Thomas Covenant 8 - The Fatal Revenant by Stephen R. Donaldson Read Free Book Online Page A

still think and
    choose—while she could still
    determine her own actions—she meant to make use of the time.
    As Mahrtiir had guided her up through the Keep, she had resolved to find some answers.
    She was on her way to Glimmermere because she had once been there with Thomas Covenant: a brief time of unconstrained love after the defeat of the na-Mhoram and the quenching of
    the Banefire. She hoped to recapture at the eldritch lake some sense of what she and Covenant had meant to each other; of who she was. But now she had another purpose as well. The strange potency of Glimmermere’s waters might give her the power to be heard—
    With Mahrtiir beside her and the Staff hugged in her arms, she walked steadily—grim and dry-eyed, as though she were not weeping inside—out of
    Revelstone onto the low upland hills which rumpled the plateau between Lord’s Keep and the jagged pinnacles of the Westron Mountains.
    Here she could see the handiwork of Sunder and Hollian, who had accepted the stewardship of the Land thirty-five centuries ago. When she had walked into these hills with Thomas Covenant, the Sunbane had still ruled the Upper Land; and a desert sun had destroyed every vestige of vegetation. She and
    Covenant had crossed hard dirt and bare stone baked by the arid unnatural heat of the sun’s corona. But now
    Ah, now there was thick grass underfoot, abundant forage for herds of cattle and sheep. With her health-sense, she could see that the gentler slopes ahead of her were arable. Revelstone was nearly empty, and its comparatively few inhabitants were easily fed by the fields to the north of the watchtower. At need, however,
    crops could be planted here to support a much larger population. And there were trees—God, there were trees. Rich stands of pine and cedar accumulated off to her right until they grew so thickly that they obscured her view of the mountains in that direction. And ahead of her, clumps of delicate mimosa and arching jacaranda punctuated the hillsides until the slow rise and fall of the slopes seemed as articulate as language. Everywhere spring gave the air a tang which made
    all of the colors more vibrant and filled each scent with burgeoning.
    Under the Sunbane’s bitter curse, she had seen nothing here that was not rife with pain—until she and Covenant had reached the mystic lake which formed the headwater of the White River. Now everywhere she looked, both westward and around the curve of the sheer cliffs toward the north, the plateau had been restored to health and fertility. Somehow Linden’s long-dead friends
    had taught themselves how to wield both Earthpower and Law. While they lived, Sunder and Hollian had made luxuriant and condign use of the Staff. The beauty which greeted Linden’s sore heart above and behind Lord’s Keep was one result of their labors.
    Poor Anele, she thought as she walked toward the first trees. It was no wonder that his parents had filled him with astonishment; or that he had been daunted. Throughout their long lives,
    he had known the harsh aftereffects of the Sunbane—and had seen those enduring blights transformed to health. In his place, Linden, too, might have felt overwhelmed by their example.
    Yet neither Anele nor the restoration of these hills dominated her thoughts. At her side, the Manethrall lost some of his severity as he regained the wide sky and the kindly hills; but if he had spoken to her, she might not have heard him. While she walked, the
    prospect of Glimmermere filled her with memories of Thomas Covenant.
    When the threat of the Banefire had been extinguished, she had joined him in the private chambers which had once been High Lord Mhoram’s home. At that time, she had feared that he would reject her; scorn her love. Earlier his intention to enter alone and undefended into the inferno of the Clave’s evil had appalled her, and she tried to stop him by violating his mind,
    possessing him. That expression of her own capacity for evil might have