srdonaldson.thepowerthatpreserves-第115章

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ould　hope　to　stand　against　my　enemy；　hope　to　preserve　the　Earth。〃
　　　　Covenant　heard　sympathy；　respect；　even　gratitude　in　the　voice。　But　he　was　unconvinced。　〃I　wasn't　free。　It　wasn't　my　choice。〃
　　　　〃Ah；　but　you　were…free　of　my　suasion；　my　power；　my　wish　to　make　you　my　tool。　Have　I　not　said　that　the　risk　was　great？　Choiceless；　you　were　given　the　power　of　choice。　I　elected　you　for　the　Land　but　did　not　pel　you　to　serve　my　purpose　in　the　Land。　You　were　free　to　damn　Land　and　Earth　and　Time　and　all；　if　you　chose。　Only　through　such　a　risk　could　I　hope　to　preserve　the　rectitude　of　my　creation。〃
　　　　In　his　darkness；　Covenant　shrugged。　〃I　still　wasn't　free。　That　singer　…who　called　me　Berek。　That　revival。　The　kid　who　got　herself　snakebit。　Maybe　you　left　me　free　in　the　Land；　but　you　didn't　leave　me　alone　in　my　own　life。〃
　　　　〃No；〃　the　voice　responded　softly。　〃I　had　no　hand　in　those　chances。　Had　I　done　anything　at　all　to　shape　you；　you　would　have　been　my　tool…effectless。　Without　freedom；　you　could　not　have　mastered　my　enemy…without　independence…without　the　sovereignty　of　your　own　allegiance。　No；　I　risked　too　much　when　I　spoke　to　you　once。　I　interfered　in　no　other　way。〃
　　　　Covenant　did　not　like　to　think　that　he　had　been　so　pletely　free　to　ruin　the　Land。　He　had　e　so　close！　For　a　while；　he　mused　numbly　to　himself；　measuring　the　Creator's　risk。　Then　he　asked；　〃What　made　you　think　I　wouldn't　just　collapse…wouldn't　give　up　in　despair？〃
　　　　The　voice　replied　promptly。　〃Despair　is　an　emotion　like　any　other。　It　is　the　habit　of　despair　which　damns；　not　the　despair　itself。　You　were　a　man　already　acquainted　with　habit　and　despair…with　the　Law　which　both　saves　and　damns。　Your　knowledge　of　your　illness　made　you　wise。〃
　　　　Wise；　Covenant　murmured　to　himself。　Wisdom。　He　could　not　understand　why　his　witless　heart　went　on　beating。
　　　　〃Further；　you　were　in　your　own　way　a　creator。　You　had　already　tasted　the　way　in　which　a　creator　may　be　impotent　to　heal　his　creation。　It　is　ofttimes　this　impotence　which　teaches　a　creation　to　despair；〃
　　　　〃What　about　the　creator？　Why　doesn't　he　despair？〃
　　　　〃Why　should　he　despair？　If　he　cannot　bear　the　world　he　has　made；　he　can　make　another。　No；　Thomas　Covenant。〃　The　voice　laughed　softly；　sadly。　〃Gods　and　creators　are　too　powerful　and　powerless　for　despair。〃
　　　　Yes；　Covenant　said　with　his　own　sadness。　But　then　he　added　almost　out　of　habit；　It's　not　that　easy。　He　wanted　the　voice　to　go　away；　leave　him　alone　with　his　oblivion。　But　though　it　was　silent；　he　knew　it　had　not　left　him。　He　drifted　along　beside　it　for　a　time；　then　gathered　himself　to　ask；　〃What　do　you　want？〃
　　　　〃Thomas　Covenant〃…the　voice　was　gentle…〃my　unwilling　son；　I　wish　to　give　you　a　gift…a　guerdon　to　speak　my　wordless　gratitude。　Your　world　runs　by　Law；　as　does　mine。　And　by　any　Law　I　am　in　your　debt。　You　have　retrieved　my　Earth　from　the　brink　of　dissolution。　I　could　give　you　precious　gifts　a　dozen　times　over；　and　still　not　call　the　matter　paid。〃
　　　　A　gift？　Covenant　sighed　to　himself。　No。　He　could　not　demean　himself　or　the　Creator　by　asking　for　a　cure　to　leprosy。　He　was　about　to　refuse　the　offer　when　a　sudden　excitement　flashed　across　him。　〃Save　the　Giant；〃　he　said。　〃Save　Foamfollower。〃
　　　　In　a　tone　of　ineffable　rue；　the　voice　answered；　〃No；　Thomas　Covenant…I　cannot。　Have　I　not　told　you　that　I　would　break　the　arch　of　Time　if　I　were　to　put　my　hand　through　it　to　touch　the　Earth？　No　matter　how　great　my　gratitude；　I　can　do　nothing　for　you　in　the　Land　or　upon　that　Earth。　If　I　could；　I　would　never　have　permitted　my　enemy　to　do　so　much　harm。''
　　　　Covenant　nodded；　he　recognized　the　validity　of　the　answer。　After　a　moment　of　emptiness；　he　said；　〃Then　there's　nothing　you　can　do　for　me。　I　told　Foul　I　don't　believe　in　him。　I　don't　believe　in　you　either。　I've　had　the　chance　to　make　an　important　choice。　That's　enough。　I　don't　need　any　gifts。　Gifts　are　too　easy…I　can't　afford　them。〃
　　　　〃Ah！　but　you　have　earned…〃
　　　　〃I　didn't　earn　anything。''　Faint　anger　stirred　in　him。　〃You　didn't　give　me　a　chance　to　earn　anything。　You　put　me　in　the　Land　without　my　approval　or　consent…even　without　my　knowledge。　All　I　did　was　see　the　difference　between　health　and…disease。　Well；　it's　enough　for　me。　But　there's　no　particular　virtue　in　it。〃
　　　　Slowly；　the　voice　breathed。　〃Do　not　be　too　quick　to　judge　the　makers　of　worlds。　Will　you　ever　write　a　story　for　which　no　character　will　have　cause　to　reproach　you？〃
　　　　〃I'll　try；〃　said　Covenant。　〃I'll　try。〃
　　　　〃Yes；〃　the　voice　whispered。　〃Perhaps　for　you　it　is　enough。　Yet　for　my　own　sake　I　wish　to　give　you　a　gift。　Please　permit　me。〃
　　　　〃No。〃　Covenant's　refusal　was　weary　rather　than　belligerent。　He　could　not　think　of　anything　he　would　be　able　to　accept。
　　　　〃I　can　return　you　to　the　Land。　You　could　live　out　the　rest　of　your　life　in　health　and　honor；　as　befits　a　great　hero。〃
　　　　〃No。〃　Have　mercy　on　me。　I　couldn't　bear　it。　〃That's　not　my　world。　I　don'　t　belong　there。〃
　　　　〃I　can　teach　you　to　believe　that　your　experiences　in　the　Land　have　been　real。〃
　　　　〃No。〃　It's　not　that　easy。　〃You'll　drive　me　insane。〃
　　　　Again　the　voice　was　silent　for　a　while　before　it　said　in　a　tone　made　sharp　by　grief；　〃Very　well。　Then　hear　me；　Thomas　Covenant；　before　you　refuse　me　once　more。　This　I　must　tell　you。
　　　　〃When　the　parents　of　the　child　whom　you　saved　prehended　what　you　had　done；　they　sought　to　aid　you。　You　were　injured　and　weak　from　hunger。　Your　exertions　to　save　the　child　had　hastened　the　poison　in　your　lip。　Your　condition　was　grave。　They　bore　you　to　the　hospital　for　treatment。　This　treatment　employs　a　thing　which　the　Healers　of　your　world　name　'antivenin。'　Thomas　Covenant；　this　antivenin　is　made　from　the　blood　of　horses。　Your　body　loathes…you　are　allergic　to　the　horse　serum。　It　is　a　violent　reaction。　In　your　weak　state；　you　cannot　survive　it。　At　this　moment；　you　stand　on　the　threshold　of　your　own　death。
　　　　〃Thomas　Covenant…hear　me。〃　The　voice　breathed　passion　at　him。　〃I　can　give　you　life。　In　this　time　of　need；　I　can　provide　to　your　stricken　flesh　the　strength　it　requires　to　endure。〃
　　　　Covenant　did　not　answer　for　some　time。　Somewhere　in　his　half…forgotten　past；　he　had　heard　that　some　people　were　allergic　to　rattlesnake　antivenin。　Perhaps　the　doctors　at　the　hospital　should　have　tested　for　the　allergy　before　administering　the　full　dosage；　probably　he　had　been　so　far　gone　in　shock　that　they　had　not　had　time　for　medical　niceties。　For　a　moment；　he　considered　the　thought　of　dying　under　their　care　as　a　form　of　retribution。
　　　　But　he　rejected　the　idea；　rejected　the　self…pity　behind　it。　〃I'd　rather　survive；〃　he　murmured　dimly。　〃I　don't　want　to　die　like　that。〃
　　　　The　voice　smiled。　〃It　is　done。　You　will　live。〃
　　　　By　force　of　habit；　Covenant　said；　〃I'll　believe　it　when　I　see　it。〃
　　　　〃You　will　see　it。　But　there　is　first　one　other　thing　that　you　will　see。　You　have　not　asked　for　this　gift；　but　I　give　it　to　you　whether　or　not　you　wish　it。　I　did　not　ask　your　approval　when　I　elected　you　for　the　Land；　and　do　not　ask　now。〃
　　　　Before　Covenant　could　protest；　he　sensed　that　the　voice　had　left　him。　Once　again；　he　was　alone　in　the　darkness。　Oblivion　swaddled　him　so　fortably　that　he　almost　regretted　his　decision　to　live。　But　then　something　around　him　or　in　him　began　to　change；　modulate。　Without　sight　or　hearing　or　touch；　he　became　aware　of　sunlight；　low　voices；　a　soft　warm　breeze。　He　found　himself　looking　down　as　if　from　a　high　hill　at　Glimmermere。
　　　　The　pure　waters　of　the　lake　reflected　the　heavens　in　deep　burnished　azure；　and　the　breeze　smelled　gently　of　spring。　The　hills　around　Glimmer…mere　showed　the　scars　of　Lord　Foul's　preternatural　winter。　But　already　grass　had　begun　to　sprout　through　the　cold…seared　ground；　and　a　few　tough　spring　flowers　waved　bravely　in　the　air。　The　stretches　of　bare　earth　had　lost　their　gray；　frozen　deadness。　The　healing　of　the　Land　had　begun。
　　　　Hundreds　of　people　were　gathered　around　the　lake。　Almost　immediately；　Covenant　made　out　High　Lord　Mhoram。　He　stood　facing　east　across　Glimmermere。　He　bore　no　staff。　His　hands　were　heavily　bandaged。　On　his　left　were　the　Lords　Trevor　and　Loerya；　holding　their　daughters；　and　on　his　right　was　Lord　Amatin。　All　of　them　seemed　solemnly　glad；　but　Mhoram's