Against All Things Ending Part 63

"Now, however-" Branl paused as if he were speaking mind to mind with Clyme. "They have strayed far from their accustomed marshlands. And their approach is unerring. It cannot be doubted that they have come to seek you out.

"Also there is this to consider. In each hand, they bear a green flame which does not bend to the dictates of the wind. This theurgy appears to enable their departure from their native waters." Branl's tone became sharper. "It's the precise emerald of the Illearth Stone, and of the skest skest.

"You will recall that the skest skest once served the lurker of the Sarangrave. Now they have become the minions of Corruption. These creatures may be once served the lurker of the Sarangrave. Now they have become the minions of Corruption. These creatures may be skest skest in some new guise, perhaps altered by the baleful seepages of Gravin Threndor. Whatever their origins, however, the nature of their magicks cannot be mistaken. It is green and malefic, binding their hearts to cruel hungers. in some new guise, perhaps altered by the baleful seepages of Gravin Threndor. Whatever their origins, however, the nature of their magicks cannot be mistaken. It is green and malefic, binding their hearts to cruel hungers.

"Their purpose cannot be other than harm. Therefore we must be prepared to give battle, and to flee."

Covenant peered up at the Humbled. He wanted to ask how Branl proposed to save his sleeping mount. And he wanted to remind Branl of the sur-jheherrin sur-jheherrin, creatures that had once saved him and his companions-including several Haruchai Haruchai-from the lurker. The sur-jheherrin sur-jheherrin were descended from the were descended from the jheherrin jheherrin, the Soft Ones, who had rescued Covenant and Saltheart Foamfollower during their approach to the Shattered Hills and Foul's Creche. Not everything bred in the Sarangrave was evil.

But instead he posed a different question. "Has Clyme tried talking to them?"

The Haruchai Haruchai lacked the Giants' gift of tongues. But the lacked the Giants' gift of tongues. But the jheherrin jheherrin had been capable of human speech. had been capable of human speech.

Branl raised an eyebrow: for him, a dramatic show of surprise. "He has not."

"Maybe he should do that. Before we get into a fight we don't want."

The Humbled c.o.c.ked his head in what Covenant a.s.sumed was Clyme's direction. After a moment, Branl replied, "Clyme will make the attempt. To his senses, the creatures do not appear to unite their theurgies. Each wields only its own might. He deems it unlikely that they are able to overwhelm or slay him."

Covenant resisted an impulse to hold his breath. How long would this take? He had no idea how far the creatures were from Clyme's position. Would Covenant and Branl still have time to escape the cave? With the charger?

The moments seemed to stretch, mocked by the quickness of the stream. In the absence of the Ranyhyn, Covenant felt colder; more vulnerable. Branl waited, motionless. He did not react to whatever he heard from Clyme.

Abruptly the Master spoke. "The creatures name themselves the Feroce. At the behest of their High G.o.d, they crave an audience with the Pure One."

Covenant winced. The Feroce? He had lost any memory of them. But "the Pure One"- Ah, Foamfollower! h.e.l.lfire. He remembered too much about the Pure One.

Without thinking, he told Branl, "They have the wrong man." Then he caught himself. "No, don't say that." In the legends of the jheherrin jheherrin, the Pure One had been their promised savior. If the Feroce believed that Covenant rather than Saltheart Foamfollower had rescued the jheherrin jheherrin from the Maker, the Despiser, they were mistaken. But that error might help him avoid a conflict. "Don't give them an excuse to stop talking. from the Maker, the Despiser, they were mistaken. But that error might help him avoid a conflict. "Don't give them an excuse to stop talking.

"Ask them why they want an audience. What do they want to talk about?"

Branl gave no sign that he was relaying Covenant's desires to Clyme, but Covenant did not doubt him. He was Haruchai Haruchai.

A few heartbeats later, the Humbled announced, "The Feroce avow that they intend no subterfuge. They acknowledge their enmity. They acknowledge that they have attempted harm. They acknowledge that their first purpose has failed. In pain and desperation, their High G.o.d now seeks alliance with the Pure One."

Covenant's mind whirled as though he stood on a precipice. Attempted harm? What What harm? If the Feroce had attacked Linden-! Anger and possibilities spun swiftly; too swiftly. The creatures had invoked harm? If the Feroce had attacked Linden-! Anger and possibilities spun swiftly; too swiftly. The creatures had invoked jheherrin jheherrin legends. Long millennia ago, the legends. Long millennia ago, the jheherrin jheherrin had misjudged Covenant. But if the Feroce knew those legends, they might be descendants of the had misjudged Covenant. But if the Feroce knew those legends, they might be descendants of the sur-jheherrin sur-jheherrin: they might believe what the jheherrin jheherrin had believed. had believed.

Attempted harm harm?

Apparently they were being honest.

Then who in h.e.l.l was their "High G.o.d"? The lurker lurker? If they lived in the Sarangrave- An alliance with the lurker was impossible. The idea was insane. But he had no difficulty imagining potential benefits.

He was running too far ahead of himself. Grimly he muttered, "I don't know what's going on here. But I'm going to guess.

"If the Feroce want to talk, tell them to come here. Just three of them. The rest have to keep a safe distance. Clyme can decide what that means. And tell them I have High Lord Loric's krill krill. A long time ago, I hurt the lurker with it. I won't hesitate to use it again if I think I'm being threatened."

If the creatures had not come in good faith.

Studying Covenant, Branl hesitated. "Ur-Lord, is this wise? Our covert has no other egress. If the Feroce do not endeavor to slay us, they may nonetheless impose an effective imprisonment. Snared here, you will be prevented from seeking your former mate."

"I know that," Covenant sighed. "Of course you're right. But I can't forget the sur-jheherrin sur-jheherrin ." Or the ." Or the jheherrin jheherrin. "Life in the Sarangrave isn't as simple as it looks. If the Feroce want to talk to the Pure One, I can't ignore them." Without the jheherrin jheherrin, he would have died among the Shattered Hills. "Just tell Clyme what I said. If they try to send more than three-if they do anything he doesn't like-he can warn you."

Frowning slightly, Branl nodded. Then he moved to stand guard against the far wall beside the entrance to the chamber.

The destrier went on sleeping. It seemed too profoundly weary to hear anything; or to care.

A dozen heartbeats later, the Humbled reported, "The Feroce comply. Three of them approach. Their manner is fearful. The others withdraw according to Clyme's instructions." Then he added, "The Ranyhyn stand ready in the night above our covert. Doubtless they will come to our aid at need."

"Good," Covenant breathed. If creatures wielding fires that resembled the bale of the Illearth Stone meant to a.s.sail him, he doubted that Mh.o.r.n.ym and Naybahn would be able to provide an effective defense. Still their alert proximity rea.s.sured him.

He tried to compose himself while remembrances clamored for his attention. The jheherrin jheherrin had called themselves had called themselves the soft ones the soft ones. Maker-work Maker-work, the occasional failures of the Despiser's efforts to breed armies; suffered to live only because Lord Foul enjoyed their abjection. Their flesh had resembled mud: they seemed to have been molded from clay. But they had shapes-Child-forms. Serpents. Grotesque mimicries of Cavewights. Others. And they had legends, tales of the Un-Maker-made: the stock from which Lord Foul had created monsters and jheherrin jheherrin.

According to the tales, those ancestors were also Makers. Unlike the Despiser, however, they were not seedless. From their bodies came forth young who grew and in turn made young From their bodies came forth young who grew and in turn made young. And some of them survived or escaped or avoided Lord Foul's violation. They endured beyond his influence, still free of the Maker still free of the Maker. Still capable of children.

Those memories were bitter to Covenant. He had been so tormented and sick-To him, and to Foamfollower, the jheherrin jheherrin had described their legends. had described their legends. It is said that when the time is ready, a young will be birthed without flaw-a pure offspring impervious to the Maker and his making-unafraid It is said that when the time is ready, a young will be birthed without flaw-a pure offspring impervious to the Maker and his making-unafraid. It is said that this pure one will come bearing tokens of power to the Maker's home It is said that this pure one will come bearing tokens of power to the Maker's home. He wanted to forget, and could not. It is said that he will redeem the It is said that he will redeem the jheherrin jheherrin if they prove-if he finds them worthy-that he will win from the Maker their release from fear and mud if they prove-if he finds them worthy-that he will win from the Maker their release from fear and mud-But he had done nothing to redeem the jheherrin jheherrin: nothing except bear the burden of his ring. He was a leper. He would always be a leper. Birthed without flaw? There was nothing pure about him.

No, it was Saltheart Foamfollower who had provided for the Maker's defeat. Cleansed in the savage caamora caamora of Hotash Slay, he had laughed in Lord Foul's face and died, giving Covenant the strength to destroy the Illearth Stone. He rather than Covenant had become the Pure One. of Hotash Slay, he had laughed in Lord Foul's face and died, giving Covenant the strength to destroy the Illearth Stone. He rather than Covenant had become the Pure One.

That the sur-jheherrin sur-jheherrin thousands of years later still considered Covenant to be their Pure One only exacerbated his grief for Foamfollower-and his sense of his own unworth. thousands of years later still considered Covenant to be their Pure One only exacerbated his grief for Foamfollower-and his sense of his own unworth.

Yet here he sat like a monarch in exile, awaiting creatures who wanted an audience with the Pure One. For the Land's sake, and for Linden's-even for Joan's-he was willing to consider any alliance that the Feroce might mistakenly offer him.

Deliberately he s.h.i.+fted so that he sat cross-legged with the krill krill directly between him and the cave's entrance. For a few moments, he ma.s.saged the sore muscles of his lower back. Then he forced himself to sit straight as a sovereign. Let the Feroce be fearful. Let them approach humbly. Trapped in this chamber, he needed every possible advantage of posture or certainty. directly between him and the cave's entrance. For a few moments, he ma.s.saged the sore muscles of his lower back. Then he forced himself to sit straight as a sovereign. Let the Feroce be fearful. Let them approach humbly. Trapped in this chamber, he needed every possible advantage of posture or certainty.

He needed to conceal that he feared touching Loric's dagger.

"Ur-Lord," Branl warned quietly. "Three Feroce have gained the outer ledge. Soon they will enter here."

Covenant took a deep breath; held it. The krill krill cast a slash of brilliance through the break that gave admittance to the chamber. Silver light shone like a kind of purity on the far wall of the outer fissure. He fixed his gaze there, counting the thud-beats of his heart; watching for hints of emerald malevolence. cast a slash of brilliance through the break that gave admittance to the chamber. Silver light shone like a kind of purity on the far wall of the outer fissure. He fixed his gaze there, counting the thud-beats of his heart; watching for hints of emerald malevolence.

It came first as a slight taint at the edge of the argent, a tinge that might have seemed vernal from some other source. Then the sick green of acid and hunger grew stronger. That hue did not outs.h.i.+ne the krill krill. Perhaps it could not. Nonetheless it stained the silver until the darkness beyond it seemed rife with menace.

One at a time, three creatures breached the light and stepped into the chamber.

They were as Branl had described them: no taller than his shoulders, hairless and naked, with large eyes like pools of reflected silver and emerald. Each of them flinched at its first sight of the krill krill: each s.h.i.+ed as far as it could from the gem's blaze without touching Branl. When they looked past the light at Covenant, they conveyed the impression that they were cowering.

In the cups of their hands, they carried flames like promises of disease. Despite their alarm, they had an air of malice suppressed or denied. Perhaps they would have flung themselves at Covenant, if they had dared to do so. Instinctively he believed that they had been sp.a.w.ned by Mount Thunder's ancient poisons.

They avoided the krill krill with their eyes and remained silent. They may have been waiting for Covenant to speak. with their eyes and remained silent. They may have been waiting for Covenant to speak.

Scowling as though he had the right to sit in judgment, he said nothing.

Finally one of them of them raised its voice. "We are the Feroce." But he could not tell which one spoke: the words seemed to come from all or none of them. And the voice had a peculiar sound, damp and undefined, like wet mud being forced past an obstruction. Their mouths and throats may not have been formed for language. Their speech may have been an effect of theurgy rather than of physical utterance.

Masking his own anxiety with feigned hauteur, Covenant replied, "I've heard you. You want an audience. You want an alliance for your High G.o.d. We'll get to that. Tell me something first. Convince me to trust you.

"You say you've attempted harm. That was your first purpose. What did you do?"

With their flames, the three Feroce made timid gestures like attempts at placation. "Our High G.o.d sustains us," they responded in their single voice. "In his agony, he speaks to us. He speaks through us. We obey his commands. Without him, we are dust. We cannot part from the waters of the Sarangrave.

"Havoc draws ever closer." More and more, they appeared to cower. "The havoc of all life. You are aware of this. You cannot be unaware. Our High G.o.d has felt it.

"He desires life. He desires power power. He must have might, and greater might, and still greater might, lest he perish. All other enmity must be set aside.

"A female of your kind wields a stick of immense potency. Of this you are also aware. You cannot be unaware. Our High G.o.d yearned for it. At his command, we strove to lure it from her. We failed. He was wounded. He cannot obtain life by that means."

Covenant swore behind his scowl. Linden-! Fiercely he demanded, "Did you hurt her? Did you hurt her? Did you hurt her?"

The Feroce flinched like threatened children. Emerald flames guttered and spat in their hands. "We made the attempt. We failed. Now we are here."

"What, you you?" he countered to conceal his relief. We failed. "I mean, you personally personally?" He did not know where Linden and her friends were, but he trusted that she was many leagues behind him. How had the Feroce covered so much ground so quickly?

He could not afford to wonder how the creatures had tried to snare Linden, or what her resistance had cost her.

"We do not comprehend." Silver and green flared in the wide eyes of the creatures. Behind them, Branl stood like a statue, unmoved and unmoving. "We are the Feroce. We obey our High G.o.d. What is 'personally'? We are not one. We are many.

"Do you speak of the Feroce standing before you? We have no answer. At our High G.o.d's command, we pursued you from the most seaward extent of the Sarangrave. The female of your kind we approached far to the west. There is no 'personally.' We are only the Feroce. We serve our High G.o.d in many places."

"All right." Covenant made no effort to m.u.f.fle his vexation. He needed to keep his back straight; needed to appear wrathful and dangerous. "I'm going to a.s.sume you aren't the same creatures that attacked the woman." If they were, he wanted a better explanation; but he did not know how to obtain it. "Go on. Your High G.o.d is right. He can't save himself by making enemies."

The Feroce seemed to hesitate. Perhaps they had lost the thread of their instructions. But then their flames burned brighter, strict with coercion. Timorous as sycophants, they resumed in their single voice.

"You are the Pure One, redeemer of the jheherrin jheherrin, ally of the sur-jheherrin sur-jheherrin. But you are also the wielder of abhorrent metal. The deliverer of agony. Such agony as our High G.o.d has never known. We dare not oppose you. We must not. We are dust.

"Havoc awaits our High G.o.d. He must have aid. In his name, we now seek alliance."

There the creatures fell silent as if they feared an immediate refusal.

Covenant paused for a moment, thinking furiously. As far as he could tell, the Feroce were sincere. And they had invoked the name of the Pure One: he could not ignore that. But he did not know enough about them.

He wanted to thump himself on the head, jar loose the memories he needed; but he resisted the temptation. "We'll get to that," he repeated. "I still have questions.

"Who or what is your High G.o.d? I've never heard of him."

The Feroce gaped as though they were utterly baffled; as though his question made no sense in any language known to them.

"He is the High G.o.d," they offered tentatively. "He is our High G.o.d. Others do not wors.h.i.+p him. We-"

Abruptly they froze as if their minds had been seized by an alien thought. For an instant, their consternation was so plain that Covenant almost took pity on them. But the sickening hue of emerald writhed in their hands; and the moment pa.s.sed.

"Others," they said more strongly. "You ask of others. We do not comprehend. But they speak of him by false names and affronts. One we are commanded to utter." They rolled their eyes in strange terror. "It is Horrim Carabal."

At once, they ducked their heads as though they expected to be struck down for blasphemy.

Ah, h.e.l.l! Covenant thought. The lurker-The idea staggered him, even though the Feroce had already implied it clearly enough. The lurker lurker had become a deity to these creatures? That was something he should have been able to remember- had become a deity to these creatures? That was something he should have been able to remember- "How-?" he began in confusion. "You wors.h.i.+p that that-?" Then he took hold of himself; crossed his arms on his chest to contain his chagrin. "Never mind. I don't need to know. What I need to know is, who are you you? Where do you come from? And why do you live in the Sarangrave? Were you made made there? Did you end up there from someplace else?" there? Did you end up there from someplace else?"

Why did they know enough about the Land's history to speak of the jheherrin jheherrin, the sur-jheherrin sur-jheherrin, and the Pure One?

"We are the Feroce," the creatures insisted anxiously. "You are aware of this. You cannot be unaware. You are the Pure One. You bore tokens of power foretold to the jheherrin jheherrin. You brought about the downfall of the Maker and the Maker-place. You redeemed our far ancestors from enslavement and terror."

They nodded together, indicating compliance to some form of command. "You are the Pure One," they said again. "You have spoken with the jheherrin jheherrin. You have been aided by them. We do not comprehend your question. Were you unaware that the numbers of our ancestors were too vast to be counted? Were you unaware that they had no wish to remain in their perilous tunnels when the Maker-place had fallen? They were the soft ones. For an age, they feared to depart. But as the region of their former horror declined increasingly to dust and death, and the Maker's lingering evil waned, they resolved to seek the water and mud of a kinder home."

As they spoke, their voice took on more complex rhythms. In their minds, apparently, their tale required a different cadence. "Many and many of them, aussat Befylam aussat Befylam, fael Befylam fael Befylam, roge Befylam roge Befylam, others too fearful to endure your sight, all who sought to repay the gift of life with life-all endured the long labor northward, bitter and loathsome, questing always from water and mud to water and mud in search of a new habitation. Were you unaware of this?"

"The sur-jheherrin sur-jheherrin told me a few things," Covenant admitted reluctantly. "I guessed a few. But that doesn't answer my question." told me a few things," Covenant admitted reluctantly. "I guessed a few. But that doesn't answer my question."

How had the jheherrin jheherrin in their many forms become creatures like the in their many forms become creatures like the skest skest and the Feroce? and the Feroce?

Why did the Feroce consider the lurker a G.o.d?

The idea that he needed allies like the lurker of the Sarangrave filled him with curses.

"You are the Pure One," the creatures repeated as if that name had the force of liturgy, "wielder of metal and agony. You cannot be unaware of the majesty that thrives in the Sarangrave. You cannot be unaware of its glory over marsh and fen and swamp, its grandeur among all that swims and slithers and crawls and burrows and scurries. We do not comprehend how you can be unaware that majesty transforms. Its powers are wondrous. It wrought wonders upon the soft ones. It wrought variously upon the several Befylam Befylam of the of the jheherrin jheherrin, but all were transformed.

"From among the Befylam Befylam arose the arose the skest skest, mindless and servile, too easily swayed to grant our High G.o.d his due homage. For an age of the Sarangrave, they followed his command, hearing no other. Then they were called to new service. The Feroce despise them.

"Others of the jheherrin jheherrin begat the begat the sur-jheherrin sur-jheherrin, too fearful to honor their true lord, and too cunning to attract his notice. The Feroce despise them also.

"Wiser, others from each Befylam Befylam sought oneness with our High G.o.d. The Pure One was gone. In his absence, they yearned to repay salvation with surrender. Their wish was granted. Our High G.o.d devoured them. They nourished his increase of majesty. The Feroce revere them. sought oneness with our High G.o.d. The Pure One was gone. In his absence, they yearned to repay salvation with surrender. Their wish was granted. Our High G.o.d devoured them. They nourished his increase of majesty. The Feroce revere them.

"But among the jheherrin jheherrin, some desired purpose in another form. Humble, they did not aspire to oneness. Grateful for redemption, they craved abas.e.m.e.nt rather than surrender. Their wish our High G.o.d granted as well. From several forms of the soft ones, he brought forth the Feroce to do his bidding. Generation unto generation, we multiply in homage. Thus we complete the redemption of the jheherrin jheherrin."

Inwardly Covenant squirmed. He wanted to protest; wanted to deliver denials as unanswerable as the krill krill. Directly or indirectly, the Feroce held him responsible for their devotion to the lurker. The logic of their grat.i.tude toward the Pure One had led them to adore and serve one of the Land's most enduring evils.

But Covenant was not the Pure One. He was not not. From the first, the jheherrin jheherrin and their descendants had mistaken him for Saltheart Foamfollower. Yet that was irrelevant here. The Feroce and their descendants had mistaken him for Saltheart Foamfollower. Yet that was irrelevant here. The Feroce believed believed. Their misapprehension both d.a.m.ned and blessed him.

It was d.a.m.nable that he had played any inadvertent part in inspiring their service. But it was also a blessing. Because of their confusion, they feared him too much to oppose him. And the lurker feared him enough to offer an alliance.

Horrim Carabal feared the Worm of the World's End more.

He suspected that this was Linden's doing. Somehow her defeat of the Feroce had forced the lurker to recognize that its malevolence was ultimately suicidal.

Pain and mortality could have that effect.

Struggling to contain his shame and ire and repudiation, Covenant clung to the idea that Linden had saved him. It was fitting. As fitting as his certainty that Joan stood among the ruins of Foul's Creche. There are There are always always evil means evil means. Even a horror like the lurker of the Sarangrave might accomplish something good in the end.

Rigid with internal conflict, Covenant said through his teeth, "I understand. I think you're telling the truth. Now I'm ready to talk about an alliance."

"Ur-Lord," Branl put in, warning him. "You speak of the lurker of the Sarangrave. Even the Ranyhyn fear such evil."

Covenant ignored the Humbled. "What are you offering?"

The Feroce also ignored Branl. Cringing before Covenant or Loric's krill krill, they answered, "Our High G.o.d offers safe pa.s.sage throughout the great Sarangrave for all who resist the end of life. Already he suffers the presence of one who wanders lost within his realm, bearing a token of power which has no worth against havoc. He will suffer more. All who aid you will be permitted freedom and sanctuary in Sarangrave Flat."

One who wanders-? Covenant could not guess who that might be, and did not try. "Go on."

"Also," said the Feroce, malleable as mud, "we will combat the skest skest in your name. The Feroce despise them. Our High G.o.d feels the approach of havoc. He feels a lesser power as well. From cruel metal, it brings forth lesser hurts. It has wrought other agonies. And it is served by the in your name. The Feroce despise them. Our High G.o.d feels the approach of havoc. He feels a lesser power as well. From cruel metal, it brings forth lesser hurts. It has wrought other agonies. And it is served by the skest skest. Our High G.o.d commands that lesser havocs must cease. They deflect might from the preservation of his life.