“But . . ” Kert said again. “It looks bad. Light burn me, but it does.”
“It will be as the Wheel wills,” Rand said, glancing northward. “Peace, Kert, Reed,” Rand said softly. “The Prophecies have nearly all been fulfilled. This day was seen, and our tests are known. We do not walk into them unaware.”
He hadn’t promised them they would win or that they would survive, but both men stood up straighter and nodded, smiling. People liked to know that there was a plan. The knowledge that someone was in control might be the strongest comfort that Rand could offer them.
“That’s enough bothering the Lord Dragon with your questions,” Perrin said. “Make sure you guard this post wel —no dozing, Kert, and no dicing.”
Both men saluted again as Perrin and Rand passed into the camp. There was more cheer here than there was in other camps on the Field. The campfires seemed faintly brighter, the laughter faintly louder. It was as if the Two Rivers folk had managed, somehow, to bring home with them.
“You lead them well,” Rand said softly, moving quickly beside Perrin, who nodded toward those out at night.
“They shouldn’t need me to tel them what to do, and that’s that.” However, when a messenger came running into camp, Perrin was immediately in charge. He called the spindly youth by name and, seeing the boy’s flushed face and trembling legs—he was frightened of Rand—Perrin pulled him aside and spoke softly, but firmly, with him.
Perrin sent the boy off to find Lady Faile, then stepped over. “I need to talk to Rand again.”
“You’re talking to—”
“I need the real Rand, not the man who’s learned to talk like an Aes Sedai.”
Rand sighed. “It really is me, Perrin,” he protested. “I’m more me than I’ve been for ages.”
“Yes, well, I don’t like talking to you when your emotions are all masked.”
A group of Two Rivers men passed and saluted. He felt a sudden spike of cold solitude at seeing those men and knowing he could never be one of them again. It was hardest with the Two Rivers men. But he did let himself be more . . . relaxed, for Perrin’s sake.
“So, what was it?” he asked. “What did the messenger say?”
“You were right to be worried,” Perrin said. “Rand, Caemlyn has fallen. It’s overrun with Trollocs.”
Rand felt his face grow hard.
“You’re not surprised,” Perrin said. “You’re worried, but not surprised.” “No, I’m not,” Rand admitted. “I thought it would be the south where they struck—I’ve heard word of Trolloc sightings there, and I’m half-certain that Demandred is involved. He has never been comfortable without an army. But Caemlyn . . . yes, it’s a clever strike. I told you they would try to distract us. If they can undercut Andor and draw her away, my alliance grows much shakier.”
Perrin glanced at where Elayne’s camp was set up right beside that of Egwene. “But wouldn’t it be good for you if Elayne ran off? She’s on the other side of this confrontation.”
“There is no other side, Perrin. There is one side, with a disagreement on how that side should proceed. If Elayne isn’t here to be part of the meeting, it wil undermine everything I’m trying to accomplish. She’s probably the most powerful of all the rulers.”
Rand could feel her, of course, through the bond. Her spike of alarm let him know that she’d received this information. Should he go to her? Perhaps he could send Min. She had gotten up, and was moving away from the tent where he’d left her. And— He blinked. Aviendha. She was here, at Merrilor. She hadn’t been here moments ago, had she? Perrin glanced at him, and he didn’t bother to wipe the shock from his face.
“We can’t let Elayne leave,” Rand said.
“Not even to protect her homeland?” Perrin asked, incredulous.
“If the Trollocs have already taken Caemlyn, then it’s too late for Elayne to do anything meaningful. Elayne’s forces wil focus on evacuation. She doesn’t need to be there for that, but she does need to be here. Tomorrow morning.”
How could he make certain she stayed? Elayne reacted poorly to being told what to do—all women did—but if he implied . . .
“Rand,” Perrin said, “what if we sent in the Asha’man? All of them? We could make a fight of it at Caemlyn.”
“No,” Rand said, though the word hurt. “Perrin, if the city really is overrun—I’ll send men through gateways to be certain—then it’s lost. Taking back those walls would take far too much effort, at least right now. We cannot let this coalition break apart before I have a chance to forge it together. Unity wil preserve us. If each of us goes running off to put out fires in our homelands, then we wil lose. That’s what this attack is about.”
“I suppose that’s possible . . Perrin said, fingering his hammer.
A Memory of Light
Robert Jordan's books
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