She shook off the worrying; she had work to do. Was she following the wrong thread? Was she interpreting in the wrong way? She read the line again. Light is held before the maw of the infinite void, and all that he is can be seized.
Her speculation cut off as she saw a light appear from the room across the hall. She dropped her book and leaped down to the floor. Rand was suddenly close. She could feel it through the bond.
Two Maidens guarded the room across the hall, mostly to prevent people from wandering in and getting hurt by gateways. The one that had opened now led to a place that smelled of smoke. Rand stumbled through. Min ran to him. He looked exhausted, eyes red, face wan. He leaned against her with a sigh, letting her help him to a chair.
“What happened?” Min demanded of Evasni, the Maiden who came through next. She was a lanky woman with dark red hair, cut short with a tail in the back like that of most Maidens.
“The Car’a’carn is well,” the woman said. “Though he is like a youth who ran one more lap around the camp than everyone else, only to prove that he could.”
“He gained much ji today,” Ifeyina—the other Maiden—said, almost in argument. Her voice was solemn.
Rand sighed, settling back in the chair. Bashere followed out of the gateway, boots hitting stone. Min heard calls from down below—a group of wounded soldiers being brought through a larger gateway. The Stone’s courtyards were alive with activity, Aes Sedai Healers running to care for the bloodied, sooty men.
After Bashere came a lean Domani man in his middle years. Rodel Ituralde. He looked much the worse for wear, with dried blood on his filthy face, his clothing ripped, and bearing a clumsy bandage on his arm. Rand had no visible wounds. His clothing was clean, though he insisted on still wearing that aged brown cloak. But Light, he looked tired.
“Rand,” Min said, kneeling down. “Rand, are you all right?”
“I grew angry,” Rand said softly. “I had thought myself beyond that.”
She felt a chill.
“It was not a terrible anger, like before,” Rand said. “It was not the anger of destruction, though I did destroy. In Maradon, I saw what had been done to men who followed me. I saw Light in them, Min. Defying the Dark One no matter the length of his shadow. We will live, that defiance said. We will love and we will hope.
“And I saw him trying so hard to destroy that. He knows that if he could break them, it would mean something. Something much more than Maradon. Breaking the spirit of men…he thirsts for that. He struck far harder than he otherwise would have because he wanted to break my spirit.” His voice grew softer and he opened his eyes, looking down at her. “And so I stood against him.”
“What you did was amazing,” Bashere said, standing beside Min with his arms folded. “But did you let him drive you to it?”
Rand shook his head. “I have a right to my anger, Bashere. Don’t you see? Before, I tried to hold it all hidden within. That was wrong. I must feel. I must hurt for the pains, the deaths, the losses of these people. I have to cling to these things so I know why I am fighting. There are times when I need the void, but that does not make my anger any less a part of me.”
He seemed to be growing more confident with each word, and Min nodded.
“Well, you saved the city,” Bashere said.
“Not soon enough,” Rand said. Min could feel his sorrow. “And my actions today may still have been a mistake.”
Min frowned. “Why?”
“It came too close to a confrontation between us,” Rand said. “That must happen at Shayol Ghul, and at the right time. I cannot afford to let him provoke me. Bashere is right. Nor can I afford to let the men assume that I will always be able to step in and save them.”
“Perhaps,” Bashere said. “But what you did today…”
Rand shook his head. “I am not to fight this war, Bashere. Today’s battle exhausted me beyond what I should have allowed. If my enemies were to come upon me now, I’d be finished. Besides, I can only fight in one place at a time. What is coming will be grander than that, grander and more terrible than any one man could hope to hold back. I will organize you, but I must leave you. The war will be yours.”
He fell silent, and Flinn stepped through the gateway, letting it slide closed.
“I must rest now,” Rand said softly. “Tomorrow I meet with your niece and the other Borderlanders, Bashere. I know not what they will require of me, but they must return to their posts. If Saldaea was in such a state with one of the great captains leading the defense, I can only guess what the other Borderland nations are suffering.”
Min helped him to his feet. “Rand,” she said softly. “Cadsuane returned, and she had someone with her.”
He hesitated. “Take me to her.”
Min winced. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it. You should rest.”
“I will,” he said. “Don’t worry.”
She could still sense his exhaustion. But she didn’t argue. They walked from the room. “Rodel Ituralde,” Rand said, pausing by the doorway. “You will wish to accompany me. I cannot repay you for the honor you have shown, but I do have something I can give.”
The grizzled Domani nodded, following. Min helped Rand down the corridor, worrying about him. Did he have to push himself this hard?
Unfortunately, he does. Rand al’Thor was the Dragon Reborn. He’d be bled dry, ground down, used up before this was through. It was almost enough to make a woman stop trying.
“Rand…” she said, Ituralde and several Maidens trailing them. Fortunately, Cadsuane’s room wasn’t far.
“I will be all right,” he said. “I promise. Have you news of your studies?” He was trying to distract her.
Unfortunately, that question just sent her to another worry. “Have you ever wondered why Callandor is so often called a ‘fearful blade’ or ‘the blade of ruin’ in the prophecies?”
“It’s such a powerful sa’angreal,” he said. “Maybe it’s because of the destruction it can cause?”
“Maybe,” she said.
“You think it’s something else.”
“There’s a phrase,” Min said, “in the Jendai Prophecy. I wish we knew more of them. Anyway, it says ‘and the Blade will bind him by twain.’”
“Two women,” Rand said. “I need to be in a circle with two women to control it.”
She grimaced.
“What?” Rand said. “You might as well be out with it, Min. I need to know.”
“There’s another phrase, from The Karaethon Cycle. Anyway, I think that Callandor might be flawed beyond that. I think it might…Rand, I think it might make you weak, open you to attack, if you use it.”
“Perhaps that’s how I’ll be killed, then.”
“You aren’t going to be killed,” Min said.
“I—”
“You’ll live through this, sheepherder,” she insisted. “I’m going to see that you do.”
He smiled at her. He looked so tired. “I almost believe that you’ll do it, Min. Perhaps I’m not the one the Pattern bends around, but you.” He turned, then knocked on a door in the hallway.
It cracked, Merise peeking out. She looked Rand up and down. “You seem as if you can barely stand on your own feet, al’Thor.”
“True indeed,” he replied. “Is Cadsuane Sedai here?”
“She has done as you asked,” Merise replied. “And, I might say, she’s been very accommodating, considering how you—”
“Let him in, Merise,” Cadsuane’s voice said from inside.
Merise hesitated, then gave Rand a glare as she pulled the door open all the way. Cadsuane sat in a chair, speaking with an older man whose long, gray hair fell loose to his shoulders. He had a large beak of a nose and regal clothing.
Rand stepped to the side. Behind them, someone gasped. Rodel Ituralde stepped up to the doorway, seeming stunned, and the man in the room turned. He had kindly eyes and coppery skin.
“My liege,” Ituralde cried, hastening forward, then going down on one knee. “You live!”
Min felt an overwhelming sense of happiness from Rand. Ituralde, it appeared, was weeping. Rand stepped back. “Come, let’s go to my rooms and rest.”
“The King of Arad Doman. Where did she find him?” Min said. “How did you know?”
“A friend left me a secret,” Rand said. “The White Tower collected Mattin Stepaneos to ‘protect’ him. Well, it wasn’t too much of a leap to wonder if they might have done that with other monarchs. And if they sent sisters to Arad Doman to seize him months ago, before any of them knew of gateways, they could have gotten trapped in the snows on their return trip.” He seemed so relieved. “Graendal never had him. I didn’t kill him, Min. One innocent I assumed that I’d killed still lives. That’s something. A small something. But it helps.”
She helped him walk the rest of the way to their rooms, content—for the moment—to share in his warm sense of joy and relief.
Chapter 33
A Good Soup
Siuan’s soup was surprisingly good.
She took another sip, raising an eyebrow. It was simple—broth and vegetables, bits of chicken—but when most food tasted stale at best, this seemed a wonder. She tried the biscuit. No weevils? Delightful!
Nynaeve had just fallen silent, her own bowl steaming in front of her. Newly raised, she’d taken the oaths earlier in the day. They were in the Amyrlin’s study, shutters open and spilling in golden light, new rugs of green and gold on the floor.
Silently, Siuan chided herself for getting distracted by the soup. Nynaeve’s report demanded consideration. She’d spoken of her time with Rand al’Thor, and specifically of events such as the cleansing. Of course, Siuan had heard the reports that saidin had been cleansed; an Asha’man had visited the camp during the division. She had remained skeptical, but there was little denying it now.
“Well,” the Amyrlin said, “I am very glad for this longer explanation, Nynaeve. Though saidin being cleansed does make it less unsettling to consider Asha’man and Aes Sedai bonding one another. I wish Rand had been willing to speak to me of that during our meeting.” She said it evenly, though Siuan knew she looked on men bonding women with as much pleasure as a captain looked on a fire in his hold.
“I suppose,” Nynaeve said, lips turning down. “If it matters, Rand didn’t approve the men bonding women.”
“It doesn’t matter if he did or not,” Egwene said. “The Asha’man are his responsibility.”
“As the Aes Sedai who chained him and beat him are yours, Mother?” Nynaeve asked.
“Inherited from Elaida, perhaps,” Egwene said, eyes narrowing just slightly.
She was right to bring Nynaeve back, Siuan thought, taking a sip of soup. She takes his side far too often for comfort.
Nynaeve sighed, taking her spoon to begin her soup. “I didn’t mean that as a challenge, Mother. I just want to show how he thinks. Light! I didn’t approve of much of what he did, particularly lately. But I can see how he got there.”