A Memory of Light

Troops marched past, officers shouting orders in time to the steps. The raken calls seemed timed to the beats of the fal ing feet. This was what she would be leaving for an unknown war in lands she barely knew. Her lands here would be virtually undefended, a foreigner of newly minted loyalty in command.

Great change. Her decisions could end her rule and, indeed, the Empire itself. Matrim did not understand that.

Summon my consort, Fortuona signed, tapping the armrest of her throne.

Selucia Voiced the order to a messenger. After a short time, Mat rode up on his horse. He had refused the gift of a new one, with good reason. He had a better eye for horseflesh than the Imperial stablemaster herself. Still. Pips. What a silly name.

Fortuona stood up. Immediately, those nearby bowed. Galgan dismounted and went down on his knees. Everyone else prostrated themselves to the ground. The Empress standing to proclaim meant an act of the Crystal Throne.

“Blood and ashes,” Matrim said. “More bowing? Have you folks nothing better to do? I could think of a few dozen things, if you cant.”

To the side, she saw Galgan smile. He thought he knew what she was going to do. He was wrong.

“I name you Knotai, for you are a bringer of destruction to the Empire’s enemies. Let your new name only be spoken from now into eternity, Knotai. I proclaim that Knotai, Prince of the Ravens, is to be given the rank of Rodholder in our armies. Let it be published as my wil .”

Rodholder. It meant that should Galgan fall, Mat would have command. Galgan was no longer smiling. He would have to keep watch over his shoulder lest Mat overcome him and take control.

Fortuona sat down.

“Knotai?” Knotai said.

She glared at him. Keep your tongue, for once, she thought at him. Please.

“I kind of like it,” Knotai said, turning his horse and trotting away.

Galgan regained his saddle. “He will need to learn to kneel,” the general muttered, then kicked his horse forward.

It was an ever-so-small offense, deliberate and calculating. Galgan had not addressed the words to Fortuona directly, instead acting as if they were just a comment to himself. He sidestepped cal ing her Greatest One.

It was enough to make Selucia growl softly and wiggle her fingers in a question.

No, Fortuona signed, we need him.

Once again, Knotai did not seem to realize what she had done, and the risk inherent in it.

Galgan would have to consult with him on their battle plans; the Rodholder could not be left out of meetings, as he had to be ready to take control at any moment. Galgan would have to listen to his advice and incorporate it.

She bet upon her prince in this, hoping that he could manifest again the unexpected genius in battle that had so impressed Furyk Karede.

This is bold, Selucia said. But what if he fails?

We will not fail, Fortuona replied, for this is the Last Battle.

The Pattern had placed Knotai before her, had shoved her into his arms. The Dragon Reborn had seen and spoken truth about her—for all the illusion of order, her rule was like a heavy rock balanced on its smal est point. She was stretched thin, reigning over lands unaccustomed to discipline. She needed to take great risks to bring order to chaos.

She hoped that Selucia would see it that way and not publicly denounce her. Fortuona real y would need to find a new Voice or appoint someone else as Truthspeaker. Having one person fill both roles was drawing criticism in court. It— Knotai suddenly came riding back, holding to his hat. “Tuon!”

Why is it so hard for him to understand names? Selucia asked with a wiggle of her fingers.

Fortuona could almost read the sigh in those motions. “Knotai?” Fortuona asked. “You may approach.”

“Bloody good,” Knotai said, “since I’m already here. Tuon, we need to move now. The scouts just came back. Egwene’s army is in trouble.”

Yulan rode up just behind Knotai, then dismounted and bowed himself ful to the ground.

“Rise,” Fortuona said. “Is this true?”

“The army of the marathdamane has suffered a grave defeat,” Yulan said. “The returning Fists of Heaven describe it in detail. This Amyrlin’s armies are scattered, in turmoil, and retreating at speed.”

Galgan had stopped nearby to receive a messenger, no doubt being given a similar report.

The general looked at her.

“We should move in to support Egwene’s retreat,” Knotai said. “I don’t know what a Rodholder is, but from how everyone’s reacting, I think it means I have control of the armies.”

“No,” Fortuona said. “You are third. Behind me. Behind Galgan.” “Then you can order a move right now,” Knotai said. “We need to go! Egwene is getting stomped.”

“How many marathdamane are there?” Fortuona asked.

“We have been watching this army,” Yulan said. “There are hundreds. The entirety of the White Tower that remains. They are exhausted, being driven forth by a new force, one we do not recognize.”

“Tuon . . .” Mat warned.