Knife of Dreams twot-11

by Robert Jordan

  Rand hastily stuffed it into a pocket of his own coat against the rain. Ink ran easily. “Thank you, but it could have waited till I returned to the house. Best you get back inside before you’re soaked through completely.”

  “She did say straightaway, my Lord Dragon.” The fellow sounded offended. “She is Aes Sedai.”

  At Rand’s nod, he bowed again and started slowly back toward the manor house, his back stiff with pride, the parasol showering him with streams of water. She was Aes Sedai. Everyone hopped for Aes Sedai, even in Tear, where they were not much liked. What did Verin have to say that she needed to put in a letter? Thumbing the seal, Rand walked on.

  His destination was one of the barns, its thatched roof partially blackened. This was the barn the Trollocs had gotten into. A burly fellow in a rough brown coat and muddy boots, leaning against a jamb in the open doors, straightened and for some reason hastily looked inside over his shoulder as Rand approached, the Maidens spreading out to surround the barn.

  He stopped dead in the doorway. Min and the others halting beside him. Logain growled an oath. A pair of lanterns hanging from uprights that supported the loft gave a dim light, enough to see that every single surface was thick with crawling flies, even the straw-covered dirt floor. As many more buzzed around in the air, it seemed.

  “Where did they come from?” Rand asked. Algarin might not be wealthy, yet his barns and stables were kept as clean as such places could be. The burly man gave a guilty start. He was younger than most of the servants in the house, but his head was bald halfway back, and creases bracketed his wide mouth, fanned out from his eyes.

  “Don’t know, my Lord,’’ he muttered, knuckling his forehead with a grimy hand. He focused on Rand so hard that it was plain he did not want to look into the barn. “I stepped to the door for a breath of fresh, and when I turned around, they was all over everything. I thought… I thought maybe they’s dead flies.”

  Rand shook his head in disgust. These flies were all too alive. Not every Saldaean defending this barn had died, but all of the Saldaean dead had been gathered here. Saldaeans disliked burials in rain. None of them could say why. but you just did not bury people while it was raining. Nineteen men lay in a neat row on the floor, as neat as it could be when some were missing limbs or had their heads split open. But they had been laid out carefully by their friends and companions, their faces washed, their eyes closed. They were why he had come there. Not to say goodbye or anything sentimental; he had not known any of these men more than to recognize a face here and there. He had come to remind himself that even what seemed a complete victory had its cost in blood. Still, they deserved better than to be crawling with flies.

  I need no reminders, Lews Therin growled.

  I’m not you. Rand thought. I have to harden myself. “Logain, get rid of these bloody things!” he said aloud.

  You’re harder than I ever was, Lews Therin said. Suddenly he giggled. If you’re not me, then who are you?

  “Now I’m a flaming fly-whisk?” Logain muttered.

  Rand rounded on him angrily, but Alivia spoke in that slurred drawl before he could get a word out.

  “Let me try, my Lord.” She asked, in a manner of speaking, but like an Aes Sedai, she did not await permission. His skin tingled with goose bumps as she embraced saidar and channeled.

  Flies always took shelter from even the lightest rain because one raindrop was enough to put a fly on the ground, easy prey until its wings dried off, yet suddenly the doorway was billowing with buzzing flies as if the rain were far preferable to the barn. The air seemed solid with them. Rand batted flies away from his face, and Min covered her face with her hands, the bond heavy with distaste, but they were interested only in flight. In moments, they were all gone. The balding man, staring at Alivia with his mouth hanging open, suddenly coughed and spat out two flies onto his hand. Cadsuane gave him a look that snapped his mouth shut and sent his rough knuckle flying to his forehead. Just a look, yet she was who she was.

  “So you watch,” she said to Alivia. Her dark eyes were fixed on the Seanchan woman’s face, but Alivia did not start or stammer. She was much less impressed by Aes Scdai than most people.

  “And remember what I see. I must learn somehow if I am to help the Lord Dragon. I have learned more than you are aware of.” Min made a sound in her throat, very nearly a growl, and the bond swelled with anger, but the yellow-haired woman ignored her. “You are not angry with me?” she asked Rand, her voice anxious.

  “I’m not angry. Learn as much as you can. You’re doing very well.”

  She blushed and dropped her eyes like a girl startled by an unexpected compliment. Fine lines decorated the corners of her eyes, but sometimes it was hard to remember that she was a hundred years older than any living Aes Sedai, rather than half a dozen years younger than himself. He had to find someone to teach her more.

  “Rand al’Thor,” Min said angrily, folding her arms beneath her breasts, “you are not going to let that woman-”

  “Your viewings are never wrong,” he broke in. “What you see always happens. You’ve tried to change things, and it never worked. You told me so yourself, Min. What makes you think this time can be different?”

  “Because it has to be different.” she told him fiercely. She leaned toward him as though ready to launch herself at him. “Because I want it to be different. Because it will be different. Anyway, I don’t know about everything I’ve seen. People move on. I was wrong about Moiraine. I saw all sorts of things in her future, and she’s dead. Maybe some of the other things I saw never came true either.”

  I must not be different this time. Lews Therin panted. You promised!

  A faint scowl appeared on Logain’s face, and he shook his head slightly. He could not like hearing Min question her ability. Rand almost regretted telling him about her viewing of him, though it had seemed harmless encouragement at the time. The man had actually asked Aes Seclai to confirm Min’s ability, though he had been wise enough to try to keep his doubting from Rand.

  “I cannot see what makes this young woman so vehement for you, boy,” Cadsuane mused. She pursed her lips in thought, then shook her head, ornaments swaying. “Oh, you re pretty enough, I suppose, but I just cannot see it.”

  To avoid another argument with Min-she did not call them that; she called them “talking,” but he knew the difference-Rand took out Verin’s letter and broke the blob of yellow sealing wax impressed with the head of a Great Serpent ring. The Brown sister’s spidery hand covered most of the page, a few letters blotted where raindrops had soaked the paper. He walked closer to the nearest lantern. It gave off a faint stink of spoiled oil.

  As I said, I have done what I can do here. I believe that I can fulfill my oath to you better elsewhere, so I have taken Tomas and gone to be about it. There are many ways to serve you, after all, and many needs. I am convinced that you can trust Cadsuane, and you certainly should heed her advice, but be wary of other sisters, including those who have sworn fealty to you. Such an oath means nothing to a Black sister, and even those who walk in the Light may interpret it in ways you would disapprove of. You already know that few see that oath as invoking absolute obedience in all things. Some may find other holes. So whether or not you follow Cadsuane’s advice. and I repeat that you should, follow mine. Be very wary.

  It was signed simply, “Verin.”

  He grunted sourly. Few thought the oath meant absolute obedience? It was more like none. They obeyed, usually, yet the letter was not always the spirit. Take Verin herself. She warned him against the others doing things he might disapprove of, but she had not said where she was going or what she intended to do there. Was she afraid he might not approve? Maybe it was just Aes Sedai concealment. Sisters kept secrets as naturally as they breathed.

  When he held out the letter to Cadsuane, her left eyebrow twitched slightly. She must have been truly startled to show so much, but she took the letter and held it where the lantern’s light illuminated it.
r />   “A woman of many masks,” she said finally, handing the page back. “But she gives good advice here.”

  What did she mean about masks? He was about to ask her when Loial and Elder Haman suddenly appeared in the doorway, each carrying a long-handled axe, with an ornately decorated head, on his shoulder. The white-haired Ogier’s tufted ears were laid back, his face grim, and Loial’s ears were flickering. With excitement, Rand guessed. It could be difficult to tell.

  “I trust we are not interrupting?” Elder Haman said, his ears rising as he looked sadly at the line of bodies.

  “You are not,” Rand told him. sticking the letter back in his pocket. “I wish I could come to your wedding, Loial, but-”

  “Oh, that’s done, Rand,” Loial said. He must be excited: it was unlike him to interrupt. “My mother insisted. There won’t even be time for much of a wedding feast, maybe none, what with the Stump and me having to-” The older Ogier laid a hand on his arm. “What?” Loial said, looking at him. “Oh. Yes. Of course. Well.” He scrubbed under his broad nose with a finger the size of a fat sausage.

  Something he was not supposed to be told? Even Ogier had secrets, it seemed. Rand fingered the letter in his pocket. But then, so did everyone else.

  “I promise you this, Rand,” Loial said. “Whatever happens, I will be there with you at Tarmon Gai’don. Whatever happens.”

  “My boy,” Elder Haman murmured, “I don’t think you should…” He trailed off. shaking his head and rumbling under his breath, like a distant earthquake.

  Rand crossed the straw in three strides and offered his right hand. Smiling widely, and with an Ogier that meant very wide, Loial took it in a hand that enveloped his. This close, Rand had to crane his neck to look up at his friend’s face. “Thank you, Loial. I can’t tell you how much hearing that means to me. But I’ll need you before then.”

  “You… need me?”

  “Loial, I’ve sealed the Waygates I know, in Caemlyn and Cairhien, Illian and Tear, and I put a very nasty trap on the one that was cut open near Fal Dara, but I couldn’t find the one near Far Madding. Even when I know there’s a Waygate actually in a city, I can’t find it by myself, and then there are all those cities that don’t exist anymore. I need you to find the rest for me, Loial, or Trollocs will be able to flood into every country at once, and no one will know they’re coming until they’re in the heart of Andor or Cairhien.”

  Loial’s smile vanished. His ears trembled and his eyebrows drew down till the ends lay on his cheeks. “I can’t. Rand,” he said mournfully. “I must leave first thing tomorrow morning, and I don’t know when I’ll be able to come Outside again.”

  “I know you’ve been out of the stedding a long time, Loial.” Rand tried to make his voice gentle, but it came out hard. Gentleness seemed a fading memory. “I’ll speak to your mother. I’ll convince her to let you leave after you’ve had a little rest.”

  “He needs more than a little rest.” Elder Haman planted the butt of his axe haft on the floor, gripping the axe with both hands, and directed a stern look at Rand. Ogier were peaceful folk, yet he looked anything but. “He has been Outside more than five years, far too long. He needs weeks of rest in a stedding at the least. Months would be better.”

  “My mother doesn’t make those decisions anymore, Rand. Though truth to tell, I think she’s still surprised to realize it. Erith does. My wife.’ His booming voice put so much pride into that word that he seemed ready to burst with it. His chest certainly swelled, and his smile split his face in two.

  “And I haven’t even congratulated you.” Rand said, clapping him on the shoulder. His attempt at heartiness sounded false in his own ears, but it was the best he could manage. “If you need months, then months you shall have. But I still need an Ogier to find those Way-gates. In the morning, I’ll take you all to Stedding Shangtai myself. Maybe I can convince someone there to do the job.” Elder Haman shifted his frown to his hands on the axe haft and began muttering again, too softly to make out words, like a bumblebee the size of a huge mastiff buzzing in an immense jar in the next room. He seemed to be arguing with himself.

  “That might take time.” Loial said doubtfully. “You know we don’t like to make hasty decisions. I’m not certain they will even let a human into the stedding, because of the Stump. Rand? If I can’t come back before the Last Battle… You will answer my questions about what happened while I was in the stedding, won’t you? I mean, without making me drag everything out of you?”

  “If I can, I will,” Rand told him.

  If you can, Lews Therin snarled. You agreed we could finally die at Tar-mon Gai’don. You agreed, madman!

  “He’ll answer questions to your heart’s delight, Loial,” Min said firmly, “if I have to stand over him the whole while.” Anger suffused the bond. She really did seem to know what he was thinking.

  Elder Haman cleared his throat. “It seems to me that I myself am more accustomed to Outside than almost anyone except the stonemasons. Um. Yes. In fact, I think I am likely to be the best candidate for your task.”

  “Phaw!” Cadsuane said. “It seems you infect even Ogier, boy.” Her tone was stern, but her face was all Aes Sedai composure, unreadable, hiding whatever was passing behind those dark eyes.

  Loial’s ears went rigid with shock, and he almost dropped his axe. fumbling to catch it. “You? But the Stump, Elder Haman! The Great Stump!”

  “I believe I can safely leave that in your hands, my boy. Your words were simple yet eloquent. Um. Um. My advice is, don’t try for beauty. Keep the simple eloquence, and you may surprise quite a few. Including your mother.’’

  It seemed impossible that Loial’s ears could grow any stiffer. but they did. His mouth moved, but no words came out. So he was to speak to the Stump. What was so secret about that?

  “My Lord Dragon, Lord Davram has returned.” It was Elza Penfell who escorted Bashere into the barn. She was a handsome woman in a dark green riding dress; her brown eyes seemed to grow feverish when they found Rand. She, at least, was one he did not have to worry about. Elza was fanatical in her devotion.

  “Thank you. Elza.” he said. “Best you return to help with the cleanup. There’s a long way to go. yet.”

  Her mouth tightened slightly, and her gaze took in everyone from Cadsuane to the Ogier with an air of jealousy before she offered a curtsy and left. Yes, fanatical was the word.

  Bashere was a short, slender man in a gold-worked gray coat with the ivory baton of the Marshal-General of Saldaea, tipped with a golden wolfs head, tucked behind his belt opposite his sword. His baggy trousers were tucked into turned-down boots that had been waxed till they shone despite a light splattering of mud. His recent work had required as much formality and dignity as he could supply, and he could supply a great deal. Even the Seanchan must have heard his reputation by now. Gray streaked his black hair and the thick mustaches that curled around his mouth like down-turned horns. Dark tilted eyes sad, he walked right past Rand with the rolling gait of a man more accustomed to a saddle than his own feet, walked slowly along the line of dead men, staring intently at each face. Impatient as Rand was, he gave him his time to mourn.

  “I’ve never seen anything like what’s outside,” Bashere said quietly as he walked. “A big raid out of the Blight is a thousand Trollocs. Most are only a few hundred. Ah, Kirkun. you never did guard your left the way you should. Even then, you need to outnumber them three or four times to be assured you won’t go into their cookpots. Out there… I think I saw a foreshadowing of Tarmon Gai’don. A small part of Tar-mon Gai’don. Let’s hope it really is the Last Battle. If we live through that, I don’t think we’ll ever want to see another. We will, though. There’s always another battle. I suppose that will be the case until the whole world turns Tinker.’’ At the end of the row. he stopped in front of a man whose lace was split almost down to his luxuriant black beard. “Ahzkan here had a bright future ahead of him. But you could say the same of a lot of dead men.”

  S
ighing heavily, he turned to face Rand. “The Daughter of the Nine Moons will meet you in three days at a manor house in northern Altara, near the border of Andor.” He touched the breast of his coat. “I have a map. She’s already near there somewhere, but they say it isn’t in lands they control. When it comes to secrecy, these Seanchan make Aes Sedai look as open as village girls.” Cadsuane snorted.

  “You suspect a trap?” Logain eased his sword in its scabbard, perhaps unconsciously.

  Bashere made a dismissive gesture, but he eased his sword, too. “I always suspect a trap. It isn’t that. The High Lady Suroth still didn’t want me or Manfor to talk to anyone but her. Not anyone. Our servants were mutes, just as when we went to Ebou Dar with Loial.”

  “Mine had had her tongue cut out,” Loial said in tones of disgust, his ears tilting back. His knuckles paled on the haft of his axe. Haman made a shocked sound, his ears going stiff as fence posts.

  “Altara just crowned a new King,” Bashere went on, “but everybody in the Tarasin Palace seemed to be walking on eggshells and looking over their shoulders, Seanchan and Altaran alike. Even Suroth looked as though she felt a sword hovering above her neck.”

  “Maybe they’re frightened of Tarmon Gai’don,” Rand said. “Or the Dragon Reborn. I’ll have to be careful. Frightened people do stupid things. What are the arrangements, Bashere?”

  The Saldaean pulled the map from inside his coat and walked back to Rand unfolding it. “They’re very precise. She will bring six sul’dam and damane, but no other attendants.” Alivia made a noise like an angry cat, and he blinked before going on. no doubt uncertain of a freed damane, to say the least. “You can bring five people who can channel. She’ll assume any man with you can. but you can bring a woman who can’t to make the honors even.”

  Min was suddenly at Rand’s side, wrapping her arm around his.

  “No,” he said firmly. He was not about to take her into a possible trap.

  “We’ll talk about it,” she murmured, the bond filling with stubborn resolve.