The large gates opened to allow her people in. It said something about these Black Tower men that they chose to finish the walls around their grounds before actually building their tower.
She kneed her horse forward, and Myrelle and the others followed in a clopping of hooves. Lyrelle embraced the Source and used the new weave, which would tell her if a man channeled nearby. It was not the young man from a short time ago who met them at the gates, however.
"What is this?" Lyrelle asked as she was joined by Pevara Tazanovni. Lyrelle knew the Red Sitter, though not well.
"I’ve been asked to accompany you", Pevara said cheerfully. "Logain thought that a familiar face might make you more comfortable".
Lyrelle held in a sneer. Aes Sedai should not be cheerful. Aes Sedai should be calm, collected, and—if anything else—stern. A man should look at an Aes Sedai and immediately wonder what he had done wrong and how he could fix it.
Pevara fell in beside her as they rode onto the grounds of the Black Tower. "Logain, who is in charge now, sends his regards", Pevara continued. "He was gravely wounded in the attacks and has not yet fully recovered".
"Will he be well?"
"Oh, certainly. He should be up and about in another day or two. He will be needed to lead the Asha’man as they join the Last Battle, I suspect". Pity, Lyrelle thought. The Black Tower would have been more easily controlled without a false Dragon at their head. Better that he had died.
"I am certain his aid will be useful", Lyrelle said. "His leadership, however . . . Well, we shall see. Tell me, Pevara. I have been told that bonding a man who can channel is different from bonding a normal man. Have you been through the process?"
"Yes", Pevara said.
"Is it true, then?" Lyrelle asked. "Ordinary men can be compelled with the bond to obey, but not these Asha’man?"
Pevara smiled, seeming wistful. "Ah, what would that be like? No, the bond cannot force Asha’man. You will have to use more inventive means". That was not good. "How obedient are they?" Aledrin asked from the other side.
"It depends on the man, I suspect", Pevara said.
"If they cannot be forced", Lyrelle said, "will they obey their Aes Sedai in battle?"
"Probably", Pevara said, though there was something ambiguous about the way she said it. "I must tell you something, all of you. The mission I was sent on, and the one you also pursue, is a fool’s errand".
"Is that so?" Lyrelle asked evenly. She was hardly going to trust a Red after what they had done to Siuan. "Why is that?"
"I was once where you are", Pevara said. "Ready to bond all of the Asha’man in an attempt to control them. But would you ride into another city and select fifty men there, at a whim, and bond them as Warders? Bonding the Asha’man just to bond them is foolish. It will not control them. I do think some Asha’man will make excellent Warders, but—like many men—others will not. I suggest that you abandon your plan to bond exactly forty-seven and take those who are most willing. You will gain better Warders".
"Interesting advice", Lyrelle said. "But, as you mentioned, the Asha’man will be needed at the battlefront. There is not time. We will take the forty-seven most powerful".
Pevara sighed, but said nothing further as they passed several men in black coats with two pins on the high collars. Lyrelle felt her skin crawling, as if insects burrowed beneath it. Men who could channel.
Lelaine felt that the Black Tower was vital to the White Tower’s plans. Well, Lyrelle did not belong to Lelaine. She was her own person, and a Sitter in her own right. If she could find a way to bring the Black Tower under her direct authority, then perhaps she could finally wiggle out from under Lelaine’s thumb.
For that prize, bonding Asha’man was worthwhile. Light, but she wasn’t going to enjoy it. They needed all of these men controlled, somehow. The Dragon would be growing mad, unreliable by this point, tainted by the Dark One’s touch on saidin. Could he be manipulated into letting the rest of the men be bonded?
Not having control through the bond. . . that will be dangerous. She imagined going into battle with ranks of two or three dozen Asha’man, bonded and forced to her will. How could she make it happen?
They reached a line of men in black coats waiting at the edge of the village. Lyrelle and the others approached them, and Lyrelle did a quick count. Forty-seven men, including the one standing at the front. What trick were they trying to pull?
The one at the front came forward. He was a sturdy man in his middle years, and he looked as if he’d recently suffered some kind of ordeal. He had bags under his eyes and wan skin. His step was firm, however, and his gaze steady as he met Lyrelle’s eyes, then bowed to her.
"Welcome, Aes Sedai", he said.
"And you are?"
"Androl Genhald", he said. "I’ve been put in charge of your forty-seven until they have been bonded".
"My forty-seven? I see that you have forgotten the terms already. We are to be given any soldier or Dedicated we wish, and they cannot refuse us".
"Yes, indeed", Androl said. "That is true. Unfortunately, all of the men in the Black Tower other than these are either full Asha’man, or have been called away on urgent business. The others would, of course, follow the Dragon’s commands if they were here. We made certain to keep forty-seven for you. Actually, forty-six. I’ve already been bonded by Pevara Sedai, you see".
"We will wait until the others return", Lyrelle said coldly.
"Alas", Androl said, "I do not think they will return any time soon. If you intend to join the Last Battle, you will have to make your selections quickly".
Lyrelle narrowed her eyes at him, then looked at Pevara, who shrugged.
"This is a trick", Lyrelle said to Androl. "And a childish one".
"I thought it clever myself", Androl returned, voice cool. "Worthy of an Aes Sedai, one might say. You were promised that any member of the Black Tower, save full Asha’man, would respond to your request. They will. Any of them to whom you can make the request".
"Undoubtedly, you chose for me the weakest among your numbers".
"Actually", Androl said, "we took those who volunteered. They are good men, every one of them. They are the ones who wanted to be Warders".
"The Dragon Reborn will hear of this".
"From what I’ve heard", Androl said, "he’s heading to Shayol Ghul any time now. Are you going to join him there just to make your complaint?"
Lyrelle drew her lips into a line.
"Here’s the thing, Aes Sedai", Androl said. "The Dragon Reborn sent a message to us, just earlier today. He instructed us to learn one last lesson: that we’re not to think of ourselves as weapons, but as men. Well, men have a choice in their fate, and weapons do not. Here are your men, Aes Sedai. Respect them".
Androl bowed again and walked away. Pevara hesitated, then turned her horse, following him. Lyrelle saw something in the woman’s face as she looked at the man.
So that is it, Lyrelle thought. No better than a Green, that one is. I would have expected more of one her age.
Lyrelle was tempted to refuse this manipulation, to go to the Amyrlin and protest what had happened. Only . . . news from the Amyrlin’s battle-front was jumbled. Something about an unexpected army appearing; details were not available.
Certainly the Amyrlin would not be happy to hear complaints at this point. And certainly, Lyrelle admitted to herself, she also wanted to be done with the Black Tower.
"Each of you pick two", Lyrelle said to her companions. "A few of us will take only one. Faolain and Theodrin, you are among those. Be quick about it, all of you. I want away from this place as soon as possible".
Pevara caught up to Androl as he slipped into one of the huts.
"Light", she said. "I’d forgotten how cold some of us can be".
"Oh, I don’t know", Androl replied. "I’ve heard that some of you aren’t quite so bad".
"Be careful of them, Androl", she said, looking back out. "Many will see you as only a threat or a tool to be used".
"We won you over", Androl said, walking into a room where Canler, Jonneth and Emarin waited with cups of warm tea. All three were beginning to recover from the fighting, Jonneth most quickly. Emarin bore the worst scars, most of them emotional. He, like Logain, had been subjected to the Turning process. Pevara noticed him staring blankly, sometimes, face etched by fear as if remembering something horrible.
"You three shouldn’t be here", Pevara said, hands on hips, facing Emarin and the other two. "I know Logain promised you advancement, but you still wear only the sword on your collars. If any of those women saw you, they could take you as Warders".
"They won’t see us", Jonneth said with a laugh. "Androl would have us through a gateway before we had time to curse!"
"So what do we do now?" Canler asked.
"Whatever Logain wishes of us", Androl said.
Logain had . . . changed since the ordeal. Androl whispered to her that he was darker now. He spoke less. He did still seem determined to get to the Last Battle, but for now, he gathered the men in and pored over things they’d found in Taim’s rooms. Pevara worried that the Turning had broken him inside.
"He thinks there might be something in those battle maps he found in Taim’s chambers", Emarin said.
"We’ll go where Logain decides we can be of most use", Androl replied. A straightforward answer, but one that didn’t actually say much.
"And what of the Lord Dragon?" Pevara asked carefully.
She felt Androl’s uncertainty. The Asha’man Naeff had come to them, bearing news and instructions—and with them, some implications. The Dragon Reborn had known all was not well at the Black Tower.
"He left us alone on purpose", Androl said.
"He would have come if he could have!" Jonneth said. "I promise you".
"He left us to escape on our own", Emarin said, "or to fall on our own. He has become a harsh man. Perhaps callous".
"It doesn’t matter", Androl said. "The Black Tower has learned to survive without him. Light! It always survived without him. He barely had anything to do with us. It was Logain who gave us hope. It is Logain who will have my allegiance".
The others nodded. Pevara felt something important happening here. They couldn’t have leaned upon him forever anyway, she thought. The Dragon Reborn will die at the Last Battle. By intention or not, he had given them the chance to become their own men.
"I will take his last order to heart, however", Androl said. "I will not be merely a weapon. The taint is cleansed. We fight not to die, but to live. We have a reason to live. Spread the word among the other men, and let us take oaths to uphold Logain as our leader. And then, to the Last Battle. Not as minions of the Dragon Reborn, not as pawns of the Amyrlin Seat, but as the Black Tower. Our own men".