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.”
Where we are, Linden thought with a forlorn ache. Apart from Yellinin, she had not seen an ordinary human being for more than three days of abrading cold. On her right, the Centre Plains were a bitter wasteland, snow-cloaked and featureless as far as she could see: a tangible avatar of the gelid loneliness within a caesure, the ruin which represented the ultimate outcome of Joan’s madness. And on her left, the Last Hills raised their heads in forbidding scarps and crags. Some of their lower slopes were mild; others, more rugged. But boulders and bare granite knotted their crests. And all of them were clotted with ice or caked with brittle snow.
She could not wait for the interminable shivering length of another day to pass. She felt too much alone.
When she and her companions had ridden in silence for a time, she said tentatively, “All right. You can stop me if I ask anything dangerous. But this isn’t hard only on you. It’s tough for me, too. You at least have a plan.” Something to look forward to. “I’m just lost.”
She did not want to freeze to death in the middle of nowhere for no reason which she could comprehend.
“If nothing else,” she pleaded. “I need you to talk to me. I need to hear voices.”
Her longing for the companionship of Liand, Stave, the Ramen, and even Anele was so poignant that it closed her throat.
Jeremiah seemed to consult with Covenant, although she heard nothing pass between them. Then he glanced at her sidelong. “That’s OK, Mom,” he replied uncomfortably. “You can ask. Just try to be careful. If the Theomach hears us, a question might cause just as much trouble as an answer.”
His willingness surprised Linden; but she did not want to miss her chance. Striving for caution, she said. “So why does the Theomach care what we do now? Didn’t he get what he wanted?” Obliquely, inadvertently, she had helped him win a place at Berek’s side. “Unless I missed something-”
He claimed that she knew his true name; but she had no idea what it was.