Stephen Donaldson - Fatal Revenant

“I want you to pack three horses with as much food as they can carry. I’ll ride one and lead the others. We’ll send the mounts that Covenant and Jeremiah have now back to you. Then I want you to leave. Tell Lord Berek that I sent you away because you’ve already done more for us than we had any right to ask.”

Yellinin set her jaw in spite of her tangible wish to comply. “My lord Berek’s command was plain.”

“I know.” Linden sighed a gust of steam. The dying embers of the campfire no longer warmed her. She closed her robe to hold in as much heat as she could. In the cold, her face felt stiff with renunciation. “And he expects to be obeyed. But something else about him is plain as well. If he could think of a way to win his war without sacrificing any more lives, he would do it in a heartbeat. He doesn’t want you to die, Yellinin.”

Earnestly Linden said. “Once I use my Staff, you should be able to do what Krenwill does. You’ll hear truth. Then you won’t have to worry about what Covenant and Jeremiah and I have in mind. You’ll believe me when I say that they don’t want to turn back-and I wouldn’t allow it if they did.”

Yellinin made a visible effort to stifle her yearning. “Then I will accept the hazard of your fire, my lady. For the sake of the horses, if for no other cause, I cannot refuse.

“But I will not consent to part from you,” she added dourly. “I have not experienced Krenwill’s discernment. I cannot be certain of its worth.”

Linden studied Yellinin for a moment longer, measuring the quality of the outrider’s torn desires. When she felt sure that her companions had ridden far enough to protect themselves, she closed her eyes and caused gentle Earthpower to bloom like cornflowers and forsythia from the apt wood of the Staff.

Enclosed in fire, Yellinin could not conceal her amazement at the fundamental healing and sustenance of Law. Her first taste of percipience as she watched her horses gain new vitality filled her with shock and wonder. Her own abused flesh was soothed in ways which she had never experienced before. Now she could understand the true nature of the forces which had transformed Berek Halfhand. And her heart belonged to him, in spite of her gratitude for Linden’s gift. When the flames subsided, and Yellinin heard the truth of Linden’s assurances, her resistance slowly faded.

Glowing with gladness, she gave Linden her consent; her eager cooperation. As soon as she had rearranged the burdens of the beasts as Linden had requested, she tapped the breastplate of her cuirass in salute. Then she stood at attention while Linden mounted and gathered up the reins of the other horses.

Linden believed that she was doing the right thing; that she could not have justified any other choice. Nevertheless the outrider’s attitude exacerbated her own sense of isolation. She seemed to be leaving behind her last ally as she rode away alone.

On a completely irrational level, she wished that Berek had come with her. She needed someone of his stature to help her face the conundrum of Covenant and Jeremiah.

The renewed vigour of her mounts allowed Linden to pursue her companions at a canter. She caught up with them within half a league.

Apparently Jeremiah had been watching for her. As she approached, he turned almost immediately to Covenant; and at once, they reined in to wait for her.

Neither of them spoke to her. They seemed to know without explanation what she had done. When she had joined them, Jeremiah said diffidently to Covenant, We should change horses right away. If we keep Yellinin waiting, she might change her mind. And well be able to travel faster — he glanced at the mounts with Linden- “at least for a while.”

“Sure.” Covenant sounded almost amiable, as if the outrider’s absence eased his frustration. “Let’s do it.”

Together, he and Jeremiah dismounted, turned their horses back the way they had come, and slapped them into motion. The beasts trotted off promptly, relieved to escape their riders. Their energy would not last: that was obvious. But Linden had confidence that Yellinin would care for them. Berek’s army could not afford to lose mounts unnecessarily.

Jeremiah reached the saddle of his fresh horse without much difficulty, although the beast’s sides quivered fretfully at his touch. But Covenant’s mount shied away whenever he tried to step up into the stirrup. Swearing almost cheerfully, he manoeuvred the horse against Jeremiah’s so that it could not evade him. Then he swung himself into the seat with a fierce grin.

The instinctive repugnance of the beasts for Covenant and Jeremiah disturbed Linden. And releasing Yellinin did not make her feel any less helpless. She still could not imagine how any of them would survive to reach Melenkurion Skyweir.

For the time being, however, she kept her many questions to herself. The relentless cold numbed her thoughts; sapped her will. It was rife with implications of failure. And she did not know what had caused the change in Covenant’s manner. Yellinin’s absence seemed to free him from some unexplained constraint.

As Linden and her companions resumed their plod northwestward through the raw and glistening winter along the margin of the Last Hills, Jeremiah rode on her right, between her and Covenant. Since their departure from Berek’s camp, his wound had healed completely: she could see the twitch at the corner of his eye signalling. However, its indecipherable message had lost some of its urgency. Like Covenant’s, Jeremiah’s spirits had lifted.

After a while, he asked Covenant. “How much longer do you think we’ll have to do this?” His tone suggested that he already knew the answer; that he had posed the question for Linden’s sake.

“Today,” Covenant answered casually. “Maybe tomorrow.” He did not glance at Linden. “After that we should be safe enough.”

“Safe’?” Linden inquired. The idea that any form of safety might be possible in this winter seemed inconceivable.

“From the Theomach,” explained Jeremiah. He sounded cheerful. “So far, we’re doing things his way. We aren’t attracting any attention. We haven’t violated what people know about this time. But we’re travelling too slowly. We need to go faster. That’s why we had to get away from Yellinin. So she won’t see us use power.

“The Theomach still won’t like it. If he senses it, he’ll think he has to interfere again.” Jeremiah rolled his eyes in mockery. “So we’ll wait until we’re farther away. We’ll give him a chance to get caught up in Berek’s war. Then we won’t have to worry about him anymore.”

A reflexive tug of hope surprised Linden. She craved anything which might alleviate the impossibility of their trek.

Covenant had warned her that the dangers were real. If Jeremiah and I risk using power now, we’ll be noticed. We could run into opposition. But the cold persuaded her that attempting to pass through the Westron Mountains would be worse.

“How are you going to do it?’ she asked carefully. “Covenant said that your magic isn’t safe here.”

The kind of opposition that might damage the Arch.

The Theomach had mentioned puissant beings.

“It’s better if we talk about this later,” Covenant replied. “Tonight, if you can’t wait any longer.” He did not so much as glance at Linden. “Every league takes us a little closer to the Theomach’s limits. And Berek is going to want more from him by the hour. More help. More knowledge. Berek is starving to understand what he can do. He’s desperate for it. The more he gets from the Theomach, the more he’s going to want.

“We probably wouldn’t be overheard where we are,” Covenant admitted. “But I don’t want to take the chance.”