The Giants let the riders go without a word. Linden suspected that they did not wish to acknowledge that they might never see their companions again. But Narunal whinnied a farewell. As it carried across the uneven ground under the ashen sky, his cry sounded as formal as a fanfare: a call to battle, or a proclamation of homage.

Leaning low over Hyn’s neck, and clutching the Staff of Law across her thighs, Linden prayed that she was not making a fatal mistake.

Chapter 9. - Great Need

9.

Great Need

From the rumpled terrain south of the pool, the Ranyhyn pounded onto a baked flatland as hard as the surface of an anvil. In spite of the previous day’s rain, their hooves raised bleached dust as fine as ash. When Linden glanced behind her, she saw a pale plume trailing after her like a pennon.

The speed of the horses was wind in her face, growing warmer as the morning advanced. The air parched her throat, dried her eyes. She thought that she tasted death on her tongue; but if she did, the scent was ancient beyond reckoning. Uncounted centuries ago, living things by the scores or hundreds of thousands had perished in bloodshed: human and inhuman, sentient and bestial, monsters whose forms were no longer remembered even by the Haruchai. Like every shape and kind of vegetation that had once flourished here, they were the forgotten detritus of Lord Foul’s wars. Ghosts so long dead that they had lost all substance lingered, mourning mutely. Nothing remained to bespeak their desires and wounds, their fears and furies, except a vague tang pounded up from the iron dirt by the strides of the Ranyhyn.

Without her health-sense, Linden might have thought that the Ranyhyn were giving their utmost. But the smooth flow of Hyn’s muscles under her legs assured her that the mare had strength and stamina in reserve. At need, the horses could do more.

Stave looked fluid and relaxed, more like an expression of Hynyn’s swiftness than a burden. In contrast, Jeremiah rode characteristically slack, slumped, as unmoved as a sack of grain by Khelen’s fleet pace. Linden had not seen him blink since his rescue. Yet his eyes were unharmed, preserved by some implication of the Earthpower that he had received from Anele.

For a portion of the morning, the Ranyhyn headed somewhat east of south across the beaten plain. Before noon, however, Stave pointed out the promontory of the Colossus in the distant west. Over the drumming of hooves, he informed Linden that beyond the promontory Landsdrop curved southward. There the River Landrider fell in a heavy cascade to become the Ruinwash.