A Memory of Light

The tent stil ed. Sitters looked to one another with worried faces. “General,” Egwene said to Bryne, “how was it that you sent two cavalry units to protect us from the Trol ocs on the hil s south of here, sending them into a trap and leaving the main army’s left flank exposed?”


“How was it, Mother?” Bryne asked. “It was obvious that you were about to be overrun, anyone could see that. Yes, I had them leave the left flank, but I moved the Il ianer reserves into that position. When I saw that Sharan cavalry unit split off to attack Uno’s right flank, I sent the Il ianers out to intercept them; it was the right thing to do. I didn’t know there would be so many Sharans!” His voice had raised to a shout, but he stopped, and his hands were trembling. “I made a mistake. I’m not perfect, Mother.” “This was more than a mistake,” Faiselle said. “I have just returned from speaking with Uno and the other survivors of that cavalry massacre. Uno said he could smell a trap as soon as he and his men started riding toward the sisters, but that you had promised him help.”

“I told you, I sent him reinforcements, I just didn’t expect the Sharans would send such a large force. Besides, I had it all under control. I had ordered up a Seanchan cavalry legion to reinforce our troops; they were supposed to take care of those Sharans. I had them staged across the river. I just didn’t expect them to be so late!”

“Yes,” Egwene said, hardening her voice. “Those men—so many thousands of them—were crushed between the Trol ocs and the Sharans, with no hope for escape. You lost them, and all for no good reason.”

“I had to bring the Aes Sedai out!” Bryne said. “They’re our most valuable resource. Pardon, Mother; but you have made that same point to me.” “The Aes Sedai could have waited,”

Saerin said. “I was there. Yes, we needed out—we were being pressed—but we held, and could have held longer.

“You left thousands of good men to die, General Bryne. And you know the worst part? It was unnecessary. You left al those Seanchan across the ford here, the ones who were going to save the day, waiting for your order to attack. But that order never came, did it, General?

You abandoned them, just like you abandoned our cavalry.”

“But I ordered them to attack; they final y went in, didn’t they? I sent a messenger. I .. I .. ”

“No. If it wasn’t for Mat Cauthon, they would still be waiting on this side of the river, General!” Egwene turned away from him.

“Egwene,” Gawyn said, taking her arm. “What are you saying? Just because—”

Bryne raised a hand to his head. Then he sagged, as if suddenly his limbs had lost their strength. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he whispered, sounding hol ow. “I keep making mistakes, Mother. They are the kind a man can recover from, and I keep telling myself that. Then I make another mistake, and there is more scrambling to fix it.”

“You’re just tired,” Gawyn said, voice pained, looking to him. “We all are.”

“No,” Bryne said softly. “No, it’s more than that. I’ve been tired before. This is like . . . my instincts are suddenly wrong. I give the orders, then afterward, I see the holes, the problems.

I ...”

“Compulsion,” Egwene said, feeling cold. “You’ve been Compelled. They’re attacking our great captains.”

Several women in the room embraced the Source.

“How would that be possible?” Gawyn protested. “Egwene, we have sisters watching the camp for signs of channeling!”

“I don’t know how it happened,” Egwene said. “Perhaps it was put in place months ago, before the battle began.” She turned to the Sitters. “I move that the Hal relieve Gareth Bryne as commander of our armies. It is your decision, Sitters.”

“Light,” Yukiri said. “We . . . Light!”

“It must be done,” Doesine said. “It is a clever move, a way to destroy our armies without us seeing the trap. We should have seen . . . The great captains should have been better protected.”

“Light!” Faiselle said. “We need to send word to Lord Mandragoran and to Thakan’dar! This could involve them, too—an attempt to bring down al four battlefronts at once in a coordinated attack.”

“I will see it done,” Saerin said, moving toward the tent flaps. “For now, I agree with Mother. Bryne must be relieved.”

One by one, the others nodded. It was not a formal vote in the Hal , but it would do. Beside the table, Gareth Bryne sat down. Poor man. He was no doubt shaken, worried.

Unexpectedly, he smiled.

“General?” Egwene asked.

“Thank you,” Bryne said, looking relaxed.

“For what?”

“I feared I was losing my mind, Mother. I kept seeing what I’d done . . .

I left thousands of men to die . . . but it wasn’t me. It wasn’t me.”

“Egwene,” Gawyn said. He covered his pain well. “The army. If Bryne has been forced to lead us toward danger, we need to change our command structure immediately.”

“Bring in my commanders,” Bryne said. “I will relinquish control to them.”