A Memory of Light

“The worst one,” Aviendha said.

“So we plan to hold out as long as the Dragon needs,” Ituralde said. “Days, weeks, months . . . years? As long as it takes.”

Rhuarc nodded slowly. “What do you suggest?”

“The pass into the val ey is narrow,” Ituralde said. “Scout reports put most of the Shadowspawn left in the Blight out beyond the pass there. Even they spend as little time as they can in this forsaken place. If we can close off the pass and seize this valley—destroy those forgeworkers and the few Fades down there—we could hold this place for ages. You Aiel are good at slash-and-run tactics. Burn me, but I know that from personal experience.

You lot attack that forge, and we’l set about closing up the pass.”

Rhuarc nodded. “It is a good plan.”

The four of them walked down the ridge to where Rand waited, dressed in red and gold, arms behind his back, accompanied by a force of twenty Maidens and six Asha’man, plus Nynaeve and Moiraine. He seemed very troubled by something—she could feel his anxiety—though he should have

been pleased. He had convinced the Seanchan to fight. What was it that, in his meeting with Egwene al’Vere, had disturbed him so?

Rand turned and looked upward, toward the peak of Shayol Ghul. Staring at it, his emotions changed. He seemed a man looking at a fountain in the Three-fold Land, savoring the idea of cool water. Aviendha could feel his anticipation. There was also fear in him, of course. No warrior ever rid himself completely of the fear. He control ed it, overwhelmed it with the thirst to be on with the fight, to test himself.

Men or women could not know themselves, not truly, until they were strained to their absolute limit. Until they danced the spears with death, felt their blood seeping out to stain the ground, and drove the weapon home into the beating heart of an enemy. Rand al’Thor wanted this, and she understood him because of it. Strange to realize, after al of this time, just how alike they were.

She stepped up to him, and he moved so that he stood just beside her, his shoulder touching hers. He did not drape an arm around her, and she did not take his hand. He did not own her, and she did not own him. The act of his movement so that they faced the same direction meant far more to her than any other gesture could.

“Shade of my heart,” he said softly, watching his Asha’man open a gateway, “what did you see?”

“A tomb,” she replied.

“Mine?”

“No. That of your enemy. The place where he was buried once, and the place he wil slumber again.”

Something hardened inside Rand. She could feel it, his resolve.

“You mean to kill him,” Aviendha whispered. “Sightblinder himself.”

“Yes.”

She waited.

“Others tel me I am a fool for thinking this,” Rand said. His guards moved through the gateway to return to Merrilor.

“No warrior should enter a battle without intending to see that battle finished,” Aviendha said. She hesitated after saying it, something else occurring to her.

“What is it?” Rand asked.

“Well, the greatest victory would be to take your enemy gai’shain.”

“I doubt he would submit to that,” Rand said.

“Don’t make jest,” she said, elbowing him in the side, earning a grunt. “This must be considered, Rand al’Thor. Which is the better way of ji’e’toh?

Is imprisoning the Dark One like taking him gai’shain? If so, that would be the proper path.”

“I’m not certain I care what is proper’ this time, Aviendha.”

I “A warrior must always consider ji’e’toh,” she said sternly. “Have I taught you nothing? Do not speak like that, or you will shame me again before the other Wise Ones.”

“I had hoped that—considering how our relationship has progressed—we would be through with the lectures, Aviendha.”

“You thought that growing closer to me would end the lectures?” she asked, baffled. Rand al’Thor, I have been among wetlander wives, and I’ve seen that they—”

He shook his head, leading the way through the gateway, Aviendha fol owing. He seemed amused, and that was good. Some of his anxiety had faded. But truly, this was not a jest.

Wetlanders did not have good senses of humor. Sometimes, they did not understand at al when to laugh.

On the other side of the gateway, they entered a camp made up of many groups. Rand had command of the Maidens and the siswai’aman, along with most of the Wise Ones.