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h。 And he was moved by what Bannor said； despite the Bloodguard's flat tone。
But Elena had learned enough to pursue his reasoning。 Her voice was both quiet and authoritative as she said； 〃First Mark…Bannor…the Bloodguard must make a decision now。 Hear me。 I am Elena； High Lord by the choice of the Council。 This is a question of loyalty。 Will you serve dead Kevin's wisdom； or will you serve me？ In the past； you have served two causes； the dead and the living。 You have served both well。 But here you must choose。 In the Land's need； there
is no longer any middle way。 There will be blood and blame upon us all if we allow Corruption to prevail。〃
Slowly； Bannor turned toward the First Mark。 They regarded each other in silence for a long moment。 Then Morin faced the High Lord with a magisterial look in his eyes。 〃High Lord；〃 he said； 〃we do not know the name of the Seventh Ward's power。 We have heard many names…some false； others dead。 But one name we have heard only uttered in whispers by High Lord Kevin and his Council。
〃'That name is the Power of mand。〃
When Amok heard the name； he nodded until his hair seemed to dance with glee。
TWENTY…FOUR： Descent to Earthroot
COVENANT found that he was sweating。 Despite the chill breeze； his forehead was damp。 Moisture itched in his beard； and cold perspiration ran down his spine。 Morin's submission left him feeling curiously depleted。 For a moment； he looked up at the sun as if to ask it why it did not warm him。
Melenkurion's spires reached into the morning like fingers straining to bracket the sun。 Their glaciered tips caught the light brilliantly； the reflected dazzle made Covenant's eyes water。 The massive stone of the peaks intimidated him。 Blinking rapidly； he forced his gaze back to High Lord Elena。
Through his sun blindness； he seemed to see only her brown； blond…raddled hair。 The lighter tresses gleamed as if they were burnished。 But as he blinked； his vision cleared。 He made out her face。 She was vivid with smiles。 A new thrill of life lit her countenance with recovered hope。 She did not speak； but her lips formed the one word； Beloved。
Covenant felt that he had betrayed her。
Morin and Bannor stood almost shoulder to shoulder behind her。 Nothing in the alert poise of their balance； or in the relaxed readiness of their arms； expressed any surprise or regret at the decision they had made。 Yet Covenant knew they had fundamentally alerted the character of their service to the Lords。 He had exacted that from them。 He wished he could apologize in some way which would have meaning to the Bloodguard。
But there was nothing he could say to them。 They were too absolute to accept any gesture of contrition。 Their solitary munion with their Vow left him no way in which to approach them。 No apology was sufficient。
〃The Power of mand；〃 he breathed weakly。 〃Have mercy on me。〃 Unable to bear the sight of Elena's relieved； triumphant； grateful smile； or of Amok's grin； he turned away and walked wearily out across the plateau toward Rivenrock's edge as if his feet were trying to learn again the solidity of the stone。
He moved parallel to the cleft； but stayed a safe distance from it。 As soon as he could see a substantial swath of Garroting Deep beyond the cliff edge； he stopped。 There he remained； hoping both that Elena would e to him and that she would not。
The prevailing breeze from the Forest blew into his face； and for the first time in many days he was able to distinguish the tang of the season。 He found that the autumn of the Land had turned its corner； traveled its annual round from joy to sorrow。 The air no longer gleamed with abundance and fruition； with ripeness either glad or grim。 Now the breeze tasted like the leading edge of winter…a sere augury； promising long nights and barrenness and cold。
As he smelled the air； he realized that Garroting Deep had no fall color change。 He could make out stark black stands where the trees had already lost their leaves； but no blazonry palliated the Deep's darkness。 It went without transition or adornment from summer to winter。 He sensed the reason with his eyes
and nose； the old Forest's angry clench of consciousness consumed all its strength and will； left it with neither the ability nor the desire to spend itself in mere displays of splendor。
Then he heard footsteps behind him； and recognized Elena's tread。 To forestall whatever she wanted to tell him or ask him； he said； 〃You know； where I e from； the people who did this to a forest would be called pioneers…a very special breed of heroes； since instead of killing other human beings they concentrate on slaughtering nature itself。 In fact； I know people who claim that all our social disfort es from the mere fact that we've got nothing left to pioneer。〃
〃Beloved；〃 she said softly； 〃you are not well。 What is amiss？〃
〃Amiss？〃 He could not bring himself to look at her。 His mouth was full of his bargain； and he had to swallow hard before he could say； 〃Don't mind me。 I'm like that Forest down there。 Sometimes I can't seem to help remembering。〃
In the silence； he sensed how little this answer satisfied her。 She cared about him； wanted to understand him。 But the rebirth of hope had restored the urgency of her duty。 He knew that she could not spare the time to explore him now。 He nodded morosely as she said； 〃I must go…the Land's need bears heavily upon me。〃 Then she added； 〃Will you remain here …await my return？〃
At last； he found the strength to turn and face her。 He met the solemn set of her face； the displaced otherness of her gaze； and said gruffly； 〃Stay behind？ And miss risking my neck again？ Nonsense。 I haven't had a chance like this since I was in Mount Thunder。〃
His sarcasm was sharper than he had intended； but she seemed to accept it。 She smiled； touched him lightly on the arm with the fingers of one hand。 〃e； then； beloved；〃 she said。 〃The Bloodguard are prepared。 We must depart before Amok places other obstacles in our way。〃
He tried to smile in return； but the uncertain muscles of his face treated the attempt like a grimace。 Muttering at his failure； he went with her back to
ward the Bloodguard and Amok。 As they walked； he watched her sidelong； assessed her covertly。 The strain of the past three days had been pushed into the background； her forthright stride and resolute features expressed new purpose； strength。 The resurgence of hope enabled her to discount mere exhaustion。 But her knuckles were tense as she gripped the Staff； and her head was thrust forward at a hungry angle。 She made Covenant's bargain lie unquiet in him； as if he were an inadequate and unbinding grave。
In his mind； he could still feel Rivenrock heaving。 He needed steadier footing； nothing would save him if he could not keep his balance。
Vaguely； he observed that the First Mark and Bannor were indeed ready to travel。 They had bound all the supplies into bundles； and had tied these to their backs with clingor thongs。 And Amok sparkled with eagerness； visions seemed to caper in his gay hair。 The three of them gave Covenant an acute pang of unpreparedness。 He did not feel equal to whatever lay ahead of the High Lord's party。 A pulse of anxiety beg