The Dragon Reborn, p.72
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One of the tall, paired doors pushed open while he was trying to think of something to say, and a tall young woman of regal bearing entered the room, wearing a coronet with a golden hawk in flight above her brows. Her black hair swept to pale shoulders, and her dress of the finest red silk left those shoulders bare, along with a considerable expanse of what Mat noted as an admirable bosom. For a moment she studied Rhuarc interestedly with large, dark eyes; then she turned them on the women at the table, coolly imperious. Mat she appeared to ignore completely.
“I am not used to being given messages to carry,” she announced, flourishing a folded parchment in one slim hand.
“And who are you, child?” Moiraine asked.
The young woman drew herself up even more, which Mat would have thought was impossible. “I am Berelain, First of Mayene.” She tossed the parchment down on the table in front of Moiraine with a haughty gesture and turned back to the door.
“A moment, child,” Moiraine said, unfolding the parchment. “Who gave this to you? And why did you bring it, if you are so unused to carrying messages?”
“I . . . do not know.” Berelain stood facing the door; she sounded puzzled. “She was . . . impressive.” She gave herself a shake and seemed to recover her opinion of herself. For a moment she studied Rhuarc with a small smile. “You are the leader of these Aielmen? Your fighting disturbed my sleep. Perhaps I will ask you to dine with me. One day quite soon.” She looked over her shoulder at Moiraine. “I am told the Dragon Reborn has taken the Stone. Inform the Lord Dragon that the First of Mayene will dine with him tonight.” And she marched out of the room; Mat could think of no other way to describe that stately, one-woman procession.
“I would like to have her in the Tower as novice.” Egwene and Elayne said it almost like echoes, then shared a tight smile.
“Listen to this,” Moiraine said. “ ‘Lews Therin was mine, he is mine, and he will be mine, forever. I give him into your charge, to keep for me until I come.’ It is signed ‘Lanfear.’ ” The Aes Sedai turned that cool gaze on Mat. “And you thought it was done? You are ta’veren, Mat, a thread more crucial to the Pattern than most, and the sounder of the Horn of Valere. Nothing is done for you, yet.”
They were all looking at him. Nynaeve sadly, Egwene as though she had never seen him before, Elayne as if she expected him to change into someone else. Rhuarc had a certain respect in his eyes, though Mat would just as soon have done without it, all things considered.
“Well, of course,” he told them. Burn me! “I understand.” I wonder how soon Thom will be fit to travel? Time to run. Maybe Perrin will come with us. “You can count on me.”
From outside, the cries still rose, unceasing. “The Dragon! Al’Thor! The Dragon! Al’Thor! The Dragon! Al’Thor! The Dragon!”
And it was written that no hand but his should wield the Sword held in the Stone, but he did draw it out, like fire in his hand, and his glory did burn the world. Thus did it begin. Thus do we sing his Rebirth. Thus do we sing the beginning.
—from Do’in Toldara te, Songs of the Last Age,
Quarto Nine: The Legend of the Dragon.
Composed by Boanne, Songmistress
at Taralan, the Fourth Age.
The End
of the Third Book of
The Wheel of Time
Glossary
A Note on Dates in This Glossary. Three systems of recording dates have been in general use since the Breaking of the World. The first recorded years After the Breaking (AB). Since the years of the Breaking and immediately after were years of almost total chaos, and since this calendar was adopted a good hundred years after the end of the Breaking, its starting point was arbitrarily assigned. At the end of the Trolloc Wars many records had been lost, so much so that there was argument about the exact year under the old system. A new calendar was therefore established, dating from the end of the Wars and celebrating the supposed freedom of the world from the Trolloc threat. This second calendar recorded each year as Free Year (FY). After the disruption, death, and destruction caused by the War of the Hundred Years, a third calendar came into being. This calendar, of the New Era (NE), is currently in use.
Accepted, the: Young women in training to be Aes Sedai who have reached a certain level of power and passed certain tests. It normally takes five to ten years to be raised from novice to the Accepted. Accepted are somewhat less confined by rules than novices, and are allowed to choose their own areas of study, within limits. An Accepted has the right to wear a Great Serpent ring, but only on the third finger of her left hand. When an Accepted is raised to Aes Sedai, she chooses her Ajah, gains the right to wear the shawl, and may wear the ring on any finger or not at all if circumstances warrant.
Aes Sedai (EYEZ seh-DEYE): Wielders of the One Power. Since the Time of Madness, all surviving Aes Sedai are women. Widely distrusted and feared, even hated, they are blamed by many for the Breaking of the World, and are thought to meddle in the affairs of nations. At the same time, few rulers will be without an Aes Sedai advisor, even in lands where the existence of such a connection must be kept secret. After some years of channeling the One Power, Aes Sedai take on an ageless quality, so that an Aes Sedai who is old enough to be a grandmother may show no signs of age except perhaps a few gray hairs. See also Ajah; Amyrlin Seat; Time of Madness.
Age of Legends: The Age ended by the War of the Shadow and the Breaking of the World. A time when Aes Sedai performed wonders now only dreamed of. See also Wheel of Time; Breaking of the World; War of the Shadow.
Aiel (eye-EEL): The people of the Aiel Waste. Fierce and hardy. Also called Aielmen. They veil their faces before they kill, giving rise to the saying “acting like a black-veiled Aiel” to describe someone who is being violent. Deadly warriors with any weapon or with nothing but their bare hands, they will not touch a sword. Their pipers play them into battle with the music of dances, and Aielmen call battle “the dance,” and “the dance of spears.” See also Aiel warrior societies; Aiel Waste.
Aiel War, the: (976–78 NE) When King Laman of Cairhien cut down Avendoraldera, several clans of the Aiel crossed the Spine of the World. They looted and burned the capital city of Cairhien as well as many other cities and towns, and the conflict extended into Andor and Tear. The conventional view is that the Aiel were finally defeated at the Battle of the Shining Walls, before Tar Valon, but in fact, Laman was killed in that battle, and having done what they had come for, the Aiel recrossed the Spine. See also Avendoraldera; Cairhien.
Aiel warrior societies: Aiel warriors are all members of one of the warrior societies, such as the Stone Dogs (Shae’en M’taal), the Red Shields (Aethan Dor), or the Maidens of the Spear (Far Dareis Mai). Each society has its own customs, and sometimes specific duties. For example, Red Shields act as police. Stone Dogs often vow not to retreat once battle has been joined, and will die to the last man if necessary to fulfill this vow. The clans of the Aiel—among them the Goshien, Reyn, Shaarad, and Taardad Aiel—frequently fight among themselves, but members of the same society will not fight each other even if their clans are doing so. In this way, there are always lines of contact between the clans even when they are in open warfare. See also Aiel; Aiel Waste; Far Dareis Mai.
Aiel Waste: The harsh, rugged, and all-but-waterless land east of the Spine of the World. Called the Three-fold Land by the Aiel. Few outsiders go there, not only because water is almost impossible to find for one not born there, but because the Aiel consider themselves at war with all other peoples and do not welcome strangers. Only peddlers, gleemen, and the Tuatha’an are allowed safe entry, and contact even with them is limited. No maps of the Waste itself are known to exist.
Ajah (AH-jah): Societies among the Aes Sedai to which all Aes Sedai except the Amyrlin Seat belong. They are designated by colors: Blue, Red, White, Green, Brown, Yellow, and Gray. Each follows a specific philosophy of the use of the One Power and the purposes of the Aes Sedai. For example, the Red Ajah bends all its energies to finding men who are
attempting to wield the Power, and to gentling them. The Brown Ajah, on the other hand, forsakes involvement with the mundane world and dedicates itself to seeking knowledge, while the White Ajah, largely eschewing both the world and the value of worldly knowledge, devotes itself to questions of philosophy and truth. The Green Ajah (called the Battle Ajah during the Trolloc Wars) holds itself ready to counter any new Dreadlords when Tarmon Gai’don comes. There are rumors of a Black Ajah, dedicated to serving the Dark One.
Alanna Mosvani (ah-LAN-nah mos-VANH-nie): An Aes Sedai of the Green Ajah.
al’Meara, Nynaeve (al-MEER-ah, NIGH-neev): A woman once the Wisdom of Emond’s Field, in the Two Rivers district of Andor (AN-door). Now one of the Accepted.
al’Thor, Rand (al-THOR, RAND): A young man from Emond’s Field who is ta’veren. Once a shepherd. Now proclaimed as the Dragon Reborn.
al’Vere, Egwene (ahl-VEER, eh-GWAIN): A young woman from Emond’s Field. Now in training to be Aes Sedai.
Amalasan, Guaire (ahm-ah-LAH-sin, Gware): See War of the Second Dragon.
Amyrlin Seat (AHM-ehr-lin SEAT): (1) Leader of the Aes Sedai. Elected for life by the Hall of the Tower, the highest council of the Aes Sedai, which consists of three representatives (called Sitters, as in “a Sitter for the Green”) from each of the seven Ajahs. The Amyrlin Seat has, theoretically at least, almost supreme authority among the Aes Sedai, and ranks socially as the equal of a king or queen. A slightly less formal usage is simply the Amyrlin. (2) The throne on which the leader of the Aes Sedai sits.
Anaiya (ah-NYE-yah): An Aes Sedai of the Blue Ajah.
angreal (anh-gree-AHL): Remnants of the Age of Legends that allow anyone capable of channeling the One Power to handle a greater amount of the Power than could safely be channeled unaided. Their making is no longer known. Few remain in existence. See also sa’angreal; ter’angreal.
Artur Hawkwing: See Hawkwing, Artur.
Assemblage, the: A body in Illian, chosen by and from the merchants and shipowners, that is supposed to advise both the King and the Council of Nine, but historically has contended with them for power.
Atha’an Miere (ah-thah-AHN mee-EHR): See Sea Folk.
Avendesora (AH-vehn-deh-SO-rah): In the Old Tongue, “the Tree of Life.” Mentioned in many stories and legends.
Avendoraldera (AH-ven-doh-ral-DEH-rah): A tree grown in the city of Cairhien from a sapling of Avendesora. This sapling was a gift from the Aiel in 566 NE, despite the fact that no record shows any connection whatsoever between the Aiel and Avendesora. See also Aiel War.
Aviendha (Ah-vee-EHN-dah): A woman of the Nine Valleys sept of the Taardad Aiel; a Far Dareis Mai, a Maiden of the Spear.
Aybara, Perrin (ay-BAHR-ah, PEHR-rihn): A young man from Emond’s Field, formerly a blacksmith’s apprentice.
Ba’alzamon (bah-AHL-zah-mon): In the Trolloc tongue, “Heart of the Dark.” Believed to be the Trolloc name for the Dark One. See also Dark One; Trollocs.
Bashere, Zarine (bah-SHEER, zah-REEN): A young woman from Saldaea who is a Hunter of the Horn. She wishes to be called Faile (fah-EEL), which, in the Old Tongue, means “falcon.”
Be’lal (beh-LAAL): One of the Forsaken.
Bel Tine (BEHL TINE): Spring festival celebrating the end of winter, the first sprouting of crops, and the birth of the first lambs.
Betrayer of Hope: See Ishamael.
biteme (BITE-me): A small, almost invisible biting insect.
bittern (BlHT-tehrn): A musical instrument that may have six, nine, or twelve strings, and is held flat on the knees and played by plucking or strumming.
Blight, the: See Great Blight, the.
Borderlands, the: The nations bordering the Great Blight: Saldaea, Arafel, Kandor, and Shienar.
Bornhald, Dain (BOHRN-hahld, DAY-ihn): An officer of the Children of the Light, son of Lord Captain Geofraim Bornhald, who died at Falme, on Toman Head.
Breaking of the World, the: During the Time of Madness, male Aes Sedai who had gone insane, and who could wield the One Power to a degree now unknown, changed the face of the earth. They caused great earthquakes, leveled old mountain ranges and raised new mountains, lifted dry land where seas had been and made the ocean rush in where dry land had been. Many parts of the world were completely depopulated, and the survivors were scattered like dust on the wind. This destruction is remembered in stories, legends, and history as the Breaking of the World. See also Time of Madness; Hundred Companions, the.
Byar, Jaret (BY-ahr, JAH-ret): An officer of the Children of the Light.
Caemlyn (KAYM-lihn): The capital city of Andor.
Cairhien (KEYE-ree-EHN): Both a nation along the Spine of the World and the capital city of that nation. The city was burned and looted during the Aiel War, as were many other towns and villages. The consequent abandonment of farmland near the Spine of the World made necessary the importation of great quantities of grain. The assassination of King Galldrian (998 NE) has resulted in a civil war among the noble Houses for succession to the Sun Throne, in the disruption of grain shipments, and in famine. The sign of Cairhien is a many-rayed golden sun rising from the bottom of a field of sky blue.
Callandor (CAH-lahn-DOOR): The Sword That Is Not a Sword, the Sword That Cannot Be Touched. A crystal sword held in the Stone of Tear, in the chamber called the Heart of the Stone. No hand can touch it except that of the Dragon Reborn. According to the Prophecies of the Dragon, one of the major signs of the Dragon’s Rebirth and the approach of Tarmon Gai’don will be that the Dragon Reborn has taken Callandor.
Cauthon, Mat (CAW-thon, MAT): A young man from Emond’s Field in the Two Rivers. Full name: Matrim (MAT-trim) Cauthon.
channel: (verb) To control the flow of the One Power. See also One Power.
Children of the Light: A society holding strict ascetic beliefs, dedicated to the defeat of the Dark One and the destruction of all Darkfriends. Founded during the War of the Hundred Years by Lothair Mantelar (LOH-thayr MAHN-tee-LAHR) to proselytize against an increase in the numbers of Darkfriends, they evolved during the war into a completely military organization. They are extremely rigid in their beliefs, and certain that only they know the truth and the right. They hate Aes Sedai, considering them, and any who support or befriend them, Darkfriends. They are known disparagingly as Whitecloaks. Their sign is a golden sunburst on a field of white. See also Questioners.
Chronicles, Keeper of the: Second in authority to the Amyrlin Seat among the Aes Sedai, she also acts as secretary to the Amyrlin. Chosen for life by the Hall of the Tower, and usually of the same Ajah as the Amyrlin. See also Amyrlin Seat; Ajah.
Council of Nine: In Illian, a council of nine Lords who are supposed to advise the King, but who historically contend with him for power. Both the King and the Nine often must contend with the Assemblage, as well.
cuendillar (CWAIN-deh-yar): See heartstone.
Daes Dae’mar (DAH-ess day-MAR): The Great Game, also known as the Game of Houses. Name given the scheming, plots, and manipulations for advantage by the noble Houses. Great value is given to subtlety, to aiming at one thing while seeming to aim at another, and to achieving ends with the least visible effort.
Damodred, Lord Galadedrid (DAHM-oh-drehd, gah-LAHD-eh-drihd): Half brother to Elayne and Gawyn. His sign is a winged silver sword, point down.
Darkfriends: Those who follow the Dark One and believe they will gain great power and rewards, and even immortality, when he is freed from his prison.
Darkhounds: See Wild Hunt.
Dark One: Most common name, used in every land, for Shai’tan. The source of evil, antithesis of the Creator. Imprisoned by the Creator in Shayol Ghul at the moment of Creation. The attempt to free him from that prison brought about the War of the Shadow, the tainting of saidin, the Breaking of the World, and the end of the Age of Legends.
Dark One, naming the: Saying the true name of the Dark One (Shai’tan) draws his attention, inevitably bringing ill fortune at best, disaster at worst. For that reason, many euphemisms are used, am
ong them the Dark One, Father of Lies, Sightblinder, Lord of the Grave, Shepherd of the Night, Hearstbane, Soulsbane, Heartfang, Old Grim, Grassburner, and Leafblighter. Darkfriends call him the Great Lord of the Dark. Someone who seems to be inviting ill fortune is often said to be “naming the Dark One.”
Daughter-Heir: Title of the heir to the throne of Andor. The eldest daughter of the Queen succeeds her mother on the throne. Without a surviving daughter, the throne goes to the nearest female blood relation of the Queen.
Daughter of the Night: See Lanfear.
Dragon, false: Occasionally men claim to be the Dragon Reborn, and sometimes one of these men gains following enough to require an army to put it down. Some have begun wars that involved many nations. Over the centuries most of these have been men unable to channel the One Power, but a few could do so. All, however, either disappeared or were captured or killed without fulfilling any of the Prophecies concerning the Rebirth of the Dragon. These men are called false Dragons. Among those who could channel, the most powerful were Raolin Darksbane (335–36 AB), Yurian Stonebow (circa 1300–1308 AB), Davian (FY 351), Guaire Amalasan (FY 939–43), and Logain (997 NE). See also Dragon Reborn.
Dragon, Prophecies of the: Little known and seldom spoken of, the Prophecies, given in The Karaethon Cycle, foretell that the Dark One will be freed again to touch the world. And that Lews Therin Telamon, the Dragon, Breaker of the World, will be reborn to fight Tarmon Gai’don, the Last Battle against the Shadow. See also Dragon, the.
Dragon, the: The name by which Lews Therin Telamon was known during the War of the Shadow. In the madness that overtook all male Aes Sedai, Lews Therin killed every living person who carried any of his blood, as well as everyone he loved, thus earning the name Kinslayer. See also Dragon Reborn; Dragon, Prophecies of the.
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Praise for
THE WHEEL OF TIME®
Book Three
THE DRAGON REBORN
“An exciting, well-written adventure. Jordan offers distinctive heroes and themes, including an interesting look at relations between the sexes.”
—Milwaukee Sentinel
“Jordan’s writing is clear and his vision is fascinating, as are the philosophies which run his characters. And speaking of characters, a more interesting bunch I would be hard put to name. . . . The Dragon Reborn will be one of the books to read this year.”
—Steven Sawicki, Science Fiction Review
“Jordan has created a world where everything fits together . . . his characters follow their own personalities rather than types, and his settings are presented with detail that belief is easy.”
—Lexington Herald-Leader
“Robert Jordan’s latest book is a fine one, filled with the cleverness, imagination, and wonderfully drawn characters expected. . . . Jordan’s skill as a writer doubles the pleasure. . . . The Dragon Reborn is on a far higher plane than most fantasy novels.”
—The Post and Courier (Charleston, South Carolina)
“[The Wheel of Time] continues to exhibit a freshness that makes it a welcome addition to any . . . fantasy collection.”
—Library Journal
“A complex tapestry of fascinating characters, descriptive details, and events. I highly recommend this series to anyone who loves epic fantasy.”
—Carol Lynn Ukockis, Galactic Dispatch
THE
DRAGON
REBORN
ROBERT JORDAN
A TOM DOHERTY ASSOCIATES BOOK
NEW YORK
The author and publisher have provided this e-book to you without Digital Rights Management software (DRM) applied so that you can enjoy reading it on your personal devices. This e-book is for your personal use only. You may not print or post this e-book, or make this e-book publicly available in any way. You may not copy, reproduce or upload this e-book, other than to read it on one of your personal devices.
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Dedicated to
James Oliver Rigney, Sr.
(1920–1988)
He taught me always to follow the dream,
and when I caught it, to live it.
CONTENTS
Dedication
MAPS
PROLOGUE: Fortress of the Light
1
Waiting
2
Saidin
3
News from the Plain
4
Shadows Sleeping
5
Nightmares Walking
6
The Hunt Begins
7
The Way Out of the Mountains
8
Jarra
9
Wolf Dreams
10
Secrets
11
Tar Valon
12
The Amyrlin Seat
13
Punishments
14
The Bite of the Thorns
15
The Gray Man
16
Hunters Three
17
The Red Sister
18
Healing
19
Awakening
20
Visitations
21
A World of Dreams
22
The Price of the Ring
23
Sealed
24
Scouting and Discoveries
25
Questions
26
Behind a Lock
27
Tel’aran’rhiod
28
A Way Out
29
A Trap to Spring
30
The First Toss
31
The Woman of Tanchico
32
The First Ship
33
Within the Weave
34
A Different Dance
35
The Falcon
36
Daughter of the Night
37
Fires in Cairhien
38
Maidens of the Spear
39
Threads in the Pattern
40
A Hero in the Night
41
A Hunter’s Oath
42
Easing the Badger
43
Shadowbrothers
44
Hunted
45
Caemlyn
46
A Message Out of the Shadow
47
To Race the Shadow
48
Following the Craft
49
A Storm in Tear
50
The Hammer
51
Bait for the Net
52
In Search of a Remedy
53
A Flow of the Spirit
54
Into the Stone
55
What Is Written in Prophecy
56
People of the Dragon
GLOSSARY
And his paths shall be many, and who shall know his name, for he shall be born among us many times, in many guises, as he has been and ever will be, time without end. His coming shall be like the sharp edge of the plow, turning our lives in furrows from out of the places where we lie in our silence. The breaker of bonds; the forger of chains. The maker of futures; the unshaper of destiny.
—from Commentaries on the Prophecies of the Dragon,
by Jurith Dorine, Right Hand to the
Queen of Almoren, 742 AB, the Third Age
PROLOGUE
Fortress of the Light
Pedron Niall’s aged gaze wandered about his private audience chamber, but dark eyes hazed with thought saw nothing. Tattered wall hangings, once battle banners of the enemies of his youth, faded into dark wood paneling laid over stone walls, thick even here in the heart of the Fortress of the Light. The single chair in the room—heavy, high-backed, and almost a throne—was as invisible to him as the few scattered tables that completed the furnishings. Even the white-cloaked man kneeling with barely restrained eagerness on the great sunburst set in the wide planks of the floor had vanished from Niall’s mind for the moment, though few would have dismissed him so lightly.
Jaret Byar had been given time to wash before being brought to Niall, but both his helmet and his breastplate were dulled from travel and battered from use. Dark, deep-set eyes shone with a feverish, urgent light in a face that seemed to have had every spare scrap of flesh boiled away. He wore no sword—none was allowed in Niall’s presence—but he seemed poised on the edge of violence, like a hound awaiting the loosing of the leash.
Twin fires on long hearths at either end of the room held off the late winter cold. It was a plain, soldier’s room, really, everything well made but nothing extravagant—except for the sunburst. Furnishings came to the audience chamber of the Lord Captain Commander of the Children of the Light with the man who rose to the office; the flaring sun of coin gold had been worn smooth by generations of petitioners, replaced and worn smooth again. Gold enough to buy any estate in Amadicia, and the patent of nobility to go with it. For ten years Niall had walked across that gold and never thought of it twice, any more than he thought of the sunburst embroidered across the chest of his white tunic. Gold held little interest for Pedron Niall.
/> Eventually his eyes went back to the table next to him, covered with maps and scattered letters and reports. Three loosely rolled drawings lay among the jumble. He took one up reluctantly. It did not matter which; all depicted the same scene, though by different hands.
Niall’s skin was as thin as scraped parchment, drawn tight by age over a body that seemed all bone and sinew, but there was nothing of frailty about him. No man held Niall’s office before his hair was white, nor did any man softer than the stones of the Dome of Truth. Still, he was suddenly aware of the tendon-ridged back of the hand holding the drawing, aware of the need for haste. Time was growing short. His time was growing short. It had to be enough. He had to make it enough.
He made himself unroll the thick parchment halfway, just enough to see the face that interested him. The chalks were a little smudged from travel in saddlebags, but the face was clear. A gray-eyed youth with reddish hair. He looked tall, but it was hard to say for certain. Aside from the hair and the eyes, he could have been set down in any town without exciting comment.
“This . . . this boy has proclaimed himself the Dragon Reborn?” Niall muttered.
The Dragon. The name made him feel the chills of winter and age. The name borne by Lews Therin Telamon when he doomed every man who could channel the One Power, then or ever after, to insanity and death, himself among them. It was more than three thousand years since Aes Sedai pride and the War of the Shadow had brought an end to the Age of Legends. Three thousand years, but prophecy and legend helped men remember—the heart of it, at least, if the details were gone. Lews Therin Kinslayer. The man who had begun the Breaking of the World, when madmen who could tap the power that drove the universe leveled mountains and sank ancient lands beneath the seas, when the whole face of the earth had been changed and all who survived fled like beasts before a wildfire. It had not ended until the last male Aes Sedai lay dead, and a scattered human race could begin trying to rebuild from the rubble—where even rubble remained. It was burned into memory by the stories mothers told children. And prophecy said the Dragon would be born again.
Niall had not really meant it for a question, but Byar took it for one. “Yes, my Lord Captain Commander, he has. It is a worse madness than any false Dragon I’ve ever heard of. Thousands have declared for him already. Tarabon and Arad Doman are in civil war, as well as at war with each other. There is fighting all across Almoth Plain and Toman Head, Taraboner against Domani against Darkfriends crying for the Dragon—or there was fighting until winter chilled most of it. I’ve never seen it spread so quickly, my Lord Captain Commander. Like throwing a lantern into a hay barn. The snow may have damped it down, but come spring, the flames will burst out hotter than before.”
Niall cut him off with a raised finger. Twice already Niall had let him tell his story through, his voice burning with anger and hate. Parts of it Niall knew from other sources, and in some areas he knew more than Byar, but each time he heard it, it goaded him anew. “Geofram Bornhald and a thousand of the Children dead. And Aes Sedai did it. You have no doubts, Child Byar?”
“None, my Lord Captain Commander. After a skirmish on the way to Falme, I saw two of the Tar Valon witches. They cost us more than fifty dead before we stuck them full of arrows.”
“You are sure—sure they were Aes Sedai?”
“The ground erupted under our feet.” Byar’s voice was firm and full of belief. He had little imagination, did Jaret Byar; death was part of a soldier’s life, however it came. “Lightnings struck our ranks out of a clear sky. My Lord Captain Commander, what else could they have been?”
Niall nodded grimly. There had been no male Aes Sedai since the Breaking of the World, but the women who still claimed that title were bad enough. They prated of their Three Oaths: to speak no word that was not true, to make no weapon for one man to kill another, to use the One Power as a weapon only against Darkfriends or Shadowspawn. But now they had showed those oaths for the lies they were. He had always known no one could want the power they wielded except to challenge the Creator, and that meant to serve the Dark One.
“And you know nothing of those who took Falme and killed half of one of my legions?”
“Lord Captain Bornhald said they called themselves Seanchan, my Lord Captain Commander,” Byar said stolidly. “He said they were Darkfriends. And his charge broke them, even if they killed him.” His voice gained intensity. “There were many refugees from the city. Everyone I spoke to agreed the strangers had broken and fled. Lord Captain Bornhald did that.”
Niall sighed softly. They were almost the same words Byar had used the first two times about the army that had seemingly come out of nowhere to take Falme. A good soldier, Niall thought, so Geofram Bornhald always said, but not a man to think for himself.
“My Lord Captain Commander,” Byar said suddenly, “Lord Captain Bornhald did command me to stand aside from the battle. I was to watch, and report to you. And tell his son, Lord Dain, how he died.”
“Yes, yes,” Niall said impatiently. For a moment he studied Byar’s hollow-cheeked face, then added, “No one doubts your honesty or courage. It is exactly the sort of thing Geofram Bornhald would do, facing a battle in which he feared his entire command might die.” And not the sort of thing you have imagination enough to think up.
There was nothing more to learn from the man. “You have done well, Child Byar. You have my leave to carry word of Geofram Bornhald’s death to his son. Dain Bornhald is with Eamon Valda—near Tar Valon at last report. You may join them.”
“Thank you, my Lord Captain Commander. Thank you.” Byar rose to his feet and bowed deeply. Yet as he straightened, he hesitated. “My Lord Captain Commander, we were betrayed.” Hatred gave his voice a saw-toothed edge.
“By this one Darkfriend you spoke of, Child Byar?” He could not keep an edge out of his own voice. A year’s planning lay in ruins amid the corpses of a thousand of the Children, and Byar wanted to talk only of this one man. “This young blacksmith you’ve only seen twice, this Perrin from the Two Rivers?”
“Yes, my Lord Captain Commander. I do not know how, but I know he is to blame. I know it.”
“I will see what can be done about him, Child Byar.” Byar opened his mouth again, but Niall raised a thin hand to forestall him. “You may leave me now.” The gaunt-faced man had no choice but to bow again and leave.
As the door closed behind him, Niall lowered himself into his high-backed chair. What had brought on Byar’s hatred of this Perrin? There were far too many Darkfriends to waste energy on hating any particular one. Too many Darkfriends, high and low, hiding behind glib tongues and open smiles, serving the Dark One. Still, one more name added to the lists would do no harm.
He shifted on the hard chair, trying to find comfort for his old bones. Not for the first time he thought vaguely that perhaps a cushion would not be too much luxury. And not for the first time, he pushed the thought away. The world tumbled toward chaos, and he had no time to give in to age.
He let all the signs that foretold disaster swirl through his mind. War gripped Tarabon and Arad Doman, civil war ripped at Cairhien, and war fever was rising in Tear and Illian, old enemies as they were. Perhaps these wars meant nothing in themselves—men fought wars—but they usually came one at a time. And aside from the false Dragon somewhere on Almoth Plain, another tore at Saldaea, and a third plagued Tear. Three at once. They must all be false Dragons. They must be!
A dozen small things besides, some perhaps only baseless rumors, but taken together with the rest. . . . Sightings of Aiel reported as far west as Murandy, and Kandor. Only two or three in one place, but one or a thousand, Aiel had come out of the Waste just once in all the years since the Breaking. Only in the Aiel War had they ever left that desolate wilderness. The Atha’an Miere, the Sea Folk, were said to be ignoring trade to seek signs and portents—of what, exactly, they did not say—sailing with ships half full or even empty. Illian had called the Great Hunt of the Horn for the first time in almost four hundred y
ears, had sent out the Hunters to seek the fabled Horn of Valere, which prophecy said would summon dead heroes from the grave to fight in Tarmon Gai’don, the Last Battle against the Shadow. Rumor said the Ogier, always so reclusive that most common people thought them only legend, had called meetings between their far-flung stedding.
Most telling of all, to Niall, the Aes Sedai had apparently come into the open. It was said they had sent some of their sisters to Saldaea to confront the false Dragon Mazrim Taim. Rare as it was in men, Taim could channel the One Power. That was a thing to fear and despise in itself, and few thought a man like that could be defeated except with the aid of Aes Sedai. Better to allow Aes Sedai help than to face the inevitable horrors when he went mad, as such men inevitably did. But Tar Valon had apparently sent other Aes Sedai to support the other false Dragon at Falme. Nothing else fit the facts.
The pattern chilled the marrow in his bones. Chaos multiplied; what was unheard of, happening again and again. The whole world seemed to be milling, stirring near the boil. It was clear to him. The Last Battle really was coming.
All his plans were destroyed, the plans that would have secured his name among the Children of the Light for a hundred generations. But turmoil meant opportunity, and he had new plans, with new objectives. If he could keep the strength and will to carry them out. Light, let me hold on to life long enough.