“Thomas Covenant, do not turn aside from Andelain. It is my wish to accompany you.”
For a long moment, no one spoke. Then Covenant said in a husky voice, “Thanks. That helps.”
Softly, Hollian re-covered the krill, let darkness wash back over the company. The night was the colour of her hair, and it spread its wings out to the stars.
The next day, the red sun asserted its hold over the Land more swiftly, building on what it had already done. The company was forced out of the watercourse well before mid-morning. Still they made steady progress. Every southward league softened the hills slightly, and by slow degrees the going became easier. The valleys between the rises grew wider; the slopes, less rugged. And Hollian had said that the next day would bring a sun of ram. Severely, Linden tried to tell herself that she had no reason to feel so beaten, so vulnerable to the recurring blackness of her life.
But the Sunbane shone full upon her. It soaked into her as if she had become a sponge for the world's ill. The stink of pestilence ran through her blood. Hidden somewhere among the secrets of her bones was a madwoman who believed that she deserved such desecration. She wanted power in order to extirpate the evil from herself.
Her percipience was growing keener-and so her distress was keener.
She could not inure herself to what she felt No amount of determination or decision was enough. Long before noon, she began to stumble as if she were exhausted. A red haze covered her mind, blinding her to the superficial details of the terrain, the concern of her friends. She was like the Land, powerless to heal herself. But when Covenant asked her if she wanted to rest, she made no answer and went on walking. She had chosen her path and did not mean to stop.
Yet she heard the First's warning. Unsteady on her feet, her knees locked, she halted with Covenant as the Giants came back at a tense trot from a low ridge ahead of the company. Distress aggravated Pitchwife's crooked features. The First looked apprehensive, like iron fretted with rust. But in spite of their palpable urgency, they did not speak for a moment. They were too full of what they had seen.
Then Pitchwife groaned far back in his throat. “Ah, Earthfriend.” His voice shuddered. “You have forewarned us of the consequences of this Sunbane-but now I perceive that I did not altogether credit your words. It is heinous beyond speech.”
The First gripped her sword as an anchor for her emotions. “We are blocked from our way,” she said, articulating the words like chewed metal. “Perchance we have come blindly upon an army of another purpose-but I do not believe it. I believe that the Despiser has reached out his hand against us.”
Trepidation beat the haze from Linden's mind. Her mouth shaped a question. But she did not ask it aloud. The Giants stood, rigid, before her; and she could see as clearly as language that they had no answer.
“Beyond that ridge?” asked Covenant. “How far?” “A stone's throw for a Giant,” the First replied grimly. “No more. And they advance toward us.”
He glanced at Linden to gauge her condition, then said to the First, “Let's go take a look.”
She nodded, turned on her heel and strode away. He hurried after her Linden, Sunder, and Hollian followed. Pitchwife placed himself protectively at Linden's side. Vain and Findail quickened their steps to keep up with the company.
At the ridgecrest, Covenant squatted behind a boulder and peered down the southward slope. Linden joined him. The Giants crouched below the line of sight of what lay ahead. Findail also stopped. Careful to avoid exposing themselves, Sunder and Hollian crept forward. But Vain moved up to the rim as if he wanted a clear view and feared nothing.
Covenant spat a low curse under his breath; but it was not directed at the Demondim-spawn. It was aimed at the black seethe of bodies moving toward the ridge on both sides of the watercourse.
As black as Vain himself.
The sight of them sucked the strength from Linden's limbs.
She knew what they were because Covenant had described them to her-and because she had met the Waynhim of Hamako's rhysh. But they had been changed. Their emanations rose to her like a shout, telling her precisely what had happened to them. They had fallen victim to the desecration of the Sunbane.
“Ur-viles,” Covenant whispered fiercely. “Hell and blood”
Warped Ur-viles.
Hundreds of them.
Once they had resembled the Waynhim: larger, black instead of grey; but with the same hairless bodies, the same limbs formed for running on all fours as well as for walking erect, the same eyeless faces and wide, questing nostrils. But no longer. The Sunbane had made them monstrous.
Over the sickness m her stomach. Linden thought bleakly that Lord Foul must have done this to them. Like the Waynhim, the ur-viles were too lore-wise to have exposed themselves accidentally to the sun's first touch. They had been corrupted deliberately and sent here to block the company's way.
“Why?” she breathed, aghast. “Why?”
“Same reason as always,” Covenant growled without looking away from the grotesque horde. “Force me to use too much power.” Then suddenly his gaze flashed toward her. “Or to keep us out of Andelain. Exposed to the Sunbane. He knows how much it hurts you. Maybe he thinks it'll make you do what he wants.”
Linden felt the truth of his words. She knew she could not stay sane forever under the pressure of the Sunbane. But a bifurcated part of her replied. Or maybe he did it to punish them. For doing something he didn't like.
Her heart skipped a beat.
For making Vain?
The Demondim-spawn stood atop the ridge as if he sought to attract the notice of the horde.
“Damnation!” Covenant muttered. Creeping back a short way from the rim, he turned to the Giants. “What're we going to do?”
The First did not hesitate. She gestured eastward along the valley below the ridge. "There lies our way. Passing their flank unseen, we may hope to outrun them toward Andelain.”
Covenant shook his head. “That won't work. This isn't exactly the direct route to Andelain-or Mount Thunder, for that matter-but Foul still knew where to find us. He has some way of locating us. It's been done before.” He glared at his memories, then thrust the past side. “If we try to get around them, they'll know it.”
The First scowled and said nothing, momentarily at a loss for alternatives. Linden put her back to the boulder, braced her dread on the hard stone. “We can retreat,” she said. “Back the way we came.” Covenant started to protest; but she overrode him. “Until tomorrow. When the rain starts. I don't care how well they know where we are. They're going to have trouble finding us in the rain.” She was sure of that. She knew from experience that the Sunbane's torrents were as effective as a wall, “Once the rain starts, we can ride the river right through the middle of them.”
Covenant frowned. His jaws chewed a lump of bitterness. After a moment, he asked, “Can you do it? Those ur-viles aren't likely to rest at night. We'll have to keep going until dawn. And we'll have to stay right in front of them. So they won't have time to react when we try to get past them.” He faltered out of consideration for her, then forced himself to say, “You're already having trouble just staying on your feet.”