Free The 1st Chronicles of Thomas Covenant #2: The Illearth War by Stephen R. Donaldson

was done. “Despite was the bane of men. It came with them into the Land from the cold anguish of the north, and from the hungry kingdom of the south. No, the Colossus of the Fall forbade another foe-three tree- and soil-hating brothers who were old in the Spoiled Plains before Lord Foul first cast his shadow there. They were triplets, the spawn of one birth from the womb of their long forgotten mother, and their names were samadhi, moksha, and turiya. They hated the Earth and all its growing things, just as Lord Foul hates all life and love. When the Colossus eased its interdict, they came to the Upper Land, and in their lust for ravage and dismay fell swiftly under the mastery of the Despiser. From that time, they have been his highest servants. They have performed treachery for him when he could not show his hand, and have fought for him when he would not lead his armies.
    “It was samadhi, now named Sheol, who mastered the heart of Berek’s liege-Sheol who slaughtered the champions of the Land, and drove Berek, halfunhanded and alone, to his extremity on the slopes of Mount Thunder. It was turiya and moksha, Herem and Jehannum, who lured the powerful and austere Demondim to their breeding dens, and to the spawning of the ur-viles. Now the three are united with Lord Foul again-united, and clamoring for the decimation of the Land. But alas-alas for my ignorance and weakness. I cannot foresee what they will do. I can hear their voices, loud with lust for the ripping of trees and the scorching of soil, but their intent eludes me. The Land is in such peril because its servants are weak.”
    The rough eloquence of Mhoram’s tone carried Covenant along, and under its spell the brilliant sunlight seemed to darken in his eyes. Grimly, unwillingly, he caught a sense of the looming and cruel ill which crept up behind the Land’s spirit, defying its inadequate defenders. And when he looked at himself, he saw nothing but omens of futility. Other people who s had protested their weakness to him had suffered terribly at the hands of his own irreducible and immedicable impotence. Harshly-more harshly than he intended-he asked, “Why?”
    Mhoram turned away from his private visions, and cocked an inquiring eyebrow at Covenant.
    “Why are you weak?”
    The Lord met this with a wry smile. “Ah, my friend -I had forgotten that you ask such questions. You lead me into long speeches. I think that if I could reply to you briefly, I would not need you so.” But Covenant did not relent, and after a pause Mhoram said, “Well, I cannot refuse to answer. But come-there is food waiting. Let us eat. Then I will make what answer I can.”’
    Covenant refused. Despite his hunger, he was unwilling to make any more concessions to the Land until he knew better where he stood.
    Mhoram considered him for a moment, then replied in a measured tone, “1f what you say is true-if Land and Earth and all are nothing more than a dream, a threat of madness for you-then still you must eat. Hunger is hunger, and need is need. How else-7”
    “No.” Covenant dismissed the idea heavily.
    At that, the gold flecks in Mhoram’s eyes flared, as ‘ if they reflected the passion of the sun, and he said levelly, “Then answer that question yourself. Answer it, and save us. If we are helpless and unfriended, it is your doing. Only you can penetrate the mysteries which surround us.”
    “No,” Covenant repeated. He recognized what Mhoram was saying, and refused to tolerate it. No, he responded to the heat of Mhoram’s look. That’s too much like blaming me for being a leper. It’s not my fault. “You go too far.”
    “Ur-Lord,” Mhoram replied, articulating each word distinctly, “there is peril upon the Land. Distance will not restrain me.”
    “That isn’t what I meant. I meant you’re taking what I said too far. I’m not the-the shaper. I’m not in control. I’m just another victim. All I know is what you tell me.
    “What I want to know is why