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Towers of Midnight (Wheel of Time #13) Page 32
Author: Brandon Sanderson

Not yet, though. There are no coincidences with ta’veren. The wolves, the Whitecloaks. Things he had been outrunning for some time were returning to hunt him. He’d pushed the Children out of the Two Rivers. Many of the men who had been with him then now followed him here.

“Perhaps it will come to that,” Perrin said to Grady, still walking. “But maybe not. We’ve got a larger force than they do, and with that blasted wolfhead banner finally taken down, they may not realize who we are. We fly the banner of the Queen of Ghealdan, and they’re passing through Alliandre’s territory. Likely they saw the supplies in our people’s carts and decided to ‘protect them.’ Some discussion, perhaps a little intimidation, may be enough to persuade them to return our people.”

Elyas nodded, and Grady seemed to agree, though Perrin wasn’t convinced by his own words. The Whitecloaks had haunted him since his early days out of the Two Rivers. Dealing with them had never been simple.

It felt like the time had come. Time to make an end to his troubles with them, one way or another.

He continued his rounds, arriving at the Aiel section of the camp. He nodded at a pair of Maidens lounging on guard with relaxed alertness. They didn’t stand up or salute—which suited him fine—though they did nod. He’d apparently gained great ji in their eyes by the way he’d planned, then accomplished, the attack on the Shaido.

The Aiel maintained their own guard posts, and he had no reason to inspect them. But he included them in his rounds anyway. It seemed that if he was going to visit the other sections of camp, he should do it here, too.

Grady stopped suddenly and spun toward the Wise Ones’ tents.

“What?” Perrin asked urgently, scanning the camp. He couldn’t see anything unusual.

Grady smiled. “I think they’ve managed it.” He started into the Aiel camp, ignoring the glares several Maidens gave him. They might very well have tossed him out, Asha’man or no, if Perrin hadn’t been there.

Neald, Perrin thought. He’s been working with the Aes Sedai to figure out circles. If Grady had seen something in the weaves…

Perrin followed, and soon they reached a ring of Wise One tents in the center of the Aiel camp, the area between them dried—perhaps by weaves—and the ground packed down. Neald, Edarra and Masuri sat there. Fager Neald was a young Murandian with a mustache that curled to points. He wore no pins on the collar of his black coat, though he’d likely be promoted as soon as the group returned from their excursion. He’d grown in Power since they’d begun.

He was still pale from the snakebites he’d taken, but looked much better than he had only a few days back. He was smiling, staring at the air in front of him, and he smelled exuberant.

A large gateway split the air. Perrin grunted. It appeared to lead back to a place where they’d camped several weeks ago—an open field of no real note.

“It’s working?” Grady said, kneeling down beside Neald.

“It’s beautiful, Jur,” Neald said softly. His voice bore no hint of the bravado he often displayed. “I can feel saidar. It’s like I’m more complete now.”

“You’re channeling it?” Perrin asked.

“No. I don’t need to. I can use it.”

“Use it how?” Grady asked, eager.

“I…It’s hard to explain. The weaves are saidin, but I seem to be able to strengthen them with saidar. So long as I can make a gateway on my own, it appears that I can increase the Power—and size—with what the women lend me. Light! It’s wonderful. We should have done this months ago.”

Perrin glanced at the two women, Masuri and Edarra. Neither seemed as exultant as Neald. Masuri looked a little sick, and she smelled of fear. Edarra smelled curious and wary. Grady had mentioned that creating a circle this way seemed to require the men to gain control over the women.

“We’ll send the scouting group through to Cairhien soon, then,” Perrin said, fingering the blacksmith’s puzzle in his pocket. “Grady, arrange with the Aiel about that mission, set up the gateways as they ask.”

“Yes, my Lord,” Grady said, rubbing his leathery face. “I should probably learn this technique rather than continuing on rounds. Though there’s something I’ll be wanting to talk to you about first. If you’ve the time.”

“If you wish,” Perrin said, stepping away from the group. To the side, several of the other Wise Ones came forward and told Neald it was their turn to try the circle with him. They didn’t act at all as if Neald were in charge, and he was quick to obey. He’d been walking lightly around the Aiel since he’d said something a little too frisky to a Maiden and ended up playing Maiden’s Kiss.

“What is this about, Grady?” Perrin asked once they were a little way off.

“Well, Neald and I are both well enough to make gateways, it seems,” Grady said. “I was wondering if I might…” He seemed hesitant. “Well, if I might have leave to slip over to the Black Tower for an afternoon, to see my family.”

That’s right, Perrin thought. He’s got a wife and a son. The Asha’man didn’t often talk about them. Actually, he didn’t often talk about much.

“I don’t know, Grady,” Perrin said, glancing up at the darkly clouded sky. “We have Whitecloaks ahead, and there’s still no telling for sure if those Shaido will loop around and try to ambush us. I’m loath to be without you until I know we’re someplace safe.”

“It needn’t be for long, my Lord,” Grady said earnestly. Perrin sometimes forgot how young the man was, only six or seven years older than himself. Grady seemed so much older in that black coat, with his sun-darkened face.

“We’ll find a time,” Perrin said. “Soon. I don’t want to upset anything until we have word of what’s been happening since we left.” Information could be potent. Balwer had taught him that.

Grady nodded, looking placated, though Perrin hadn’t given him anything definite. Light! Even the Asha’man were starting to smell like people who saw him as their lord. They’d been so aloof when this all began.

“You never worried about this before, Grady,” Perrin said. “Has something changed?”

“Everything,” Grady said softly. Perrin got a whiff of his scent. Hopeful. “It changed a few weeks back. I know that people don’t believe it, but I swear to you that it did happen.”

“The taint was cleansed?” Perrin asked.

Grady nodded.

The Asha’man insisted that the male half of the Source had been cleaned, though others were skeptical. Perrin believed them. As impossible as it seemed, Grady didn’t smell mad when he spoke of this event. Besides, it seemed the sort of thing Rand might have been about. The colors swirled in front of him. He banished them.

“You said it happened, and I trust you, Grady. But what does this have to do with the Black Tower and your family? You want to go see if other Asha’man agree?”

“Oh, they’ll agree,” Grady said. “It’s…well, my Lord, I’m a simple man. Sora, she’s always been the thinker. I do what needs doing, and that’s that. Well, joining the Black Tower, that was something that needed doing. I knew what was going to happen when I was tested. I knew it was in me. It was in my father, you see. We don’t talk about it, but it was there. Reds found him young, right after I was born.

“When I joined the Lord Dragon, I knew what would happen to me. A few more years and I’d be gone. Might as well spend them fighting. The Lord Dragon told me I was a soldier, and a soldier can’t leave his duty. So I haven’t asked to go back before now. You needed me.”

“That’s changed?”

“My Lord, the taint is gone. I’m not going to go mad. That means…well, I always had a reason to fight. But now I’ve got a reason to live, too.”

Looking into the man’s eyes, Perrin understood. What must it have been like? Knowing that you’d eventually go mad and need to be executed. Likely by your friends, who would call it a mercy.

That was what Perrin had sensed in the Asha’man all along, the reason they held themselves apart, often seeming so somber. Everyone else fought for life. The Asha’man…they’d fought to die.

That’s how Rand feels, Perrin thought, watching the colors swirl again and his friend appear. He was riding his large black horse through a city with muddy streets, speaking with Nynaeve, who rode beside him.

Perrin shook his head and banished the image. “We’ll get you home, Grady,” he promised. “You’ll have some time with her before the end comes.”

Grady nodded, glancing at the sky as a low rumble of thunder came from the north. “I just want to talk to her, you know? And I need to see little Gadren again. I won’t recognize the lad.”

“I’m sure he’s a handsome child, Grady.”

Grady laughed. It felt odd, but good, to hear that from the man. “Handsome? Gadren? No, my Lord, he might be big for his age, but he’s about as pretty as a stump. Still, I love him something fierce.” He shook his head, amused. “But I should be off learning this trick with Neald. Thank you, my Lord.”

Perrin smiled, watching him go as a Maiden came hurrying into camp. She reported to the Wise Ones, but spoke loud enough to let Perrin hear. “There is a stranger riding along the road toward camp. He flies a flag of peace, but he wears the clothing of these Children of the Light.”

Perrin nodded, gathering his guards. As he hastened toward the front of the camp, Tam appeared and fell in beside him. They arrived just as the Whitecloak approached the first guard posts. The man rode a brilliant white gelding, and he carried a long pole with a white banner. His white clothing—mail with a tabard under the cloak—bore a yellow sunburst on the breast.

Perrin felt a sharp sinking feeling. He recognized this man. Dain Bornhald.

“I come to speak with the criminal Perrin Aybara,” Bornhald announced in a loud voice, pulling to a stop.

“I’m here, Bornhald,” Perrin called, stepping out.

Bornhald looked at him. “It is you. The Light has delivered you to us.”

“Unless it has also delivered you an army three or four times the size of the one you have now,” Perrin called, “then I doubt very much that it will matter.”

“We have in our possession people who claim fealty to you, Aybara.”

“Well, you can let them ride on back to our camp, and we’ll be on our way.”

The young Whitecloak turned his mount to the side, scowling. “We have unfinished business, Darkfriend.”

“No need for this to turn nasty, Bornhald,” Perrin said. “The way I see it, we can still each go our own way.”

“The Children would rather die than leave justice undone,” Dain said, then spat to the side. “But I will leave that for the Lord Captain Commander to explain. He wishes to see you for himself. I have been ordered to come and tell you that he is waiting beside the road a short ride ahead. He would like you to meet with him.”

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Brandon Sanderson's Novels
» Legion
» Elantris (Elantris #1)
» The Emperor's Soul
» The Way of Kings (The Stormlight Archive #1)
» Warbreaker (Warbreaker #1)
» Alcatraz Versus the Evil Librarians (Alcatraz #1)
» Alcatraz Versus the Scrivener's Bones (Alcatraz #2)
» Alcatraz Versus the Knights of Crystallia (Alcatraz #3)
» Alcatraz Versus the Shattered Lens (Alcatraz #4)
» The Rithmatist (Rithmatist #1)
» The Well of Ascension (Mistborn #2)
» Mistborn: The Final Empire (Mistborn #1)
» The Hero of Ages (Mistborn #3)
» Infinity Blade: Awakening (Infinity Blade #1)
» The Alloy of Law (Mistborn #4)
» Infinity Blade: Redemption (Infinity Blade #2)
» The Hope of Elantris (Elantris #1.5)
» The Gathering Storm (Wheel of Time #12)
» Towers of Midnight (Wheel of Time #13)
» A Memory of Light (Wheel of Time #14)