Thomas Covenant 03: Power That Preserves by Stephen R. Donaldson Read Free Book Online Page A

Loresraat and the Wards have been brought here intact. All the visitors and those made homeless by the march of Satansfist’s army through the Center Plains have come seeking sanctuary. Revelwood is besieged.”
    He stopped again, and Mhoram asked quietly, “What word do the Lorewardens bring of that army?”
    “It is—vast, High Lord. It assaults the Valley of Two Rivers like a sea. The Giant-Raver Satansfist bears with him the—the same power which we saw in Fleshharrower at the battle of Doriendor Corishev. He easily overcame the river fords of the Rill and Llurallin. Revelwood will soon fall to him.”
    The High Lord put a measure of sternness in his voice to counter Quaan’s dismay. “We were forewarned, Warmark. When the Giant-Raver and his horde climbed Landsdrop to the north of the Plains of Ra, the Ramen sent word to us. Therefore the Loresraat has been preserved.”
    Quaan braced one hand on his sword and said, “Lord Callindrill has remained in Revelwood.”
    Mhoram winced in painful surprise.
    “He has remained to defend the tree city. With him are five Howard commanded by Hiltmark Amorine—also Sword-Elder Drinishok and Staff-Elder Asuraka.”
    After the first jolt of the news, the High Lord’s gold-flecked irises concentrated dangerously. “Warmark, the Council commanded that Revelwood should be defended only by those of the lillianrill who could not bear to abandon it. The Council commanded that the battle for the Land should take place here”—he slapped the table with his palm—“where we can exact the greatest possible price for our lives.”
    “You and I are not at Revelwood,” Quaan replied bluntly. “Who there could command Lord Callindrill to turn aside from his purpose? Amorine could not—you know this. They are bound together by the costs they bore at Doriendor Corishev. Nor could she leave him alone. Nor could she refuse the aid of the Elders.”
    His voice was sharp in Hiltmark Amorine’s defense, but he stopped when Mhoram with a distracted gesture waved all questions of anger aside. They remained together in silence for a moment. The High Lord felt an aching anticipation of grief, but he forced it down. His eyes wandered back to the bust on the table. Softly, he said, “Has this word been given to Faer Callindrill-mate?”
    “Corimini the Eldest of the Loresraat went to her at once. Callindrill studied with him, and he has known them both for many years. He apologized for not first paying his respects to the High Lord.”
    Mhoram shrugged away the need for any apology. His helplessness to reach Callindrill hurt him. He was six days from Revelwood by horse. And he could not call upon the Ranyhyn. The Despiser’s army had effectively cut Revelstone off from the Plains of Ra; any Ranyhyn that tried to answer a summons would almost certainly be slaughtered and eaten. All the High Lord could do was wait—and pray that Callindrill and his companions fled Revelwood before Satansfist encircled them. Two thousand warriors and the Hiltmark of the Warward, two of the leaders of the Lorewardens, one Lord—it was a terrible price to pay for Callindrill’s bravado.
    But even as he thought this, Mhoram knew that Callindrill was not acting out of bravado. The Lord simply could not endure the thought that Revelwood might perish. Mhoram privately hoped Satansfist would let the tree stand—use it rather than destroy it. But Callindrill had no such hope. Ever since he had faltered during the battle of Doriendor Corishev, he had seen himself as a man who had disgraced his Lord’s duty, failed to meet the challenge of the Land’s need. He had seen himself as a coward. And now Revelwood, the fairest work of the new Lords, was under attack. Mhoram sighed again, and gently touched the bone of the marrowmeld with his fingers.
    In the back of his mind, he was readying his decision.
    “Quaan, my friend,” he mused grimly, “what have we accomplished in seven years?”
    As if this signaled an