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Before midmorning the next day； the pany of the Lords came in sight of the Maerl River。 They had been traveling faster since they had left the Warward； and when they reached the river； the northern boundary of Trothgard； they were halfway to Revelwood。 The Maerl flowed out of high places in the Westron Mountains； and ran first northeast； then southeast； until it joined the Gray； became part of the Gray； and
went eastward to the Soulsease。 Beyond the Maerl was the region where the Lords concentrated their efforts to heal the ravages of Desecration and war。
Trothgard had borne the name Kurash Plenethor； Stricken Stone； from the last years of Kevin Landwaster until it was rechristened when the new Lords first swore their oath of service after the Desecration。 At that time； the region had been pletely blasted and barren。 The last great battle between the Lords and the Despiser had taken place there； and had left it burned； ruined； soaked in scorched blood； almost soilless。 Some of the old tales said that Kurash Plenethor had smoked and groaned for a hundred years after that last battle。 And forty years ago the Maerl River had still run thick with eroded 。 and unfertile mud。
But now there was only a trace of silt left in the current。 For all the limitations of their prehension； the Lords had learned much about the nurturing of damaged earth from the Second Ward； and on this day the Maerl carried only a slight haze of impurity。 Because of centuries of past erosion； it lay in a ravine like a crack across the land。 But the sides of the ravine were gentle with deep…rooted grasses and shrubs； and healthy trees lifted their boughs high out of the gully。
The Maerl was a vital river again。
Looking down into it from the edge of the ravine； the pany paused for a moment of gladness。 Together； Elena； Mhoram； and Amatin sang softly part of the Lords' oath。 Then they galloped down the slope and across the road ford； so that the hooves of the Ranyhyn and the horses made a gay； loud splashing as they passed into Trothgard。
This region lay between the Westron Mountains and the Maerl； Gray； and Rill rivers。 Within these borders； the effects of the Lords' care were everywhere； in everything。 Generations of Lords had made Stricken Stone into a hale woodland； a wide hilly country of forests and glades and dales。 Whole grassy hillsides were vivid with small blue and yellow flowers。 For scores of leagues south and west of the riders； profuse aliantha and deep grass were full of goldleaved Gilden and other trees； cherry and apple and white linden； prodigious oaks and elms and maples anademed in autumn glory。 And air that for decades after the battle had still echoed with the blasts and shrieks of war was now so clear and clean that it seemed to glisten with birdcalls。
This was what Troy had first seen when his vision began； this was what Elena had used to teach him the meaning of sight。
Riding now on Mehryl's back under brilliant sun in Trothgard's luminous ambience； he felt more free of care than he had for a long time。
As the pany of the Lords moved through the early part of the afternoon； the country around them changed。 Piles 'of tumbled rock began to appear among the trees and through the greensward； rugged boulders several times taller than the riders thrust their heads out of the ground； and smaller stones overgrown with moss and lichen lay everywhere。 Soon the pany seemed to be riding within the ancient rubble of a shattered mountain； a tall； incongruous peak which had risen out of the hills of Kurash Plenethor until some immense force had blasted it to bits。
They were approaching the rock gardens of the Maerl。
Troy had never taken the time to study the gardens； but he knew that they were said to be the place where the best suru…pa…maerl Craftmasters of the rhadhamaerl did their boldest work。 Though in the past few years he had ridden along this road through the bristling rocks many times； he could not say where the gardens themselves began。 Except for a steady increase in the amount of rubble lying on or sticking through the grass； he could locate no specific changes or boundaries until the pany crested a hill above a wide valley。 Then at least he was sure that he was in one of the gardens。
Most of the long； high hillside facing the valley was thickly covered with stones； as if it had once been the heart of the ancient shattered peak。 The rocks clustered and bulged on all sides； raising themselves up in huge piles or massive single boulders； so that virtually the only clear ground on the steep slope was the roadway。
None of these rocks and boulders was polished or chipped or shaped in any way； though scattered individual stones and clusters of stones appeared to have had their moss and lichen cleaned away。 And they all seemed to have been chosen for their natural grotesquerie。 Instead of sitting or resting on the ground； they jutted and splintered and scowled and squatted and gaped； reared and cowered and blustered like a mad； packed throng of troglodytes terrified or ecstatic to be breathing open air。 On its way to the valley； the road wandered among the weird shapes as if it were lost in a garish forest； so that as they moved downward the riders were constantly in the shadow of one tormented form or another。
Troy knew that the jumbled amazement of that hillside was not natural； it had been made by men for some reason which he did not grasp。
On past journeys； he had never been interested enough in it to ask about its significance。 But now he did not object when High Lord Elena suggested that the pany go to look at the work from a distance。 Across the grassy bottom of the valley was another hill； even steeper and higher than the one it faced。 The road turned left； and went away along the bottom of the valley； ignoring the plainer hill。 Elena suggested that the riders climb this hill to look back at the gardens。
She spoke to her panions generally； but her gaze was on Covenant。 When he acquiesced with a vague shrug； she responded as if he had expressed the willingness of all the riders。
The front of the hill was too steep for the horses； so they turned right and cantered up the valley until they found a place where they could swing around and mount the hill from behind。 As they rode； Troy began to feel mildly expectant。 The High Lord's eagerness to show the view to Covenant invested it with interest。 He remembered other surprises…like the Hall of Gifts； which had not interested him until Mhoram had practically dragged him to it。
At the top； the hill bulged into a bare knoll。 The riders left their mounts behind； and climbed the last distance on foot。 They moved quickly； sharing Elena's mood； and soon reached the crest。
Across the valley； the rock garden lay open below them； displayed like a bas…relief。 From this distance； they could easily see that all its jumbled rock formed a single pattern。
Out of tortured stone；； the makers of the garden had designed a wide face…a broad countenance with lumped gnarled and twisted features。 The unevenness of the rock made the face appear bruised and contorted； its eyes were as ragged as deep wounds； and the roadway cut' through it like an aimless scar。 But despite all this； the face was stretched with a grin of immense cheerfulness。 The unexpectedness of it startled Troy into a low； glad burst of laughter。
Though the Lords and Lorewardens were obviously familiar with the garden； all their faces shared a look of joy； as if the displayed hilarious grin were contagious。 High Lord Elena clasped her hands together to contain a surge of happiness； and Lord Mhoram's eyes glittered with keen pleasure。 Only Covenant did not smile or nod； or show any other sign of gladness。 His face was as gaunt as a shipwreck。 His eyes held a restless； haggard look of their own； and his right hand fumbled at his ring in a way that emphasized his two missing fingers。 After a moment； he muttered through the pany's murmuring； 〃Well； the Giants certainly must be proud of you。〃
His tone was ambiguous； as if he were trying to say two contradictory things at once。 But his reference to the Giants overshadowed anything else he might have meant。 Lord Amatin's smile faltered； and a sudden s