To many wetlanders, an Aiel was an Aiel. Fools. Though . . . to be honest, Aviendha had to admit that her own first instinct upon seeing Aiel had been to think them allies. When had that happened? Not two years back, if she’d caught unfamiliar algai’d’siswai prowling about, she’d have attacked.
Aviendha continued her inspection of the dead men—a knife on each man, spears and bows. Nothing else telling. However, her thoughts whispered to her that she was missing something.
"The female channeler", she said suddenly, looking up. "It was a woman using the One Power that drew me, Aes Sedai. Was that you?"
"I did not channel until I killed that man", Cadsuane said, frowning.
Aviendha dropped back into a battle stance, hugging the shadows. What would she find next? Wise Ones who served the Shadow? Cadsuane frowned, as Aviendha scouted the area further. She passed Darlin’s tent, where soldiers outside huddled around lamps and cast shadows that danced on the canvas. She passed soldiers in tight groups walking along the pathways, not speaking. They carried torches, blinding their eyes to the night.
Aviendha had heard Tairen officers remark that it was nice, for once, to have no worry about their sentries dozing on duty. With the lightning, the Trolloc drums in the near distance, the occasional raids by Shadowspawn trying to slip into camp . . . soldiers knew to be wary. The frosted air smelled of smoke, with putrid scents blowing in from the Trolloc camps.
She eventually gave up the hunt and walked back the way she had come, finding Cadsuane speaking with a group of soldiers. Aviendha was about to approach when her eyes passed over a patch of darkness nearby, and her senses came alert. That patch of darkness is channeling.
Aviendha began weaving a shield immediately. The one in the darkness wove Fire and Air toward Cadsuane. Aviendha dropped her weave and instead lashed out with Spirit, slicing the enemy weave just as it was released.
Aviendha heard a curse, and a quick weave of fire blossomed in her direction. Aviendha ducked as it lashed overhead, hissing in the cold air. The wave of heat passed. Her enemy ducked out of the shadows—whatever weave she’d been using to hide had collapsed—revealing the woman Aviendha had fought before. The one with the face almost as ugly as a Trollocs.
The woman dashed behind a group of tents just before the ground ripped up behind her—a weave that Aviendha hadn’t made. A second later, the woman folded again, as she had before. Vanishing.
Aviendha stood warily. She turned toward Cadsuane, who walked up to her. "Thank you", the woman said, grudgingly. "For disrupting that weave".
"I suppose we are even, then", Aviendha said.
"Even? No, not by several hundred years, child. I will admit that I am thankful for your intervention". She frowned. "She vanished".
"She did that before".
"A method of Traveling we do not know", Cadsuane said, looking troubled. "I saw no flows for it. Perhaps a ter’angreal? It—"
A shot of red light rose from the front lines of the army. The Trollocs were attacking. At the same time, Aviendha felt channeling in different spots around the camp. One, two, three . . . She spun about, trying to locate each of the locations. She counted five.
"Channelers", Cadsuane said sharply. "Dozens of them".
"Dozens? I sense five".
"Most are men, fool child", Cadsuane said, waving a hand. "Go, gather the others!"
Aviendha dashed away, yelling the alarm. She would have words with Cadsuane later for ordering her about. Maybe. "Having words" with Cadsuane often left one feeling like a complete fool. Aviendha ran into the Aiel section of camp in time to see Amys and Sorilea pulling on their shawls, checking the sky. Flinn stumbled out of a nearby tent, blinking bleary eyes. "Men?" he said. "Channeling? Have more Asha’man arrived?"
"Unlikely", Aviendha said. "Amys, Sorilea, I need a circle".
They raised eyebrows at her. She might be one of them now, and she might have command by the Car’a’carn's authority, but reminding Sorilea of that would end with Aviendha buried to her neck in sand. "If you please", she added quickly.
"It is your say, Aviendha", Sorilea said. "I will go and speak with the others and send them to you, so you may have your circle. We will make two, I think, as you have suggested before. That would be for the best".
Stubborn as Cadsuane, that one is, Aviendha thought. The two of them could teach lessons on patience to trees. Still, Sorilea was not strong in the Power—in fact, she could barely channel—so it would be wise to use others as she suggested.
Sorilea began calling for the other Wise Ones and Aes Sedai. Aviendha suffered the delay with anxiety; already, she could hear screams and explosions in the valley. Streams of fire arced into the air, then dropped.
"Sorilea", Aviendha said softly to the elder Wise One as the women began to build the circles, "I was attacked in camp just now by three Aiel men. The battle we are about to fight, it will probably involve other Aiel who fight for the Shadow".
Sorilea turned sharply, meeting Aviendha’s eyes. "Explain".
"I think they must be the men we sent to kill Sightblinder", Aviendha said.
Sorilea hissed softly. "If this is true, child, then this night will mark great toh for us all. Toh toward the Car’a’carn, toh toward the land itself".
"I know".
"Bring me word", Sorilea said. "I will organize a third circle; maybe make some of those off-duty Windfinders join in".
Aviendha nodded, then accepted control of the circle as it was handed to her. She had three Aes Sedai who had sworn to Rand and two Wise Ones. By her order, Flinn did not join the circle. She wanted him to be on the watch for signs of men channeling, ready to point the direction, and being in a circle might make that impossible for him to do.
They moved off like a squad of spear-sisters. They passed clusters of Tairen Defenders pulling on burnished breastplates over uniforms with wide striped sleeves. In one group, she found King Darlin bellowing orders. "A moment", she said to the others, hastening to the Tairen.
" . . . them all!" Darlin said to his commanders. "Don’t let the front lines weaken! We can’t let those monsters spill into the valley!" It appeared that he’d been awakened from sleep by the attack, for he stood dressed only in trousers and a white undershirt. A disheveled serving man held out Darlin’s coat, but the King, distracted by a messenger, turned away.
When Darlin saw Aviendha, he waved her forward urgently. The serving man heaved a sigh, lowering the coat.
"I’d given up on them attacking tonight", Darlin said, then glanced at the sky. "Or, well, this morning. The scout reports are so confused, I feel like I’ve been thrown into a coop full of crazed chickens and told to catch the one with a single black feather".
"Those reports", Aviendha said, "do they mention Aiel men, fighting for the Shadow? Possibly channeling?"
Darlin turned sharply. "It’s true?"
"Yes".
"And the Trollocs are pushing with everything they have to force their way into the valley", Darlin said. "If those Aiel Dreadlords start attacking our troops, we won t stand a chance without you lot being there to hold them off".
"We’re moving", Aviendha said. "Send for Amys and Cadsuane to make gateways. But I warn you. I caught a Dreadlord sneaking around near your tent . . "
Darlin paled. "Like Ituralde . . . Light, they didn’t touch me. I swear it. I . . ". He raised a hand to his head. "Who do we trust if we cannot trust our own minds?"
"We must make the dance of spears as simple as possible", Aviendha said. Go to Rhuarc, gather your leaders. Plan how you will face the Shadow together, do not let one man control the battle—and set your plans in place; do not allow them to be changed".
"That could lead to disaster", Darlin said. "If we don’t have flexibility . . ".
"What needs be changed?" Aviendha asked grimly. "We hold. With everything we have, we hold. We don’t pull back. We don’t try anything clever. We just hold".
Darlin nodded. "I’ll send for gateways to put Maidens atop those slopes. They can take out those Trollocs shooting arrows down at our lads. Can you deal with the enemy channelers?"
"Yes".
Aviendha returned to her group, then started to draw on their power. The more of the One Power you held, the harder it was to cut you off from the True Source. She intended to hold so much that no man could separate her from it.
Helplessness. She hated feeling helpless. She let the anger at what had been done to her rage inside of her, and led her group toward the nearest source of male channeling that Flinn could identify.
CHAPTER 34
Drifting
Rand stood in a place that was not.
A place outside of time, outside of the Pattern itself.
All around him spread a vast nothingness. Voracious and hungry, it longed to consume. He could actually see the Pattern. It looked like thousands upon thousands of twisting ribbons of light; they spun around him, above him, undulating and shimmering, twisting together. At least, that was how his mind chose to interpret it.
Everything that had ever been, everything that could be, everything that could have been . . . it all lay right there, before him.
Rand could not comprehend it. The blackness around it sucked on him, pulled him toward it. He reached out to the Pattern and somehow anchored himself in it, lest he be consumed.
That changed his focus. It locked him, slightly, into a time. The pattern before him rippled, and Rand watched it being woven. It was not actually the Pattern, he knew, but his mind saw it that way. Familiar, as it had been described, the threads of lives weaving together.
Rand anchored himself in reality again and moved with it. Time had meaning again, and he could not see ahead or behind. He still could see all places, like a man standing above a globe as it turned.
Rand faced the emptiness. "So", he said into it. "This is where it will really happen. Moridin would have had me believe that a simple sword fight would decide this all".
HE IS OF ME. BUT HIS EYES ARE SMALL.
"Yes", Rand said. "I have noticed the same".
SMALL TOOLS CAN BE EFFECTIVE. THE THINNEST OF KNIVES CAN STOP A HEART. HE HAS BROUGHT YOU HERE, ADVERSARY.
None of this had happened the last time, when Rand had worn the name of Lews Therin. He could only interpret that as a good sign.
Now the battle truly began. He looked into the nothingness and felt it welling up. Then, like a sudden storm, the Dark One brought all of his force against Rand.
Perrin fell back against a tree, gasping at the pain. Slayers arrow had impaled his shoulder, the arrowhead coming out his back. He didn’t dare pull it free, not with . . .
He wavered. Thoughts came lethargically. Where was he? He’d shifted away from Slayer as far as he could go, but . . . he didn’t recognize this place. The trees were odd-shaped on top, too leafy, of a variety he’d never before seen. The storm blew here, but far more weakly.
Perrin slipped and hit the ground with a grunt. His shoulder flared with pain. He rolled over, staring up at the sky. He’d broken the arrow when falling.