White Gold Wielder Read Free

heart, he returned the sightless stare of the dark and remained where he was.
    He had no measure for the passage of time; but the night was not far advanced when he heard a stiff, stretched voice rumble outside his door. It uttered words he was unable to distinguish. Yet Cail’s reply was precise. ‘The doom of the Earth is upon his head,” the
Haruchai
said. “Will you not pity him?”
    Too weary for indignation or argument, Honninscrave responded, “Can you believe that I mean him harm?”
    Then the door opened, and a lantern led the Master’s tall bulk into the cabin.
    The light seemed small against the irreducible night of the world; but it lit the chamber brightly enough to sting Covenant’s eyes, like tears he had not shed. Still he did not turn his head away or cover his face. He went on staring numbly at the ceiling while Honninscrave set the lantern on the table.
    The table was low for the size of the cabin. From the first day of the quest’s voyage, the Giantish furniture had been replaced by a table and chairs better suited to Covenant’s stature. As a result, the lantern threw the hammock’s shadow above him. He seemed to lie in the echo of his own dark.
    With a movement that made his sark sigh along the wall, Honninscrave lowered himself to the floor. After long moments of silence, his voice rose out of the wan light.
    “My brother is dead.” The knowledge still wrung him. “Having no other family since the passing of our mother and father, I loved him, and he is dead. The vision of his Earth-Sight gifted us with hope even as it blighted him with anguish, and now that hope is dead, and he will never be released. As did the Dead of The Grieve, he has gone out of life in horror. He will never be released. Cable Seadreamer my brother, bearer of Earth-Sight voiceless and valiant to his grave.”
    Covenant did not turn his head. But he blinked at the sting in his eyes until the shadow above him softened it.
The way of hope and doom
, he thought dumbly.
Lies open to you
. Perhaps for him that had been true. Perhaps if he had been honest with Linden, or had heeded the
Elohim
, the path of the One Tree might have held some hope. But what hope had there ever been for Seadreamer? Yet without hope the Giant had tried to take all the doom upon himself. And somehow at the last he had found his voice to shout a warning.
    Roughly Honninscrave said, “I beseeched of the Chosen that she speak to you, but she would not. When I purposed to come to you myself, she railed at me, demanding that I forbear. Has he not suffered sufficiently? she cried. Have you no mercy?” He paused briefly, and his voice lowered. “She bears herself bravely, the Chosen. No longer is she the woman of frailty and fright who quailed so before the lurker of the Sarangrave. But she also was bound to my brother by a kinship which rends her in her way.” In spite of her refusal, he seemed to believe that she deserved his respect.
    Then he went on, “But what have I to do with mercy or forbearance? They are too high for me. I know only that Cable Seadreamer is dead. He will never be released if you do not release him.”
    At that, Covenant flinched in surprise and pain. If
I
don’t—? He was sick with venom and protest. How can
I
release him? If revelation and dismay and Linden had not driven restraint so deeply into him during his struggle against the aura of the Worm of the World’s End, he would have burned the air for no other reason than because he was hurt and futile with power. How can I bear it?
    But his restraint held. And Honninscrave looked preternaturally reduced as he sat on the floor against the wall, hugging his unanswered grief. The Giant was Covenant’s friend. In that light, Honninscrave might have been an avatar of lost Saltheart Foamfollower, who had given Covenant everything. He still had enough compassion left to remain silent.
    “Giantfriend,” the Master said without lifting his head, “have you been given the