There the desiccated browns of the surrounding terrain made the white spine of gypsum appear unnaturally stark, almost pure; as distinct as chalk. Along the ridge, bits of quartz and mica caught the sun and flashed like implied omens. No doubt dust would have billowed from the strides of the Swordmainnir in any breeze; but the air was as still as a tombstone. Arid heat and haze rather than dust gave the sky a tan hue.

Immediately in front of the company, the handiwork of the Giants dominated the east, a long oval mound towering over the ridge from slope to slope. With sweat and strength and love, Rime Coldspray and her comrades had piled rocks the size of kresh and Cavewights and even mustangs to cover Liand’s death with homage. A few of the boulders were as big as huts. In an abstract way, Linden had understood that the Giants were mighty, and that they had labored long. Nevertheless she was taken aback by the scale of the cairn. Liand had been given a barrow suitable for a king.

It seemed more final than his ruined corpse.

Oh, Liand. Through her reluctance and shame, Linden felt her eyes burn with unattainable tears. Nothing could comfort her for the Stonedownor’s passing. Still she felt that the Giants had done him justice.

“A small gesture only,” explained Coldspray as if she were embarrassed. “Being Giants, we had it in our hearts to dig away this stretch of the ridge, and that beyond as well, thus forming a pediment for the cairn. But time pressed against us, and we abandoned our first intent.”

“Nonetheless,” Mahrtiir stated after a moment, “what you have done is well done. Be assured that it is well done.”

Instead of speaking, Stave bowed in the manner of the Haruchai, first to the Ironhand, then to the high mound of stone.

Still Covenant did not react. Creviced memories held him.

On a hilltop some distance to the north, Clyme stood with his back to the company. In the south, Branl also faced away. The two Humbled seemed to disregard their companions; but Linden understood their vigilance. They had not forgotten their many enemies. Joan’s attack during the night had demonstrated that even here, tens or scores of leagues from more obvious dangers, the company was not safe. Clyme and Branl did not assume that the Land’s last defenders would be safe anywhere.

“If it is well done,” Rime Coldspray said finally, “we are content. I name our grief and honor complete. Now let us consider our course. We cannot remain as we are while the Worm threatens to unmake all that we have known and loved and needed.”

Her words may have been addressed to Linden; but Linden stood with her head bowed and did not respond. What could she have said?