The Illearth War (The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant the Unbeliever, #2)

by Stephen R. Donaldson

In the light of the streetlamp,

In a pure, frail voice that would have been good for supplication, she sang a set of love ballads defiantly, as if they were protest songs.

Yet without mastery of the Two we cannot gain the rest, for Kevin, wise to the hazards of unready knowledge and power, hid his Wards each in its turn, so that the comprehension of one would lead to the discovery of the next.

That is Lord Foul’s way in all things—to force his foes to become that which they most hate, and to destroy that which they most love.

we learned that the Ravers were still aboard—that like their master they had not been undone by the Ritual of Desecration, which Kevin Landwaster wreaked in his despair. Some knowledge of these beings had come to us through the old legends, the Lore of the First Ward, and the teachings of the Giants. We knew that they were named Sheol, Jehannum, and Herem, and that they lived without bodies, feeding upon the souls of others. When the Despiser was powerful enough to give them strength, they enslaved creatures or people by entering into their bodies, subduing their wills, and using the captured flesh to enact their master’s purposes.

“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, half-unhanded 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.

The stonelore of the rhadhamaerl, and the woodlore of the lillianrill, have been preserved from past ages by the people of Stonedown and Woodhelven.

Gravelingases of the rhadhamaerl, and Hirebrands of the lillianrill. It is the work of Hirebrand and Gravelingas to make the lives of the villages bounteous—warm in winter and plentiful in summer, true to the song of the Land.

Yet the Lord’s influence or example strengthened Covenant. At last, he found the courage to ask his most important question. “Then why am I here? Why did he let you summon me? Doesn’t he want the white gold?” Without raising his head, Mhoram said, “Lord Foul is not yet ready to defeat you. The wild magic still surpasses him. Instead, he strives to make you destroy yourself. I have seen it.”

When inadequate men assumed huge burdens, the outcome could only serve Despite.

“He said that I dream the truth. He said that I am very fortunate. He said that people with such dreams are the true enemies of Despite—it isn’t Law, the Staff of Law wasn’t made to fight Foul with—no, it’s wild magic and dreams that are the opposite of Despite.”

“I tell you simply: it is Lord Foul’s purpose to master the wild magic—‘the anchor of the arch of life that spans and masters Time’—and with it bring Time to an end, so that he may escape his bondage and carry his lust throughout the universe. To do this, he must defeat you, must wrest the white gold from you. Then all the Land and all the Earth will surely fall.”

He is the Creator, the maker of the Earth. How can he stand careless and see his making destroyed? Yet he cannot reach his hand to help us here. That is the law of Time. If he breaks the arch to touch the Land with his power, Time will end, and the Despiser will be free. So he must resist Lord Foul elsewhere. With you, my friend.”

“They made excuses for you. They told me that not all crimes are committed by evil people. They told me that sometimes a good man does ill because of the pain in his soul. Like Trell. And Mhoram told me that the blade of your Unbelief cuts both ways.”

Troy had called Thomas Covenant’s Unbelief a bluff. But Covenant was not playing a mental game. He was a leper. He was fighting for his life. Unbelief was his only defense against the Land, his only way to control the intensity, the potential suicide, of his response to the Land.

When Lord Mhoram had asked him to go with the Warward, he had agreed because he completely lacked alternatives. He urgently needed to keep moving, keep searching for an escape. No similar reasoning vindicated him when the High Lord had asked him to accompany her. He felt that he was riding away from the crux of his dilemma, the battle against Lord Foul—evading it like a coward. But in the moment of decision he had not even considered refusing.

“Thomas Covenant, I believe that there is immeasurable strength in the consummation of despair—strength beyond all conceiving by an unholocausted soul. I believe that if High Lord Kevin could speak from beyond the grave, he would utter a word which would unmarrow the very bones of Lord Foul’s Despite.”