“That the crime of High Lord Elena’s conception was costly to her,” answered Branl, “cannot be denied. Yet the ur-Lord may not be held accountable for the use which she made of her life. The fault of her chosen deeds cannot be excused by the circumstance of her birth and parentage. She elected to summon Kevin Landwaster from his rightful place among the Dead. The ur-Lord did not. Her subsequent enslavement by Corruption ensued from her own folly, not from any choice or desire of the Unbeliever’s.

“That her spirit has not served Corruption from that time to this was the ur-Lord’s gift to her. Aided by powers invoked by a Forestal from the Colossus of the Fall, he ended her thrall when she was unable to free herself.”

Covenant had not forgotten his physical life. He remembered that he had released Elena by destroying the original Staff of Law. If he had not done so, she would have killed him. But in turn, that act of desperation had facilitated Lord Foul’s return to strength and the horrors of the Sunbane.

Apparently evil could be accomplished by good—or at least necessary—means.

The Manethrall’s jaws worked, chewing possible retorts. Before he decided on a response, however, Covenant told Branl, “No. Mahrtiir is right. Elena doesn’t deserve more torment. We all make choices, and none of us can guess how they’ll turn out. But we have to live with the consequences anyway. I didn’t know what would happen when I asked Anele to speak to the Dead, but that doesn’t make me any less responsible.”

“And did the Dead not choose?” countered Branl. “Did Elena Law-Breaker herself not choose?”

Covenant nodded. “They did. She did. And she paid for it. She’s paying for it right now. But that doesn’t change what I did. I asked for help. My part in this doesn’t go away just because I didn’t choose the kind of help I got.”

As Covenant spoke, Mahrtiir sagged. His anger became an air of recognition and defeat. He remained silent while Branl searched for a weakness in Covenant’s reasoning. But when Branl found none, the Manethrall said unsteadily, “I cry your pardon, Timewarden. I am answered. The judgments of these self-maimed Haruchai do not sway me. But I discern now that I have misdirected my ire.

“In sooth, I have no cause to accuse you. I do so only because the Lost Deep has deprived me of myself. I have learned that I am naught, unfit to serve either the Ringthane or the Ranyhyn. Such knowledge is bitter to me. I do not bear it with grace.”

I know, Covenant thought sadly. Mahrtiir’s pain was only one of many needs for which Covenant had no anodyne.