Lord of Chaos

by Robert Jordan

  In an instant, it seemed, Taim was there, blue-and-gold Dragons twined around the sleeves of his black coat, staring down at the fellow. His collar bore neither pin. “You would not strike at the Dragon Reborn, Gedwyn,” Taim said, at once soft and steely, and the hard-faced man scrambled to his feet, saluting with fist to heart.

  Rand looked toward where Gawyn had been, but all he could see was a large group of men with a White Boar banner slashing their way deeper into the surrounding Aiel, with more green-coated men fighting to join them.

  Taim turned to Rand, that almost-smile on his lips. “Under the circumstances, I trust you will not hold it against me, violating your command about confronting Aes Sedai. I had reason to visit you in Cairhien, and . . . ” He shrugged. “You look the worse for wear. You will allow me to — ” The slight twist of his lips flattened as Rand stepped back from his outstretched hand, pulling Min with him. She hung on tighter than ever.

  Lews Therin had begun ranting about killing as he always did when Taim appeared, rambling madly about the Forsaken and killing everybody, but Rand stopped listening, walled the man off to the buzzing of a fly. It was a trick he had learned inside the chest, when there was nothing to do but feel at the shield and listen to a voice in his head that was insane more often than not. Yet even without Lews Therin, he did not want to be Healed by the man. He thought if Taim ever touched him with the Power, however innocently, he would kill him.

  “As you wish,” the hawk-nosed man said wryly. “I have the campsite secured, I believe.”

  That seemed true enough. Bodies littered the ground, but in only a few places did men still fight inside the ring of wagons. A dome of Air suddenly covered the entire camp, smoke from the fires sliding up to a hole left in the top. It was not one solid weave of saidin; Rand could see where individual weaves butted one against another to make it. He thought there might have been as many as two hundred black-coated men beneath the dome. A hail of lightning and fire struck that barrier and exploded harmlessly. The sky itself seemed to crackle and burn; the constant roar of it filled the air. Maidens with strips of red dangling from their arms and siswai’aman stood along the wall they could not see, mingled with Mayeners and Cairhienin, many of them afoot as well. On the other side, a solid mass of Shaido stared at the invisible barricade keeping them from their enemies, sometimes stabbing at it with spears or hurling themselves against it bodily. Spears stopped short, and bodies bounced back.

  Inside the dome, the last fighting died even as Rand looked. Under the eyes of a scant handful of red-marked men and Maidens, disarmed Shaido were removing their garments with stolid faces; taken in battle, they would wear gai’shain white for a year and a day even if the Shaido somehow succeeded in overrunning the camp. Cairhienin and Mayeners provided guards for a large knot of angry Warders and Younglings mixed with fearful servants, almost as many guards as prisoners. Nearly a dozen Aes Sedai were being shielded by an equal number of Asha’man wearing sword and Dragon. The Aes Sedai looked sick and frightened. Rand recognized three, though Nesune was the only one he could name. He did not recognize any of their Asha’man jailers. A number of the women Rand had shielded and rendered unconscious were laid out with those prisoners, some of them beginning to stir, while black-coated soldiers and Dedicated with the silver sword on their collars were using saidin to drag others across the ground and lay them in that row. Some of them brought the two unconscious Aes Sedai and the angular woman out of the copse; she was still screaming. When they were added to the cluster, some of the Aes Sedai abruptly turned away and vomited.

  There were other Aes Sedai present, surrounded by Warders and watched by black-coated men though not shielded, watching the Asha’man as uneasily as did the women under guard. They stared at Rand, too, and plainly would have come to him if not for the Asha’man. Rand glared back. Alanna was there; he had not been hallucinating. He did not recognize all of her companions, but enough. They were nine altogether. Nine. Sudden rage stormed outside the Void, and Lews Therin’s fly-buzz grew louder.

  At that point it seemed no surprise at all to see Perrin stagger up, face and beard bloody, followed by a limping Loial with a huge axe, and a bright-eyed fellow who looked a Tinker in a red-striped coat, except for the sword he carried, blade crimson from end to end. Rand almost looked around to see whether Mat was also there somehow. He did see Dobraine, on foot with a sword in one hand and the staff of Rand’s crimson banner in the other. Nandera joined Perrin, letting her veil drop, and another Maiden Rand almost did not recognize at first. It was good to see Sulin in cadin’sor once more.

  “Rand,” Perrin gasped, “thank the Light you’re still alive. We meant for you to make a gateway for us to escape, but it’s all fallen to pieces. Rhuarc and most of the Aiel are still out among the Shaido, most of the Mayeners and Cairhienin too, and I don’t know what has happened to the Two Rivers folk, or the Wise Ones. The Aes Sedai were supposed to stay with them, but . . . ” Putting the head of his axe on the ground, he leaned on the shaft panting; he looked as if he might fall without the support.

  Along the barrier, mounted men were appearing, as well as Aielmen in red headbands and Maidens with strips of red dangling from their arms. The barrier held them out as well. Wherever they appeared, Shaido swarmed over them, swallowed them up.

  “Let the dome go,” Rand ordered. Perrin sighed in relief, of all things. Had he thought Rand would let his own people be slaughtered? But Loial sighed too. Light, what did they think of him? Min began rubbing his back, murmuring under her breath in a soothing tone. For some reason, Perrin gave her a very surprised look.

  Taim might have been surprised, but he was certainly not relieved. “My Lord Dragon,” he said in a tight voice, “I would say there are still several hundred Shaido women out there, some not insignificant it seems. And that is not to mention some thousands of Shaido with spears. Unless you truly want to find out whether you are immortal, I suggest waiting a few hours until we know this place well enough to make gateways with some certainty where they will come out, then leaving. There are casualties in battle. I lost several soldiers today, nine men who will be harder to replace than any number of renegade Aiel. Whoever dies out there, dies for the Dragon Reborn.” If he had been paying any attention to Nandera or Sulin, he might have moderated his tone and chosen his words more carefully. Handtalk flashed between them; they looked ready to strike him down on the spot.

  Perrin pushed himself upright, yellow eyes fixed on Rand, firm and anxious at the same time. “Rand, even if Dannil and the Wise Ones held back the way they were supposed to, they’ll not leave as long as they see this.” He gestured to the dome overhead, where fire and lightning made a continuous sheet of light. “If we sit here for hours, the Shaido will turn on them sooner or later, if they haven’t already. Light, Rand! Dannil and Ban and Wil and Tell . . . Amys is out there, and Sorilea, and . . .! Burn you, Rand, more have died for you already than you know!” Perrin drew a deep breath. “At least let me out. If I can make it that far, I can let them know that you’re alive and they can retreat before they get killed.”

  “Two of us can slip out,” Loial said quietly, hefting that huge axe. “Two will stand a better chance.” The Tinker only smiled, but almost eagerly.

  “I will have a place opened in the barrier,” Taim began, but Rand broke in on him sharply.

  “No!” Not for the Two Rivers folk. He could not appear to worry over them any more than over the Wise Ones. Truth to tell, he had to seem to worry less. Amys was out there? The Wise Ones never took part in battle; they walked untouched through battles and blood feuds. They had ripped apart custom if not law to come for him. He would as soon let Perrin go back into that maelstrom as abandon them. But it could not be for the Wise Ones or the Two Rivers folk. “Sevanna wants my head, Taim. Apparently she thought she could take it today.” The emotionless quality the Void gave to his voice was appropriate. It did seem to worry Min, though; she was stroking his back as though to calm him. “I mean to let
her know her mistake. I told you to make weapons, Taim. Show me just how deadly they are. Disperse the Shaido. Break them.”

  “As you command.” If Taim had been stiff before, he was stone now.

  “Put my standard up where they can see it,” Rand commanded. At least that would tell everyone outside who held the camp. Maybe the Wise Ones and Two Rivers folk would pull back when they saw that.

  Loial’s ears wriggled uneasily, and Perrin grabbed Rand’s arm as Taim walked away. “I saw what they do, Rand. It’s . . . ” With his bloody face and bloody axe, he still sounded disgusted.

  “What would you have me do?” Rand demanded. “What else can I do?”

  Perrin’s hand fell away, and he sighed. “I do not know. I do not have to like it, though.”

  “Grady, raise the Banner of Light!” Taim called, and the Power made his voice boom. On flows of Air, Jur Grady lifted the crimson banner out of a surprised Dobraine’s hand and raised it all the way through the hole in the top of the dome. Fire burst around it and lightning flashed as brilliant red lifted amid the smoke billowing up from the burning wagons. Rand recognized a number of the men in black coats, but he knew only a few names aside from Jur’s. Damer and Fedwin and Eben, Jahar and Torval; of those, only Torval wore the Dragon on his collar.

  “Asha’man, form line of battle!” Taim boomed.

  Black-coated men rushed to place themselves between the barrier and everyone else, all of them except Jur and those watching Aes Sedai. Except for Nesune, who peered intently at everything, the Tower lot had sunk listlessly to their knees, not even looking at the men who had them shielded, and even Nesune still looked on the point of sicking up. The Salidar group stared coldly at the Asha’man guarding them for the most part, though now and then they turned those icy eyes on Rand. Alanna stared only at Rand. His skin was tingled faintly, he realized; for him to feel it at that distance, all nine must be embracing saidar. He hoped they had enough sense not to channel; the stony men facing them held saidin to bursting, and they looked as tense as the Warders fingering their swords.

  “Asha’man, raise the barricade two spans!” At Taim’s command, the edges of the dome rose all around. Surprised Shaido who had been pushing at what they could not see stumbled forward. They recovered instantly, a black-veiled mass surging forward, but they had time for only a stride before Taim’s next shout. “Asha’man, kill!”

  The front rank of the Shaido exploded. There was no other way to put it. Cadin’sor-clad shapes burst apart in sprays of blood and flesh. Flows of saidin reached through that thick mist, darting from figure to figure in the blink of an eye, and the next row of Shaido died, then the next, and the next, as though they were running into an enormous meat grinder. Staring at the slaughter, Rand swallowed. Perrin bent over to empty his stomach, and Rand understood fully. Another rank died. Nandera put a hand over her eyes, and Sulin turned her back. The bloody ruins of human beings began to make a wall.

  No one could stand up to that. Between one blast of death and the next, the Shaido in front were suddenly struggling the other way, forcing themselves back into the mass fighting to get forward. The milling tangle itself began to explode, and then all of them were falling back. No, running. The rain of fire and lightning against the dome faltered.

  “Asha’man,” Taim’s voice rang out, “rolling ring of Earth and Fire!”

  Beneath the feet of the Shaido nearest the wagons the ground suddenly erupted in fountains of flame and dirt, hurling men in every direction. While bodies still hung in the air, more gouts of flame roared from the ground, and more, in an expanding ring all the way around the wagons, pursuing the Shaido for fifty paces, a hundred, two hundred. There was nothing but panic and death out there now. Spears and bucklers were cast aside. The dome above stood clear except for the smoke rising from the burning wagons.

  “Stop!” The roar of explosions swallowed Rand’s shout as well as it did men’s screams. He wove the flows Taim had used. “Stop it, Taim!” His voice crashed like thunder over everything.

  One more ring of eruptions, and Taim called, “Asha’man, rest!”

  For a moment a deafening silence seemed to fill the air, Rand’s ears rang. Then he could hear screams and moans. Wounded heaved among the piles of dead. And beyond them the Shaido ran, leaving behind scattered clusters of siswai’aman and Maidens with red armcloths, Cairhienin and Mayeners, some still on their horses. Almost hesitantly those began to move toward the wagons, some of the Aiel lowering their veils. With Power enhancing his eyes, he could make out Rhuarc, limping, one arm dangling, but on his feet. And well beyond him, a large group of women in dark bulky skirts and pale blouses, with an escort of men in Two Rivers coats carrying longbows. They were too far for him to make out faces, but from the way the Two Rivers men at least were staring at the fleeing Shaido, they were as stunned as anyone else.

  A great sense of relief welled up inside Rand, though not enough to still the distant churning in his stomach. Min had her face pressed against his shirt; she was weeping. He smoothed her hair. “Asha’man” — he had never been more glad of the Void draining emotion from his voice — “you have done well. I congratulate you, Taim.” He turned away so he would not have to see the carnage anymore, hardly hearing the cheers of “Lord Dragon!” and “Asha’man!” that thundered from the black-coated men.

  When he turned, he found Aes Sedai. Merana was all the way at the back, but Alanna stood almost face-to-face with him beside two Aes Sedai he did not recognize.

  “You have done well,” the square-faced one of the pair said. A farmer, with an ageless face and eyes just holding on to serenity, ignoring the Asha’man around her. Obviously ignoring them. “I am Bera Harkin, and this is Kiruna Nachiman. We came to rescue you — with Alanna’s aid” — that was an obvious addition, at Alanna’s sudden frown — “though it seems you had small need of us. Still, intentions do count, and — ”

  “Your place is with them,” Rand said, pointing to the Aes Sedai shielded and under guard. Twenty-three, he saw, and Galina not among them. The buzzing of Lews Therin swelled, but he refused to listen. Now was no time for insane rages.

  Kiruna drew herself up proudly. Whatever she was, she was certainly no farmer. “You forget who we are. They may have mistreated you, but we — ”

  “I forget nothing, Aes Sedai,” Rand said coldly. “I said six could come, but I count nine. I said you would be on an equal footing with the Tower emissaries, and for bringing nine, you will be. They are on their knees, Aes Sedai. Kneel!”

  Coldly serene faces stared back at him. He felt Asha’man readying shields of Spirit. Defiance grew on Kiruna’s face, on Bera’s, on others. Two dozen black-coated men made a ring around Rand and the Aes Sedai.

  Taim appeared as close to a smile as Rand had ever seen him. “Kneel and swear to the Lord Dragon,” he said softly, “or you will be knelt.”

  As stories do, the tale spread, across Cairhien and north and south, by merchant train and peddler and simple traveler gossiping at an inn. As stories do, the tale changed with every telling. The Aiel had turned on the Dragon Reborn and killed him, at Dumai’s Wells or elsewhere. No, the Aes Sedai had saved Rand al’Thor. It was Aes Sedai who had killed him — no, gentled him — no, carried him to Tar Valon where he languished in a dungeon beneath the White Tower. Or else where the Amyrlin Seat herself knelt to him. Unusually for stories, it was something very close to truth that was most often believed.

  On a day of fire and blood, a tattered banner waved above Dumai’s Wells, bearing the ancient symbol of Aes Sedai.

  On a day of fire and blood and the One Power, as prophecy had suggested, the unstained tower, broken, bent knee to the forgotten sign.

  The first nine Aes Sedai swore fealty to the Dragon Reborn, and the world was changed forever.

  Epilogue

  The Answer

  * * *

  The man only paused long enough to rest his hand on the door of the sedan chair, and was away as soon as Falion took the
note from his fingers. Her rap had the two bearers moving almost before the fellow in Tarasin Palace livery stepped back into the crowd of the square.

  There was only one word on the small square of paper. Gone. She crumpled it in her fist. Somehow they had slipped out again without her people inside seeing. Months of futile search had convinced her there was no cache of angreal, whatever Moghedien believed. She had even considered putting a Wise Woman or two to the question; one of them might know its whereabouts, if it existed. And horses might fly. All that kept her here in this wretched city was the simple fact that when one of the Chosen gave a command, you obeyed until it was changed. Anything else was a short road to a painful death. Yet if Elayne and Nynaeve were here . . . They had ruined everything in Tanchico. Whether or not they really were full sisters — impossible as that seemed — Falion would not take their presence as coincidence. Maybe there was a cache. For the first time she was glad that Moghedien had ignored her since giving her her orders so many months ago in Amadicia. What had felt like abandonment might yet be a chance for advancement in the Chosen’s eyes. That pair might yet lead her to the cache, and if not, if there was no cache . . . Moghedien had seemed to have interest in Elayne and Nynaeve themselves. Delivering them would certainly be better than nonexistent angreal.

  Leaning back, she let the sway of the chair soothe her. She did hate this city — she had come here as a runaway, when she was a novice — but perhaps this visit would end pleasantly after all.

  Sitting in his study, Herid was peering into his pipe and wondering whether he had the means of lighting it at hand when the gholam squeezed under the door. Of course, even if Fel had been paying attention, he would not have believed, and once the gholam was inside the room, few men would have stood any chance.