At this； Covenant's face twisted again。 But he had nothing more to say； even the release of assent was denied him。 However； Bannor seemed to hear something different in the Lord's tone。 As if to correct an
injustice； he went to Mhoram。 As he moved； he took from his pack Covenant's marrowmeld sculpture。
He handed the work to Mhoram。 〃The High Lord gave it to him as a gift。〃
Lord Mhoram gripped the bone sculpture tightly； and his eyes shone with sudden prehension。 He understood the bond between Elena and the Ranyhyn； he understood what the giving of such a gift to Covenant meant。 A gasp of weeping swept over his face。 But when it passed； it left his self…mastery intact。 His crooked lips took on their old humane angle。 When he turned to Covenant again； he said gently； 〃It is a precious gift。〃
Bannor's unexpected support； and Mhoram's gesture of conciliation； touched Covenant。 But he had no strength to spare for either of them。 His gaze was fixed on Hile Troy。
The Warmark winced eyelessly under repeated blows of realization； and within him a gale brewed。 He seemed to see Elena in his mind…remember her； taste her beauty； savor all the power of sight which she had taught him。 He seemed to see her useless； solitary end。 〃Lost？〃 he panted as his fury grew。 〃Lost？ Alone？〃
All at once； he erupted。 With a livid howl； he raged at Covenant； 〃Do you call that love？！ Leper！ Unbeliever！〃…he spat the words as if they were the most damning curses he knew…〃This is all just a game for you！ Mental tricks。 Excuses。 You're a leper！ A moral leper！ You're too selfish to love anyone but yourself。 You have the power for everything； and you won't use it。 You just turned your back on her when she needed you。 You…despicable…leper！ Leper！〃 He shouted with such force that the muscles of his neck corded。 The veins in his temples bulged and throbbed as if he were about to burst with execration。
Covenant felt the truth of the accusation。 His bargain exposed him to such charges； and Troy hit the heart of his vulnerability as if some prophetic insight guided his blindness。 Covenant's right hand twitched in a futile fending motion。 But his left clung to his chest as if to localize his shame in that one place。
When Troy paused to gather himself for another assault； Covenant said weakly； 〃Unbelief has got nothing to do with it。 She was my daughter。〃
〃What？！〃
〃My daughter。〃 Covenant pronounced it like an indictment。 〃I raped Trell's child。 Elena was his granddaughter。〃
〃Your daughter。〃 Troy was too stunned to shout。 Implications like glimpses of depravity rocked him。 He groaned as if Covenant's crimes were so multitudinous that he could not hold them all in his mind at one time。
Mhoram spoke to him carefully。 〃My friend…this is the knowledge which I have withheld from you。 The withholding gave you unintended pain。 Please pardon me。 The Council feared that this knowledge would cause you to abominate the Unbeliever。〃
〃Damn right；〃 Troy panted。 〃Damn right。〃
Suddenly； his accumulated passion burst into action。 Guided by a sure instinct； he reached out swiftly； snatched away Lord Mhoram's staff。 He spun once to gain momentum； and leveled a crushing blow with the staff at Covenant's head。
The unexpectedness of the attack surpassed even Bannor。 But he recovered； sprang after Troy； jolted him enough to unbalance his swing。 As a result； only the heel of the staff clipped Covenant's forehead。 But that sent him tumbling backward down the hill。
He caught himself； got … to his knees。 When he raised a hand to his head； he found that he was bleeding profusely from a wound in the center of his forehead。
He could feel old hate and death seeping into him from the blasted earth。 Blood ran down his cheeks like spittle。
The next moment； Mhoram and Quaan reached Troy。 Mhoram tore the staff from his grasp； Quaan pinned his arms。 〃Fool）〃 the Lord rasped。 〃You forget the Oath of Peace。 Loyalty is duel〃
Troy struggled against Quaan。 Rage and anguish mottled his face。 〃I haven't sworn any Oath！ Let go of me！〃
〃You are the Warmark of the Warward；〃 said Mhoram dangerously。 〃The Oath of Peace binds。 But if you cannot refrain from murder for that reason； refrain because the Despiser's army is destroyed。 Fleshharrower hangs dead on the gibbet of Gallows Howe。〃
〃Do you call that victory？ We've been decimated） What good is a victory that costs so much？〃 Troy's fury rose like weeping。 〃It would have been better if we'd lost！ Then it wouldn't have been such a waste！〃 The passion in his throat made him gasp for air as if he were asphyxiating on the reek of Covenant's perfidy。
But Lord Mhoram was unmoved。 He caught Troy by the breastplate and shook him。 〃Then refrain because the High Lord is not dead。〃
〃Not？〃 Troy panted。 〃Not dead？〃
〃We hear her battle even now。 Do you not prehend the sound？ Even as we listen； she struggles against dead Kevin。 The Staff sustains her…and he has not the might she believed of him。 But the proof of her endurance is here； in the Unbeliever himself。 She is his summoner…he will remain in the Land until her death。 So it was when Drool Rockworm first called him。
〃She's still fighting？〃 Troy gaped at the idea。 He seemed to regard it as the conclusive evidence of Covenant's treachery。 But then he turned to Mhoram and cried； 〃We've got to help her！〃
At this； Mhoram flinched。 A wave of pain broke through his face。 In a constricted voice； he asked； 〃How？〃
〃How？〃 Troy fumed。 〃Don't ask me how。 You're the Lord！ We have got to help her！〃
The Lord pulled himself erect； clenched his staff for support。 〃We are fifty leagues from Rivenrock。 A night and a day would pass before any Ranyhyn could carry us to the foot of the cliff。 Then Bannor would be required to guide us into the mountain in search of the battle。 Perhaps the effects of the battle have destroyed all approaches to it。 Perhaps they would destroy us。 Yet if we gained the High Lord； we
would have nothing to offer her but the frail strength of two Lords。 With the Staff of Law； she far surpasses us。 How can we help her？〃
They faced each other…as if they met mind to mind across Troy's eyelessness。 Mhoram did not falter under the Warmark's rage。 The hurt of his inadequacy showed clearly in his face； but he neither denied nor cursed at his weakness。
Though Troy trembled with urgency； he had to take his demand elsewhere。
He swung toward Covenant。 〃You！〃 he shouted stridently。 〃If you're too much of a coward to do anything yourself； at least give me a chance to help her！ Give me your ring！…I can feel it from here。 Give it to me！ e on； you bastard。 It's her only chance。〃
Kneeling on the dead； sabulous dirt of the Howe； Covenant looked up at Troy through the blood in his eyes。 For a time； he was unable to answer。 Troy's adjuration seemed to drop on him like a rockfall。 It swept away his last defense； and left bare his final shame。 He should have been able to save Elena。 He had the power； it pulsed like a wound on his wedding finger。 But he had not used it。 Ignorance was no excuse。 His claim of futility no longer covered him。
The barren atmosphere of the Howe ached in his chest as he climbed to his feet。 Though he could hardly see where he was going； he started up the hill。 The exertion made his head hurt as if there were splinters of bone jabbing his brain； and his heart quivered。 A silent voice cried out to him； No！ No！ But he ignored it。 With his halfhand； he fumbled at the ring。 It seemed to resist him…he had trouble gripping it but as he reached Troy he finally tore it from his finger。 In a wet voice； as if his mouth were full of blood； he said； 〃Take it。 Save her。〃 He put the band in Troy's hand。
The touch of the pulsing ring exalted Troy。 Clenching his fingers around it； he turned； ran fearlessly to the hillcrest。 He searched quickly with his ears； located the direction of Rivenrock； faced the battle。 Like a titan； he swung his fist at the heavens； power
flamed from the white gold as if it were answering his passion。 In a livid voice； he cried； 〃Elena！ Elena！〃
Then the tall white singer was at his side。 The music took on a forbidding note that spread involuntary stasis like a mist over the hilltop。 Everyone froze； lost the po