Summoning her frayed courage, she pulled a chair close to the table so that she would be able to reach the tray of food. When she had seated herself, poured a flagon of springwine, and taken a few swallows, she met the expectant stares of her friends and began.
She said nothing about Esmer: she trusted that Mahrtiir had told the tale of Esmer’s recent appearance. Embarrassed on Covenant’s behalf, she made no mention of his drinking. And she glossed over his apparently aimless comments about Berek Halfhand and Kevin Landwaster. In retrospect, Covenant’s description of Kevin seemed whetted with foreboding. With so much peril crowding around her and her companions, Linden heard prophecy in Kevin’s plight. He wanted to be punished- But on that subject, she swallowed her fears.
Everything else, however, she conveyed with as much clarity as she could command: Covenant’s strangeness, and Jeremiah’s; the self absorbed and stilted relationship between them; the discrepancy between them and her memories of them; the oblique inadequacy and occasional scorn of their answers. Hugging the Staff to her chest, she admitted that Covenant had asked for his ring-and that she had not complied. With difficulty, she acknowledged that the blame for her reluctance and distress might lie in her. And she finished by telling her friends that Covenant had asked her for something in return. A little bit of trust.
Then I won’t have to explain what I’m going to do. I can show you.
“There’s only one other thing that I can tell you,” she concluded thinly. “They don’t love me anymore. They’ve changed too much. That part of them is gone.”
Finally a wash of lassitude seemed to carry away her last strength. The effort of holding her emotions at bay had wearied her; and she found that she needed the sustenance of aliantha in springwine-and needed as well at least a modicum of numbness. When she had emptied half of her flagon, she took a little fruit and chewed it listlessly. As she did so, she kept her head down, avoiding the uncertainty and trepidation of her friends.
For a long moment, they faced her in silence. They had stopped eating: they seemed almost to have stopped breathing. Then Liand asked cautiously, “If the Unbeliever seeks your aid in his intent, will you give it?”
Linden jerked up her head. She had not considered the possibility-But of course Liand’s question made sense. Why else had Covenant come here, bringing Jeremiah with him? Certainly he wanted his ring. However, he was prepared for the chance-the likelihood? — that she would refuse: he had said so. Then why had he asked for a show of trust? I know another way to make this mess turn out right. He and Jeremiah could have simply dismissed her and put his other plans into effect-unless those plans required her participation.
Meet us up on the plateau tomorrow.
“I have to,” she answered slowly. “I already know that I won’t like what they want me to do. But if I don’t cooperate, I’ll never learn the truth. About either of them.”
In fact, she could not imagine refusing them. They wanted her aid in some way. They had reason to be afraid of her. And they would not let her touch them.
The truth had become as vital to her as her son’s life.
Liand nodded. Although he frowned darkly, he accepted her reasoning.
After another moment, Stave unfolded his arms if he were readying himself for combat. “You have informed the ur-Lord that you intend to make use of the Staff. What will you attempt?”
Linden pressed her cheek against the comforting strictures of the Staff. “I’ll tell you,” she promised. “Before you go,” before she was left alone with her mourning, “we’ll make our own plans. But this whole day”- she grimaced- “has taken a lot out of me. I need a little time.”
Across the table, she faced Liand and the Ramen. “And you have something to tell me. I can feel it. Something happened to you-something more than Glimmermere. If you’re willing to talk about it, I want to hear what it was.”
At once, as if she had prodded a forgotten worry, Mahrtiir, Bhapa, Pahni, and Liand became restless. Anele appeared unaware that Linden had spoken, and Stave betrayed no reaction. But hesitation clouded the eyes of the others. None of them looked at her directly. Liand studied his hands, Bhapa frowned at the hearth as though the flames puzzled him, and Pahni focused her attention anxiously on Liand. Only Mahrtiir conveyed a sense of anticipation; but he closed his eyes and scowled fiercely, apparently attempting to conceal what he felt.
Then, however, the Manethrall opened his eyes to meet Linden’s gaze. “We scruple to reply,” he said roughly. “because we have no wish to augment the burdens which you must bear. Yet I deem it false friendship to withhold what has transpired. Therefore I will answer.
“When I parted from you, some time passed while I gathered together the Cords, the Stonedownor, and Anele so that I might guide them to Glimmermere. Together we traversed the impending stone until at last we regained the open sky of the plateau.
“There we beheld rainfall upon the mountains, and a storm gathering. But we have no fear of the world’s weather. Rather we rejoiced that we were freed from stone and constraint. And we had grown eager for the sight of Glimmermere. Therefore we made haste among the hills, that we might gain the eldritch tarn swiftly.
As we did so, Anele appeared to accompany us willingly”- Liand and Pahni nodded in confirmation- “though you had informed us that he would eschew the waters. He spoke constantly to himself as we hastened-” For a moment, Mahrtiir dropped his gaze as if he felt a touch of chagrin. It may be that we should have attended to his words. You have informed us that his madness is altered by that which lies beneath his feet. Some insight might have been gleaned from him.” Then the Manethrall looked at Linden again. “But we have grown accustomed to his muttering, which is largely incomprehensible to us. And our eagerness distracted us. We were grateful only that he kept pace without urging.”
Linden stared at him. The grass. Damn it, she thought, the grass. The region above Revelstone was not as lush as the Verge of Wandering, but its emerald and fertile greensward resembled the tall grass of that valley. And she had given not one moment’s consideration to how walking across the upland might affect the old man. She had been so shaken by her meeting with Esmer-and so apprehensive about talking to Covenant and Jeremiah-
“I made the same mistake,” she admitted to assuage her own chagrin. “We’ve all had a lot on our minds. Please go on.”
“Nonetheless,” Mahrtiir asserted severely, “the old man was altered. Failing to observe him clearly, we failed both him and you.
“I will not prolong my preamble. Together we gained the shores of the tarn. There we cast no reflection upon the waters, although Anele’s image was plainly visible. True to your word, he would not partake of Glimmermere’s benison. When we drank, however-when we had bathed and been transformed-”
Abruptly the Manethrall stopped, caught by a resurgence of his earlier reluctance.
Leaning forward earnestly, Liand explained on Mahrtiir’s behalf, “Linden, Anele spoke to us. He has not done so ere now. Always his moments of clear speech have been directed to you, or have been uttered in your name.” Bewilderment filled the Stonedownor’s face. “Upon the verges of Glimmermere, however, he addressed each of us in turn. And his manner of speaking-”
When Liand stumbled, Mahrtiir forced himself to resume. His voice was husky as he said, “Ringthane, it appeared to us that his voice resembled his fashion of speech when he accosted you in the Verge of Wandering, before fire and fury possessed him, and he was struck down for your preservation. And his words held such gentleness and sorrow that our hearts were wrung to hear him.”