When Berek entered, he came like a man wreathed in storms. Indignant lightnings flickered in the depths of his eyes, and his expression was a thunderhead. Linden might have flinched if she had believed, even for an instant, that his ire was directed at her; or at Jeremiah and Covenant. But she grasped instinctively that he would not have been so unguarded if any of his guests had angered him.

"What have you done about Inbull, my lord?' she asked without thinking.

"He's betraying you. You must know that?'

The Theomach stiffened, but did not speak. Instead he dabbed at Jeremiah's eye as if he had heard nothing to alarm him.

Berek took a moment to compose himself. He poured wine into a flagon, drank a bit of it, grimaced ruefully. When he faced Linden's question, he had set aside his personal storm.

"The Warhaft has betrayed us. He betrays us still. Therefore he is of use.

"It is well that you did not accuse him in his presence. He believes himself unsuspected. Rather I have encouraged him to consider that he is secretly valued for his harshness. This night, I have strengthened his misapprehension." The memory brought back Berek's anger and disgust, although he did not unleash them. "He has contrived a means to communicate with the commander of our foes. Warmark Vettalor is a man with whom I am well familiar. We served together before my Queen broke with her King. I know his method of thought. Through Inbull, I am able to supply the Warmark with lies"-Berek snarled the words-"which he will credit. While the Warhaft's falseness remains unexposed, I hold an advantage which Vettalor does not suspect.

"I loathe such deceit," the first Halfhand admitted bitterly. "But my forces do not suffice to defeat Vettalor's. And I have no source of supply apart from the battlegrounds where I prevail, and the food which I scavenge from needy villages, while Vettalor retreats ever nearer to the wealth of Doriendor Corishev. It would be false service to my Queen, and to my warriors, and to my oath, if I declined the benefits of Inbull's treachery."

Which explained his ire and disgust, Linden mused. It explained why despair clung to him in spite of his salvation by the FireLions and his subsequent victories. By his severe standards, he bartered away his self-respect to purchase victory.

The Old Lords were all about despair. It gave them some of their greatest victories. To that extent, at least, Covenant had told her the truth. It's what saved Berek.

With an effort, Linden said quietly, "I see the problem." She wanted to cry out, He hit my son! But larger considerations-Berek's as well as her own-restrained her.

Whatever the Theomach's motives might be, he had given her good advice.

Nevertheless she pushed Berek further. "What did you tell Inbull about us?" She wanted some indication, however oblique, of where she and her companions stood with the future High Lord.

Drinking again, Berek replied, "Naught. His uncertainty concerning you will serve me well. I have merely"-his voice carried a sting of repugnance- "a.s.sured him privily that I find worth in his brutality."

Flourishing his arm in an obvious attempt to attract Berek's attention, the Insequent finished cleaning Jeremiah's wound. With the blood and grime gone from her son's face, Linden saw to her surprise that he had already begun to heal. Despite the swelling, he could slit open his left eye. To her ordinary senses, his eye itself appeared bloodshot, but essentially undamaged.

When Berek voiced his approval of the Theomach's care, the wrapped man replied, "My lord, it suffices that I have been of service. If I may say so without disrespect, however, greater matters than this boys hurt or lnbull's betrayal lie between us. We would do well to speak of them while we may."

"Perhaps." Berek's worn sound grated against the Theomach's light a.s.surance. "Certainly you are strange to me. And your offer of aid is disquieting, for it appears to be given without cause. We will speak of it. If my many needs compel me to endure lnbull's betrayals, I can refuse no other a.s.sistance. But the queries which fill my heart pertain chiefly to the lady Linden.

"Of her companions, I ask nothing. She has vouched for them, and her word contents me. To them I say only"-now he turned to Linden's son and the Unbeliever-"Jeremiah, Covenant, I regret that my use of Inbull has harmed you. If you wish any boon that I may grant in my present straits, you need merely name it."

Jeremiah ducked his head; said nothing. Glowering with the heat of embers in his eyes, Covenant muttered, "Just give Linden whatever she wants so we can leave. Were in a hurry. We shouldn't be here at all."

"My lord Berek," the Theomach put in insistently, "you do well to accept the lady's word. And the man suggests truly that his only desire is to depart. Will you not accept my word also? The powers which this man and this boy aye, and the lady also-command have no meaning here. Her purpose, and that of her companions, lies at a great distance from all that you do. It will in no wise affect you. For the sake of your many needs, you must speak to me."

Berek folded his arms across his thick chest. In a voice as heavy as his hands, he announced. "Stranger, I do not accept your word. Yet we will speak, since you would have it so. If you seek to be heeded, tell me what you are."

"My lord," the Theomach replied promptly, "I am three things. First, I am a seeker after knowledge. My people live in a land too distant to be named, for its name would convey nothing. We have no concern for the small affrays of the Earth. Yet we wander widely-though ever alone-questing for knowledge wherever it may be gleaned. My questing has brought me to you."

While the Insequent answered, Linden crossed the tent to align herself with Covenant and Jeremiah. They had brought her here. Although she did not trust Covenant, he and her son were her only defense against Berek's probing.

"Second," the Theomach continued, "I am a warrior of considerable prowess. At your leisure, you may test my claim in any form that pleases you. For the present, I will state plainly that none of your foes can stand against me in battle."

Whispering in the hope that only Covenant and Jeremiah would hear her, Linden asked. "Is that true?"

Perhaps Berek did not hear her. If he did, he kept his attention and his deep gaze fixed on the Theomach.

But Covenant was less discreet. "h.e.l.l, yes," he growled. "You have no idea.

You've seen that knowledge he's so proud of in action. Think about what he could do in a fight."

If the Theomach were able to step between moments, he could strike as often as he wished without being seen or opposed- Still he spoke as if he and Berek were alone. "Third," he continued, "I am a teacher. Much has occurred to you and within you that remains unexplained. I comprehend such matters, and I desire to impart my understanding. Lord Berek, my instruction will increase your strength and insight. It will ensure your triumph in this war."

"Oh, please," Covenant put in sardonically. "Tell him the truth." His impulse to provoke the Insequent seemed to increase with every swallow of wine.

The Theomach shrugged. "In truth, I do not doubt your triumph, my lord, with or without my aid. Against Warmark Vettalor and such force as he commands, yours is the feller hand. Yet I fear no contradiction when I avow that my guidance will preserve many lives among your warriors. And I state with certainty that you will never fully grasp the extent of your oath, or the import of your larger purpose, without my teaching."

"You are facile, stranger," said Berek gruffly. With his arms folded, he looked as immovable as a tree. He had become the center on which his world turned, and he kept his self-doubt hidden. "You speak of aid, but you do not reveal your purpose. Why do you offer your a.s.sistance?"

If the Theomach had any acquaintance with self-doubt, he, too, concealed it. Shrugging again, he admitted, "My lord, I have no reply that will readily content you. The questing of those who seek for knowledge is by necessity oblique, instinctive, and indefinite. They themselves cannot name their object until it is discovered. I am able to say only that I believe I will gain knowledge in your service-aye, knowledge and honor-which would otherwise remain beyond my ken."

"He's a plausible b.a.s.t.a.r.d," Covenant remarked after a long gulp of wine, "I'll give him that."

Slowly the Theomach turned his secreted face toward Covenant. His manner caused Linden to hold her breath in apprehension.

"He's telling the truth," murmured Jeremiah uncomfortably.

"Oh, sure," Covenant snorted. "So could I. If only life were that simple."

But Berek refused to be distracted. "If you indeed desire to aid me," he demanded, "and wish to be known as the Theomach rather than as a stranger, I require some sign of truth or fealty. Display evidence of your knowledge. Demonstrate that your aid will not serve my foes."

Again the Theomach turned his head toward Covenant and Jeremiah like a warning.

Abruptly Covenant tossed his flagon into the nearest brazier. "Come on, Jeremiah." The coals were dimmed, and the reek of burning wine and honey steamed into the air. Then the wooden vessel took flame, making the tent bright for a moment. "Let's go find Damelon. Maybe he'll help us pick a fight with Inbull." He held his left hand over his sore ribs, still keeping his halfhand in his pocket. "I want to repay some of this pain."

At once, Jeremiah set his flagon down beside Berek's longsword. Avoiding Linden's gaze, he accompanied Covenant obediently. They kept their distance from both Berek and her as they crossed the tent and ducked out under the flaps.

Linden appealed to Berek with her gaze, mutely asking him to call her companions back. But he answered her aloud. "A measure of retribution at their hands will serve my purposes. And Hand Damelon will ensure that Inbull suffers no lasting harm."

"It is well," p.r.o.nounced the Theomach. He may have been giving his approval to Berek's words-or to Covenant's and Jeremiah's departure. Then, however, he made his meaning clear. "In their absence, I may speak more freely."

Linden swallowed a desire to follow her son. She ached to protect him. And instinctively she wanted to avoid being alone with Berek. But she needed his help. And she could not imagine how the Theomach would convince Berek of anything.

The future High Lord searched the Insequent closely. "Do so, then."

"My lord Berek"-the Theomach's confidence was palpable-"you require evidence of my fealty, and I provide it thus.

"The tale is told that in your despair upon the slopes of Mount Thunder, ancient Gravin Threndor, the FireLions or the mountain or the very Earth spoke to you. Yet to avow that you indeed heard their speech is not sooth. It is merely a convenience, a means for pa.s.sing over that which cannot be explained. The truth is both more simple and more profound. Inspired by despair and desperation, you called out for succor, offering your oath in recompense. This you did because your need was absolute, and because you sensed, in a fashion which defies your explication, that Mount Thunder was a place of power amid the supernal loveliness of the Land. How or why your appeal was received and answered, you cannot declare."

Berek made a visible effort to mask his surprise; but his growing wonder was clear in spite of his self-control.

"Nonetheless," the Theomach continued, "a form of speech occurred. Words became known to you, Words which you did not hear, and which you could not comprehend. Because they had been given to you, their puissance was evident. Also no other course remained to you. Therefore you uttered them aloud. When the FireLions replied, you were as astonished as your foes.

"Since that moment, however, the Words have gone from you. You recall them only in dreams, and when you awaken, naught but sorrow remains.

"Is this not sooth, my lord?"

Berek nodded as if he were unaware of the movement. His troubled awe revealed that the Theomach was right.

"Then heed me well." Now the Insequent's tone took on a gravitas that compelled attention. Even the light appeared to condense around him, as if the lamps and the braziers and the very air were listening. "The Words were Seven, and they are these.

"The first is melenkurion, which signifies bastion or source. The second is abatha, suggesting endurance, or the need for endurance. Third is duroc, a reference to Earthpower, the substance of the fire which the lady wields. Fourth comes minas, which also means Earthpower, but in another sense. It indicates Earthpower as a foundation rather than as a form of theurgy."

As he spoke, each Word seemed to resonate and expand until it strained the fabric of the tent. "The fifth Word is mill, which cannot be defined in human speech, but which implies invocation. The sixth, harad, may be understood as a stricture against selfishness, tyranny, malice, or other forms of despair. It binds the speaker to make no use of Earthpower which does not serve or preserve the munificence of creation. And last is khabaal, to which many meanings may be ascribed. In your mouth, it is an affirmation or incarnation of your sworn oath to the Land."

The Theomach paused as if to let Berek-or perhaps Linden-absorb his revelation. They were silent. Echoes filled Linden's ears: she felt the potency of the Words ramify around her, multiplied toward horizons that lay beyond her comprehension. They encompa.s.sed possibilities which were too vast for her.

She had never heard Covenant mention the Seven Words. But the Theomach had just restored them to Berek's conscious mind. Surely they had not been lost before Covenant's first translation to the Land?

They had been given to her as well- A moment later, the Theomach said. "This tongue is spoken nowhere, other than by one race that I scorn to name, for it is the language of the Earth's making and substance rather than of the Earth's peoples. Yet it may be discovered, word by word, by those who seek deeply for knowledge-and who do not wish to bend or distort that knowledge for their own ends."

Then, unexpectedly, he turned to Linden. She could not see his expression through his bindings. Nevertheless she received the clear impression that he sought to sway her as much as to convince Berek.

"Aloud," he said distinctly, "the Seven Words are spoken thus. Melenkurion abatha. Duroc minas mill. Harad khabaal."

Before he had p.r.o.nounced ten syllables, the Staff of Law burst into flame. With each Word, the fire mounted until it enclosed her in conflagration: power gentle as a caress, entirely without hurt or peril, and jubilant as a paean. Soon the whole tent was full of blazing like joy and rebirth, exuberance and restoration: the true vitality of Law.

Some part of Linden clung to it, reveling in its exaltation. It resembled the gift of vitrim and the benison of Glimmermere, the tang of aliantha and the sovereign gold of hurtloam; the Land's limitless potential for glory. However, another aspect of her was mortal and afraid. The Words were distilled puissance. She had not chosen them, and could not hope to control their implications.

Reflexively she strove to quell the flames-and as soon as she did so, they fell away. Without transition, the fire was quenched, leaving her to the truncated insight of the lamps and braziers.

Within herself, she staggered at the suddenness of the change. When she remembered to look at her companions, she saw that Berek was both stunned and eager. He seemed unable to comprehend what he had heard and seen-and yet he had been lifted up in spite of his bafflement. A long burden of bereavement had fallen from his shoulders; and for a few moments, at least, fanged loss no longer gnawed at his spirit.

The Theomach watched her and Berek with apparent satisfaction. Are you content, my lord?" he asked as if he were sure of the answer. Will you now accept my companionship, that I may aid and tutor you'?"

Shuddering with effort, Berek mastered himself. When he had swallowed several times to clear his throat, he said hoa.r.s.ely. "My grat.i.tude is certain. I will say more when my lady has a.s.sured me that she is unharmed."

Linden could not rival his self-command; but she replied as clearly as she could, "Look at me, my lord. You can see. I'm as surprised as you are." And she wanted to weep with regret at her own weakness. "But I'm not hurt."

Slowly Berek nodded. "Yes, my lady Linden. I am indeed able to discern that you are whole. Therefore I will say to the Theomach"-still slowly, he turned to the Insequent as if each small movement cost him an exertion of will-"that my grat.i.tude is certain, but my acceptance remains in doubt. One further glimpse of your knowledge will content me."

The Theomach waited, motionless; but whether he intended to acquiesce or refuse, Linden could not determine.

With rigid care, Berek said, "You spoke of the munificence of creation. Will you name that munificence? Wherein does it lie? What is its nature? What does it portend? If these Seven Words will bind me, I must know that to which I will be bound."

"Life," replied the Theomach simply. "Growth. Enhancement." Then he added in a tone like an apology. "You will understand, my lord Berek, that neither I nor anyone may grasp the mind of this world's Creator. The needs and desires of that which is eternal surpa.s.s finite comprehension. Yet I deem that the Earth, and within it the Land, were formed as a habitation where living beings may gaze upon wonderment and terror, and seek to emulate or refuse them. The Earth and the Land are a dwelling-place where life may discover the highest in itself, or the lowest, according to its desires and choices."

Berek frowned, not in disapproval or chagrin, but in intense consideration. For a long moment, he regarded the Theomach as though he strove to penetrate the stranger's secrets with his burgeoning health-sense. Then he asked over his shoulder, "My lady Linden, do you conceive that the Theomach speaks sooth?"

His question startled Linden, and she answered without thinking, "I don't care." If she had paused for thought, the sheer weight of his query would have sealed her voice in her throat. "I want it to be true. So do you. Isn't that what matters?" Who was she to articulate the meaning of life? "Isn't it the only thing that matters?"

Berek growled in the back of his throat, a wordless sound fraught with both recognition and uncertainty. Still studying the Insequent, he announced formally, "Then I will say to my lord Theomach that I accept your companionship. Both aid and guidance will I greet with welcome. A man who speaks as you have done must be heeded, whatever his intent may be."

The Theomach responded with a bow and a salute, tapping his fist to his chest in homage. Interfering with Covenant's designs, he had gained what he wanted for himself. Inadvertently Linden had helped him win a measure of Berek's trust.

Having made his decision, however, Berek did not hesitate to move on. "Now you will leave us," he informed his new counselor. "I must speak with my lady Linden alone."

Oh, G.o.d. Linden flinched. Abruptly the entire s.p.a.ce of the tent seemed to become a pitfall: she felt beset by snares which she did not know how to avoid. In this circ.u.mstance, her mind cannot be distinguished from the Arch of Time. One wrong word- At once, the Theomach demurred. "My lord, this is needless. That which the lady desires of you is simple, and I do not doubt that her requests will be easily met. Nor will she and her companions endanger you in any fashion. You have accepted my aid and guidance. Do not unwisely set them aside."

Berek drew back his shoulders, lifted his chin. His tone was mild, but its mildness veiled iron. "My lord Theomach, I have said that my grat.i.tude is certain, as is my welcome. Yet my wisdom is my own. If I prove unwise, as I have often done, it will be through no fault of yours."

Linden wished that she could see the Theomach's eyes. She had the impression that his gaze shifted rapidly between Berek and her, searching for an argument that would sway the Halfhand-or for a way to warn her of perils which he could not state aloud. But then he repeated his bow and salute. Instead of stepping between moments to address Linden where Berek could not hear him, he turned to the flaps and left the tent.

A crisis was upon her, and she was not prepared for it. The Seven Words still echoed around her, baffling her with hints of hope and calamity.

But she had spoken and acted by instinct for long hours now. She was too weary to do otherwise. Trust yourself. If she had truly heard Covenant's voice in her dreams, not that of some malign misleading chimera- As Berek stepped closer with gentleness on his face and resolve in his eyes, Linden shrugged off her cloak as if to rid herself of an obstruction. The braziers had warmed the air: soon she would be too warm, alarmed or shamed by her conflicted doubts. Clinging to the Staff with both hands, she braced herself to meet his probing gaze.

He approached until he was little more than an arm's length away. There he stopped. Deliberately he folded his arms across his chest: a gesture of determination. He seemed to tower over her as he said, "My lady, you are troubled. Surely there is no need? My grat.i.tude is boundless, and my respect with it. The aid that you have both given and brought is beyond estimation. Why, then, do you fear me'?"

Linden could not answer him: any explanation would reveal too much. Instead she fell back on matters that she understood; subjects which she could broach safely. "Lord Berek, listen," she said with a tremor in her voice. "There are things that you have to do. Essential things. If you don't do them, you could win this war and still lose, even with the Theomach's help."

Speaking brusquely because she was frightened and tired, she told him. "You're killing your own wounded. Do you know that? Those blankets and pallets-the bandages-the tents They breed death. Your healers don't see it yet, but you will." The restoration of the Seven Words would evoke his latent powers. You can't prevent your people from being cut down," hacked at, pierced, trampled, "but you can save some of their lives."

Perplexed and frowning, Berek began. "With hurtloam-"

"No," Linden countered. "I don't know when you'll be able to find more of it, or how much of it you'll find. And it starts to lose its effectiveness as soon as its scooped out of the soil. You can't carry it very far."

In haste because she could not bear to be interrupted, she said harshly, You need to take a day off from this war. A day or two. Let your enemies retreat. If you think that they might counterattack, use Inbull to scare them out of it. Instead of fighting, soak every blanket and sc.r.a.p of bandage in boiling water.

If you can replace the pallets, burn them. Otherwise pour boiling water over them. And tell your healers-tell all of your people-to wash every wound. Those injuries have to be kept clean.

"I don't care how long it takes. Make the time. Your people are dying in droves, and I can't stay. If you want to save any of them after I'm gone, you have to keep them clean."

The grief in his gaze wrenched her heart. And if we cannot, my lady'?" he asked softly. If the blankets fall to tatters when they are boiled, and the bandages likewise, and we glean no resupply from the encampments which our foes abandon? What must we do then?"

"Oh, G.o.d." The extremity of his plight was unmistakable: it exceeded her courage. In his place, she would have been paralyzed by dismay long ago. If the Theomach can't tell you what to do, you'll have to find more hurtloam. And if you can't find enough hurtloam"she swallowed a lump of empathy and anguish-"you'll have to pour boiling water on those infections." The burns would be terrible, but they would slow some of the poisons. "Anything to keep them clean."

As she faltered, however, he grew stronger. His bravery was founded on the needs of the people around him.

He had come so far and accomplished so much, not because the FireLions had responded to his desperation, but simply because he could not turn away from the plight of his people and his Queen. He was full of grief and understood despair: therefore he rejected both fear and defeat.

"My lady," he said with rough kindness, "we will attempt your counsel. I cannot avow success, yet the gift of your lore will be treasured among us. As occasion permits, we will garner its benefits. You teach the worth of healing. It will not be forgotten. Songs will be sung of you to lift the heart, and tales will be told that surpa.s.s generations. Wherever those who serve my Queen and the Land are gathered together-"

"No!" Linden protested frantically. The thought of ripples appalled her. They would expand-"No, it's better, believe me, it's better if you don't talk about this. I mean anything that's happened tonight. Don't discuss it, don't refer to it. Don't keep the story alive. I'm begging you, my lord. I'll get down on my knees if you want." Vertorn had offered to prostrate himself: she would follow his example. "And the Theomach will insistI can't stay. And I don't deserve-"

A legend of Linden the Healer would alter the Land's known history. It might do enough harm to topple the Arch.

Berek raised his hands: a gesture of placation. "My lady," he murmured to soothe her. "My lady. Quiet your distress. There is no need. I will honor your wish.

All in this camp will deem it strange that I do not speak of you. But if you seek the boon of my silence, it will be granted. And in this I may command my Hands, Damelon and the others. My Hafts also may heed me. My word will not still every voice. Yet I will do all that can be done, since you desire it so."

Linden stared at him until she was sure that she could believe him. Then she sagged. Thank G.o.d-she thought wanly. Thank G.o.d for men who kept their promises. If she had been equally confident of Covenant's word, she would not have felt fretted with dread.

"I might inquire, my lady," Berek continued after a moment. "what harm resides in the tale of your deeds. But I will not. My silence on that score is implicit in the boon you seek.