A Memory of Light

Mat lowered both hands, but took his sweet time at it, as if completely unconcerned. “The people of this world need you two, and they need you levelheaded, you hear me? This is bigger than any of us. When you fight each other, the Dark One wins, and that is that. So stop behaving like children.”


“We will have many words about this tonight, Knotai,” Fortuona said. “I love words,” Mat said. “There are some deliciously pretty words out there. ‘Smile.’ That’s always sounded like a pretty word to me. Don’t you think? Or, perhaps, the words ‘I promise not to kil Egwene right now for trying to touch me, the Empress, may I live forever, because we really bloody need her for the next couple of weeks or so.’ ” He eyed Fortuona pointedly. “You really married him?” Egwene said to Fortuona. “Honestly?”

“It was .. an unusual event,” Fortuona replied. She shook herself, then glared at Egwene.

“He is mine and I do not intend to release him.”

“You don’t seem the type to release anything, once you have your hands on it,” Egwene said.

“Matrim does not interest me at the moment; your army does. Will you fight, or won’t you?”

“I will fight,” Fortuona said. “But my army is not subject to you. Have your general send us suggestions. We will consider them. But I can see you are going to have a difficult time defending the ford against the invader without a larger number of your marattidamane. I will send you some of my suldam and damane to protect your army. That is all I will do for now.” She started walking back toward her people. “Come, Knotai.”

“I don’t know how you fel into this,” Egwene said under her breath to Mat. “I don’t want to know. I’l do what I can to help free you, once we are done fighting.”

“That’s kind of you, Egwene,” Mat said. “But I can handle this on my own.” He rushed off after Fortuona.

That was what he always said. She’d find some way to help him. She shook her head, returning to where Gawyn waited for her. Leilwin had declined to come, though Egwene would have expected her to enjoy seeing some of those from her homeland.

“We’ll need to keep them at arm’s length,” Gawyn said softly.

“Agreed,” Egwene said.

“You’l stil fight alongside the Seanchan, despite what they’ve done?” “So long as they keep the Sharan channelers occupied, yes.” Egwene looked toward the horizon—toward Rand, and the powerful struggle he must be embroiled in. “Our options are limited, Gawyn, and our allies dwindling. For now, whoever is willing to kill Trollocs is a friend. That is that.”

The Andoran line buckled, and Trol ocs ripped through, snarling beasts with stinking breath that clouded in the chill air. Elayne’s halberdiers nearby scrambled as they fell over themselves to escape. The first few Trollocs ignored them, howling and leaping over them to make room for more to pour through the opening, like dark blood from a gash in the flesh.

Elayne tried to gather what little strength she had left. She felt as if saidar would slip from her at any moment, but the men fighting and dying wouldn’t be any stronger than she at this point. They’d al been fighting for most of the day.

Somehow finding the strength to weave, she roasted the first few Trollocs with balls of fire, tripping up the flow through the wound in the human lines. Streaks of white, arrows from Birgitte’s bow, followed. Trollocs gurgled, clawing at their necks where the arrows hit.

Elayne sent strike after strike from horseback, tired hands clinging to the saddle as she blinked eyes that seemed leaden. Dead Trol ocs toppled, forming like a scab over the hole, blocking the others from ripping through. Reserve troops stumbled up, seizing ground and pushing the Trol ocs back.

Elayne breathed out, wavering. Light! She felt as if she’d been forced to run around Caemlyn while pulling lead weights. She could barely sit upright, let alone hold the One Power. Her vision dimmed, then darkened further. Sound faded in her ears. Then . . . darkness.

Sound came back first. Distant yells, clangs. A very faint horn. The howls of the Trollocs.

Occasional thundering from the dragons. Those aren’t firing as often, she thought. Aludra had moved to a rhythm in her firing. Bashere would pull back one section of troops and let them rest. The Trol ocs would pour through, and the dragons would bombard them for a short time. As the Trollocs tried to crawl up and destroy the dragons, cavalry would come in and smash them at the flanks.

It killed a lot of Trollocs. That was their job . . . kill Trollocs . . .

Too slow, she thought. Too slow . . .

Elayne found herself on the ground, Birgitte’s worried face hovering above her.

“Oh, Light?” Elayne mumbled. “Did I fall off?”

“We caught you in time,” Birgitte muttered. “You slumped into our arms. Come on, we’re pulling back.”

“I . . .”

Birgitte raised an eyebrow at her, waiting for the argument.

It was hard to make one, lying on her back mere paces from the front lines. Saidar had fled her, and she probably couldn’t take hold of it again if her life depended on it. “Yes,” she said.