A Memory of Light

Galad caught his breath, his head back, pain radiating from the impact of the rock. He groaned, sitting up. Nearby, his men hacked at the third Sharan woman’s body. They didn’t need to be so thorough, but some Children had strange ideas about what Aes Sedai could do.

He’d caught Laird cutting off one of the Sharan women’s heads to bury it separate from the body. Unless you did that, Laird claimed, they would return to life at the next full moon.

As the men butchered the other two corpses, Golever came over and offered Galad a hand.

“Light burn me,” Golever said, a wide grin splitting his bearded face, “if this isn’t the finest work we’ve ever done, my Lord Captain Commander, I don’t know what is!”

Galad stood up. “It is what must be done, Child Golever.”

“I wish it had to be done more often! This is what the Children have awaited for centuries.

You are the first to deliver it. The Light illumine you, Galad Damodred. The Light illumine you!”

“May the Light illumine a day when men need not kill at all,” Galad said tiredly. “It is not fitting to take joy in death.”

“Of course, my Lord Captain Commander.” Golever continued grinning.

Galad looked across the bloody pandemonium of the western slope of the Heights. The Light send Cauthon could make some sense of this battle, for Galad certainly could not.

“Lord Captain Commander!” a frightened voice cried.

Galad spun about, hand on his sword. It was Alhanra, one of his scouts.

“What is it, Child Alhanra?” Galad asked as the spindly man ran up. No horses. They were on an incline, and the animals would not have reacted wel to the lightning. Better to trust one’s own feet.

“You need to see this, my Lord,” Alhanra said, panting. “It’s . . . It’s your brother “Gawyn?” Impossible. No, he thought. Not impossible. He would be with Egwene, fighting on their front. Galad ran after Alhanra, Golever and the others falling in around him.

Gawyn’s body lay ashen-faced in a gap between two rocks on the top of the Heights. Nearby a horse was munching on grass, a trail of blood streaming down its side. By the looks of it, not the horse’s blood. Galad knelt down beside the younger man’s corpse. Gawyn had not died easily. But what of Egwene?

“Peace, brother,” Galad said, resting a hand on the body. “May the Light—”

“Galad . . .” Gawyn whispered, his eyes fluttering open.

“Gawyn?” Galad asked, shocked. Gawyn had a nasty gut wound. He wore some strange rings. There was blood everywhere. His hand, chest . . . his entire body. . . .

How could the man still be alive?

The Warder bond’ he realized. “We need to carry you to a Healer! One of the Aes Sedai.” He reached into the hollow, scooping up Gawyn.

“Galad .. I failed.” Gawyn stared at the sky, eyes blank.

“You did well.”

“No. I failed. I should have .. I should have stayed with her. I killed Hammar. Did you know that? I kil ed him. Light. I should have picked a side . . .”

Galad cradled his brother and began running along the slope toward the Aes Sedai. He tried to shelter Gawyn amid the attacks of channelers. After only a few moments, an explosion of earth ripped up among the Children, flinging them aside, tumbling Galad to the ground. He dropped Gawyn as he col apsed to the earth beside him.

Gawyn trembled, eyes staring distantly.

Galad crawled over and tried to pick him up again, but Gawyn grabbed his arm, meeting his eyes. “I did love her, Galad. Tell her.”

“If you are truly bonded, then she knows.”

“This will hurt her,” Gawyn said through pale lips. “And at the end of it, I failed. To kill him.”

“Him?”

“Demandred,” Gawyn whispered. “I tried to kill him, but I wasn’t good enough. I’ve never . . .

been quite good . . . enough . . ”

Galad found himself in a very cold place. He had seen men die, he had lost friends. This hurt more. Light, but it did. He had loved his brother, loved him deeply—and Gawyn, unlike Elayne, had returned the sentiment.

“I will bring you to safety, Gawyn,” Galad said, picking him up, shocked to find tears in his eyes. “I wil not be left without a brother.”

Gawyn coughed. “You won’t be. You have another brother, Galad. One you do not know. A son of. . . Tigraine . . . who went into the Waste . . . Son of a Maiden. Born on Dragonmount. . . .”

Oh, Light.

“Don’t hate him, Galad,” Gawyn whispered. “I always hated him, but I stopped. I . . .

stopped . . .”

Gawyn’s eyes stopped moving.

Galad felt for a pulse, then sat back, looking down at his dead brother. The bandage Gawyn had made for himself at his side seeped blood onto the dry ground below, which hungrily soaked it up.

Golever moved up to him, helping Alhanra, whose blackened face and burned clothing smelled of smoke from the lightning strike. “Take the wounded to safety, Golever,” Galad said, standing. He reached up and felt the medal ion at his neck. “Take all of the men and go.”

“And you, Lord Captain Commander?” Golever asked.

“I wil do what needs to be done,” Galad said, cold inside. Cold as winter steel. “I wil bring Light to the Shadow. I wil bring justice to the Forsaken.”