A Memory of Light

“We are not staying?” he asked.

“There is too much happening,” Perrin said. “Time moves too slowly here. I don’t want the war to pass us by.”

Besides, there was still the matter of whatever Graendal was doing.

Considerations

I don’t like fighting beside those Seanchan,” Gawyn said softly, coming up beside Egwene.





CHAPTER


26


She didn’t like it either, and she knew he would be able to sense that from her. What could she say? She couldn’t turn the Seanchan away. The Shadow had brought the Sharans to fight under its banner. Egwene, therefore, would have to use what she had. Anything she had.

Her neck itched as she crossed the field to the meeting place about a mile or so east of the ford in Arafel. Bryne had already arrayed most of her forces at the ford. Aes Sedai could be seen atop the hil s just south of the ford, and large squadrons of archers and pikemen were positioned below them on the slopes. The troops were feeling fresher. The days Egwene’s force had spent retreating had relieved some of the pressure of warfare, despite attempts by the enemy to make them commit to combat.

Egwene’s chances depended on the Seanchan joining the battle and engaging the Sharan channelers. Her stomach twisted. She had once heard that in Caemlyn, unscrupulous men would throw starving dogs into a pit together and bet on which one would survive the ensuing fight. This felt the same to her. The Seanchan damane were not free women; they could not choose to fight. From what she’d seen of the Sharan male channelers, they were little more than animals themselves.

Egwene should be fighting the Seanchan with every breath, not al ying with them. Her instincts rebel ed as she approached the gathering of Seanchan. The Seanchan leader demanded this audience with Egwene. The Light send it would be quick.

Egwene had received reports on this Fortuona, so she knew what to expect. The diminutive Seanchan Empress stood atop a small platform, watching the battle preparations. She wore a glittering dress whose train extended a ridiculous distance behind her, carried by eight da’covale, those servants in the horribly immodest clothing. Various members of the Blood stood in groups, waiting with careful poses. Deathwatch Guards, hulking in their near-black armor, stood like boulders around the Empress.

Egwene approached, guarded by her own soldiers and much of the Hal of the Tower.

Fortuona had first tried to insist that Egwene come to visit her in her camp. Egwene had, of course, refused. It had taken hours to reach an agreement. Both would come to this location in Arafel, and both would stand rather than sit so that neither could give the impression of being above the other. Still, Egwene was irritated to find the woman waiting. She’d wanted to time this meeting so they both arrived at the same moment.

Fortuona turned from the battle preparations and looked at Egwene. It appeared that many of Siuan’s reports were false. True, Fortuona did look something like a child, with that slight build and delicate features. Those similarities were minor. No child had ever had eyes so discerning, so calculating. Egwene revised her expectations. She’d imagined Fortuona as a spoiled adolescent, the product of a coddled lifetime.

“I have considered,” Fortuona said, “whether it would be appropriate to speak to you in person, with my own voice.”

Nearby, several of the Seanchan Blood—with their painted fingernails and partially shaved heads—gasped. Egwene ignored them. They stood near several pairs of suVdam and damane. If she let those pairs draw her attention, her temper might get the better of her.

“I have considered myself,” Egwene said, “whether it would be appropriate to speak to one such as yourself, who has committed such terrible atrocities.”

“I have decided that I will speak to you,” Fortuona continued, ignoring Egwene’s remark. “I think that, for the time, it would be better if I see you not as marath’damane, but as a queen among the people of this land.”

“No,” Egwene said. “You will see me for what I am, woman. I demand it.” Fortuona pursed her lips. “Very well,” she finally said. “I have spoken to damane before; training them has been a hobby of mine. To see you as such does not violate protocol, as the Empress may speak with her pet hounds.” “Then I wil speak with you directly as well,” Egwene said, keeping her face impassive. “For the Amyrlin judges many trials. She must be able to speak to murderers and rapists in order to pass sentence upon them. I think you would be at home in their company, though I suspect they would find you nauseating.”