Lord of Chaos

by Robert Jordan

  “No,” Rand said slowly, “he’s not here. But he’s well.”

  “We hardly expected to find you in Caemlyn,” Jancy Torfinn piped up in her high voice. She could not be more than fourteen; she was the youngest, at least among the Emond’s Fielders. “Verin Sedai and Alanna Sedai will be pleased, I’ll wager. They’re always asking what we know about you.”

  So those were the two Aes Sedai. He knew Verin, a Brown sister, more than slightly. He did not know what to think about her being here, though. That was hardly most important anyway. These girls were from home. “Everything is all right in the Two Rivers, then? In Emond’s Field? Perrin got there all right, it seems. Wait! Lord Perrin?”

  That opened the sluice gate. The rest of the Two Rivers girls were more interested in studying the Aiel with sidelong peeks, especially Bael, and a few spared glances for the Saldaeans, but the Emond’s Field girls crowded around Rand, all trying to tell him everything at once, all jumbled up and wrong way round, interspersed with questions about himself and Mat, about Egwene and Nynaeve, most of which he could not have answered in under an hour had they given him a chance.

  Trollocs had invaded the Two Rivers, but Lord Perrin drove them off. They went on so about the great battle, everyone talking at the same time, that it was hard to pick out any details except that there had been one. Everybody fought, of course, but it had been Lord Perrin who saved everybody. Always Lord Perrin; any time he said just Perrin they corrected him in the perfunctory way they might someone who said horse when he should have said sawhorse.

  Even with the news that the Trollocs were beaten, Rand’s chest tightened. He had abandoned them to this. If he had gone, there might not have been such a long list of the dead, so many names that he knew. But if he had gone, he would not have the Aiel behind him. Cairhien would not be his, as much as it was, and Rahvin would likely be sending a united Andor against him and the Two Rivers. There was a price to be paid for any decision he made. There was a price for who he was. Other people paid it. He had to keep reminding himself that it was a far smaller price than they would pay without him. The reminder did not help much, though.

  Taking his expression for dismay at the listing of Two Rivers’ dead, the girls hastened on to happier things. It seemed Perrin had married Faile, too. Rand wished him happiness in that, and wondered how long any happiness they found could last. The girls thought it romantic and wonderful, and only seemed to regret that there had been no time for the usual wedding parties. They were quite approving of Faile, quite admiring, and a touch envious, even Larine.

  There had been Whitecloaks, too, and with them Padan Fain, the old peddler who used to come to Emond’s Field every spring. The girls seemed unsure whether the Whitecloaks had been friends or enemies, but to Rand, Fain made the difference if there was any real doubt. Fain was a Darkfriend, maybe worse than a Darkfriend, who would do anything to harm Rand and Mat and Perrin. Especially Rand. Maybe the worse news they had to tell him was that no one knew whether Fain was dead. In any case, the Whitecloaks were gone, the Trollocs were gone, and refugees were flooding in across the Mountains of Mist, bringing all sorts of new things, from customs to trades, plants and seeds to clothes. One of the other girls was a Domani, and there were two Taraboners and three from Almoth Plain.

  “Larine bought a Domani dress,” little Jancy laughed, cutting her eyes, “but her mother made her take it back to the seamstress.” Larine raised her hand, then thought better of it and simply rearranged her braid with a sniff. Jancy giggled.

  “Who cares about dresses?” Susa al’Seen exclaimed. “Rand doesn’t care about dresses.” A slight, fluttery girl, Susa had always been excitable, and right now she was bouncing on her toes. “Alanna Sedai and Verin Sedai tested everybody. Well. Almost everybody . . . “

  “Cilia Cole wanted to be tested, too,” Marce Eldin, a stocky girl, put in. Rand did not much remember her, except that she had always had her nose in a book, even walking in the street. “She insisted! She passed, but they told her she was too old to be a novice.”

  Susa went right on over Marce. “ . . . And we all passed . . . ”

  “We’ve been traveling all day and practically all night since Whitebridge,” Bode put in. “It is so good to stay in one place a little while.”

  “Have you seen Whitebridge, Rand?” Jancy said on top of Bode. “The White Bridge itself?”

  “ . . . And we’re going to Tar Valon to become Aes Sedai!” Susa finished with a glare that took in Bode, Marce and Jancy. “In Tar Valon!”

  “We will not be going to Tar Valon just yet.”

  The voice from the door to the street spun the girls’ attention from Rand, but the two Aes Sedai just coming in waved aside their questions offhandedly. The Aes Sedai’s regard was all for Rand. They were disparate women, despite the common link of their faces. Either could have been any age at all, but Verin was short and plump, square-faced, with a touch of gray in her hair, while the other, who must be Alanna, was dark and slender, a beautiful vulpine woman with waves of black hair and a light in her eyes that spoke of a temper. And with a slight redness around them, as if she had been crying, though Rand could hardly believe an Aes Sedai weeping. Her riding dress was gray silk slashed with green, and looked as if she had just donned it, while Verin’s pale brown appeared slightly rumpled. If Verin paid little heed to her clothes, though, her dark eyes were sharp enough. They latched on to Rand as tightly as mussels on a rock.

  Two men in dull green coats followed them into the common room, one stocky and gray-haired, the other a tall dark whip of a man, but each had a sword on his hip, and the fluid way they moved would have named them Warders even without the Aes Sedai. They ignored Rand entirely, instead watching the Aiel and Saldaeans with a stillness that spoke of sudden movement in check. For their part, the Aiel did not move exactly, but there was an air of veils going up about them, Maidens and Knife Hands alike, and the young Saldaeans’ fingers suddenly hovered near sword hilts. Only Bael and Bashere appeared truly at ease. The girls noticed nothing except the Aes Sedai, but the fat innkeeper sensed the mood and began wringing his hands, no doubt seeing his common room destroyed, if not his whole inn.

  “There will be no trouble,” Rand said loudly and levelly, for the innkeeper, for the Aiel. For everyone, he hoped. “No trouble unless you start it, Verin.” Several of the girls goggled at him, speaking so to an Aes Sedai, and Larine sniffed loudly.

  Verin studied him with birdlike eyes. “Who are we to start trouble near you? You have come far since I saw you last.”

  For some reason, he did not want to talk about that. “If you’ve decided not to go to Tar Valon, then you must have heard the Tower is broken.” That caused a startled buzz among the girls; they certainly had not heard. The Aes Sedai gave no reaction at all. “Do you know where those who oppose Elaida are?”

  “There are things we should discuss in private,” Alanna said calmly. “Master Dilham, we will need your private dining room.” The innkeeper nearly fell over himself assuring her that it was at her disposal.

  Verin started toward a side door. “This way, Rand.” Alanna looked at him, raising a questioning eyebrow.

  Rand held in a wry grin. They had just walked in and taken charge, but it seemed that Aes Sedai did that as naturally as breathing. The Two Rivers girls stared at him with varying degrees of commiseration. Doubtless they expected the Aes Sedai to skin him if he did not speak right and sit straight. Perhaps Verin and Alanna did, too. With a smooth bow he motioned for Alanna to proceed him. So he had come a long way, had he? They had no idea how far.

  Alanna acknowledged his bow with a nod, gathered her skirts and glided after Verin, but trouble followed immediately. The two Warders made as if to trail the Aes Sedai, and before they had taken a full step a pair of cold-eyed Sovin Nai moved to block them, while Sulin’s fingers flickered in handtalk, sending Enaila and a blocky Maiden named Dagendra toward the door the Aes Sedai were approaching. The Saldaeans looked to Bashere, who ges
tured for them to stay, but then he himself looked a question at Rand.

  Alanna made a vexed sound. “We will speak with him alone, Ihvon.” The slender Warder frowned, then nodded slowly.

  Verin glanced back, looking slightly startled, as though pulled from deep thought. “What? Oh, yes, of course. Tomas, stay here, please.” The gray-haired Warder appeared doubtful, and he gave Rand a hard look before lounging back against the wall beside the door to the street. At least, he was lounging if a tripwire could be said to be lounging. Only then did the Knife Hands relax — as much as Aiel ever relaxed.

  “I want to talk to them alone,” Rand said, looking straight at Sulin. For a moment he thought she meant to dispute him. Her jaw firmed stubbornly; finally handtalk passed between her, Enaila and Dagendra, and they moved back, looking at him and shaking their heads in disapproval. Sulin’s fingers moved again, and all the Maidens laughed. He wished there was some way to learn handtalk; Sulin had been scandalized when he asked.

  Confused looks passed among the Two Rivers girls as Rand started after the Aes Sedai, and he closed the door behind them on a rising buzz. It was a small room, but with polished chairs instead of benches and pewter candlesticks on both the polished table and the vine-carved mantel above the fireplace. The two windows were shut, yet no one made a move to open one. He wondered if either Aes Sedai had noticed that the heat touched him no more than it did them.

  “Will you be taking them to the rebels?” he asked immediately.

  Frowning, Verin smoothed her skirts. “You know considerably more about that than we do.”

  “We did not hear of events in the Tower until Whitebridge.” Alanna’s tone was cool, but there was heat in the eyes she kept fixed on him. “What do you know of . . . rebels?” A world of distaste entered her voice with that word.

  So they had heard the rumors first in Whitebridge, and made haste here, keeping everything from the girls. And by the reactions of Bode and the others, the decision not to go to Tar Valon was fresh. Seemingly they had found confirmation this morning. “I don’t suppose you’ll tell me who your spy in Caemlyn is.” They merely looked at him, Verin tilting her head to study him. Strange how Aes Sedai gazes had been so unsettling once, so serene whatever was happening, so knowing. Having an Aes Sedai stare at him, or even two, no longer made his stomach turn uneasily. Pride, Lews Therin laughed madly; and Rand suppressed a grimace. “I’ve been told rebels exist. You haven’t denied knowing where they are. I mean no harm to them, far from it. I have reason to believe they might support me.” He kept back his main reason for wanting to know. Perhaps Bashere was right, perhaps he did need Aes Sedai backing, but mainly he wanted to know because he had been told Elayne was with them. He needed her to gain Andor peacefully. That was his only motive in seeking her. The only one. He was as dangerous to her as to Aviendha. “For the love of the Light, if you know, tell me.”

  “If we did know,” Alanna replied, “we would have no right to tell anyone. Should they decide to support you, you may be certain they will seek you out.”

  “In their time,” Verin said, “not yours.”

  He smiled grimly. He should have expected as much, or as little. Moiraine’s advice was in the front of his head. Trust no woman who wore the shawl on the day she died.

  “Is Mat with you?” Alanna asked as if that were the last thing on her mind really.

  “If I knew where he was, why should I tell you? Turn and turn about?” They did not seem to think that was funny.

  “It is foolish to treat us as enemies,” Alanna murmured, moving toward him. “You look tired. Are you getting enough rest?” He stepped back from her raised hand, and she stopped. “Like you, Rand, I mean no harm. Nothing I do here will cause you any injury.”

  Since she had said it straight out, it must be so. He nodded, and she raised her hand to his head. His skin tingled faintly as she embraced saidar, and a familiar warm ripple passed through him, the feel of her checking his health.

  Alanna nodded in satisfaction. And suddenly the warmth was heat, one great flash of it, as if he stood for a heartbeat in the middle of a roaring furnace. Even after it passed, he felt odd, aware of himself as he never had been before, aware of Alanna. He swayed, head light, muscles watery. An echo of confusion and unease rang from Lews Therin.

  “What did you do?” he demanded. In a fury, he seized saidin. The strength of it helped hold him upright. “What did you do?”

  Something beat at the flow between him and the True Source. They were trying to shield him! Weaving his own shields, he slammed them into place. He truly had gone far, and learned much, since Verin last saw him. Verin staggered, putting a hand on the table for support, and Alanna grunted as if he had punched her.

  “What did you do?” Even deep in the cold emotionless Void as he was, his voice grated. “Tell me! I made no promises not to hurt you. If you don’t tell me — ”

  “She bonded you,” Verin said quickly, but if her serenity had been ruffled, it cloaked her again in an instant. “She bonded you as one of her Warders. That is all.”

  Alanna recovered her composure even faster. Shielded, she faced him calmly, arms folded, a hint of contentment about her eyes. Contentment! “I said I would not injure you, and I have done exactly the opposite of injury.”

  Drawing deep slow breaths, Rand tried to settle himself. He had walked into it like a puppy. Rage crawled across the outside of the Void. Calm. He must be calm. One of her Warders. She was Green then; not that that made any difference. He knew little of Warders, certainly not how to break the bond, or if it could be broken. All Rand felt from Lews Therin was a sense of stunned shock. Not for the first time Rand wished Lan had not gone galloping away after Moiraine died.

  “You said you won’t be going to Tar Valon. In that case, since you don’t seem to know whether you know where the rebels are, you can remain here in Caemlyn.” Alanna opened her mouth, but he rode over her. “Be grateful if I decide not to tie off those shields and leave you like that!” That got their attention. Verin’s mouth tightened, and Alanna’s eyes could have done for that furnace he had felt. “You will stay away from me, though. Both of you. Unless I send for you, the Inner City is barred to you. Try, to break that, and I will leave you shielded, and in a cell besides. Do we understand one another?”

  “Perfectly.” Despite her eyes, Alanna’s voice was ice. Verin merely nodded.

  Flinging open the door, Rand stopped. He had forgotten the Two Rivers girls. Some were talking to the Maidens, some were just studying them and whispering over their tea. Bode and a handful of the Emond’s Fielders were questioning Bashere, who had a pewter mug in his fist and one foot up on a bench. They looked half-entertained, half-aghast. The door banging open whipped their heads around.

  “Rand,” Bode exclaimed, “this man is saying awful things about you.”

  “He says you’re the Dragon Reborn,” Larine spluttered. The girls in the rest of the room apparently had not heard; they gasped.

  “I am,” Rand said wearily.

  Larine sniffed and folded her arms beneath her breasts. “As soon as I saw that coat I knew you had gotten a big head, running off with an Aes Sedai the way you did. I knew it before you talked so disrespectfully to Alanna Sedai and Verin Sedai. But I didn’t know you had become a stone blind jack-fool.”

  Bode’s laugh was more appalled than amused. “You shouldn’t say such a thing even as a joke, Rand. Tam raised you better than that. You’re Rand al’Thor. Now stop this foolishness.”

  Rand al’Thor. That was his name, but he hardly knew who he was. Tam al’Thor had raised him, but his father had been an Aiel chief, now long dead. His mother had been a Maiden, but not Aiel. That was as much as he really knew of who he was.

  Saidin still filled him. Gently he wrapped Bode and Larine in flows of Air and lifted them until their shoes dangled a foot above the floor. “I am the Dragon Reborn. Denying won’t change it. Wishing won’t change it. I’m not the man you knew back in Emond’s Field.
Do you understand now? Do you?” He realized he was shouting and clamped his mouth shut. His stomach was lead, and he was trembling. Why had Alanna done what she did? What Aes Sedai scheme was hatching behind that pretty face? Trust none of them, Moiraine had said.

  A hand touched his arm, and his head jerked around.

  “Please let them down,” Alanna said. “Please. They are frightened.”

  They were more than frightened. Larine’s face seemed drained of blood, and her mouth gaped as wide as it would go, as if she wanted to scream and had forgotten how. Bode was sobbing so hard she quivered. They were not the only ones. The rest of the Two Rivers girls had huddled together as far from him as they could get, and most of them were crying too. The serving maids were in that tight cluster as well, weeping as hard as anyone else. The innkeeper had sagged to his knees, goggle-eyed and gurgling wordlessly.

  Rand eased the two girls back down and hastily let go of saidin. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” As soon as they could move, Bode and Larine fled to join the other girls clutching one another. “Bode? Larine? I’m sorry. I won’t hurt you, I promise.” They did not look at him. None of them did. Sulin was certainly looking at him, and the rest of the Maidens too, blank-faced, flat-eyed disapproving stares.

  “What’s done is done,” Bashere said, setting down his mug. “Who knows? Perhaps it’s for the best.”

  Rand nodded slowly. It probably was. Best that they wanted to stay clear of him. Best for them. He just wished he could have talked a little while longer about home. A little while longer with them seeing only Rand al’Thor. His knees still wobbled from the bonding, but once he began moving, he did not stop until he was back in Jeade’en’s saddle. Best that they were afraid of him. Best that he forgot the Two Rivers. He wondered whether that mountain ever got lighter for a time, or only kept on getting heavier.