“Yet,” he went on, setting aside his concern for his brother, “Starfare's Gem has been grievously harmed. All seas are perilous to us now. And the loss of stores-”
He looked at Galewrath. Bluntly, she said, “If we eat and drink unrestrained, we will come to the end of our meat in five days. The watercests we will empty in eight. Mayhap the unspoiled grains and dried staples will endure for ten. Only diamondraught do we have in plenty.”
Honninscrave glanced at Linden. She nodded. Starfare's Gem was in dire need of supplies.
“Therefore,” the Master said, “our choice is this. To pursue our Search, trusting our lives to the strictness of our restraint and the mercy of the sea. Or to seek either landfall or port where we may hope for repairs and replenishment.” Reopening his chart, he held it over the edge of the table so that she could see it. “By the chance of the storm, we now approach the littoral of Bhrathairealm, where dwell the Bhrathair in their Sandhold against the Great Desert.” He indicated a spot on the chart; but she ignored it to watch his face, trying to read the decision he wanted from her. With a shrug, he tossed the parchment back onto the table. “In Bhrathairain Harbour,” he concluded, “we may meet our needs, and those of Starfare's Gem. Winds permitting, we may perhaps gain that Harbour in two days.”
Linden nodded again. As she looked around at the Giants, she saw that each of them wanted to take the latter course, turn the dromond toward Bhrathairain Harbour. But there were misgivings in their eyes. Perhaps the right of command which she had wrested from them outside Elemesnedene had eroded their confidence in themselves. Or perhaps the quest itself made them distrust their own desires for a safe anchorage. Covenant had certainly spoken often enough about the need for haste.
Or perhaps, Linden thought with a sudden inward flinch, it's me they don't trust.
At once, she compressed her mouth into its old lines of severity. She was determined not to cede one jot of the responsibility she had taken upon herself. She had come too far for that. Speaking in her flat professional voice, like a physician probing symptoms, she asked Pitchwife, “Is there any reason why you can't fix the ship at sea?”
The deformed Giant met her soberly, almost painfully. "Chosen, I am able to work my wiving wherever the seas permit. Grant that waves and winds are kind, and I lack naught else for the immediate need. The wreckage belowdecks will provide ample stone to mend the dromond's, side-yes, and also to seal the decks themselves. But the walls, and Foodfendhall-“ He jerked a shrug. ”To mend Starfare's Gem entirely, I must have access to a quarry. And only the shipwrights of Home can restore the mast which was lost. It may be possible,“ he concluded simply, ”for the Search to continue in the lack of such luxuries."
“Do the Bhrathair have a quarry?”
At that, humour glinted from Pitchwife's eyes. “In good sooth. The Bhrathair have little else but stone and sand. Therefore their Harbour has become a place of much trade and shipping, for they must have commerce to meet other needs.”
Linden turned to Galewrath. “If you make the rations as small as possible, can we get to the One Tree and back to the Land with what we have?”
The Storesmaster answered stolidly, “No.” She folded her brawny forearms over her chest as if her word were beyond refute.
But Linden continued, “You got supplies when you were off the coast of the Land. Couldn't we do the same thing? Without spending all the time to go to this Harbour?”
Galewrath glanced at the Master, then said in a less assertive tone, “It may be. At times land will lie nigh our course. But much of what is marked on these charts is obscure, explored neither by Giants nor by those who have told tales to Giants.”
Linden held Galewrath's doubt in abeyance. “Honninscrave.” She could not shake her impression that the Giants had qualms about Bhrathairealm. “Is there any reason why we shouldn't go to this Harbour?”
He reacted as if the question made him uncomfortable. “In times long past,” he said without meeting her gaze, “the Bhrathair have been friends to the Giants, welcoming our ships as occasion came. And we have given them no cause to alter toward us.” His face was gray with the memory of the Elohim, whom he had trusted. "But no Giant has sojourned to Bhrathairealm for three of our generations-ten and more of theirs. And the tales which have since come to us suggest that the Bhrathair are not what they were. They were ever a brusque and unhesitating people, for good or ill-made so by the long trial of their war for survival against the Sandgorgons of the Great Desert. The story told of them is that they have become gaudy."
Gaudy? Linden wondered. She did not know what Honninscrave meant. But she had caught the salient point: he was unsure of the welcome Starfare's Gem would receive in Bhrathairain Harbour. Severely, she faced the First.
“If Covenant and I weren't here-if you were on this quest without us-what would you do?”
The gaze the First returned held none of Honninscrave's vague apprehension. It was as straight and grim as a blade.
"Chosen, I have lost my broadsword. I am a Swordmain, and my glaive was accorded to me as a trust and symbol at the rites of my achievement. Its name is known to none but me, and to those who bestowed it upon me, and that name may never be revealed while I hold faith among the Swordmainnir. I have lost it by my own misjudgment. I am greatly shamed.
"Yet some weapon I must have. In this lack, I am less than a Swordmain-less than the First of the Search.
“For all implements of battle, the Bhrathair are of far renown.”
Her look did not waver. “In my own name I would not delay the Search. My place as the First I would give to another, and myself I would content with such service as lay within my grasp.” Pitchwife had covered his eyes with one hand, hurt by what he was hearing; but he did not interrupt. Now Linden understood the unwonted tenor of his reply to her earlier question: he knew what a decision to bypass Bhrathairain Harbour would mean to his wife. “But the need of Starfare's Gem is clear,” the First went on. “Given that need, and the proximity of Bhrathairealm, I would not scruple to sail there, for the dromond's hope as well as for my own. The choice between delay and death is easily made.”
She continued to hold Linden's gaze straightly; and at last Linden dropped her eyes. She was moved by the First's frank avowal, her stubborn integrity. All the Giants seemed to overtop Linden in more than mere physical stature. Abruptly, her insistence on making decisions in such company appeared insolent to her. Covenant had earned his place among the Giants-and among the Haruchai as well. But she had no right to it. She required the responsibility, the power to choose, for no other reason than to hold back her hunger for other kinds of power. Yet that exigency outweighed her unworth.
Striving to emulate Covenant, she said, “All right. I hear you.” With an effort of will, she raised her head, suppressing her conflicted heart so that she could meet the eyes of the Giants. “I think we're too vulnerable the way we are. We won't do the Land any good if we drown ourselves or starve to death. Let's take our chances with this Harbour.”
For a moment, Honninscrave and the others stared at her as if they had expected a different response. Then, softly, Pitchwife began to chuckle. A twitch of joy started at the corners of his mouth, quickly spread over his face. “Witness me, Giants,” he said. “Have I not avowed that she is well Chosen?”