept only the hazard of greater uncertainty, for the strictures of our service will not be set aside. If Linden Avery’s release is won, we will be compelled to consider whether we have damned the Land. Yet if Stave or the Ranyhyn fail her, she will not thereby be persuaded to accept our Mastery. Rather the darkness within her will deepen. And Desecration may be wrought as readily in Revelstone as in Kiril Threndor. Thus will we again be compelled to consider whether we have damned the Land.

“I am Handir, by right of years and attainment the Voice of the Masters. I have spoken. But my words will bear no sweet fruit. Rather they will ripen to gall and rue.”

When he was finished, he and the other Masters immediately withdrew, leaving only Galt, Clyme, and Branl between Linden’s company and the clenched gates. Clearly Handir intended the tests to begin at once.

Hugging the Staff harder, Linden tried to breathe as if she were calm. She was not sure that she could bear to see Stave beaten again.

While Stave advanced to confront the Humbled, Mahrtiir and Liand stood with Linden. “Gall and rue are the inescapable outcome of your Mastery,” the Manethrall said to Handir. “Do not complain of them here, where those who seek to preserve the Land wish only to do so without opposition.”

Then he whispered privately to Linden. “I proposed a test of the Ranyhyn hoping to spare Stave. He has been harmed in both body and spirit, and I feared for him. It was not my intent to hamper you, Ringthane.”

“I know,” she murmured tensely. “I’m scared, too. If they hurt him again, I don’t know how I’m going to forgive myself. But I just don’t have any better ideas.”

“Ah, Stave,” sighed Liand. “Now I am truly shamed that I have thought and spoken ill of you.”

As one, Stave and the Humbled bowed to each other with ritual formality. Then Branl and Clyme retreated to clear a space for Galt and Stave.

Involuntarily Linden remembered another battle in this place. When Nom had broken the inner gates, she and Covenant had entered the forehall with Sunder and Hollian, a few Giants, and a small company of Haruchai . Here they had fought desperately against the Clave, Coursers, and the na-Mhoram’s Grim . Old frenzy, terror, and bloodshed seemed to harry her now, as bleak as Handir’s omens.

So suddenly that she nearly gasped, Galt struck. Blood still crusted his hands and feet. Nonetheless he launched a blow swift and hard enough to crush the blinded side of Stave’s face.

Stave had said that he did not wish to cause harm. Plainly Galt’s intentions were more extreme. He seemed to want to eradicate Stave from his sight.