One Tree (40 page)

A moment later, another chime sounded. Immediately the light grew brighter, as if even the sun had been called to attend the
gaddhi
’s arrival. The
hustin
snapped into still greater rigidity, raising their spears in salute. For an instant, no one appeared. Then several figures came out of the shadow of the Auspice as if they had been rendered material by the intensity of the illumination.

A man led the way up onto the plinth. To each of his arms a woman clung, at once deferential and possessive. Behind them came six more
women. And at the rear of the party walked Kasreyn of the Gyre, with his son on his back.

Every courtier dropped to one knee and bowed deeply.

The Caitiffin also made a profound obeisance, though he remained standing. In a careful whisper, he breathed, “The
gaddhi
Rant Absolain. With him are his Favored, the Lady Alif and the Lady Benj. Also others who have recently been, or perhaps will be, Favored. And the
gaddhi
’s Kemper, whom you know.”

Linden stared at the
gaddhi
. In spite of the opulence around him, he was plainly arrayed in a short satin tunic, as if he wished to suggest that he was unmoved by his own riches. But he had chosen a tunic which displayed his form proudly; and his movements hinted at narcissism and petulance. He accepted the adoring gazes of his women smugly. Linden saw that his hair and face had been treated with oils and paints to conceal his years behind an aspect of youthful virility.

He did not look like a sovereign.

The women with him—both the Favored and the others—were all pretty, would have been lovely if their expressions of adoration had not been so mindless. And they were attired as odalisques. Their scant and transparent raiment was a candid appeal to desire: their perfumes, coifs, movements spoke of nothing except bedworthiness. They had found their own answer to the trepidation which beset the Chatelaine, and meant to pursue it with every allure at their command.

Smirking intimately, the
gaddhi
left his Favored on the plinth with Kasreyn and ascended to his seat. There he was an effective figure. The design of the throne made him appear genuinely regal and commanding. But no artifice could conceal the self-satisfaction in his eyes. His gaze was that of a spoiled child—surquedry unjustified by any achievement, any true power.

For a long moment, he sat looking out over the obeisance of his Chatelaine, enjoying the way so many men and women humbled themselves before him. Perhaps the brightness dazzled him; he seemed unaware that Linden and her companions were still on their feet. But gradually he leaned forward to peer through the light; and vexation creased his face, betraying the lines which oil and paint had concealed.

“Kemper!” he snapped irritably. “Who are these mad folk who do not take to their knees before Rant Absolain,
gaddhi
of
Bhrathairealm
and the Great Desert?”

“O
gaddhi
.” Kasreyn’s reply was practiced—and faintly sardonic. “They are the Giants and voyagers of whom we spoke just now. Though they are ignorant of the greeting which should properly be accorded the
gaddhi
Rant Absolain, they have come to accept the welcome which you have so graciously proffered them, and to express their profound thanks, for you have redeemed them from severe distress.”

As he delivered this speech, his eyes were fixed purposefully on the company.

Honninscrave responded promptly. Moving like a man in a charade, he dropped to one knee. “O
gaddhi
,” he said clearly, “your Kemper speaks good sooth. We have come in glad thanks for your most hospitable and needful welcome. Forgive us that we are ill-schooled in the homage which is your due. We are a rude folk and have little acquaintance with such regality.”

At the same time, Rire Grist made a covert gesture to the rest of the company, urging them to follow Honninscrave’s example.

The First growled softly in her throat; but she acknowledged the necessity of the masque by lowering herself to one knee. Her shoulders
were rigid with the knowledge that the company was surrounded by at least three hundred Guards.

Linden and Seadreamer also bowed. Her breathing was cramped with anxiety. She could think of no appeal or power which would induce the
Haruchai
, Vain, or Findail to make obeisance. And Covenant was altogether deaf to the need for this imitation of respect.

But the
gaddhi
did not press the issue. Instead he muttered an impatient phrase in the brackish language of the
Bhrathair
; and at once the Chatelaine rose to their feet. The company did the same, the First stiffly, Honninscrave diffidently. Linden felt a moment of relief.

The
gaddhi
was now looking down at Kasreyn. His expression had fallen into a pout. “Kemper, why was I called from the pleasure of my Favored for this foolish assemblage?” He spoke the common tongue of the Harbor in an oddly defiant tone, like a rebellious adolescent.

But the Kemper’s reply was unruffled. “O
gaddhi
, it is to your great honor that you have ever been munificent to those whom you deign to welcome. Therefore is your name grateful to all who dwell within the blessing of your demesne, and the Chatelaine are exalted by the mere thought of attendance upon you. Now it is seemly that these your new guests should come before you to utter their thanks. And it is also seemly”—his voice sharpened slightly—“that you should grant them your hearing. They have come in need, with requests in their hearts which only such, a monarch as the
gaddhi
of
Bhrathairealm
may hope to satisfy, and the answer which you accord them will carry the fame of your grace across all the wide Earth.”

At this, Rant Absolain settled back in his seat with an air of cunning. His mood was plain to Linden’s senses. He was engaged in a contest of wills with his Kemper. Glancing out over the company, he smiled nastily. “It is as my servant”—he stressed that word—“the Kemper has said. I delight to give pleasure to my guests. What do you desire of me?”

The company hesitated. Honninscrave looked to the First for guidance. Linden tightened her grip on herself. Here any request might prove dangerous by playing into the hands of either the
gaddhi
or his Kemper.

But after a momentary pause the First said, “O
gaddhi
, the needs of our Giantship are even now being met at your decree. For this our thanks are unbounded.” Her tone held no more gratitude than an iron bar. “But your graciousness inspires me to ask a further boon. You see that my scabbard is empty.” With one hand, she held the sheath before her. “The
Bhrathair
are renowned for their weaponwork. And I have seen many apt blades in the Tier of Riches. O
gaddhi
, grant me the gift of a broadsword to replace that which I have lost.”

Rant Absolain’s face broke into a grin of satisfaction. He sounded triumphant and petty as he replied, “No.”

A frown interrupted Kasreyn’s confidence. He opened his mouth to speak; but the
gaddhi
was already saying, “Though you are my guest, I must refuse. You know not what you ask. I am the
gaddhi
of
Bhrathairealm—
the servant of my people. That which you have seen belongs not to me but to the
Bhrathair
. I hold it but in stewardship. For myself I possess nothing, and thus I have no sword or other riches in my gift.” He uttered the words vindictively, but his malice was directed at the Kemper rather than the First, as if he had found unassailable grounds on which he could spite Kasreyn. “If you require a sword,” he went on, “you may purchase it in
Bhrathairain
.” He made an effort to preserve his air of victory by not looking at Kasreyn; but he was frightened by his own bravado and unable to resist.

The Kemper met that glance with a shrug of dismissal which made Rant Absolain wince. But the First did not let the matter end. “O
gaddhi
,” she said through her teeth, “I have no means to make such a purchase.”

The
gaddhi
reacted in sudden fury. “Then do without!” His fists pounded the arms of his seat. “Am I to blame for your penury? Insult me further, and I will send you to the Sandgorgons!”

Kasreyn shot a look toward the Caitiffin. Immediately Rire Grist stepped forward, made a low bow. “O
gaddhi
,” he said, “they are strangers, unfamiliar with the selfless nature of your stewardship. Permit me to implore pardon for them. I am certain that no offense was intended.”

Rant Absolain sagged. He seemed incapable of sustaining any emotion which might contradict the Kemper’s will. “Oh, assuredly,” he muttered. “I take no offense.” Clearly he meant the opposite. “I am above all offense.” To himself, he began growling words like curses in the tongue of the
Bhrathair
.

“That is well known,” said the Kemper evenly, “and it adds much to your honor. Yet it will sadden you to turn guests away with no sign of your welcome in their hands. Perhaps another request lies within their hearts—a supplication which may be granted without aspersion to your stewardship.”

With a nameless pang, Linden saw Kasreyn take hold of his golden ocular, raise it to his left eye. A stiffening like a ghost of fear ran through the Chatelaine. Rant Absolain squeezed farther back in his throne. But the Kemper’s gesture appeared so natural and inevitable that she could not take her eyes away from it, could not defend herself.

Then he met her gaze through his ocular; and without warning all her turmoil became calm. She realized at once that she had no cause for anxiety, no reason to distrust him. His left eye held the answer to everything. Her last, most visceral protests faded into relief as the
geas
of his will came over her, lifted the words he wanted out of her.

“O
gaddhi
, I ask if there is aught your Kemper can do to heal my comrade, Thomas Covenant.”

Rant Absolain showed an immediate relief that the eyepiece had not been turned toward him. In an over-loud voice, he said, “I am certain Kasreyn will do all in his power to aid you.” Sweat made streaks through the paint on his face.

“O
gaddhi
, I serve you gladly.” The Kemper’s gaze left Linden; but its effect lingered in her, leaving her relaxed despite the raw hunger with which he regarded Covenant. Honninscrave and the First stared at her with alarm. Seadreamer’s shoulders knotted. But the calm of the Kemper’s
geas
remained on her.

“Come, Thomas Covenant,” said Kasreyn sharply. “We will attempt your succor at once.”

Brinn looked a question at Linden. She nodded; she could do nothing but nod. She was deeply relieved that the Kemper had lifted the burden of Covenant’s need from her.

The
Haruchai
frowned slightly. His eyes asked the same question of the Giants; but they did not contradict Linden. They were unable to perceive what had happened to her.

With a shrug, Brinn walked Covenant toward the Kemper.

Kasreyn studied the Unbeliever avidly. A faint shiver touched his voice as he said, “I thank you, Brinn of the
Haruchai
. You may leave him safely in my hands.”

Brinn did not hesitate. “No.”

His refusal drew a gasp from the Chatelaine, instantly stifled. Rant Absolain leaned forward in his seat, bit his lip as if he could not believe his senses.

The Giants rocked subtly onto the balls of their feet.

Explicitly as if he were supporting Brinn, Covenant said, “Don’t touch me.”

Kasreyn held his golden circle to his eye, said in a tone of tacit command, “Brinn of the
Haruchai
, my arts admit of no spectation. If I am to aid this man, I must have him alone.”

Brinn met that ocular gaze without blinking. His words were as resolute as granite. “Nevertheless he is in my care. I will not part from him.”

The Kemper went pale with fury and amazement. Clearly he was not accustomed to defiance—or to the failure of his
geas
.

A vague uneasiness grew in Linden. Distress began to rise against the calm, nagging her toward self-awareness. A shout struggled to form itself in her throat.

Kasreyn turned back to her, fixed her with his will again. “Linden Avery, command this
Haruchai
to give Thomas Covenant into my care.”

At once, the calm returned. It said through her mouth, “Brinn, I command you to give Thomas Covenant into his care.”

Brinn looked at her. His eyes glinted with memories of
Elemesnedene
. Flatly he iterated, “I will not.”

The Chatelaine recoiled. Their group frayed as some of them retreated toward the stairs. The
gaddhi
’s women crouched on the plinth and whimpered for his protection.

Kasreyn gave them cause for fear. Rage flushed his mien. His fists jerked threats through the air. “Fool!” he spat at Brinn. “If you do not instantly depart, I will command the Guards to slay you where you stand!”

Before the words had left his mouth, the Giants, Hergrom, and Ceer were moving toward Covenant.

But Brinn did not need their aid. Too swiftly for Kasreyn to counter, he put himself between Covenant and the Kemper. His reply cut through Kasreyn’s ire. “Should you give such a command, you will die ere the first spear is raised.”

Rant Absolain stared in apoplectic horror. The rest of the Chatelaine began scuttling from the hall.

Brinn did not waver. Three Giants and two
Haruchai
came to his support. The six of them appeared more absolutely ready for battle than all the
hustin
.

For a moment, Kasreyn’s face flamed as if he were prepared to take any risk in order to gain possession of Covenant. But then the wisdom or cunning which had guided him to his present power and longevity came back to him. He recanted a step, summoned his self-command.

“You miscomprehend me.” His voice shook, but grew steadier at every word. “I have not merited your mistrust. This hostility ill becomes you—ill becomes any man or woman who has been granted the
gaddhi
’s welcome. Yet I accede to it. My desire remains to work you well. For the present, I will crave your pardon for my unseemly ire. Mayhap when you have tasted the
gaddhi
’s goodwill you will learn also to taste the cleanliness of my intent. If you then wish it, I will offer my aid again.”