Stephen Donaldson - Fatal Revenant

Impelled by fears and yearning, Linden guided the mare a short distance away from her companions. There, bending low over Hyn’s neck and whispering so that she would not be overheard, she asked the Ranyhyn to take her to Jeremiah.

She felt the mare’s muscles quiver in willingness or trepidation. Hyn shifted her hooves restively, tossed her head, then shook it from side it side. She stood where she was.

Trying to be clear, Linden took Jeremiah’s toy from her pocket and clenched it in her fist. Then she closed her eyes and visualised her son, not as she had known and loved him in their former life together, but as she had last seen him under Melenkurion Skyweir, with the croyel clinging savagely to his back; debased by the creature’s bitter theurgy. She formed his image in precise detail and offered it to Hyn, silently pleading with the Ranyhyn.

Still the mare did not move.

Then Mahrtiir came to Linden’s side, and to Hyn’s, drawn by his sensitivity to Linden, or by his instinctive rapport with the Ranyhyn. Murmuring, he gentled the mare until she no longer trembled.

“Do not misunderstand, Ringthane,” he urged Linden gruffly. “Hyn is valorous in all things. She would bear you into any of the Seven Hells, as she has into the horror of caesures . But she does not know where your son may be found. Mayhap she is able to discern the nature of his hiding place or prison, but she cannot determine its location. Therefore she shies from your desire.

“The son of the former Ringthane is present in this time. For that reason, I deem that your son is likewise present. As you have described them, the powers of both the halfhand and the croyel were required to elude the Law of Time. Therefore the halfhand’s evil assures us that your son has not been secreted in some other age. He does not lie beyond your reach. But Hyn cannot pierce his concealment.”

Linden sighed. “I didn’t really expect it to work.” If she could have found her son simply by asking the Ranyhyn to aid her, the Harrow would have no leverage with her-and Roger and Esmer would have no reason to fear that she might strike a bargain with the Insequent. “I just had to try.”

The Manethrall seemed to study her through his bandage. “Indeed, Ringthane. Who would comprehend, if I do not? Against the Cavewights, I did not expect to retain my life. Yet I could not decline to give battle. It is ever thus. Attempts must be made, even when there can be no hope. The alternative is despair. And betimes some wonder is wrought to redeem us. Expecting death, I have sacrificed only my sight.

“Therein lay Kevin Landwaster’s error-aye, and great Kelenbhrabanal ’s also. When all hope was gone, they heeded the counsels of despair. Had they continued to strive, defying their doom, some unforeseen wonder might have occurred. And if it did not, still their glory would have surpassed their failure.”

“I know,” Linden murmured: a dying fall of sound. “The world is full of Kastenessens and Rogers.” Esmers and Joans, croyel and Cavewights. “Lord Foul is everywhere. But there are still people like Liand.” And the Mahdoubt. “Stave is on our side. The ur-viles have changed. Even the Sandgorgons-” In spite of samadhi Raver’s shredded malignance, they had retained enough gratitude to answer her. “I’ll try anything to save Jeremiah.”

She meant her assertion as a warning, but she lacked the courage to speak more clearly. She was afraid that Mahrtiir-that all of her friends-would attempt to stop her.

As matters stood, she did not know the difference between the Manethrall’s advice and the counsels of despair.

To her relief, Liand did not take long to cleanse the senses of those Woodhelvennin who desired his gift. Although his efforts left his skin pale with weariness, and he wavered on Rhohm’s back, breathing raggedly, he was still able to ride. When he swayed too far, Pahni steadied him.

Now none of Linden’s companions urged caution. The time had come for haste. She needed it; and the villagers would be safer when she was far from them. Her friends delayed only to consider the pane of slate which had protected Anele.

Clyme asserted his willingness to carry it-or to make the attempt-regardless of his hurts and renewed bleeding. But Linden shook her head. “It’s too heavy,” she stated as though she had the authority to command the Humbled. “It’ll get in your way if were attacked again. We’ll try blankets. Five or six of them might be enough to block Kastenessen.”

For a moment, the Masters appeared to debate their responsibilities. Then Clyme abandoned the slate.

At a word from the Heers, grateful villagers hurried to gather blankets, which they tied into a roll and handed to Pahni.

With difficulty, Linden held back her impatience as Karnis and Quilla endeavoured to express their thanks for all that she and her companions had done. But the Heers were among those who had been blessed or afflicted with percipience: they could see how she felt. Seeming flustered by her frustration, they cut short what they wished to say.

On Linden’s behalf, and Liand’s, Manethrall Mahrtiir responded to the Heers; but he spoke curtly. “It is sooth that Liand of Mithil Stonedown has granted no gentle gift. Also it is sooth that neither kresh nor Cavewights would have assailed you in our absence. Our aid is small recompense for the harm which we have brought among you.

“The Master Vernigil will guide you. While it endures, your new sight will serve you well. May you fare in safety. Beyond question, you will fare more safely for our departure.”

At last, Linden and her companions turned away, leaving silence and uncertainty behind them. With Mahrtiir beside her, Pahni, Liand, and Anele following, and Stave in the rear, she rode after Bhapa and the Humbled at a brisk canter which Hyn and the other Ranyhyn soon stretched into a rolling gallop.

For a time, they traversed rough hills of flint and shale. But then stones and scant dirt gave way to better soil as more streams traced their crooked paths across the landscape; and the riders began to encounter occasional clusters of aliantha . Linden called a halt at the first of these so that Liand could restore his depleted strength.

When she dismounted to join him, she noticed the marks of other hooves. To her questioning glance, Pahni replied that the Humbled and Bhapa had paused here as well.

Privately Linden hoped that the Masters were not too proud to avail themselves of treasure-berries. They were in no condition to face another conflict. They needed as much sustenance as their stubbornness could accept.

“To this place,” Pahni added, studying the ground, “they rode together. Now, however, they have separated. Mhornym and Rohnhyn continue southeastward, but Bhanoryl’s path lies to the east, and Naybahn has turned to the south. Doubtless they will guard our passage at the farthest extent of their senses.”

Linden nodded. Remembering Cail and Brinn, Ceer and Hergrom, she trusted the Humbled to protect her company as well as they could.

When Liand had eaten a handful of aliantha , and had recovered enough to whisper something playful that made Pahni smile and duck her head, Linden and her friends remounted. Together the Ranyhyn resumed their run, devouring the distance at a long gallop.

Before noon, the hills faded into a wide plain like a steppe lambent with grasses and bright wildflowers. Birds scattered in waves before the rush of the riders, the muffled rumble of hooves. At intervals, Linden and her companions passed a small stand of wattle or scrub oak; splashed through a rambling stream or sprang over a sun-spangled rill; swept down into a shallow swale and flowed up the far side. But such features were few. Between them, the plain unfurled itself to the horizons as if the earth had opened its heart to the sun. There the Ranyhyn seemed to run effortlessly, buoyed by the grass and the vast sky as if they were born to revel in grasslands and illimitable vistas.