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could be blamed for being inadequate in the face of such unanswerable malevolence。 Destruction was easier than preservation； and when destruction had risen high enough； mere men and women could not be condemned if they failed to throw back the tide。 Therefore he was able to resist his own capacity for desecration。 His eyes burned like yellow fury at the creeping attack； but he was searching for defenses。
The aspect of the assault which most daunted him was its unwavering ferocity。 He could see that the ur…viles maintained their part of the power by rotating their positions； allowing each wedge and loremaster to rest in turn。 And he knew from experience that Lord Foul's strength…his own prodigious might making use of the Illearth Stone…was able to drive armies mad； push them to greater savagery than their flesh could bear。 But Satansfist was only one Giant； one body of mortal thew and bone and blood。 Even a Giant…Raver should not have been able to sustain such an extravagant exertion for so long。
In addition； while samadhi concentrated on his attack； he might reasonably have been expected to lose some of his control over his army。 Yet the whole horde； legion after legion； remained poised around Revel…stone 。 Each creature in its own way bent the lust of its will at the Keep。 And the emerald expenditure of samadhi's strength never blinked。 Clearly； Lord Foul supported his army and its mander with might so immense that it surpassed all Mhoram's previous conceptions of power。
He could see no hope for Revelstone anywhere except in the cost of that unwavering exertion。 The defenders would have to hope and pray that Satansfist's aegis broke before they did。 If they could not contrive to endure the Raver's attack； they were doomed。
When Mhoram returned to the hollow stone halls in the first； gray； dim ridicule of dawn； he was ready to strive for that endurance。
The hushed； tight wave of panic that struck him as he strode down the main passage into the Keep almost broke his resolve。 He could feel people grinding their teeth in fear behind the walls on either side of him。 Shouts reached him from a far gallery； two parties had banded together to defend themselves from each other。 Around a bend he surprised a hungry group that was attempting to raid one of the food storerooms； the people believed that the cooks in the refectories were preparing poison。
His anger blazed up in him； and he surged forward； intending to strike them where they stood in their folly。 But before he reached them； they fell into panic and fled from him as if he were a ghoul。 Their retreat left two of Quaan's warriors standing guard in front of the storeroom as if they were watching each other rather than the supplies。 Even these two regarded Mhoram with dread。
He mastered himself； forced a smile onto his crooked lips； said a few encouraging words to the guards。 Then he hastened away。
He saw now that Revelstone was at the flash point of crisis。 To help it； he had to provide the city with something more than moments of temporary aid。 Grimly； he ignored the other needs； the multitudes of fear； which cut at his awareness。 As he strode along passages and down stairways； he used his staff to summon Hearthrall Tohrm and all the Gravelingases。 He put his full authority into the mand； so that as many rhadhamaerl as possible might resist their panic and answer。
When he reached the bright floor of the courtyard around which the Lords' chambers were situated； he felt a brief surge of relief to see that Tohrm and a dozen Gravelingases were already there； and more were on their way。 Soon a score of the rhadhamaerl…nearly all the Keep's masters of stone…lore…stood on the shining rock； waiting to hear him。
For a moment； the High Lord gazed at the men； wincing inwardly at their misery。 They were Gravelingases of the rhadhamaerl； and were being hurt through the very stone around them。 Then he nodded sharply to himself。 This was the right place for him to begin； if he could convince these men that they were able to resist Satansfist's ill； they would be able to do much for the rest of the city。
With an effort that strained the muscles of his face； he smiled for them。 Tohrm answered with an awkward grin which quickly fell into apprehension again。
〃Gravelingases；〃 Mhoram began roughly； 〃we have spent too long each of us alone enduring this ill in small ways。 We must put our strength together to form a large defense。〃
〃We have obeyed your orders；〃 one man muttered sullenly。
〃That is true；〃 Mhoram returned。 〃Thus far we have all given our strength to encourage the people of Revelstone。 You have kept your graveling fires bright； as I manded。 But wisdom does not always e swiftly。 Now I see with other eyes。 I have listened more closely to the voice of the Keep。 I have felt the rock itself cry out against this evil。 And I say now that we must resist in other ways if Revelstone is to endure。
〃We have mistaken our purpose。 The Land does not live for us…we live for the Land。 Gravelingases； you must turn your lore to the defense of the stone。 Here； in this place〃…he touched the radiant floor with the heel of his staff…〃slumbers power that perhaps only a rhadhamaerl may prehend。 Make use of it。 Make use of any possible lore…do here together whatever must be done。 But find some means to seal the heart…rock of Revelstone against this blight。 The people can provide for themselves if Revelstone remains brave。〃
As he spoke； he realized that he should have understood these things all along。 But the fear had numbed him； just as it had icebound the Gravelingases。 And like him they now began to prehend。 They shook themselves； struck their hands together； looked around them with preparations rather than dread in their eyes。 Tohrm's lips twitched with their familiar grin。
Without hesitation； High Lord Mhoram left the Gravelingases alone to do their work。 As he walked along the tunnel away from the courtyard； he felt like a man who had discovered a new magic。
He directed his steps toward one of the main refectories； whose chief cook he knew to be a feisty； food…loving man not prone to either awe or fear； and as he moved； he sent out more summonses； this time calling his fellow Lords and Hearthrall Borillar's Hirebrands。 Amatin and Trevor answered tensely； and Borillar sent a half…timid sign through the walls。 But a long moment passed before Loerya answered； and when her signal came it was torpid； as if she were dazed with dismay。 Mhoram hoped that the rhadhamaerl could make themselves felt soon； so that people like Loerya might not altogether lose heart； and he climbed up through the levels of the Keep toward the refectory as if he were surging through viscous dread。
But as he neared the kitchen； he saw a familiar figure dodge away into a side passage； obviously trying to avoid him。 He swung around the corner after the man； and came face to face with Trell Atiaran…mate。
The big man looked feverish。 His graying beard seemed to bristle hotly； his sunken cheeks were flushed； and his dull； hectic eyes slid away from Mhoram's gaze in all directions； as if he could not control their wandering。 He sto