He trailed off, falling silent.
“What?” Min asked.
“If he cannot answer,” Paitar said, “then you will be lost. You will bring his end swiftly, so that the final days may have their storm. So that Light may not be consumed by he who was to have preserved it. I see him. And I weep.”
“You came to murder him, then,” Cadsuane said.
“To test him,” Tenobia said. “Or so we decided, once Paitar told us of the prophecy.”
“You don’t know how close you came to doom,” Rand said softly. “If I had come to you but a short time earlier, I’d have returned those slaps with balefire.”
“Inside the Guardian?” Tenobia sniffed disdainfully.
“The Guardian blocks the One Power,” Rand whispered. “The One Power only.”
What does he mean by that? Cadsuane thought, frowning.
“We knew well the risk,” Ethenielle said proudly. “I demanded the right to slap you first. Our armies had orders to attack if we fell.”
“My family has analyzed the words of the prophecy a hundred times over,” Paitar said. “The meaning seemed clear. It was our task to test the Dragon Reborn. To see if he could be trusted to go to the Last Battle.”
“Only a month earlier,” Rand said. “I wouldn’t have had the memories to answer you. This was a foolish gambit. If you had killed me, then all would have been lost.”
“A gamble,” Paitar said evenly. “Perhaps another would have risen in your stead.”
“No,” Rand said. “This prophecy was like the others. A declaration of what might happen, not advice.”
“I see it differently, Rand al’Thor,” Paitar said. “And the others agreed with me.”
“It should be noted,” Ethenielle said, “that I didn’t come south because of this prophecy. My goal was to see if I could bring some sense to the world. And then…” She grimaced.
“What?” Cadsuane asked, finally sipping her tea. It tasted good, as it usually did near al’Thor these days.
“The storms,” Tenobia said. “The snow stopped us. And then, finding you proved more difficult than we’d assumed. These gateways. Can you teach them to our Aes Sedai?”
“I will have your Aes Sedai taught in return for a promise,” Rand said. “You will swear to me. I have need of you.”
“We are sovereigns,” Tenobia snapped. “I’m not going to bow to you as quickly as my uncle did. We have to speak about that, by the way.”
“Our oaths are to the lands we protect,” Easar said.
“As you wish,” Rand said, rising. “I once gave you an ultimatum. I phrased it poorly, and I regret that, but I remain your only path to the Last Battle. Without me, you will remain here, hundreds of leagues from those lands you swore to protect.” He nodded to each of them, then helped Min to her feet. “Tomorrow, I meet with the monarchs of the world. After that, I am going to go to Shayol Ghul and break the remaining seals on the Dark One’s prison. Good day.”
Cadsuane didn’t rise. She sat, sipping her tea. The four seemed astounded. Well, the boy certainly had picked up an understanding of the dramatic.
“Wait!” Paitar finally sputtered, rising. “You’re going to do what?”
Rand turned. “I’m going to shatter the seals, Lord Paitar. I’m going to ‘break what he must break’ as your own prophecy says I must. You cannot stop me, not when those words prove what I will do. Earlier, I stepped in to prevent Maradon from falling. It was near to it, Tenobia. The walls are shattered, your troops bloodied. With help, I was able to save it. Barely. Your countries need you. And so, you have two choices. Swear to me, or sit here and let everyone else fight in your place.”
Cadsuane sipped her tea. That was going a little too far.
“I’ll leave you to discuss my offer,” Rand said. “I can spare one hour—though, before you start your deliberation, could you send for someone on my behalf? There is a man in your army named Hurin. I would like to apologize to him.”
They still looked stunned. Cadsuane rose to go speak with the sisters waiting outside; she knew a few of them, and needed to feel out the others. She didn’t worry about what the Borderlanders would decide. Al’Thor had them. Another army beneath his banner. I didn’t think he’d manage this one.
One more day and it all began. Light, but she hoped that they were ready.
Chapter 52
Boots
Elayne settled herself in Glimmer’s saddle. The mare was one of the prizes of the royal stable; she was of fine Saldaean stock with a brilliant white mane and coat. The saddle itself was rich, the leather trimmed with wine-red and gold. It was the sort of saddle you used when parading.
Birgitte rode Rising, a tall dun gelding, also one of the fastest in the royal stables. The Warder had chosen both horses. She expected to have to run.
Birgitte wore one of Elayne’s foxhead copies, though it had a different shape, a thin silver disc with a rose on the front. Elayne carried another wrapped in cloth inside her pocket.
She’d tried making another this morning, but it had melted, nearly setting her dresser on fire. She was having a great deal of difficulty without the original to study. Her dreams of arming all of her personal Guards with medallions was looking less and less possible, unless she somehow managed to persuade Mat to give her the original again.
Her honor guard fell into mounted ranks around her and Birgitte in the Queen’s Plaza. She was bringing only a hundred soldiers—seventy-five Guardsmen and an inner ring of twenty-five Guardswomen. It was a tiny force, but she’d have gone without those hundred if she’d been able to get away with it. She couldn’t afford to be seen as a conqueror.
“I don’t like this,” Birgitte said.
“You don’t like anything, lately,” Elayne said. “I swear, you’re becoming more irritable by the day.”
“It’s because you’re becoming more foolhardy by the day.”
“Oh, come now. This is hardly the most foolhardy thing I’ve done.”
“Only because you’ve set a very high benchmark for yourself, Elayne.”
“It will be fine,” Elayne said, glancing southward.
“Why do you keep looking in that direction?”
“Rand,” Elayne said, feeling that warmth again, pulsing from the knot of emotions in her mind. “He’s getting ready for something. He feels troubled. And peaceful at the same time.” Light, but that man could be confusing.
The meeting would happen in one day, if his original deadline still held. Egwene was right; breaking the seals would be foolish. But Rand would see reason.
Alise rode up to her, accompanied by three Kinswomen. Sarasia was a plump woman with a grandmotherly air; dark-skinned Kema kept her black hair in three long braids, and prim Nashia with a youthful face wore a baggy dress.
The four took up positions beside Elayne. Only two of them were strong enough for a gateway—many of the Kin were weaker than most Aes Sedai. But that would be enough, assuming Elayne had trouble embracing the Source.
“Can you do something to prevent archers from hitting her?” Birgitte asked Alise. “Some kind of weave?”
Alise cocked her head thoughtfully. “I know of one that might help,” she said, “but I’ve never tried it.”
Another Kinswoman wove a gateway up ahead. It opened to a span of rough, brown-grassed land outside of Cairhien. A much larger army waited there, wearing the cuirasses and bell-shaped helmets of Cairhienin troops. The officers were easy to spot with their dark clothing, in the colors of the Houses they served. They wore con rising over their backs.
Tall, narrow-faced Lorstrum sat his mount at the front of his army, which wore dark green with crimson slashes; Bertome was on the other side. Their forces looked to be about the same size. Five thousand each. The other four Houses had fielded smaller armies.
“If they wanted to take you captive,” Birgitte said grimly, “you’re handing them the chance.”
“There’s no way to do this and remain safe, not unless I want to hide in my palace and send my troops in. That would only lead to rebellion in Cairhien and potential collapse in Andor.” She glanced at the Warder. “I’m Queen now, Birgitte. You’re not going to be able to keep me from danger, no more than you could keep a lone soldier safe on the battlefield.”
Birgitte nodded. “Stay close to me and Guybon.”
Guybon approached, on a large dappled gelding. With Birgitte on one side of her and Guybon on the other—and with both of their horses taller than Elayne’s—a would-be assassin would have great difficulty picking her off without first hitting her friends.
So it would be for the rest of her life. She nudged Glimmer into motion, and her troop made its way through the gateway and onto Cairhienin soil. The noblemen and noblewomen ahead bowed or curtsied from horseback, and those oblations were deeper this time than they had been when meeting Elayne in her throne room. The show had begun.
The city was just ahead, walls still blackened from fires during the fight with the Shaido. Elayne could sense Birgitte’s tension as the gateway vanished behind. The Kin around Elayne embraced the Source, and Alise wove an unfamiliar weave, placing it in the air around the inner ring of troops. It made a small—but swift—wind spinning in the air.
Birgitte’s anxiety was contagious, and Elayne found herself holding her reins in a tight grip as Glimmer moved forward. The air was drier here in Cairhien, with a faint dusty scent to it. The sky was overcast.
The Cairhienin troops formed around her small group of Andorans in white and red. Most of the Cairhienin forces were foot, though there was some heavy cavalry, horses in shiny barding and men carrying lances pointed high into the air. All marched in perfect lines, protecting Elayne. Or keeping her captive.
Lorstrum moved his bay stallion closer to Elayne’s outer ranks. Guybon glanced at her, and she nodded, so the captain allowed him to approach.
“The city is nervous, Your Majesty,” Lorstrum said. Birgitte was still careful to keep her mount between his and Elayne’s. “There are…unfortunate rumors surrounding your ascension.”
Rumors you probably initiated, Elayne thought, before you decided to support me instead. “Surely they won’t rise against your troops?”
“I hope they will not.” He eyed her from under his flat cap of forest green. He wore a black coat that went down to his knees and slashes of color across it all the way down, to denote his House. It was the type of clothing he’d wear if going to a ball. That projected a sense of confidence. His force wasn’t seizing the city, it was escorting the new queen with an honorary parade. “It is unlikely that there will be armed resistance. But I wanted to warn you.”
Lorstrum nodded to her with respect. He knew she was manipulating him, but he also accepted that manipulation. She would have to keep a careful watch on him in the years to come.
Cairhien was such a boxish city, all straight lines and fortified towers. Though some of its architecture was beautiful, there was no comparing the place to Caemlyn or Tar Valon. They rode directly in through the northern gates, the River Alguenya to their right.