Thomas Covenant 6 - White Gold Wielder by Stephen R. Donaldson

Author:Stephen R. Donaldson
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2011-03-20T05:00:00+00:00

240 White Gold Wielder

Behind her, Pitchwife retched for air as if his exertions had torn the tissues of his cramped lungs. Mistweave shivered toward convulsions as Courser-poison spread into him. Sunder’s face was gray with exhaustion; Hollian had to hold him to file:///F|/rah/Stephen%20Donaldson/Donaldson…Covenant%206%20White%20Gold%20Wielder%20.txt (197 of 399) [1/19/03 11:38:42 PM]

file:///F|/rah/Stephen%20Donaldson/Donaldson%20Covenant%206%20White%20Gold%20Wielder%20.txt keep him on his feet. Six of the Haruchai had been bumed by the Grim and nearly crippled; one was in Mistweave’s plight, gouged by a spur during the battle. Findail had vanished. Linden looked as bitter as acid.

And Honninscrave was gone. Nom was gone. Seeking their individual conceptions of ruin in the heart of Revelstone.

Too many lives. Too much pain. And Covenant was no closer to his goal than the entrance-hall of the na-Mhoram’s

Keep.

That tears it, he thought dumbly. That is absolutely enough.

I will not take any more of this.

“Linden,” he said thickly. His voice was hoarse with fire.

“Tell Pitchwife how to treat these people.”

For an instant, her eyes widened. He feared that she would demur. She was a physician: seven Haruchai and Mistweave needed her sorely. But then she seemed to understand him.

The Land also required healing. And she had wounds of her own which demanded care.

Turning to Pitchwife, she said, “You’ve got some vitrim left.” In spite of the Banefire, her senses had become explicit, immune to bafflement. “Use it on the bums. Give diamondraught to everybody who’s hurt.” Then she gazed squarely back at Covenant. “Mistweave’s arm can wait. But voure is the only thing I know of that’ll help against the poison.”

He did not hesitate; he had no hesitation left. “Cail,’* he said, “you know Revelstone. And you know voure.” The distilled sap which the Clave used to ward off the effects of the sun of pestilence had once saved Call’s life. “Tell your people to find some.” There were only four Haruchai uninjured.

“And tell them to take Sunder and Hollian with them.” Hollian was experienced with voure. “For God’s sake, keep them safe.”

Without waiting for a response, he swung toward the First.

“What you ought to do is secure our retreat.” His tone thickened like blood. He had told all his companions to stay out of Revelstone, and none of them obeyed. But they would obey him now. He would not accept refusal. “But it’s too late

The Banefire 241

for that. I want you to go after Honninscrave. Find him somehow. Don’t let him do it—whatever it is.”

Then he faced Call again. “I don’t need to be protected. Not anymore. But if there’s anybody left in the hold,” any villagers or Haruchai the Clave had not yet shed, “they need help.

Break in there somehow. Get them out. Before they’re fed to the Banefire.

“Linden and I are going after Gibbon.”

None of his companions protested. He was impossible to refuse. He held the world in his hands, and his skin seemed to be wearing thinner, so that the black power gnawing in him file:///F|/rah/Stephen%20Donaldson/Donaldson…Covenant%206%20White%20Gold%20Wielder%20.txt (198 of 399) [1/19/03 11:38:42 PM]

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