away in a flurry of strikes and counters.
The two remaining Haruchai also charged at Linden. One stumbled under an onslaught of Ramen. Aided by the Stonedownor, the three Ramen kept that Haruchai from his target. And his kinsman was impeded by Ranyhyn. A roan stallion kicked the man in the chest; sent him sprawling backward.
“Yes!” Kevin Landwaster shouted. “ Slay her! She merits death!”
But Berek Halfhand’s great voice answered, “ Hold! Restrain yourselves, Haruchai! Matters beyond your comprehension lie between the Timewarden and the Chosen. You have no part in them!”
“This night is sacred,” added Damelon Giantfriend more quietly. “Your strife is unseemly. Beings mightier than you would not contend here.”
Elena may have been weeping. Caer-Caveral stood apart from her, distancing himself from her distress.
Perhaps out of respect for the Lords, or perhaps for some reason of their own, the Haruchai ceased their struggles.
Covenant made no sense of it. He could more easily have explained why the Wraiths had not intervened. The Haruchai were simply too human and necessary to invoke the forces which defended Andelain. Still he said nothing. There was no room in his crippled apprehension for anything or anyone except Linden.
She was moving as well, as if she had been released by the quick violence of the Haruchai . Every line of her form was agony and protest as she strode toward him. Flagrant with pain, she seemed to rear over him as she raised her arm. When she struck him, he was too confused to duck his head or defend himself.
“God damn you!” she cried: a tortured wail. “Why didn’t you say something? You could have told me—!”
Covenant gaped in wonder at the forgotten sensation of physical hurt as Linden fell to her knees in front of him. She covered her face with her hands; but she could not stop the sobs bursting from the bottom of her heart. Nearly shouting, she wept as if she were being torn out of herself by the roots.
He recognized her torment. But it was the rich sting of her blow that brought him into focus at last. For the first time since his death in agony, and his transfiguration, he tasted the crisp balm of Andelain’s air, cooled and accentuated by the darkness that enclosed the Hills. It should have eased him, but it did not.
“Oh, Linden,” he gasped softly. Fearing that she would repudiate his touch, he tried to put his arms around her nonetheless. His movements were awkward with disuse; weak; almost numb. Yet he clasped her to his chest. “I shouldn’t have said anything at all. In your dreams. Through Anele. The risk was too great. But I was afraid you might lose hope. I couldn’t—” He swallowed implications of ruin. “Couldn’t just abandon you.
“You haven’t done anything wrong. This is my fault. I was too weak.”
He meant, I was too human. Even living in the Arch. I couldn’t watch you suffer and let you think you were alone.
I would spare you the cost of what you’ve done if I knew how.
“Anything wrong ?” snapped Infelice. “You rave, Timewarden. Your transformation is an immitigable evil. It has undone you. Do you not see that she has wrought the destruction of the Earth?”
Anger and Earthpower glittered around the Elohim as if she wore garments of disillusioned gems. Even in her wrath, she should have been lovely to behold. But everything that Thomas Covenant still possessed was concentrated on Linden: her sob-wracked body in his arms; her hair against the side of his face. Immersed in her distress, he ignored Infelice.
Loric Vilesilencer did not. “Be still, Elohim ,” he growled. “The fault of this—if it is fault—is yours as much as his or hers. You fear only for yourselves. You care nothing for the Earth. Yet there is much here that surpasses your self-regard.”
“No!” protested Kevin urgently. “The Elohim speaks sooth. Have I suffered damnation and learned naught? She has performed a Desecration which exceeds
Guillermo Orsi, Nick Caistor