is self-chosen.
-- Layne Staley
You know how it is when you want to get someplace really fast, when your mind is already on what you're going to do when you get there, and you've already mentally moved beyond the whole trip -- and that's when you get behind the octogenarian driver ... driving a dumptruck ... uphill ...
That's what reading this chapter, The Path To Pain, can be like, the first time you read it (and, for that matter, the second time, the third time etc.). You're done with aftermathing the Isle of the One Tree, and you're ready for some exciting stuff to start happening again. You'd like nothing better than the author to write
but he doesn't. It's going to be a while – tension needs to be tautened, fears need to be fed, dilemnas need to be exacerbated, and more cornstarch needs to be thrown into the plot as it simmers a bit longer.Three months later, under a sun of pestilence, the Search stood before Revelstone, ready to kick some
There are no unimportant chapters; The Path to Pain is no exception. So let's restrain ourselves and take a closer look.
As we open, Covenant has just finished speaking with Linden, and he emerges on the deck somewhat restored from having made some forward-facing decisions.
He has Honninscrave on his mind; he wants to set things right between them. His refusal to release Seadreamer with wild magic has left a nub on his conscience. But he is balked in a manner that must seem all too usual to Covenant.
but it becomes clear that the Giant's just don't think Honninscrave can bear it right now. It’s somewhat telling that Covenant takes a hint.But when he approached Honninscrave and the other two Giants with him, Sevinhand Anchormaster and a steersman holding Shipsheartthew, the caution in their eyes stopped Covenant.
But then something unexpected happens. Cail approaches the Master.
Cail? Intent?Without preamble, he said, "Grimmand Honninscrave, in the name of my people I desire your pardon. When Brinn assayed himself against ak-Haru Kenaustin Ardenol - he who is the sovereign legend and dream of all the Haruchai among the mountains - it was not his intent to bring about the death of Cable Seadreamer your brother."
There are several surprises here. The Haruchai are not reknown for their apologies, nor their sensitivity to others. And it's somewhat startling to consider that Brinn may have been somewhat culpable for Seadreamer's demise.
Earlier, it was stated by Findail that Brinn’s combat with the Guardian had aroused the Worm, made it aware of the company's approach, restless. That was the only way - plans were laid ages ago so that it could be the only way. Brinn was eager for that combat. But the death of Seadreamer could not have been predicted or avoided. And approach was necessary. So the Giant's demise was a side effect of a necessary action. Indeed, that is what Cail's words make clear: “The sovereign legend and dream of all the Haruchai.” Brinn had other things on his mind.
But is Cail apologizing to Honninscrave -- or declaring that the Haruchai are without fault in the matter? Probably the latter. Haruchai succeed, or Haruchai fail, but Haruchai don’t make allowances or excuses.
Covenant gets what he seeks after all: this brings Honninscrave forward, and he speaks to both Cail and Covenant.
No hope? A Giant?After a moment, Honninscrave lifted his voice over the wet splashing of the shipside. "The Earth-Sight is not a thing which any Giant selects for himself. No choice is given. But, we do not therefore seek to gainsay or eschew it. We believe - or have believed” he said with a touch of bitterness, "- that there is life as well as death in such mysteries. How then should there be any blame in what has happened?" Honninscrave spoke more to himself than to Covenant or Cail. "The Earth-Sight came upon Cable Seadreamer my brother, and the hurt of his vision was plain to all. But the content of that hurt he could not tell. Mayhap his muteness was made necessary by the vision itself. Mayhap for him no denial of death was possible which would not also have been a denial of life. I know nothing of that. I know only that he could not speak his plight - and so he could not be saved. There is no blame for us in this." He spoke as though he believed what he was saying; but the loss knotted around his eyes contradicted him.
"His death places no burden upon us but the burden of hope." The sunset was fading from the west and from his face, translating his mien from crimson to the pallor of ashes. "We must hope that in the end we will find means to vindicate his passing. To vindicate," he repeated faintly, "and to comprehend." He did not look at his auditors. The dying of the light echoed out of his eyes. "I am grieved that I can conceive no hope."
But Covenant blames himself for Honninscrave’s misery, and his complex self-recriminations are hungry for sustenance.
He had earned the right to be left alone. But Covenant needed an answer. He and Foamfollower had talked about hope. Striving to keep his voice gentle in spite of his own stiff hurt, he asked, "Then why do you go on?"
For a long moment, Honninscrave remained still against the mounting dark as if he had not heard, could not be reached. But at last he said simply, "I am a Giant. The Master of Starfare's Gem, and sworn to the service of the First of the Search. That is preferable."
Ah, Honninscrave! You are headed down the path to pain.
Honninscrave’s soliloquy begins along a course that seems rather Giantish – he speaks of the unity of death and life, and of blamelessness when steering between them. He would seem the large-hearted Giant, if his eyes did not give him away.
But then he changes tack. He speaks of vindication for those whom are lost to a cause. This is very Covenantish, is it not? Maybe Covenant is rubbing off on him. Have any other characters ever spoken of vindication in this way?
And then he speaks of hope - hope is of course a major theme in this story. Hope is supposed to come from service; does this mean that Honninscrave serves nothing now? Or that what he serves has no value? Or that his service is valueless itself? So it’s no surprise that his next statement is about service. And when he remarks that he serves Starfare’s Gem, he does so rather offhandishly one must admit. In light of his stated hopelessness, one has to wonder how whole-hearted this service will be.
And finally, “that is preferable” - the alternative remaining unstated. What other course does he hint at? Certainly, it will be a unilateral one. Honninscrave might soon be considering casting his anchor upon the rock once again.
With Honninscrave’s plight draped about him, Covenant takes a tour of the dromond, a rather grim tour, one which visits each and every other concern which weighs on him, Honninscrave already accounted for.
· Cail, unwontedly alone.
· The crippled Giantship.
· The opposing question marks of Vain and Findail.
· The First, long denied constructive action.
· Her husband Pitchwife, who worries less about the quest and more about the questors.
· Linden, set adrift by Covenant’s betrayal.
· Mistweave, a Giant contemplating a Haruchai’s shoes.
What do you do when you’re done with wallowing in despair? You get your act together and you move on. And the first step in doing this is: take a good look around, and make a frank and realistic inventory of what your problems are.
That almost seems to be what the author is doing in these passages. In a few pages, we have reviewed and assessed all of the major features of Covenant’s tale as it stands at this time.
This, then, is the turning point. We’ve stopped the decline which the Isle of the One Tree tipped us down, and we begin to climb again.
The Giantship is on it’s way back to the Land. But no sooner has the journey begun than it falls into crisis – a heavy, freezing wind that blows the dromond straight into danger.
Covenant and Linden spend the next significant part of this journey being cold. Fortunately, the Giants are as immune to cold as to fire – but Covenant and Linden can only huddle in the galley near the stove, becoming more acquainted with Seasauce and Hearthcoal the cooks.
It is now a time of trial for all the crew. It’s so cold the ship becomes enshrouded in ice. The decks are covered in ice, the lines are encased in ice, the canvas is weighted with ice - and the wind blows without relief. Only constant and skilled attention keeps the dromond from disaster. And because the wind is so strong, and the ship is so maimed, there is no choice but to let the wind drive them where it will.
Irredeemably, Starfare’s Gem sails along a path to pain …
The next section of the chapter, about 7 pages, describes the plight of the Giantship, and of the Search. There are enough descriptions of cold, and cold seafaring, to establish the atmosphere for the remainder of the chapter, as well as the next three.
Of Giants, the author writes: “Impervious to fire if not to pain, they were also proof against cold.” The Giants who go out into the freeze to tend the ship may be safe, but they probably feel the icy pain just as we would. And they can endure colder conditions, for longer, than we could survive to describe. So as you reads these pages, as cold as you might feel, you probably can’t even imagine how cold those Giant’s must be. Brrr!
… and it lashes them into the Soulbiter.
Each and every visit to the Soulbiter is something new. And this time is no exception.
The wind stops – stops! - and, amid icebergs, the Search comes to a halt, as if to award the passengers and crew the best possible view of what is to happen next.
Covenant and Linden leave the galley and join the other Giants on the deck, to learn what the Soulbiter has become for this encounter. Slowly, the Search comes under the spell of the ice; eventually everyone aboard the dromond ends up standing mutely at the rail, Cail the Haruchai becoming enchanted last.“It appears that we are here.”
The author is very consistent in his treatment of cold. There are other passages, earlier in TPTP, and later in WGW, which compare similarly. Cold is always linked with sopor, enchantment, and snares.
Before their eyes, sailors, marooned, destitute, piteous, drift by on an iceberg. They call for help, but, spellbound, no one on the dromond replies, although it tears at their hearts.
The next chunk of ice is more familiar; on it, Hergrom and Ceer battle a sandgorgon. Ceer hails the vessel – and still no one moves.
And then … Seadreamer. Alone. Adrift. Alive.
Worse, Seadreamer speaks.
False cause? To this cost? Damned?!?!"My people," he said in a voice as quiet and extreme as the cold, "you must succor me. This is the Soulbiter. Here suffer all the damned who have died in a false cause, unaided by those they sought to serve. If you will not reach out to me, I must stand here forever in my anguish, and the ice will not release me. Hear me; you whom I have loved to this cost. Is there no love left in you for me?"
We cusp here.
And thus the Soulbiter is defeated.In pain and dismay, Covenant moved. With a curse that splintered the silence, he burned his hands off the rail. Wild magic pulsed through him like the hot ichor of grief: white fire burst out of his ring like rage. "We're going to lose him!" he howled at the Giants. "Get a rope!"
An instant later, the First wrenched herself free. Her iron voice rang across the Giantship: "No!"
Jerking toward the mooring of a nearby ratline, she snatched up one of the belaying-pins. "Avaunt, demon!" she yelled. "We will not hear you!"
Fierce with fury and revulsion, she hurled the pin straight at Seadreamer.
The Giants gaped as her projectile flashed through him.
It struck a chip from the edge of the ice and skipped away into the sea, splashing distinctly. At once, his form wavered. He tried to speak again; but already he had dissolved into mirage. The floe drifted emptily away toward the south.
There you have it – the dramatic action in this chapter is the First throwing a stick.
The Dead of the Soulbiter are among the author’s least compelling antagonists, and their threat is rather weak. While they are treated seriously, they are not given much depth (nameless ur-viles and cavewights are illustrated more sympathetically) and they do not have much effect, giving credence to the idea that they are only a means to a specific story-telling end – discussed below.
If Seadreamer’s spectre were truly significant, then the author would have invested this passage with a thorough narration of Honninscrave’s response.
So is it worthwhile to try to understand why Seadreamer proclaims his cause as false, or his fellow prisoners as unaided, or damned? Chalk it up as nothing more than unsophisticated lies thrown out there by the Soulbiter, and give them no further thought.
There are some marginal points for consideration.
First, Covenant’s response awakens the wild magic. In light of recent events, there would need to be an extreme reason. Perhaps the appearance of Seadreamer slips past his defenses and re-awakens his guilt about refusing Honninscrave. If so, then this remains a repressed concern.
Next, consider that the primary cause of the First’s action was not Seadreamer’s appearance, but the wild magic’s. The First is finally roused by the threat which Covenant encompasses, and she tackles the problem quickly and correctly. Covenant may be graced, but he is also blessed, with capable friends.
Finally … there is no Memla out on the ice, no Nassic, no Marid. Only those who have been lost since Coercri. Perhaps this reflects that this is a danger directed at everyone aboard Starfare’s Gem, and not specifically at Covenant, or anyone else. In which case, maybe the marooned sailors are known to the crew of the dromond – but if so, why are they “human” and “men”?
The Soulbiter has one last card to play. Like a spoiled child who tips the board when they lose a game, the gale returns, instantly and dramatically. Starfare’s Gem must avoid the floating ice or perish as it is once more hurled forward.
And that’s when Linden faints.
It is Linden’s swoon which sets up the action in the next chapter, actions which renew and enlarge the threat to Covenant’s ring, and set him squarely on a path to pain.
Could it be that everything in this latest visit to the Soulbiter happens solely to have Linden fall thus? There is little to argue against it.