|Chapter 18: Revelstone in Rain|
The next instant, a brown arm reached between the window bars of a nearby cell. Fingers clawed the air, desperate for freedom.
The gesture galvanized Covenant. It was something he understood. He dashed toward that door.
A Rider shouted at him, forbidding him. He paid no heed.
As he gained the door, the arm withdrew. A flat face pressed against the bars. Impassive eyes gazed out at him.
He almost lost his balance in horror. The prisoner was one of the Haruchai--one of Bannor's people, who made their home high in the fastnesses of the Westron Mountains. He could not mistake the stern characteristic mien of the race that had formed the Bloodguard, could not mistake the resemblance to Bannor, who had so often saved his life.
In Andelain, Bannor's shade had said, Redeem my people. Their plight is an abomination.
Suppressing the tonal lilt of his native tongue, the Haruchai said, "Ur-Lord Thomas Covenant, Unbeliever and white gold wielder, I salute you. You are remembered among the Haruchai." The implacable rigor of his personality seemed incapable of supplication. "I am Brinn. Will you set us free?"