“That’s where Wildwood beat them. The terrain makes a kind of bottleneck. He could concentrate his power there. And he could smell that Raver. He knew who was responsible for slaughtering his trees. On his own ground, with the full force of Garroting Deep behind him, nothing could stand against him. He stopped generations of kings dead in Cravenhaw-and I do mean dead. In effect, he forced them to turn toward Doom’s Retreat. If they’d kept on trying to force a passage through Cravenhaw, that damn Forestal would have left none of them alive.
“By the time they gave up, he’d developed a grudge you wouldn’t
believe.”
The Theomach nodded as if in confirmation.
With less acid in his voice, Covenant explained, “Berek’s King is-I mean was-the last of their line. I know some of the old legends say the Land was one big peaceful nation, and Berek’s King and Queen were happy, but it wasn’t like that. People tell themselves simple stories because they’re easier to live with than the truth. In fact, the Land was never a nation, and the southern kings never actually succeeded at overrunning it.
But it wasn’t for lack of trying. And Berek’s King was the most bloody-minded and stubborn of them all. His whole lineage was grasping and brutal, but he was something more. He didn’t just take samadhi Sheol’s advice. Indirectly that Raver ruled him. And when Berek’s Queen decided she didn’t like what her husband was doing, samadhi’s influence turned an ordinary struggle for new territory into an all-out civil war.
“Maybe you noticed the smell of death behind us? About a year and a half ago, one of the worst battles of the whole war was fought in that valley. The ground is so full of blood, even birds don’t go there.” With dark satisfaction, Covenant stated, “Under all that snow, we were walking across corpses.”
The idea made Linden wince inwardly; but she kept her reactions hidden. She could no longer estimate how far into the Land’s past she had been brought. Yet Covenant’s revelations changed nothing. A valley drenched in bloodshed changed nothing. He still had not told her anything that explained his intentions, or the Theomach’s-or her own plight. Holding his gaze, she waited for him to go on.
After a moment, he looked away. With renewed sarcasm, he remarked, “But you haven’t noticed what’s going on east of us.” He waved one hand negligently in that direction. “Or maybe you can’t see that far. I’m sure the all-wise and all-knowing Theomach can. In fact, I’m sure that’s why he brought us here.
“There’s smoke on the horizon. The smoke of battle. Good old Berek is fighting for his life. Has been for the past three days.
“Hell and blood!” he snapped suddenly. “I wish I didn’t have to do this. It’s so damn gratuitous.” Then, however, he made a visible effort to master his ire.
“When the Fire-Lions rescued Berek on Mount Thunder,” he said like a shrug, “they won a battle for him. A turning point. But they didn’t win the war. The king’s supporters took up the fight. And samadhi eggs them on from the safety of Doriendor Corishev, where Caerroil Wildwood can’t reach him, and he doesn’t have to worry about the Colossus. Berek still has a long way to go.
“Of course, it’s just a mopping-up operation. He has power now, power no one has ever seen before. Eventually he’ll win this battle. He’ll win the war. But he doesn’t know that. The people fighting and dying for him-or for the Queen-don’t know it. All they know is, they think they’ve found something they can believe in. Something they consider more precious than new territory and fresh resources and plain greed.
“Berek was alone on Mount Thunder. His army was scattered, effectively crippled. But they weren’t all dead. When the Fire-Lions answered him, it was a spectacle you could see for twenty or thirty leagues. Some of his survivors witnessed forces they couldn’t even imagine. And since then the rest have seen him do things-To them, he looks like he’s more than human. Better. They know about his vow, and they’re looking at this war through his eyes.
“That’s the real reason they’re going to win. Even with Berek’s power-which he doesn’t understand yet-they don’t have superior force. And they sure as hell don’t have superior numbers.” Again Covenant’s sarcasm mounted. “But they believe. They aren’t conscripts fighting because they’ll be cut down if they don’t. They’re fighting a damn holy war.”
Linden listened and said nothing. Moment by moment, she became increasingly certain that Covenant was no longer the man who had changed her life. He had lost some aspect of his humanity in the Arch of Time.
“It’ll all be wasted, of course,” he asserted trenchantly. “Just about two thousand years from now, poor doomed Kevin is going to join Foul in the Ritual of Desecration, and everything Berek and his true believers are fighting for will fall apart.
“After that, it’ll be a downhill battle all the way.”
Abruptly Covenant turned on the Theomach. “Which is why I’m so God damn pissed off at you! You and your fucking arrogance. We aren’t supposed to be here. We shouldn’t have to go through all this. She shouldn’t have to go through it.
“And I’m in a hurry. Never mind how hard I have to work just to keep us in one piece, or how long it’s going to take. I can handle that. Hellfire! I’m in a hurry because I’m trying to stop Foul before he finds a way to massacre everybody who has ever cared about the Land, or the Earth, or at least bare survival.”
Before the Theomach could reply, Linden intervened. She suspected that Covenant’s vehemence was a ploy, a diversion; and she had no intention of permitting it to distract her. He still had not come to the point of his explanation.
“Covenant,” she asked sharply. “when is this? How far back did you bring us’?”
Jeremiah gave her a quick, troubled glance, then looked away again. After studying his useless toy for a moment, he put it away in the waistband of his ruined pyjamas.
With a shrug, Covenant seemed to dismiss his anger. He sounded almost nonchalant as he said. “Ten thousand years. Give or take.”
Ten thousand-? Ten thou-?
Still Linden kept her face blank. And if the Theomach hadn’t interfered?” she persisted. “If we were where you wanted? When would that be?’
“Five hundred years after all this.” He indicated Berek’s struggle in the east. “Roughly. I haven’t actually counted. It isn’t worth the effort.”
She stared at him. Her voice rose in spite of her determination to contain herself. “So if we were doing this the way you wanted, we would still be nine and a half thousand years away from where we belong?”
“It isn’t just the time, Mom,” Jeremiah offered as though he wanted to placate her. “It’s the whole situation.”
Covenant nodded. “That’s right. Time is only part of the problem. We’re also not supposed to be here. We’re supposed to be over there.” He pointed past her thin glimpse of the forest. “On the other side of Garroting Deep. Ninety leagues or so, if we could fly.
“But of course we can’t,” he said acidly. “And we can’t go through the Deep. So we’ll have to go around. All the way around. Which is more like two hundred leagues. Up through the Westron Mountains. In the dead of winter. Without food or warm clothes or horses. And we can’t take any shortcuts because the bloody Theomach won’t let us. He’s afraid we might change history.”