He had no strength left, made no effort to grip the raft, did not even try to hold up his head. She could not hear his respiration over the lapping of the water, and his pulse seemed to have withdrawn to a place beyond her reach. His face looked ghastly in the pale moonlight. All her senses groaned to her that he suffered from a venom of the soul.
His condition galled her. She clung to him, searching among her ignorances and incapacities for some way to succour him. A voice in her insisted that if she could feel his distress so acutely she ought to be able to affect it somehow, that surely the current of perception which linked her to him could run both ways. But she shied away from the implications. She had no power, had nothing with which to oppose his illness except the private blood of her own life. Her fear of so much vulnerability foiled her, left her cursing because she lacked even the limited resources of her medical bag-lacked anything which could have spared her this intimate responsibility for his survival.
For a time, her companions rode the River in silence. But at last Hollian spoke. Linden was dimly cognizant of the young woman's plight. The en-Brand had been surrendered to death by her own village, and had been impossibly rescued-Eventually, all the things she did not understand overcame her reluctance. She breathed clenched apprehension into the darkness. “Speak to me. I do not know you.”
“Your pardon.” Sunder's tone expressed weariness and useless regret. “We have neglected courtesy. I am Sunder son of Nassic, at one time — ” he became momentarily bitter — “Graveller of Mithil Stonedown, fourscore leagues to the south. With me are Linden Avery the Chosen and ur-Lord Thomas Covenant, Unbeliever and white gold wielder. They are strangers to the Land.”
Strangers, Linden murmured. She saw herself as an unnatural visitant. The thought had sharp edges on all sides.
The eh-Brand answered like a girl remembering her manners with difficulty. “I am Hollian Amith-daughter, eh-Brand of Crystal Stonedown. I am-” She faltered, then said in a sore voice, “I know not whether to give you thanks for redeeming my life-or curses for damning my home. The na-Mhoram's Grim will blacken Crystal Stonedown forever.”
Sunder spoke roughly. “Perhaps not.”
“How not?” she demanded in her grief. “Surely Sivit na-Mhoram-wist will not forbear. He will ride forthwith to Revelstone, and the Grim will be spoken. Nothing can prevent it.”
“He will not ride to Revelstone. I have slain his Courser.” Half to himself, Sunder muttered, “The Rede did not reveal to me that a Sunstone may wield such might.”
Hollian gave a low cry of relief. “And the rukh with which he moulds the Sunbane is destroyed. Thus he cannot call down ill upon my people.” A recovery of hope silenced her. She relaxed in the water as if it were a balm for her fears.
Covenant's need was loud in Linden's ears. She tried to deafen herself to it. “The Rider's sceptre — his rukh? Where did he get the blood to use it? I didn't see nun cut himself.”
“The Riders of the Clave,” Sunder responded dourly, “are not required to shed themselves. They are fortified by the young men and women of the Land. Each rukh is hollow, and contains the blood with which the Sunbane is wielded.”
Echoes of the outrage which had determined her to rescue Hollian awoke in Linden. She welcomed them, explored them, hunting for courage. The rites of the Sunbane were barbaric enough as Sunder practiced them. To be able to achieve such power without personal cost seemed to her execrable. She did not know how to reconcile her ire with what she had heard of the Clave's purpose, its reputation for resistance to the Sunbane. But she was deeply suspicious of that reputation. She had begun to share Covenant's desire to reach Revelstone.
But Covenant was dying.
Everything returned to Covenant and death.
After a while, Hollian spoke again. A different fear prompted her to ask, “Is it wild magic? Wild magic in sooth?”
“Yes,” the Graveller said.
“Then why-?” Linden could feel Hollian's disconcertion. “How did it transpire that Mithil Stonedown did not slay him, as the Rede commands?”
“I did not permit it,” replied Sunder flatly. “In his name, I turned from my people, so that he would not be shed,”
“You are a Graveller,” Hollian whispered in her surprise. “A Stonedownor like myself. Such a deed-surely it was difficult for you. How were you brought to commit such transgression?”
“Daughter of Amith,” Sunder answered like a formal confession, "I was brought to it by the truth of the Rede. The words of the ur-Lord were words of beauty rather than evil. He spoke as one who owns both will and power to give his words substance. And in my heart the truth of the Rede was unbearable.
“Also,” he went on grimly, “I have been made to learn that the Rede itself contains falsehood.”
“Falsehood?” protested Hollian. “No. The Rede is the life of the Land. Were it false, all who rely upon it would die.”
Sunder considered for a moment, then said, “Eh-Brand, do you know the aliantha?”
She nodded. “It is most deadly poison.”
“No.” His certitude touched Linden. In spite of all that had happened, he possessed an inner resilience she could not match. “It is good beyond any other fruit. I speak from knowledge. For three suns, we have eaten aliantha at every chance.”
“Surely”- Hollian groped for arguments — “it is the cause of the ur-Lord's sickness?”
“No. This sickness has come upon him previously, and the aliantha gave him healing.”
At this, she paused, trying to absorb what she had heard. Her head turned from side to side, searching the night for guidance. When she spoke again, her voice came faintly over the wet sounds of the River. "You have redeemed my life. I will not doubt you. I am homeless and without purpose, for I cannot return to Crystal Stonedown, and the world is perilous, and I do not comprehend my fate. I must not doubt you.
“Yet I would ask you of your goal. All is dark to me. You have incurred the wrath of the Clave for me. You journey great distances under the Sunbane. Will you give me reason?”
Sunder said deliberately, “Linden Avery?” passing the question to her. She understood; he was discomfited by the answer, and Hollian was not likely to take it calmly. Linden wanted to reject the difficulty, force Sunder and Hollian to fend for themselves. But, because her own weakness was intolerable to her, she responded squarely, “We're going to Revelstone.”
Hollian reacted in horror. “Revelstone? You betray me!” At once, she thrust away from the raft, flailing for an escape.
Sunder lunged after her. He tried to shout something, but his damaged chest changed it to a gasp of pain.
Linden ignored him. His lunge had rolled the raft, dropping Covenant into the water.
She grappled for Covenant, brought him back to the surface. His respiration was so shallow that he did not even cough at the water which streamed from his mouth. In spite of his weight, he conveyed a conviction of utter frailty.
Sunder fought to prevent Hollian's flight; but he was hampered by his hurt ribs. “Are you mad?” he panted at her. “If we sought your harm, Sivit's intent would have sufficed!”
Struggling to support Covenant, Linden snapped, “Let her go!”
“Let-?” the Graveller protested.
“Yes!” Ferocity burned through her. “I need help. By God, if she wants to leave, that's her right!”
“Heaven and Earth!” retorted Sunder. “Then why have we imperilled our lives for her?”
“Because she was going to be killed! I don't care if we need her or not. We don't have the right to hold her against her will. I need help.”