|Chapter 14: The Council of Lords|
With an effort, he breathed, "Why?"
Flatly, Bannor said, "When we came to the Land, we saw wonders--Giants, Ranyhyn, Revelstone--Lords of such power that they declined to wage war with us lest we be destroyed. In answer to our challenge, they gave to the Haruchai gifts so precious--" He paused, appeared to muse for a moment over private memories. "Therefore we swore the Vow. We could not equal that generosity in any other way."
"Is that your answer to death?" Covenant struggled with his sympathy, tried to reduce what Bannor said to manageable proportions. "Is that how things are done in the Land? Whenever you're in trouble you just do the impossible? Like Berek?"
"We have sworn the Vow. The Vow is life. Corruption is death."
"But for two thousand years?" Covenant protested. "Damnation! It isn't even decent. Don't you think you've done enough?"
Without expression, the Bloodguard replied, "You cannot corrupt us."