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〃I have no stomach for the sight。〃
〃Triock！〃 Covenant placed his hand on the man's shoulder。
Instantly； Triock spun and struck Covenant across the cheek。
The blow did not appear powerful； Triock swung shortly； as if he were trying to pull back his arm。 But force erupted at the impact； threw Covenant to the ground several feet away。 His cheek stung with a deep pain like vitriol that made his eyes stream。 He barely saw Triock flinch； turn and start to flee； then catch himself and stop； waiting across the distance of a dozen yards as if he expected Covenant to hurl a spear through his back。
The pain roared like a rush of black waters in Covenant's head； but he forced himself to sit up； ignored his burning cheek； and said quietly； 〃I'm not going to Foul's Creche。〃
〃Not？〃 Surprise spun Triock to face Covenant。
〃No。〃 Covenant was vaguely surprised by his own certitude。 〃I'm going to cross the river…I'm going to try to go south with the Ramen。 They might…''
〃You dare？〃 Triock yelled。 He seemed livid with fury； but he did not advance toward Covenant。 〃You cost me my love！ My rades！ My home！ You slay every glad face of my life！ And then you say you will deny the one promise which might repense？ Unbeliever！ Do you think I would not kill you for such treachery？〃
Covenant shrugged。 〃Kill me if you want to。 It doesn't make any difference。'' The pain in his face interfered with his concentration； but still he saw the self…contradiction behind Triock's threat。 Fear and anger were balanced in the Stonedownor； as if he were two men trapped between flight and attack； straining in opposite directions。 Somewhere amid those antagonists was the Triock Covenant remembered。 He resisted the roaring in his head and tried to explain so that this Triock might understand。
〃The only way you can kill me is if I'm dying in my own world。 You saw me…when you summoned me。 Maybe you could kill me。 But if I'm really dying； it doesn't matter whether you kill me or not。 I'll get killed somehow。 Dreams are like that。
〃But before you decide； let me try to tell you why…why I'm not going to Foul's Creche。〃
He got painfully to his feet。 He wanted to go to Triock； look deeply into the man's face； but Triock's conflicting passions kept him at a distance。
〃I'm not exactly innocent。 I know that。 I told you it was my fault； and it is。 But it isn't all my fault。 Lena and Elena and Atiaran…and Giants and Ranyhyn and Ramen and Bloodguard…and you…it isn't all my fault。 All of you made decisions for yourselves。 Lena made her own decision when she tried to save me from punishment…after I raped her。 Atiaran made her own decision when she helped me get to Revelstone。 Elena made her own decision when she drank the EarthBlood。 You made your own decision… you decided to be loyal to the Oath of Peace。 None of it is entirely my doing。〃
〃You talk as if we exist；〃 Triock growled bitterly。
〃As far as my responsibility goes； you do。 I don't control my nightmares。 Part of me…the part that's talking…is a victim； as you are。 Just less innocent。
〃But Foul has arranged it all。 He…or the part of me that does the dreaming…has been arranging everything from the beginning。 He's been manipulating me； and I finally figured out why。 He wants this ring…he wants the wild magic。 And he knows…knows！…that if he can get me feeling guilty and responsible and miserable enough I'll try to fight him on his own ground…on his own terms。
〃 I can' t win a fight like that。 I don' t know how to win it。 So he wants me to do it。 That way he ends up with everything。 And I end up like any other suicide。
〃Look at me； Triock！ Look！ You can see that I'm diseased。 I'm a leper。 It's carved into me so loud anybody could see it。 And lepers… mit suicide easily。 All they have to do is forget the law of staying alive。 That law is simple； selfish； practical caution。 Foul's done a pretty good job of making me forget it…that's why you might be able to kill me now if you want to。 But if I've got any choice left； the only way I can use it is by remembering who I am。 Thomas Covenant； leper。 I've got to give up these impossible ideas of trying to make restitution for what I've done。 I've got to give up guilt and duty； or whatever it is I'm calling responsibility these days。 I've got to give up trying to make myself innocent again。 It can't be done。 It's suicide to try。 And suicide for me is the only absolute； perfect way Foul can win。 Without it； he doesn't get the wild magic； and it's just possible that somewhere； somehow； he'll run into something that can beat him。
〃So I'm not going…I am not going to Foul's Creche。 I'm going to do something simple and selfish and practical and cautious instead。 I'm going to take care of myself as a leper should。 I'll go into the Plains…I'll find the Ramen。 They'll take me with them。 The Ranyhyn…the Ranyhyn are probably going south already to hide in the mountains。 The Ramen will take me with them。 Mhoram doesn't know I'm here； so he won't be expecting anything from me。
〃Please understand； Triock。 My grief for you is…it'll never end。 I loved Elena； and I love the Land。 But if I can just keep myself alive the way I should…Foul can't win。 He can't win。〃
Triock met this speech queerly across the distance between them。 His anger seemed to fade； but it was not replaced by understanding。 Instead； a mixture of cunning and desperation gained the upper hand on his desire to flee； so that his voice held a half…hysterical note of cajolery as he said； 〃e； Unbeliever…do not take this choice hastily。 Let us speak of it calmly。 Let me urge〃…he looked around as if in search of assistance； then went on hurriedly…〃you are hungry and worn。 That Forest has exacted a harsh penance…I see it。 Let us rest here for a time。 We are in no danger。 I will build a fire…prepare food for you。 We will talk of this choice while it may still be altered。〃
Why？ Covenant wanted to ask。 Why have you changed like this？ But he already knew too many explanations。 And Triock bustled away promptly in search of firewood as if to forestall any questions。 The land on this side of the Roamsedge had been wooded at one time； and before long he had collected a large pile of dead brush and bushes； which he placed in the shelter of a hill a short distance from the Ford。 All the time； he kept his face averted from Covenant。
When he was satisfied with his quantity of wood； he stooped in front of the pile with his hands hidden as if for some obscure reason he did not want Covenant to see how he started the fire。 As soon as flames had begun to spread through the brush； he positioned himself on the far side of the fire and urged Covenant to approach its warmth。
Covenant acquiesced gladly enough。 His robe could not keep the cold out of his hands and feet； he could hardly refuse a fire。 And he could hardly refuse Triock's desire to discuss his decision。 His debt to Triock was large…not easily borne。 He sat down within the radiant balm of the fire opposite Triock and silently watched him prepare a meal。
As he worked； Triock mumbled to himself in a tone that made Covenant feel oddly unfortable。 His movements seemed awkward； as if he were trying to conceal arcane gestures while he handled the food。 He avoided Covenant's gaze； but whenever Covenant looked away； he could feel Triock's eyes flick furtively over him and flinch away。 He was startled when Triock said abruptly； 〃So you have given up hate。〃
〃Given up…？〃 He had not thought of the matter in those terms before。 〃Maybe I have。 It doesn't seem like a very good answer。 I mean； aside from the fact that there's no room for it in…in the law of leprosy。
Hate； humiliation； revenge…I make a mistake every time I let them touch me。 I risk my life。 And love； too； if you want to know the truth。 But aside from that。 It doesn't seem that I could beat Foul that way。 I'm just a man。 I can't hate…forever…as he can。 And〃…he forced himself to articulate a new perception…〃my hate isn't pure。 It's corrupt because part of me always hates me instead of him。 Always。〃
Triock placed a stoneware pot of stew in the fire to cook and said in a tone of eerie conviction； 〃It is the only answer。 Look about you。 Health； love； duty…none suffice against this winter。 Only those who hate are immortal。〃
〃Immortal？〃
〃Certainly。 Death claims all else in the end。 How else do the Despiser and…and his''…he said the name as if it dismayed him…〃Ravers endure？ They hate。〃 In his hoarse； barking tone； the word took on a wide range of passion and violence； as if indeed it were the one word of truth and transcendence。
The savor of the stew began to reach Covenant。 He found that he was hungry…and that his inner quiescence covered even Triock's queer asseverations。 He stretched out his legs； reclined on one elbow。 〃Hate；〃 he sighed softly； reducing the word to manageable dimensions。 〃Is that it； Triock？ I think…I think I've spent this whole thing…dream； delusion； fact； whatever you want to call it…I've spent it all looking for a good answer to death。 Resistance； rape…ridicule…love…hate？ Is that it？ Is that your answer？〃
〃Do not mistake me；〃 Triock replied。 〃I do not hate death。〃
Covenant gazed into the dance of the fire for a moment and let the aroma of the stew remind him of deep； sure； empty peace。 Then he said as if he were pleting a litany； 〃What do you hate？〃
〃I hate life。〃
Brusquely； Triock spooned stew into bowls。 When he handed a bowl around the fire to Covenant； his hand shook。 But as soon as he had returned to his hooded covert beyond the flames； he snapped angrily； 〃Do you think I am unjustified？ You； Unbeliever？〃
No。 No。 Covenant could not lift up his head against the accusation in Triock's voice。 Hate me as much as you need to； he breathed into the crackling of the fire and the steaming stew。 I don't want anyone else to sacrifice himself for me。 Without looking up； he began to eat。
The taste of the stew was not unpleasant； but it had a disconcerting under…flavor which made it difficult to swallow。 Yet once a mouthful had passed his throat； he found it warm and reassuring。 Slowly； drowsiness spread outward from it。 After a few moments； he was vaguely surprised to see that he had emptied the bowl。
He put it aside and lay down on his back。 Now the fire seemed to grow higher and hotter； so that he only caught glimpses of Triock watching him keenly through the weaving spring and crackle of the flames。 He was beginning to rest when he heard Triock say through the fiery veil； 〃Unbeliever； why do you not resume your journey to Foul's Creche？ Surely you do not believe that the Despiser will permit your flight…after he has striven so to bring about this confrontation of which you speak。〃
〃He won't want me to get away；〃 Covenant replied emptily； surely。 〃But I think he's too busy doing other things to stop me。 And if I can slip through his fingers just once； he'll let me go…at least for a while。 I've…I've already done so much for him。 The only thing he still wants from me is the ring。 If I don't threaten him with it； he'll let me go while he fights the Lords。 And then he'll be too late。 I'll be gone as far as the Ranyhyn can take me。〃
〃But what of this…this Creator''…Triock spat the word…〃who they say also chose you。 Has he no hold upon you？〃
Sleepiness only strengthened Covenant's confidence。 〃I don't owe him anything。 He chose me for this…I didn't choose it or him。 If he doesn't like what I do； let him find someone else。〃
〃But what of the people who have died and suffered for you？〃 Triock's anger returned； and he ripped the words as if they were illustrations of meaning which he tore from the walls of a secret Hall of Gifts deep within him。 〃How will you supply the significance they have earned from you？ They have lost themselves in bootless death if you flee。〃
I know； Covenant sighed to the sharp flames and the wind。 We're all futile； alive or dead。 He made an effort to speak clearly through his ing sleep。 〃What kind of significance will it give them if I mit suicide？ They won't thank me for throwing away…something that cost them so much。 While I'm alive〃…he lost the thought； then recovered it…〃while I'm alive； the Land is still a