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

Swordmainnir.
Haruchai
do not regard their hurts.”
    “In other words,” she snapped, “they don’t want me to insult them by offering to treat them.”
    Covenant ground his teeth. She was right, of course.
    Stave shrugged. “There is much which the Masters do not comprehend.”
    “Mom,” Jeremiah breathed thickly. “I smell blood.”
    Linden glanced past Covenant at the boy. “I know, honey. I’m sick of all this killing. But we can’t stop. If we don’t fight, they’ll kill us.”
    As if to herself, she muttered, “It galls the hell out of me that the Cavewights would probably be on our side if they knew how Foul is using them. They can
think
, for God’s sake. They just don’t think clearly enough.”
    And they probably love their children, Covenant added for her. They probably hate us for what we’re doing. But he kept that thought to himself.
    Jeremiah murmured something that Covenant did not hear. Stonemage was beckoning them into motion.
    Still holding Linden’s hand, still resting his palm on Jeremiah’s shoulder, Covenant started forward again.
    Soon he, too, could smell blood: blood and more bitter fluids. In the distance ahead, the
krill
’s illumination caught glints of crimson on the floor and walls. It looked dark as ichor. The Giants and Masters leading the company had moved past the site of the fray, leaving hacked and gutted corpses behind them. Blood lay in thick pools around bodies and spilled guts. Stonemage strode through the carnage as if she could not afford to acknowledge it. Stave and Branl stepped, heedless, in swaths of red, trod with apparent unconcern over dripping corpses. But Covenant had to let go of Linden and Jeremiah so that he could pick his nauseated way among the dead.
    God
, it was hard not to hate the Despiser. Rage felt like the only sane response.
    As the Giants bringing up the rear passed the slain Cavewights, Branl told Covenant, “The Swordmainnir have gained an intersection of passages. The path familiar to Canrik and his companions lies to the right, but there the air is fraught with peril. Samil, Vortin, and other Masters approach from the left. They report that their search did not tend toward Kiril Threndor. Therefore the Ironhand wishes to continue ahead. She awaits only your consent, ur-Lord.”
    Covenant hesitated momentarily, trying to guess the consequences of every choice. Then he rasped, “Tell her to trust herself. More Masters will find us. Eventually some of them will know how to reach Kiril Threndor.”
    Branl and Stave nodded. Branl’s manner hinted at increased concentration as he conveyed Covenant’s reply.
    Covenant looked to Linden for her approval; but her attention was fixed on Jeremiah. The boy stood staring straight ahead as if he had gone blind. His hands shifted up and down the Staff as if he were wrestling with the Worm.
    Groaning to himself, Covenant trailed after Onyx Stonemage.
    When he and his companions reached the intersection, they found Frostheart Grueburn, Halewhole Bluntfist, and Dast waiting for them. Blood dripped from a cut the length of Grueburn’s left forearm. A spear had gashed Bluntfist’s right cheek. But their wounds seemed superficial. In the
krill
’s argent, their grins looked garish as grimaces.
    They gestured Covenant and the others onward. “The Ironhand deems,” Grueburn explained, “that we are no longer required in the forefront. Therefore we will ward the rear.” As Grueburn added, “Though we are Giants, we counsel haste,” Bluntfist chuckled. “Yon tunnel”—she indicated the one on Covenant’s right—“is rife with odors. It augurs unpleasantness.”
    “Be careful,” Covenant warned them unnecessarily. “We can’t lose you.”
    He had to stifle an impulse to start running.
    This tunnel climbed steeply; dipped down; rose again. It turned at odd angles. After a while, the clang of iron echoed after Covenant. Muffled snarls, thudding blows. Branl reported that Cavewights assailed Grueburn, Bluntfist, and Dast. But now the confines of the passage aided the Swordmainnir and the Master. They could afford to retreat as they fought, following the company. And soon they were able to beat back the creatures. The sounds of struggle faded.
    Branl continued to relay information from his kinsmen. In the distance ahead, the vanguard reached a branching. Four more Masters were there. These
Haruchai
reported that they had found a cave, a space like a small cavern with a shallow basin