The Last Dark: The climax of the entire Thomas Covenant Chronicles (Last Chronicles of Thomas Cove)

each other out of the way; blocked spears with belaying-pins and fists. When they could, they armed themselves with the Cavewights’ weapons.
    Sobbing, Scatterwit clamped her hands to Blustergale’s shoulder. “Ward yourself!” he gasped. “The wound is mine. I will stanch it.” But she ignored his protest.
    Near Linden, Earthpower burgeoned. Abruptly Jeremiah pushed past Kindwind’s protection. Yelling words which he had heard Linden use, he found an open space, aimed the Staff of Law like a lance. “
Melenkurion abatha!
” From the wood’s iron-shod end, black flame blared. “
Duroc minas mill!
” Magic lashed like lightning across the fissure, scoured its way into one of the tunnels. “
Harad khabaal!
” The Cavewights there caught fire, blazed in agony.
    “Take
that
, you bastards!” Like Scatterwit, he was sobbing. “I’m learning! I’ll kill you all!”
    To Linden, Cavewights implied Roger Covenant. She shouted Jeremiah’s name, fearing an eruption of Roger’s laval fury. But she hardly heard herself over the roars and efforts of the Giants, the sharp strike of spears.
    As the boy readied another blast, Stave reached him. Turning his back on the Cavewights, on the spears, Stave stepped in front of Jeremiah, forced Jeremiah to look at him. Calm as a breeze amid the turmoil, the former Master said, “Wield such strength with care, Chosen-son. It is new to you. Therefore it is uncertain.”
    “Rockbrother!” called Frostheart Grueburn.
    Stave did not glance at the Swordmain. “Also,” he told Jeremiah, “the ur-Lord’s maimed son may join the assault at any moment. You must prepare to oppose him.”
    Cursing, Grueburn left Linden, leaped to stop a spear aimed at Stave. The frantic sweep of her sword missed: she took the shaft’s point on her breastplate. It glanced away, clattered on the ledge.
    “Roger?” cried Jeremiah. “You want me to fight
Roger
? How am I supposed to do that?”
    “With care,” Stave replied evenly. “With passion, certainly, but also with care.” Step by step, he urged Jeremiah back into the shelter of Cirrus Kindwind’s bulk and armor.
    Frantic and afraid, Linden searched the confusion with her senses; but she found no sign of Roger.
    Abruptly the barrage of spears stopped. Responding to a signal that Linden did not hear or feel, all of the Cavewights withdrew from the gaping tunnels.
    A moment later, the barricade beyond the company collapsed as if a keystone had been removed. Huge rocks rolled over the edge, dropped soundless into the dark. In an instant, most of the barrier was gone as though a door had been kicked open.
    Along the ledge charged a throng of Cavewights, howling.
    They were armed with spears and falchions, cudgels and axes. Plates of stone hanging from their shoulders served as armor. The hot red of their eyes scorned the
krill
’s wavering radiance.
    Their suddenness caught the Giants off balance. A cudgel like a battering-ram struck the side of a sailor’s head, knocked him into the fissure. Cries followed him down. Furledsail fell back with gore spilling from a slash below her ribs. She, too, might have gone over the edge; but Setrock sprang after her, snatched her into his arms. Her attacker Keenreef stopped with one hard punch to the center of the forehead. Then he had to wheel away from the vicious stroke of an axe.
    “Withdraw!” The Anchormaster’s command echoed up the wall. He sounded preternaturally unperturbed; accustomed to gales. Perhaps he was also accustomed to loss. “Withdraw, Dire’s Vessel! This is work for Swordmainnir!”
    But he did not retreat himself. Jerking the spear out of Hurl’s chest, he advanced to meet the Cavewights. He seemed to be laughing.
    Onyx Stonemage and Halewhole Bluntfist were already running to counter the charge. Rime Coldspray shouted for Branl; consigned Covenant to the Humbled. With her glaive in her fist, she raced after Stonemage and Bluntfist.
    The ledge was too narrow for a massed assault. No more than four Cavewights led the attack; and even then, they hampered each other. Stonemage and Bluntfist let the remaining sailors scramble between them. Then the two Swordmainnir faced the creatures.
    Coldspray stopped Stoutgirth three paces behind her comrades. She and the Anchormaster braced themselves for flung spears; prepared to cut down any Cavewight that fought past Stonemage and Bluntfist.
    “
Damn
it, Branl!” Covenant demanded. “
Do
something! I can take care of